Changeling (10 page)

‘How did my parents really die?’ Trey asked.

If Lucien was surprised by the change of subject, he didn’t show it. ‘They were murdered.’ He turned his face to the wind, blinking as it licked around his features. ‘Your father and I went on a mission together: we had become alerted that a particularly nasty djinn had escaped from the Netherworld into the human plane. The demon was too powerful for me to stop alone, and despite my promise not to call upon him, I asked for your father’s help.’ The vampire stopped and stared down at a point in the river below. ‘Caliban murdered your mother while your father and I were away. When he found out what had happened, your father set out to hunt Caliban down and avenge your mother’s death. Finally, after three months, he located him on an island in Tahiti and tried to raise a force against him. He did this without me because he knew that I would have tried to slow him down, tried to make him more cautious.’

He paused and tapped one of the fingernails of his manicured hands against the hollow aluminium rods that made up the guard rail. ‘Your father picked the wrong people to go into alliance with, and before he could attack my brother his so-called allies were bought off and turned against him.’ Looking up at Trey, he seemed to be weighing up how much he could reveal in one go, gauging the boy’s fragility before continuing.

‘He was beheaded and his body was burned in a fire-pit on the island of Moorea. As soon as I found out where he was and what he was planning, I went out there to stop him. But it was too late: he was already dead and my brother was gone.’

‘Why my mother? What had she done?’

Lucien shook his head. ‘She gave birth to you.’

Trey took this in as he looked out across the sickly metal-halide lit streets of Docklands. A cold wind tugged at the hem of his dressing gown.

He didn’t feel a world-shattering shock at learning the true story about the deaths of his parents, though he had always believed them to have been killed in a car accident. There was just a great, vast, black, empty void inside him now that nothing seemed to permeate.

Trey stared over at the creature standing next to him. He couldn’t look at Lucien without thinking of what he really was: an undead, blood-craving abomination. And yet, this thing had shown him nothing but kindness and respect since they had met.

He felt unable to cope with the sheer enormity of the revelations that had been made to him. He was aware, however, that something in his make-up had changed and that there was no going back to the way he was before.

Lucien looked over at him as if sensing the apprehension and fear that he was experiencing. ‘I know,’ he said, nodding his head sadly, reaching over to pat the boy on the forearm.

‘No, you don’t,’ Trey replied.

He looked at Lucien’s hand as it rested on the handrail beside him. He frowned at the smoothness of the skin on the back of the hand and the neatly manicured nails at the end of the slender fingers.

‘Vampires don’t shapeshift, do they, Lucien? Not in the way that you described to me yesterday, I mean,’ Trey asked.

Lucien looked over at him again, small creases momentarily forming in the gap between his eyebrows. ‘No,’ he said, ‘we can
mist
– which to anyone else would look like we were teleporting. In this way, we are able to disappear and reappear a short distance away almost instantaneously. But we are always in our vampire form. The bats are, unfortunately, a Hollywood invention. Why?’ he asked, with a puzzled smile.

‘I just assumed that vampires would all have the stereotypical fangs and claws that we see and read about. I mean, I would have thought those things were quite useful to a blood-sucking creature of the night.’ Trey regretted the venom in his tone. Lucien had done nothing to deserve his anger, but something in him wanted to make the older man feel uncomfortable.

‘I had them removed some time ago. Yes, before you ask, I still require a daily consumption of human blood. But, among my other businesses, I happen to own a blood research laboratory outside Oxford and so have a constant safe supply. Alexa, on the other hand, as a halfling, can suffice with a simple daily injection of a haemoglobin derivative, which she self-administers using an epipen. Besides,’ he continued, ‘my fangs reminded me of a time that I would rather try to forget, when I was younger and followed the desires that my kind are reviled for. I did some terrible things when I was younger, Trey, and now I must atone for those things. The work that I do – that your father did – is my attempt to put some of those horrors right.’

‘Those people at the home – some of them were good people,’ Trey said, looking down at his feet. ‘People like Wendy and . . . they died because of me, didn’t they?’

