The Vampire Gene (4 page)

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Authors: Jenny Doe

BOOK: The Vampire Gene
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CHAPTER 5

Angus

The drive up to the estate was for the most part uneventful. Rebecca told me of her childhood, and I gave her the abridged version of mine. We discussed her plans to finish her A levels, and the logistics of life after the wedding, particularly where we would live. She wanted to stay in the same house - it was almost opposite her mother's house, and near her school. I wondered if we would be better off in a larger place with limited access and better security. Our family holdings were extensive, and there were a few places within an hours drive of her mother's house that would fit the bill nicely. I didn't like the idea of living on a public road, especially with the threat of Jack and his dubious intentions hanging over us all. But security means different things to different people, and if it made my lady feel happy and secure to live near her family, I would have to accept the risk, and deal with it.

Marcus and Fergus had already arrived and settled in by the time we reached the estate. Rebecca took one look at the Bentley parked on the gravel outside, and started giggling. I glanced across at the gold coloured monstrosity, and shook my head. My brothers had never grasped the concept of being unobtrusive. I started wondering what Fergus had arranged wedding-wise. I would have to have a word with him.

 

Rebecca

Fergus, genius that he was, had arranged supper. I was starving by the time we got to Aberdeenshire. For some reason the idea of stopping at any of the the fast food joints along the way hadn't appealed to either of us, so the smell of what turned out to be steaks that wafted out of the front door made my stomach grumble. I had obviously abandoned my vegetarian past without a backward glance. The iron tablets I swallowed everyday also heightened my sense of smell, and those steaks smelled divine. Marcus greeted us at the door, and after one look at my expression, he waved us through to the kitchen, where Fergus was ladling mushroom sauce over four chunky steaks and the vegetables on the side that looked like they'd been an afterthought.

"Hi Fergus," I said, my eyes fixed on the closest steak.

He smirked, and handed me the plate. "And hello to you too Rebecca."

Fortunately everyone appeared to be as hungry as I was, and apart from a few perfunctory greetings, silence reigned as we sat around the old wooden kitchen table and ate.

"We need to plan for tomorrow," Marcus eventually stated between mouthfuls.

"What do you suggest?" Angus wanted to know.

"I thought we were just going to visit these guys," I interrupted, frowning. "What's to plan?"

"Could be a trap," muttered Fergus. "We don't know them at all, apart from the reading Angus got on that male at the airport. Sure, the family means us no harm, but that male seemed awfully keen on our little sister here."

I blushed. "Yes, but I'm not keen on him."

"That doesn't always mean much. I'm assuming you weren't keen on Jack, either, and look what happened there."

"Ew, that's gross." I shuddered. "Angus would have picked it up if he was intending to kidnap me." And then he would probably
have torn him apart right there and then in the airport, I thought to myself. Amazing how comforting that thought was. I looked up at my beautiful and dangerous man, and felt the now familiar heat in my belly. His eyes met mine, and I watched as his pupils dilated to fill the irises, and his nostrils flared.

"Get a room, guys," Ferg
us said, chuckling.

I blushed again, and looked down at my plate. Angus reached out and put his hand over mine.

"No, Fergus." Fergus looked appropriately penitent for a fleeting second, then he started smirking again.

"
I have my Glock and three magazines," Angus continued. "That, plus the three of us, should be enough to repel any amorous advances from any iron metaboliser. And don't forget that Rebecca is one of us too. She gets stronger every day, and it would take a lot of force to overpower her now. She's easily a match for one or two humans, and would give a vampire a hard time too."

"Actually," said Marcus, " I was thinking more along the lines of how we should approach them for tissue and blood samples. I don't think the Glock would be of much help in that situation, unless we wanted really big samples, like an entire brain."

"Typical," Fergus said dryly. "We should have known it was going to be all about the samples."

"Absolutely
," said Marcus simply. "You lot can handle the other details - I have supreme faith in your abilities with regards to non-scientific matters. For that reason I feel it is unnecessary to intervene, or even display any interest. However, I am quite willing to help you out if you insist on fighting." He grinned.

"You fight?" I tried not to sound too shocked. Marcus had always seemed so civilised, certainly more so than Fergus. And definitely more so than Angus.

"Yes, Rebecca, I fight. But unlike your Angus there, I only engage in physical combat when I have to. I don't go out looking for trouble."

"I think you're looking for it
right now," Angus said flatly, winking at me.

Marcus sighed and rolled his eyes.

Fergus and Angus started discussing some of the finer points of exterminating fellow vampires, and Marcus was gazing into space, in all likelihood dreaming of a world full of interesting blood samples, so I decided to go in search of a television, and try to engage with the normal world for a bit. Epic fail. The only thing I found that didn't make me yawn was the Jeremy Kyle show, and that just made me feel creeped out. I decided to watch a DVD - naturally the boys had an extensive collection - but it was all blood and guts and gore. I found one called Hitman, and loaded it in the DVD player. It was surprisingly good, and I spent a comfortable hour and some change watching the bad guys getting ten kinds of crap beaten and shot and sliced out of them. It was a very satisfying experience. I wondered if I would have enjoyed it as much before I became a vampire.

