The Sweet Scent of Blood

Chapter Sixteen

I found the fang-gang in a narrow passage way behind The Leech. Standing in the shadows, I peered down the alley. There was just enough moonlight to boost my vampire sight. Cherub Cheeks, Zigzag and Mr June were gathered in a semi-circle facing Gazza and another vamp with long platinum-blond hair wearing a red poet’s shirt. He had his arm slung over Gazza’s shoulder. He’d been the one my eyes kept sliding away from in the pub. Was it just a neat vampire trick I hadn’t come across before, or some sort of magic?

They’d picked their site well: escape routes at either end, no windows above to shed any light and the half dozen large bottle-skips parked along the alley’s brick wall to give them some privacy. Only another vamp might notice them, and depending on their inclination, they’d either ignore what was happening or join in. It was the Beater goblins and their silver-foil covered bats the fang-gang wanted to avoid.

I clenched my fists. I knew what was coming next, and I couldn’t stop it, not yet—four against one meant the odds were definitely not in my favour. I could alert the Beaters myself, but Gazza didn’t have that much time on his side and all it would gain him would be months of treatment at HOPE and a lifetime popping G-Zav pills.

If he even survived.

So I watched, frustration and hunger eating away like acid at my insides.

Red Poet vamp wrapped his forearm round Gazza’s neck. ‘Party time,’ he crooned.

‘What—?’ Gazza’s startled cry fizzled out as his windpipe and vocal chords were almost crushed.

‘Shhh.’ Red Poet stroked Gazza’s cheek, then shoved his head back at an awkward angle. ‘C’mon boys,’ he said to the other vamps, ‘time to play.’

Gazza’s arms flailed, fingers clutching at the empty air.

‘My turn now, man.’ Zigzag grabbed the edges of Gazza’s PVC coat and wrenched it down, trapping his arms against his body.

Gazza’s boots scuffed along the gravel.

I dug in my pocket, removed the Union Jack badges.

‘Gotta bleedin’ luv it, mates.’ Cherub Cheeks gave a low whooping laugh as he yanked Gazza’s PVC trousers to his knees, effectively hog-tying his legs.

Gazza’s lower body jerked, hip bones sticking out like chicken wings above tiny red satin briefs.

I shrugged out of my own jacket and spread it out on the cobbles at the end of the alley. Hiding the badges under it, I flicked on their switches.

Mr June fisted his hands in Gazza’s T-shirt and hissed as he tore it apart, exposing Gazza’s thin, safety-pin-decorated chest. He ripped a pin out of Gazza’s left nipple, held it up to check it, then tossed it over his shoulder. ‘We’re okay, chaps, its stainless steel.’

Gazza’s ribs heaved with each frightened breath.

Red Poet reared back, all four fangs glistening in the moonlight.

I hugged myself, pressed my lips hard together, trying to ignore the excitement frothing through my own veins.

A high, thin squeal, like a pig having its throat cut, pierced the night, sharp scents of blood and venom tainted the air and harsh wet sucking noises permeated the darkness.

I scrunched my eyes tight and leaned back against the brick wall, listening ...

Muffled whimpers, the low hum one of the vamps made as he fed, the rapid beat of Gazza’s heart as fear and venom-induced adrenalin pumped his virgin blood faster and faster ...

I wanted to blank out the sounds of the attack, but that was too dangerous. If I was to save Gazza, I had to get it right. Shit. This part of Sucker Town was supposed to be safer. I was going to have to extend my own hunting territory in future. After a while I opened my eyes and stared up at the stars blinking wearily through London’s light pollution, waiting.

‘Bleedin’ fantastic, mates.’

The voice made me jump. I took a cautious look down the alley.

‘Takes the taste of troll tits right outta yer mouth.’ Cherub Cheeks smacked his lips.

Showtime.

I snatched up my jacket, shoved it on. The three badges were still bravely flashing their little batteries out.

‘Beaters,’ I called in a loud whisper, keeping to the shadows. ‘Beaters are coming!’

‘Bloody hell!’ Zigzag’s head shot up and he looked towards me.

Cherub Cheeks slapped Mr June and Red Poet on their shoulders. ‘Oi, up, mates, git a bleedin’ move-on. I can see their bleedin’ trainers!’

All four rose as one and almost silently sprinted away in a rush of disturbed air, disappearing out the other end of the alley.

I scooped up my badges, flicked off their lights and walked over to Gazza. He was lying as the vampires had left him, eyes wide and unfocused, held prisoner by his own clothes. Shivers racked his body and dark blood streamed from the bites, four of them in total. I’d only given the vamps enough time for one bite each, but I still counted them, to be sure.

