Taunt (7 page)

I didn’t
need
blood to survive; the thought soared through me,
filling me with confidence.

It became clear
that this would be a fight to the death. His attacks were
ferocious, and I was fed up with defending myself. It was time to
fight back.

Determined to
give it everything I had, I tackled him, but he overpowered me and
sent us both toppling over.

We grappled on
the ground, him aiming for my throat. I held him at bay, using my
legs to give me space, but he almost bit off my fingers. I let him
throw me on my back, then I rolled over, wriggling away.

I leapt to my
feet, and he ran back at me so quickly, he didn’t notice the dagger
until it was too late. His speed and strength helped me stick the
dagger into his heart as far as I could. The dagger shone electric
blue, then lit up every vein in his body as it burned the poison
from within. I looked away when he screamed in agony, but I could
feel the heat of the flames close to my skin. I heard the dagger
drop to the ground amongst a mound of ashes that quickly blew away.
It was over.

I won. Without
blood, without counting. I had stayed calm, and I won.

I picked up the
dagger and carelessly shoved it into my pocket. A flash to my left
caught my eye. I heard a loud cracking noise and flew backward,
unable to understand what had happened.

Then the pain
came, burning hot in my stomach.

Humans dotted the
streets; I could hear their whispers like thunder, yet that was
quiet compared to the beating of their hearts. I pressed the wound,
and blood drenched my fingers. The pain stopped. Not a good sign,
but I was too tired to think about it.

My eyes closed by
themselves; my whole body felt weightless. Not right. Feeling
strangely empty, I struggled to open my eyes. Ignoring the
dizziness, I rolled over slowly. I got to my knees first. Slow and
steady. The blood still flowed; I could see a puddle on the ground,
but I had to ignore it, had to move, couldn’t bleed out—not right
there on the ground.

I managed to push
myself to my feet. I staggered on, trying to remember who lived
close by, because I needed help. I pressed on the wound again,
wondering why it didn’t hurt. It felt slippery; I concentrated on
that because all I wanted to do was lie down and sleep.

I kept going,
trying to stay upright. My vision blurred at the edges, and I had
no idea where I was headed. I just knew I needed to keep moving.
Then I heard my name. Someone grabbed me, held me tight.
Peter.

“
I . .
. I think I’ve been shot,” I managed to croak. Of everything that
could happen to me, this was the last thing I expected.

He nodded. “I
know, she warned me something would happen. I’ve been ringing you,
come on. We’ve all been looking for you. I’m taking you to the
bookshop.”

“
No,”
I moaned. “Not him. I need to go home.”

“
Trust
me, Ava,” He ushered me along.

“
I
can’t.” I wanted to, but everyone felt like the enemy.

“
Why
didn’t you answer your phone?” He sounded frustrated.

“
On
silent,” I said through wet lips.

“
It’s
okay. We have to hurry, come on.”

I let him help me
along but, after a couple of steps, I coughed, and blood poured out
of my mouth.

“
It’s
fine,” he kept saying over and over again. “It’s fine.”

He eased me into
his car and sped off. I was afraid to speak because I could taste
the blood in my mouth, and after a couple of minutes the pain cut
through the daze.

“
It’s
hurting now,” I said. “Think that might be a good
thing.”

He glanced at my
wound. “We need to get the bullet out. Looks like it’s healing over
it.”

“
Can’t
be. I can’t do that.”

He shrugged.
“I’ve seen you heal wounds before.”

“
Not
anymore. Never works. Need to spit now.”

He glanced at me,
then opened the window. The breeze cooled the sweat on my face as I
spat a glob of blood outside.

“
If
the skin heals, the bullet will be stuck inside. You’re not healing
properly on the inside, so we have to get it out.” His voice
shook.

I shivered,
unwilling to think about what that might mean. No chance of a
hospital, or even a doctor, and painkillers had never worked on me
before.

I gave a little
cry of pain when Peter pulled over outside Eddie’s place. He pushed
Eddie out of the way and helped me inside, half carrying me up the
stairs. I gripped his coat and pressed my face against his chest to
keep from screaming. The pain worsened, and the blood kept bubbling
in my mouth.

Peter laid me
down, and I chanced taking a look at my stomach. It was covered in
blood, but the wound didn’t look so bad.

“
I’m
sorry, Ava,” Peter said, his face paler than usual. “I might have
to hurt you.”

I bit my lip and
nodded. I had no choice.

“
I
have something that might help her, but it’ll take at least twenty
minutes to work,” Eddie said.

Peter pushed him
out of the way. “No good. She could bleed out by then; look at
her.”

He poured cold
liquid over my skin as I fell in and out of consciousness. I heard
Eddie whispering, but I was losing my grip on reality; his words
meant nothing to me.

I felt Eddie
clasp my hand; Peter used my own dagger to try and open the wound
and force out the bullet which had buried itself inside. I tried
not to scream, but I couldn’t help it.

“
Stop,
just leave it,” I whimpered, as the hot pain intensified. My fangs
shot out, piercing my lip. Blood dribbled down my chin. Eddie wiped
it away gently with a wet cloth. It felt like Peter was stabbing me
with tiny hot pokers; I couldn’t look at him, I just wanted him to
stop.

“
I’m
sorry, I have to do this.” The panic in Peter’s voice swept over
me, and I knew it was more serious than I thought.

“
What’s wrong with it?” I asked, feeling the fear in the
air.

“
The
surface wound is healing fast, but you have to be bleeding
internally. The blood… your mouth… it’s not right. The bullet’s
stuck somewhere it shouldn’t be. If I don’t get it out, you won’t
make it. It’ll take too much time to get to a hospital; you’ve
already lost so much blood. I have to try.”

I closed my eyes
and nodded. I had to trust that he knew what he was
doing.