Probably not.

 

Angus

Rebecca had fallen asleep on the couch by the time we finished discussing the pending visit tomorrow. Fergus had also mentioned that he had been looking for institutions similar to the one that had housed the blood-drinkers that had kidnapped Rebecca. So far he had turned up very little, apart from the second one he'd found a few days ago when we were searching so desperately for Rebecca. We formulated a strategy for checking the place out, which basically involved Rebecca staying here under the watchful eyes of Marcus and Fergus, while I went to investigate, and possibly obliterate, the second site. Marcus interrupted his contemplation of the wall to demand tissue samples if I found blood drinking vampires, and I grinned and nodded.

Rebecca stirred slightly when I lifted her from the couch and carried her to bed. I removed her shoes and jeans, and covered her in the duvet, and lay down beside her. I was worried about the visit we had planned for the following day, but I had little to base my concerns upon, other than the desire I'd seen in that young vampire's eyes for my Rebecca. The memory made me growl. She was mine now, he would have to kill me before he could have her.

And good luck with that.

CHAPTER 6
Sunday 20 January

Rebecca

They had an awesome place, those new vamps. It looked like it needed its own brochure, it was so big. It was one of those country mansions with dozens of bedrooms, and manicured gardens and parks, and a great big gravel parking space out front, and a fountain, for goodness sake. Talk about ostentatious. Angus' place was big, but it didn't look like they were trying to prove something.

We were greeted at the door by the whole family. I was immediately drawn to Mrs Colborne, or Julia, as she introduced herself - just as well she did - she
looked about as old as her sons. She had a lovely face, with large grey eyes framed by pale lashes. When she saw me, she extended a hand and smiled welcomingly. Mr Colborne just stood there, a nice-looking man in his fifties or thereabouts, obviously not a vampire himself, looking slightly bored but willing to make an effort. The three siblings had varying reactions to our arrival. The two boys seemed pleased to see us - they introduced themselves as Simon (brown hair, golden eyes, big goofy grin) and Oliver (blonde, blue eyes, intense). We had seen Oliver at the airport, and he was still devastatingly gorgeous. I smiled at him, happy to see a familiar face, and his pupils dilated so his eyes were almost black, and he frowned.

"Stop teasing him," Angus' voice grated in my ear.

"I wasn't!" I objected in a whisper.

"Yes, you were. Don't smile at him, it just makes him angry."

"What?"

"He knows he can't have you. I can feel his thoughts, and your smiling at him frustrates him."

I said nothing, but pasted a grumpy look on my face and glanced at Oliver. He grinned back, obviously amused by something which I seemed to have missed. I turned my attention to the daughter (dark hair, dark eyes), who was introduced as Lucy. She gave me a hostile glare, not even bothering to hide it from her family. Her father noticed, and scolded her in a half-hearted way, and sent her to order tea to be brought to the sun room. We all traipsed through the massive reception area, and down a few passages to a light sunny room (hence the name sun room - just call me Sherlock) with high ceilings, massive windows, comfy looking leather couches strewn around, and a bookshelf lining an entire wall. A large section of the garden could be seen beyond the windows, with a park and a lake off to one side.

Mrs C smiled at me and patted the couch seat next to her, so I obediently sat down. Angus and Marcus were standing chatting to Mr C, and Fergus was sitting talking to Oliver and Simon. Lucy seemed to have disappeared, thank goodness. Hostile teenagers were tedious. True, I was a teenager, but I never got the point of being angry about everything. I suppose it's situational, and has a lot to do with hormones and brain development, and maybe she couldn't help feeling the way she did, but I was so over it. Mrs C must have sensed my antipathy.

"Never mind Lucy, she has been very grumpy recently. She has not shown any signs of becoming one of us yet, and I think it makes her feel left out," she whispered conspiratorially.

"Oh," I said. "You mean she hasn't started to metabolise iron yet?"

"No. How did you find out about the iron?"

"Their dad," I waved a hand in Angus and Marcus' direction, "he figured it out. And then Marcus managed to find the responsible genes. That's how they found me. They analysed my blood."

"Clever," she nodded. "Your parents?"

"Marcus thinks they must have both carried the recessive gene. My brothers aren't iron metabolisers. Just me."

"Recessive? We weren't sure of the mode of inheritance. I wondered if it might be autosomal dominant with variable penetrance," she glanced at me, and burst out laughing at my expression. "I have a degree in genetics," she explained. "I was never able to officially study our family, though. Might have raised some eyebrows in the academic world, and we don't need the attention. Autosomal recessive. Hmmm. That actually explains a lot."

"Like what?" I wanted to know.

"Lucy, for one. And Bill doesn't metabolise iron, though his mother did. We never knew who his father was. I married him because I knew his mother was an iron metaboliser, and I just assumed...." she sighed. "But he's not one, and now he's getting old, and I'm not." She looked across the room at her husband. "And Lucy will too." At the mention of her daughter ageing a sorrowful expression settled on her face.

"
How old is she?" I asked.

"Sixteen. Simon is fifteen."

