Bad Timing Read online

  “Yeah, I know Tate.”

  “He trusts him, can’t think why.”

  I snorted and pulled my legs up so I could sit with them beneath me. The Irish wind was climbing the wall and pulling at my shirt, which had been torn in battle.

  Lyle gently put an arm about my shoulders. “I’m glad you’re here, gorgeous. Without Philippe, you and Tate are the only family I have left.”

  I shrugged off his arm. Ever the diplomat, Lyle just about managed to hide his look of disappointment.

  “How many people have you here?”

  “Some five hundred and more animals that you can shake a sharp stick at.”

  “Yeah? How’d that happen? You’re not an animal loving kind of guy.”

  “It was Tate. When Ireland got infected, he went and freed all the animals from nearby farms, kennels, rescue centers, even some laboratories. They followed him home.”

  “We can’t drink animals; why the Pied Piper routine?”

  “Tate saved them because he wanted to, not to eat them, but to give them a chance at life, to save them. That crazy vamp has a heart the size of all Christendom I think he’s got a bit of a Noah complex too.”

  “Yes, him I understand. But come on...” I gestured to the elaborate secure town sized compound, “this didn’t just spring up overnight. What do you know?”

  “Actually the question is, who do I know?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  After a quick clean-up, Lyle walked me through his streets; it was like the zombies had never happened here. Children were playing football; people were gossiping and even laughing. Horror hadn’t tainted this place. He even joined in their game scoring an unlikely goal with vampiric speed.

  “I’m surprised you’re not kissing babies,” I mumbled at him.

  Lyle bowed, reminding me of Philippe. “That’s tomorrow’s photo opportunity.” He waggled his eyebrows at me and chuckled.

  In the middle of the compound was a clean, white building that stunk of chemicals. I hated labs. I’d spent my fair share of time in one or two and the sight of white coated nerds made me shudder.

  “Brit, this is Xyla,” Lyle said as we were approached by a brown haired middle aged woman.

  “I’m so happy to see you finally awake!” she gushed.

  I extended a hand, but she sidestepped it and lurched forward to hug me like a long lost friend. I easily avoided her, letting her trip over her own feet and fall into Lyle’s arms.

  “Oh, umm, yes,” she whispered.

  "Don’t mind our Brit, she’s incredibly anti-social.” Lyle helped her upright and glared at me over her shoulder. “Xyla helped you when you first came in. She nursed you back to health.”

  Feeling a slight pinprick of guilt, I smiled at her. “You look just like Sandra Bullock,” I said.

  “Oh, my, thank you.” Xyla grinned.

  “It was an observation not a compliment,” I stated.

  “Umm, that’s okay. I’ll still take it as compliment. I just loved her in Practical Magic.”

  “Yes.” I nodded in the hope that the conversation was going to start steering in a less flippant direction.

  “Xyla is my friend. One of the people I wanted you to meet before you went all violent.” Lyle punched my arm and I resisted the urge to pick up the nearest Bunsen burner and strangle him with the gas pipe.

  “Yes, umm, I worked in the original lab that engineered the zombie virus.” She looked at her feet and Lyle moved closer to my side, his hand twitching in anticipation of my reaction.

  “Explain.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Well, I was hired, along with many others, to engineer a virus. Actually it was meant to do something other than re-animate corpses.”

  “Of course it was,” Lyle soothed.

  “So when I learnt what was going to happen with it, I reached out to a journalist, who turned out to be Lyle here. We had just enough time to set this place up.”

  “Not try and stop it then? Your first reaction was damage control?” I turned to Lyle, who looked like a he’d sold a prize cow for magic beans.

  “Sometimes damage control is all you can do,” he said.

  “So how come I’m still me?” I looked down at my familiar body, still pale, only slightly muscular but no decay or rotted flesh dripping off my bones, not yet anyway.

  “Well, that is very interesting,” Xyla said reaching for a nearby microscope, “here, you can see.” She gestured for me to look.

  “I really don’t have the time to do the homework, can’t you skip the science lesson and just tell me?” I had to see Josh again, apologize for punching him in the face.

  “Sure, well. It seems that your blood has a natural, ummm defense system.”

  “Tell her what that means,” Lyle urged.

  “Okay, so it would appear that it was your blood that we were given to engineer the virus, which means that you are immune.”

  “No, I felt it, I knew it was taking hold of me, back in England I could control the zombies, just like Philippe….” My voice trailed off at the mention of his name.

  “Okay, then we need to look into that.” Xyla stared at her notes, then began to wander off into the direction of a group of scientists who were too afraid to get any closer to me.

  “What is the collective noun for nerds?” I asked Lyle nodding to them.

  “When did you get all Mean Girls?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Crap, I think I’m actually more scared of getting an apology from you.”

  “Now who’s the mean girl,” I said punching Lyle’s arm. He stumbled a little at the blow.

  “You’re stronger than I remember.”

  The world started spinning again. I sat on a nearby stool to stop it.

  “Are you okay?”

  I stared up at Lyle, “So Jack, as he’s my child, he would be immune too?”

  “I’m not sure, it’s not like we could test the theory.”