‘It wasn’t your fault. You must never think that,’ Lucien said. ‘If you had been there instead of here with us, you too would be among the ashes of your dead friends. If you truly want to honour your friends and family, join us in helping to stop my brother and his forces.’

Trey shivered as the cold wind blowing off the river ghosted through the balcony, bringing with it the sharp metallic smell of the water’s surface.

‘What happened to me last night, Lucien? Why did I start to change?’

‘The strong emotions you were experiencing caused you to start transforming into the werewolf. That can, and will, happen, very rarely, during moments of extreme duress, but as you discovered last night you have the power within you to suppress and control it. I have to say that it is impressive for one as young as you to have mastered such control at such an early stage of your lycanthropy.’

Trey paused, remembering, before going on. ‘The pain – it was intolerable. It felt as though my skin was being torn off. Every cell of my body was on fire and it consumed me. I don’t think that I could take that pain again and again, Lucien. Death would be a better option than that.’

Lucien looked at him and nodded his head in understanding. He reached forward and hooked the silver chain that hung inside Trey’s pyjama top with his thumb. Gently he pulled it towards him, until it stretched taut against the back of Trey’s neck, the silver amulet jittering against the chain in front of him.

‘The pain will not be like that when you
choose
to transform, Trey.’ Lucien released the chain, and clasped his hand on Trey’s shoulder, giving him a gentle reassuring shake. ‘This amulet will help, but you must master your condition, and when you have you will change from man to werewolf in an instant.’ He clicked his finger next to Trey’s ear. ‘Just like that.’

He stepped back and slid open the window behind him. ‘We will begin your training this afternoon. I want you to transform voluntarily, and we will all get a chance to see what you are made of. I, for one, am intrigued to see the wolf that lies inside you, Trey. And we must prepare you for what lies ahead. We will talk again shortly. There are still many things about Caliban and the dangers that lie ahead that you must know.’

He turned from the balcony and disappeared inside.

Trey turned back to the river, pulling his dressing gown around him against the cold wind that blew in off of the waterway’s surface. A squat tugboat cut through the choppy waters below, churning up a dirty grey wake as it forged its way through the black surface. Trey watched it battle its way against the tide before disappearing around the bend far away to his left.

I, for one am intrigued to see the wolf that lies inside you.

He shuddered.

Stranger in a Strange Land
, he thought. The title of a book that he’d read a few months before coming into his head. He wondered why this story should suddenly come back to him and then smiled ruefully at himself, remembering the ending of the book and how the lead character was brutally killed. He hoped it wasn’t a portent.

‘We’re a long way from Kansas, Toto,’ he said to himself, and turned to follow Lucien back inside.

Trey returned to his room and stayed there for the rest of the morning. He was hiding and he knew it, but he needed to get away from these people and his room seemed to be the only place left to him. He’d showered, standing under the hot needles of water for almost an hour, playing the events of the last twenty-four hours over and over in his mind and coming up with the same questions and conclusions. Eventually he dressed, and lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

At eleven o’clock there was a knock on his door. ‘Come in,’ Trey said.

He was surprised when he saw that it was Tom who opened the door. The tall Irishman stood in the opening as if he was loath to cross the divide that separated Trey and his solitude from the rest of the house. ‘Y’all right?’ he eventually asked.

‘Yeah, I suppose,’ Trey answered.

‘The others have gone out. Alexa has gone shopping with her friend Stephanie, and Lucien’s setting everything up downstairs for your little session this afternoon.’ He looked over at the boy, weighing him up. ‘Do you fancy a bite to eat and a cup of tea? Mrs Magilton’s just left, but she’s made up a ton of sandwiches for you and me. It’d be a shame to waste them.’ He paused, stepping away from the door, but leaving it open and not retreating fully. ‘Besides, you and I haven’t had a chance to have a chat yet.’

Trey slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, looking over at the Irishman. ‘What kind of sandwiches?’ he asked eventually.

‘You name it, she’s made it. C’mon, you’ve got another big day ahead of you, and as my old ma used to say, “You can’t stand up an empty sack.”’ He turned his back on Trey then and walked off in the direction of the kitchen.