"She might still change, you know," I said hopefully. "I only changed a few days ago, and I'm almost eighteen. Marcus reckons it's because I was a vegetarian and drank lots of tea. And then I met Angus and he kind of precipitated the change..." I broke off, not wanting to explain the details.

"Really? That's good news. I'll have to let them know
. Anyway, I am sure there are questions you have for me." She looked at me expectantly.

"Um, like what?"

She chuckled at my confusion. "Girl things. You already know we live for a couple of hundred years, but we can have babies right up until we die, more or less. Our pregnancies are a bit longer though - eleven months."

I hadn't even considered the possibility of babies. Good grief. I imagined making babies with Angus, and blushed furiously. Fortunately the tea tray arrived, and I was able to drag my thoughts away from the man who would be my husband in a few days. I stood up and scooted across to the tea tray, where a motherly looking middle aged woman was pouring it out. She handed me a cup and saucer, and when our fingers touched she jumped slightly.

"Sorry. It's my shoes," I tried to explain. For the past couple of days I'd been shocking anyone I touched, like you do when you wear rubber shoes on a fuzzy carpet. I'd blamed the new trainers Angus got for me and insisted I wear for generating too much static electricity, and decided I needed to replace them as soon as possible. It was getting on my nerves.

"My shoes sometimes do that on this carpet," Lucy appeared out of nowhere and smiled at me. I grinned at her, relieved that she a
ppeared to have ditched the rude teen thing. "If you want," she continued, " I can show you the rest of the house later. Most of it has wooden or stone floors, so no static."

"That sound's great." I lied. I wasn't that keen on rambling through this enormous house - I had a strongly proletariat background, and this grandiose display of affluence didn't sit well with me. The cost of one of these couches could probably feed a village in Africa for a year. But I guessed was here to build bridges, not burn them, so I pretended to admire the opulence. Eventually I looked up and caught Oliver staring at me. He shrugged apologetically, and winked at me. I grimaced back at him and he grinned. Angus looked up suddenly, frowning slightly at Oliver. I guess he must have sensed what Oliver was thinking, and he didn't like it. I wandered over to where he stood, and put my arm around his waist. He smiled down at me and pulled me closer.

"I am going with Lucy to have a look around the older parts of the house," I told him in a low voice. He kissed the top of my head, and I stood for a while, wrapped in his arm and leaning against him, and listened to Marcus holding forth about his research. Mrs Colborne had joined them earlier, and seemed fascinated with everything that he said, but Mr C had developed a glazed look in his eyes. I felt sorry for him. Marcus was a lot to take in one go, and from the sounds of things he had found a kindred spirit in Mrs C and was using even longer words than usual. Mr Colborne cleared his throat genteelly and muttered something about checking on a mare in the stables, and made his escape. Angus and I exchanged a glance, and I giggled.

"I have to go," I told him, looking across the room to where Lucy stood expectantly. "See you in a bit."

"Don't leave me," he pleaded teasingly.

"You're a big strong man, you can take it," I assured him, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Traitor," he whispered in my ear. "You and I will have to
discuss
this later."

I giggled and blushed like a little girl. Pathetic.

"You coming?" Lucy appeared at my elbow, and smiled radiantly at Angus.

"Absolutely," I stated, deciding that she needed to be removed from Angus' vicinity as soon as possible. She really was very pretty when she wasn't having a strop. Angus didn't seem to notice, though. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at me and grinned wickedly.

"Let's go," Lucy didn't seem to like not being the centre of attention. I was happy to oblige - my face felt like it was on fire, and the fluttering sensation in my belly was back again. I kept my eyes on the floor until I was sure we'd left the sun room.

"OK, I was thinking we could start in the older parts of the building. One of the wings dates from just after William the Conqueror, and you can see all the old roof beams. One of them looks like they just split a big old oak tree in half and used the two halves to form an arch. It's all smoke stained and filled with old nails. It's beautiful." Lucy chattered as we wandered down a large passage, the soles of my trainers squeaking on the polished stone floor. In spite of myself, I was starting to get excited. Lucy's enthusiasm was contagious, and I had always had a soft spot for history. Especially the kind where you didn't have to learn loads of facts, but where you could just stand in an old building, and close your eyes, and inhale the ancient odours and feel the rough hewn walls and worn floor boards, and actually
feel
that connection to people who had lived there centuries ago.

"So this is the wing I was telling you about," Lucy said as we entered a new room. The beams were lower than those in the passage, and you could see they had not been near any modern machinery. The tool marks from ancient adzes and axes were still visible under the soot stains.

"It's beautiful," I breathed, gazing at the beams and at the supports embedded in the stone walls.

"Isn't it just? And the next one is even better - it's bigger, and we think it was probably some sort of meeting hall..."

We stepped through a doorway into a beautiful old room with soaring beams and a great solid door set in the far wall. There was a more modern looking table in the centre, capable of seating dozens of people, and there was someone sitting at the farthest end. I turned to ask Lucy who that could be, but she was no longer there. I watched as a thick wooden door swung shut behind her, and heard the creaking of a key being turned in the lock. It took a few seconds for the whole situation to sink in.

I had been locked in a room with a stranger. Great.

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