  “Would Xyla be able to figure it out?” The sudden hope that at least Jack would be safe from the zombies flooded my chest.

  “I guess, Xyla is an exceptional blood expert, she’s being doing a lot of research into our kind. But since you showed up, she’s been in overdrive. It would appear that the Elders’ no women vampires rule was not just because they considered ladies to be more emotional,” Lyle said then picked a nearby iPad. He swished something over the screen and showed me a kind of recipe of percentages, “but, it would appear that male vampires take on the blood of their sire, making them easier to control; their sire’s blood literally runs through their veins, where as a female vampire’s blood remains her own, only the magic is transferred that turns her. If the theory holds, Jack would take on your blood and be immune.”

  “What does that mean, bigger picture?”

  “It’s open to interpretation, but I think it means that there is a lot of vital information about our kind that the Elders have kept from us.”

  “Does Nicholas know any of this?” I asked.

  Lyle narrowed his eyes, then dropped down onto the stool next to me. We sat in silence for a comfortable five minutes, staring at the wall opposite us. My mind was rolling around this new, highly uncomfortable information. Lyle, who had always held a slightly suspicious view of Nicholas, spoke first.

  “How old do you think he really is?”

  “I think he’s much older than he’s letting on.”

  “Is he that devious, that you could hide his age?”

  “Hell yes, he’s that devious, but what could he gain from this? Is this whole zombie apocalypse happening because Nicholas wanted to rebel against the Elders? Is this some kind of psychotic, if I can’t have the world no one will, thing?”

  “You think he financed the virus research and gave them your blood?”

  “How would he get my blood?”

  Lyle shifted on his stool so he could face me. “Many sires keep a stash of their children’s blood from when they turn them. It was common prac
tice hundreds of years ago, but it is only meant to be used for ceremonies. Nicholas would never be allowed to do that.”

  “If he’s as old as we think he could be running The Elders. This could be about something else entirely.” I pulled my hair behind my ears and sighed.

  “There are more vampires in the world than you think. Perhaps this has nothing to do with Nicholas.”

  “But he’s the only one with access to my blood.”

  The door opened and we both jumped. Fortunately it was Tate, who emerged with a leather bag. “What are you guys conspiring about?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” we both replied together. Lyle grinned.

  “Whatever you say.” He eyed us for a moment then reached into the leather bag. “I thought you might want these, honey.” He pulled out a large ornate wooden box. “Philippe bought them for you.”

  “What are they?” I reached across and took the box. It opened with a smooth hinge and inside was a small doll that popped to life above a large folded silk scarf. The room filled with a soft tune and the little doll, that looked an awful lot like me when I was human, danced in delicate movements. “A jewelry box?”

  “Kind of, but you were never one for jewels, look,” Tate said, moving to pull at the silk scarf to reveal a pair of perfectly sculpted golden scythes.

  I bit my lip to stop from crying.

  “I also got you this.” Tate pulled a box from inside his jacket. It was blue hair dye.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jack was talking a mile a minute. For some reason he felt like he had to tell me every little thing that had happened since I had fallen unconscious.

  “So, Nicholas got you onto the ferry, and as we sailed to Ireland, the people you’d rescued fed you. We just kept giving you blood. I think the plan was to flush the virus out of your system, but when we got here Xyla, you’ve met Xyla right, isn’t she lovely, well Xyla took some samples from you and did her science thing, then said that you were recovering. We just kept feeding you, hoping you’d wake up and still be you, and of course you are you, aren’t you Brit?”

  I flipped my head down and ruffled my newly dyed hair with a towel. “Yes, Jack. I’m still me. Please don’t break into song.”

  “What song? Anyway, so you’ve seen Hope and Glory, isn’t it awesome and the people are super nice. They donate blood for us vamps to drink. The wall keeps most of the zombies away and we patrol to ensure that anything that makes it over, doesn’t do any damage. Oh, Tate and Lyle are so cool. And Nicholas has been looking after me…”

  “What? I told you not to hang around with him. He’s up to something and much more dangerous that you know. Look what he did to Josh!” I flailed my arms in the air to punctuate my point.

  “Nicholas only did what Josh asked.”

  I looked up and saw that Jack’s grin had become more sheepish.

  “Really? Josh had no gentle shoves in the direction of becoming Nicholas’s undead pawn?”

  “I know you don’t like him, but he’s been kind to me…”

  “Don’t you put any trust in that bastard, Jack.” I moved to face my protégé. I put my hands up onto his shoulders and looked him square in the eye. He had to know that I wasn’t playing around about this, I wasn’t just talking about an ancient grudge, but from newer, more worrying information. “He’s not what you think, you hear me?”

  Jack nodded. “What about Tate and Lyle?”

  “Tate you can trust till the cows come home, Lyle as far as you can throw the cow.”

  “That’s pretty far now, I’m stronger than I look.” Jack grinned and winked at me.

  “Okay, but Lyle can be cunning. I’m still unsure of the whole time line on Lyle Land. He’s still keeping something from me. I know it.”

  “But we like Lyle more than Nicholas?”

  “No, we love Lyle. We trust Nicholas as far as we could throw a whole herd of cows.”