My mouth watered. Shit. I turned away and kicked one of the large skips full of empty bottles, then punched it several times, denting the steel. As I slowly licked the blood from my knuckles I felt the craving recede.

I knelt and checked the pulse in his neck. It battered away, fast and shallow, like the heart of a terrified rabbit.

‘Not what you were expecting, was it, Gazza?’ I murmured.

The four vamps had taken him out to dinner, and then some. He was lucky his heart was young and healthy—but he was still losing blood, and if the bites weren’t closed, he’d bleed out. And be just as dead.

I gave him a mocking smile. ‘And we wouldn’t want that, would we?’

Bending over him, I licked at the bite in the crook of his arm. The metallic taste of his blood burst over my tongue. The adrenalin made it sweet and frothy, like a fizzy drink. The stream slowed then stopped as my vamp saliva speeded up the clotting process. I took a non-breath and forced myself to spit out his blood, rather than do what I really wanted to—roll it round my mouth... and swallow.

I tore a strip off his ruined T-shirt and bandaged it round his arm. He let out a quiet whimper as I carefully pulled his coat up and over his shoulders. I turned to the bites on his legs next. He had one on the inside of each thigh, high up, close to the groin. His red briefs were wet with his own blood.

I sighed. ‘Shame they couldn’t have picked a less awkward spot, Gazza,’ I muttered, though of course I knew the answer to that one: fang-gangs went in for veins in a big way. I closed the first bite and wrapped more material around his skinny thigh. The other was higher, half-covered by the soft bulges in his briefs. Gingerly, I pushed the red fabric lumps out of the way and started on the bite.

Something stirred under my fingers. I rolled my eyes. Males were all the same. What with all that adrenalin and blood pumping round his body, it hadn’t taken much for his hormones to spring to life—even if he was halfway to dying.

The blood clotted under my tongue. I sat up and spat it out, then started shredding more T-shirt. His briefs hadn’t managed to contain his excitement and he poked out, twitching almost as much as he was shivering.

‘C’mon, Gaz, give it a rest, will you,’ I muttered. ‘Try using that blood somewhere more sensible, like your pea-sized brain.’

In answer, his shivers changed to full-blown tremors. Damn. He was going into seizure. Red Poet must’ve shot him up with more venom than I’d thought.

I gripped Gazza’s bony shoulders. He jerked like he’d been hit by a massive stun-spell and his knee jolted up, caught me in the chest and sent me sprawling. He panted open-mouthed and his lips started to turn blue—his venom-fuelled blood was rushing too fast through his lungs to consider stopping to pick up oxygen. I flung myself on top of him, using my bodyweight to keep him still.

The venom had to come out, and fast.

His spine bowed, nearly throwing me off again. Grabbing his hair, I wrenched his head to the side. A flash of Red Poet doing the same before he struck left a slimy feeling in my gut. The last bite was high up—it had missed the carotid artery by a goblin’s whisker—and clear fluid leaked out of the pinprick marks, not blood. I clamped my mouth down, my fangs piercing the swelling skin. Liquid fire streamed down my throat. The world went silver and shiny and hazy—it felt like every cell in my body was expanding, drinking in the venom, and I was losing the parched, tight, coldness that was my usual existence.

I sucked, mindless as a newly Gifted vampire, revelling in the pulsating heat spreading out through my body. Fingers groped at me and I moaned in pleasure. The jerks beneath me took on a rhythm, old as ages and I ground myself against him, wanting more. Hot breath panted in my ear, smells of salt and sweat teased my nose, metallic copper taste filled my mouth ...

I snapped my head up, awareness returning with the first swallow of blood.

Gazza grunted, his hands clutching at my back and then his chicken-wing hips jerked one last time. For one frozen moment I looked at him. His black eyeliner was smudged beneath his eyes, angry red spots dotted his chin, and with each exhalation a gob of snot ballooned around the safety pin in his right nostril—

I’d blown out the male model and Corset Girl for this?

I really was a sucker.

Rising onto my hands and knees above him, I spat, trying again to get rid of the taste of his blood. His heart beat fast and shallow under his thin ribs, but it no longer pounded at the same dangerous rate as before. I closed my eyes briefly. My own heartbeat had restarted, a slow strong thud in my chest, but frustration and need still clawed inside me. Even now, sated with venom, I wanted more. A voice in my mind screamed at me to take what I wanted—what I needed.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

I had virtually raped him, a kid—never mind I’d probably saved his life, never mind that he’d probably enjoyed it. He hadn’t been in a position to choose. A buzzing started in my ears, my stomach heaved...

A hand grabbed my hair, nearly ripping it from my scalp, and I crashed into the wall of the alley. My skull cracked against the brick and stars exploded in my head.