Peter used the
dagger again to widen the wound. Sweat rolled down my face as he
finally used his fingers to stretch the wound enough to let the
knife slip behind the bullet and push it out. It felt like hours;
hot, probing, jagged pain surged through my body as he struggled
with the bullet. I tasted metal in my mouth, saw the room fade in
and out of colour.

“
It’s
done,” he said at last, looking paler than I probably was, and held
up the bullet. “Silver. Lucky you’re not a vampire, Ava.” Taking a
look at all of the blood I’d lost while he cut me, he shook his
head. “Lucky you’re not a human either.”

I gave a shaky
laugh and stopped crushing Eddie’s hand. He pushed Peter aside and
set to work cleaning my wound, using something strong-smelling to
patch me up. I saw his hands move swiftly to stitch, but I stopped
feeling every little pain. Peter lifted me slightly so Eddie could
wrap a clean white bandage right around my midriff. A sharp pain
ran right through me, and I grabbed hold of both men. Something
slid out of my mouth and fell to the floor with a light thud. I
heard a shriek, realised it was me, and lost myself in the
darkness.

***

I awoke in the
bed to Eddie and Peter whispering by the door.

“
Shut
up.” I licked my lips. “You sound like bees. Annoying.”

“
You
okay?” Peter asked, his face still pale.

I nodded. “Achy.
Not as bad.”

“
I
gave you a couple of things that should help. You had some kind of
a reaction; maybe it was the bullet, maybe the ointment I used, I’m
not sure.” Eddie looked puzzled. “You’ll be fine as long as you
take it easy. No fighting.”

I made a noise.
“No problem.” I tried to stretch and decided that was a bad
idea.

“
Blood?” Eddie asked.

I scowled at him
in answer.

“
At
least you’re feeling better,” he said, sighing.

I closed my eyes
and listened to the comforting sound of Peter’s heartbeat. “I’m
thirsty, though; I think I need to eat soon.”

“
Eddie, cook something for her. I’ll stay with her,” Peter
said.

Eddie looked me
over. “You sure you want to chance that?”

Peter nodded, and
Eddie left. Peter turned to me, his expression deadly serious. “We
need to talk.”

Daylight streamed
into the room. Confused, I stared at the window. “How long was I
out?”

“
Twelve hours, maybe? Eddie said it was something he gave you.
Helps heal, but it’s so painful he thought he should help you sleep
through it.”

“
Would’ve been nice to be asked.”

He shrugged. “You
would’ve said no.”

I stretched. My
limbs felt stiff, and my gut definitely hurt, but I felt okay, all
things considered. Maybe a little too okay. “He didn’t give me
blood again, did he?”

Peter shook his
head. He looked exhausted. He wasn’t a fan of the blood-drinking,
so I doubted he would lie. “Do you remember what
happened?”

I felt dizzy and
closed my eyes again. I tried to remember, but everything was dim,
as if a shadow covered my memories. I struggled to sort through it
all. Vampire. Gunshot. Peter. Silver bullet. None of it made sense
to me.

“
Why
were you there?” I asked, suspicion making my words sound harsher
than I intended.

“
Yvonne warned me something was going on. Something to do with
you,” he said, helping me as I struggled to sit up properly. I
glanced around for my coat, feeling panicked knowing the dagger was
away from me, but it hung safely on the back of the door, hopefully
with the dagger still intact.

I turned my
attention back to Peter. “So, who’s Yvonne? Your
girlfriend?”

“
Yeah,
well, no, actually, but she’s Daimhín’s day assistant, if that’s
who you mean.”

“
Right, of course.”

Fishing in his
pocket, he pulled out his wallet to show me a photo I had once
spotted, a little boy who looked a lot like Peter. Peter’s heart
rate sped up, and I felt my own anxiety increase alongside
his.

“
This
is my son. The woman you’re talking about is his aunt. I was in a
relationship with her sister. I lived with her family. Now they’re
all dead. I think it’s time we cleared up a few things.”

“
You
don’t have to—” I stopped when I saw the look in his
eyes.

“
Yes.
I do. You keep assuming things half right, and that’s dangerous.
For you.”

“
What
are you talking about, Peter?” My voice croaked, and I felt
vulnerable sitting wrapped up in bandages while he finally let me
in.

He hesitated. “I
didn’t think this would be a conversation I’d have with you. I
thought you were one of them at first, then I got to know you and
saw that you were about five hundred shades of grey.” He grinned
suddenly. “I still don’t get it.”

“
I
don’t get it either, Peter. What’s with you? You knew I didn’t want
to work with Daimhín, but you still sent me into that mess, then I
find out you’re all cosy with her personal assistant. You avoid me
for weeks and suddenly you’re all white knight when I get shot.
What’s going on?”

“
You’re right. I screwed you over. I wanted you to work for
Daimhín. I wanted you involved. I needed your help, but I didn’t
trust you enough to tell you why. Yvonne works for her because I
pushed her into it; I wanted her to look for information on who
killed her family.” His expression turned dark. “
My
family.
These people, these
creatures
, they don’t talk to humans,
but if you’re in with someone important, then you have a way of
finding out things, you know?”

I stared at him,
sickened. Now that he was actually being upfront, I was afraid to
hear it.

“
I
need you to understand now,” he said. “Who I am, and what I’m
prepared to do. You need to know. You’re right about some things; I
did
get you into a lot of this mess. When we first met, I
changed my mind and decided to help you because Eddie said you
could be the one to help me.”

I frowned. “I
don’t understand. How could Eddie know that?”

He smiled, but
his body tensed. “Eddie knows a lot of things.”

I felt like I was
peeping through somebody’s window, but I needed more. Part of me
wanted to hurt him, but part of me wanted to understand him. “What
happened
to you, Peter?”