  “Understood. Now, come on, Mum, I want to show you around properly.”

  “I told you, I’m not your mum.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  With his amazing organizational skills, Lyle had arranged for all the humans in Hope and Glory to donate a pint of blood a month. There was no hunting here, no biting, no fear. I kind of missed the old days when you could stalk your prey and watch the terror cloud their face as you sank in your fangs, but this quiet understanding of our dietary needs was kind of nice too. I didn’t have to hide who I was anymore, and my ass-kicking skill set was turning out to be really handy in keeping the town safe from the dead ‘bad element’ that was drawn to our walls.

  Nicholas avoided me. I heard his name mentioned but didn’t see him anywhere. There was just a faint whiff of his lingering scent. It must have taken an amazing amount of effort for him to do that, especially as Tate, Lyle and Jack were the only other vampires here. Josh was under quarantine, he hadn’t been injured at all when Nicholas had turned him, and like me when I was turned, he was experiencing an extreme hunger and strength which would put the humans in danger. Nicholas’s lies were starting to unravel around him, and the dangling strings of his deceit we beginning to trip him up.

  Jack was looking after Rose and Rowan. I was so proud of him I was ready to burst. He was patience and caring, and as I sat sucking on a blood baggie, watching him play football with them on the lawn with Ryan and Satan, I felt that finally I was home.

  “Hey, honey,” Tate said as he sat down beside me, our sides touching.

  “You guys have done a great job here.”

  “Yeah, Lyle is good at this kind of stuff.”

  “We all have our roles to play.” I didn’t look at Tate as we talked. I was still staring at the kids, playing like nothing had changed, like the world hadn’t just crumbled into a flesh tearing zombie apocalypse.

  “I knew you’d get here,” Tate said.

  “I knew you’d never stop trying to find me.”

  I turned to him and watched as he pulled out a flask and two mugs from his bag. When he opened it, the rich familiar aroma of tea pushed its way into the air.

  “Ah, the tea you promised me.”

  He grinned and poured me a cup. We sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, peace starting to settle over me, washing the blood from my hands, easing my bones.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Tate whispered.

  “Me too. I’m so sorry about Philippe.”

  “Nicholas said you killed him.” Tate raised an eyebrow.

  That unbelievable asshole hadn’t even told them the full story. He’d tried to alienate me from my last two friends.

  “Tate, I…”

  “Hell, Brit, both me and Lyle know you did what you had to.”

  Would it help if I told them the whole truth? The hard fact that Nicholas’s child Ichabod had lived and he was the one that had opened Philippe’s door that night, infected him while he slept. I would want to know everything, if it was me; I’d demand all the facts, whether they hurt or not. Tate deserved to know.

  “It wasn’t an accident,” I said.

  Tate took another sip of tea. “I realised that. I mean, he didn’t cut his own head off.”

  “He was infected on purpose.”

  Tate was facing me now, his eyes hard and his fingers gripping his mug a little too tightly.

  “Ichabod. He did it.”

  “He was killed years ago.”

  “Philippe lied. He got Ichabod and his child out of Britain.”

  “Why would he do something so dumb?” Tate waved his hands about and hot tea sloshed over his jeans.

  “Everyone could be saved in his eyes. It was both his best and worst quality.”

  Tate let out a breath and nodded. “If you had to do it all over again, would you?”

  “It wasn’t Philippe anymore. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

  “No, not that. I understand, you had to do that. I mean from when Nicholas let you go and you were attacking all of your brothers, Philippe told us he offered you a home
. Why didn’t you take it?”

  “I had other things to do.”

  “He helped you though, right. Just like he helped me and Lyle, become what we always should have been.”

  “He opened certain doors for me. I bounced from one place to another learning what I needed. I became a better fighter.”

  “Philippe told me once that you only ever spoke two words in ten years.”

  My memories were so clear from that time. It was when I had learnt to fight, to be a better hunter, a better killer. I’d travelled to monasteries, boarded pirate ships, explored rain forests, joined dojos, invaded aristocratic estates, become part of a circus, and even worked on a rather specialised farm. All that time I had only ever muttered two words to the experts I found there.

  “Teach me,” I said, “If I hadn’t have done that, maybe I wouldn’t be here now with you drinking a rather fine blend of tea and watching children play in the sun.”

  “Maybe you’d have been here years earlier.”

  “Ever the optimist, Tate.”

  “Ever the pessimist, Brit.” Tate leaned over and hugged me with one arm. Jack stopped playing and looked over at us. He waved then the kids, he and Satan bounded over. Tate poured them all tea and we sat together; the family I’d daydreamed of having was now all around me.

  No more decapitations, no more smelling like a zombie, no more having to convince humans to trust me. This cobbled together community of Lyle’s was working and for once I could just…be.

  Until the siren went off that is.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Me, Jack and Tate ran toward the sound, which was coming from the lab. We met Xyla at the front door, “Quickly!” she yelled at us. It was the first time I’d heard her raise her voice.

  Inside, Lyle was with Green… and Nicholas. I stopped in my tracks when I saw him. He had the decency to look at his feet then shuffle to the side.

  “Lyle, what’s going on?” Tate asked.