Trey followed Tom and sat down at one of the chairs. The kettle was already making scratchy sounds as its element began to heat up, and Tom was retrieving a couple of mugs from the cupboard over the sink.

The morning papers were still on the table, their headlines full of stories about the fire at the care home. Trey pushed them aside, not wishing to see the grisly pictures inked on the covers.

Trey looked over at the broad back of the Irishman as he prepared the tea. ‘How long have you worked for him?’ Trey asked, cocking his head at Tom. It was a question that had been nagging at him (along with the other one that he hadn’t asked: ‘How can you bear to work for him?’)

‘Jeez, I don’t rightly know, longer than I care to remember.’ Tom placed a tea towel on the counter and leaned over to look down at Trey from the raised kitchen area. ‘You can trust him, Trey. I know this whole thing is like you’ve fallen down the rabbit hole and are suddenly trapped in some drug-fuelled Lewis Carroll nightmare, but you can trust him. He’s only got your best interests at heart.’

He went back to making the tea, leaving Trey to think about this.

‘Did he ask you to have a chat with me, Tom?’

‘Lord, no. Something like that wouldn’t occur to Lucien. He’s worried all right – worried that you’ll simply walk away and try to work this through yourself – but I think he believes that you’ll come round eventually, you know, once you’ve come to terms with everything. By the way, I wouldn’t really recommend the walking-away thing; this world has changed for you, and you’re going to need all the help you can get to cope . . . and survive.’

For some reason Trey had the distinct feeling that this was the most that Tom had spoken to anyone in a long time, and wondered if this stern individual was simply glad to have somebody
normal
around the place. Despite his harsh looks and gruff manner, there was something about Tom that made Trey feel at ease in his company, maybe it was because Tom didn’t seem to expect anything from him – he seemed to understand the confusion that Trey was feeling better than Alexa or Lucien. Or maybe it was because the man seemed so self-assured and some of that simply rubbed off on the people around him.

‘I just don’t feel comfortable in his company,’ Trey said after a while. ‘I can’t look at him without thinking about what he is and what he might have done.’

Tom brought the tea round and set one of the mugs in front of Trey. He leaned over and unwrapped the clingfilm from around the mountain of sandwiches set in the middle of the table, picking one of the dainty little triangles up in his big shovel hands and putting it whole into his mouth. ‘Are you scared of him?’ he asked.

‘Of course I am,’ Trey admitted, ‘but it’s weird, you know; it’s more than just fear. Every time I’m near Lucien I feel this great tide of anger building up inside of me. I’m not like that, Tom, I’m not an angry person.’

Tom pointed to the food and nodded his encouragement to Trey to join him in eating. He chewed thoughtfully on another sandwich, and Trey felt no need to break the silence that filled the room.

‘It’s only natural that you should feel angry with Lucien. Jeez, he practically abducts you from that care home, tells you that he’s a vampire, tells
you
that you’ve become a werewolf, drops the bombshell that his own brother is the murderer of your parents and that that same brother is hell-bent on wiping you off the face of the earth as well. It’s hardly a surprise that the harbinger of doom isn’t exactly top of your Christmas-card list.’

Trey nodded and picked up one of the sandwiches. ‘How did you come to work for him?’ he asked.

Tom set down his mug and put his finger in his mouth, picking at a piece of food that had become lodged in one of his teeth.

‘When I was a young man living in Ireland, I was a bit of a hellraiser. You know the type – the kind of cocky young fellow that thinks they’re bulletproof. A tough nut. Not a nice person to be around.’ He picked up another sandwich and looked down at its surface. ‘I fell in with a bad crowd. And some of these people . . . well, they weren’t quite what they seemed.’ He chewed on the food that he had managed to dislodge, and stared out of the window for a moment, remembering.

‘One weekend we’d planned to have a party at my uncle’s farm. He was going away on holiday, so we had the run of the place to ourselves. I was supposed to go over there on Saturday morning to get the place sorted, get the drinks and food in. But I finished work early on Friday and decided to go to the farm then instead. I was on my way through to the farmhouse with the groceries that I’d picked up when I heard a noise in the barn. Thinking that it was kids messing about, I decided to investigate. What I witnessed that night changed my life forever.’