Falling Apart (10 page)

When I got home, Zan was sitting on the sofa fiddling with his Blackberry. There was a half-drunk glass of Synth on the table and classical music filled the room through almost invisible speakers. Clearly a wild night
chez
Bitey.

He looked up as I came in. ‘Ah, Jessica. There is some … human food in the kitchen, if you are hungry.'

I stared at him, grateful that my astonishment at his sudden civility allowed me to cover my distressed expression. ‘Did I just come in the wrong house? Or are we starring in some kind of vamp remake of
The Odd Couple
?'

An inclination of the head and he turned back to the phone. ‘I merely thought you might wish to eat,' he said. ‘I didn't realise we were going to be partaking in
Mastermind
.'

‘Sorry. Yes. It's been a bit of a weird day.'

‘Another one?'

‘I think it's my default setting. Look, I'm a bit tired and I've got a killer headache; I think I'll just go to bed, Zan.'

A totally unreadable look from those green-marble eyes; then a slow nod. ‘Of course. I sometimes find myself forgetting your human bloodline. You need sleep. Of course,' he repeated.

Should I tell him?
‘I had a strange phone call on my way home,' I said carefully, watching his face, although I didn't know why – Zan could have given snakes lessons. ‘I think it might have been Sil trying to make contact.'

He looked back down to the phone in his hand. ‘He has attacked humans, Jessica. For the sake of the Treaty there is only one course of action open. He must know that, and for the sake of your position I trust you understand what must be done.'

I sighed. ‘Empathy, Zan. It's a real thing you know.'

He didn't look up. ‘Alas, like a flat of your own and a car, it is evidently one of those things you cannot afford.'

‘I meant
you
,' I said and he looked up again.

‘And how long would this city remain if I were empathic, do you think? All those pleas for clemency, all those “It was just the one …” How many times could we allow the Treaty to be broken before it became commonplace – or do you feel it should be different because it is
you
?' There was a surprising tightness around his mouth as he spoke, a betrayal of some emotion, and, as far as I knew, Zan had had all his emotions removed a long time ago. And probably pickled. He stood up, surprisingly imposing. ‘If it starts with your lover, Jessica, where does it end? We excuse your family, then your friends, then someone you once met at a party?' He was angry now, his fangs covering his lower lip, his breath hissing in and out. I found my hand travelling to the tranq gun in my pocket and I really hoped I wasn't going to have to use it: knocking out my housemate would be horribly embarrassing, plus I'd be on washing-up duty forever.

‘I know, Zan. Really, I do.' That still image from the camera footage was stuck in my mind like a fishbone in a throat; Sil, with blood in his hair and on his cheek, lips curled back over reddened fangs.

‘I hope you do, Jessica.' The fangs betrayed his remaining anger, but he sat down and picked up the phone again. ‘I hope you do.'

There was nothing further I could say, so I left him to his reprogramming and went upstairs to lie on the bed and to speak to the one person who would understand.

Liam was clearly doing something with the hand not holding the phone but, since I knew Liam quite well, I didn't want to ask what it was. ‘Did he just ring in?'

‘Yes. But he sounded really
weird
,
Liam. Kind of … strung out, if a vampire can
be
strung out without having had second helpings of my arteries. He wants to meet me tonight, at “our place”.'

‘So he's heading north, then? Unless “your place” is Hyde Park.'

‘I'm not a hundred per cent sure where “our place” is, actually.'

Liam made an incredulous noise. ‘Seriously? Jessica, unless you have all the romance of an A to Z, surely you must know where it is? Like you know what your song is and all the significant dates in your relationship from first drink to, well … I've got a spreadsheet for me and Sarah.' He added, smugly.

‘And that's romantic?'

‘It is if you're me.'

‘You have no idea how glad I am that I'm not.' My fingers prickled with the desire to know Sil's skin again, the touch-memory of his hair, the sensation of his demon firing up with the desire that crackled when we were together, and the smooth understanding that ran like a current between us. I gave myself a mental kicking. He'd gone. Left. And now he was in trouble …
But he'd called me. There's not much trouble that a vampire can get into that a human can get him out of, so there's something else, a reason he wants me.

‘You okay, Jess?' Liam's voice held all the concern that Zan's hadn't. ‘Have a coffee. Doesn't sound like you're going to be sleeping much anyway, so another caffeine-overload isn't going to hurt.'

‘He left me. And now he's in trouble … presumably thinks I can help, because that was not a phone call to remind me to put the rubbish out.' I chewed a nail. ‘But why
?
I mean, two weeks without a word, no e-mails, nothing, and then suddenly he goes mental and I'm supposed to jump when he says so? Why the hell should I?'

Something squeaked at Liam's end of the phone. ‘Well, for one thing, you might be the only person he can turn to; you might have some specialist knowledge that could help him—'

‘Only if he's in the kind of trouble that requires sourcing a phenomenal number of paper clips.'

‘Which he might be, we don't know. And, also, because you are crazy mad in love with the guy, and him just buggering off isn't going to change that any time soon.'

I rested my forehead in my hands. ‘I just want to see him, Liam.' My voice sounded broken, even to me. ‘I just want to know …'

‘And you should.' The squeaking carried on – it sounded as though he was squeezing a hamster. ‘I know it looks bad but … well, no, there isn't really a “but”. Oh no, I've just thought of one … you are a kick-ass woman, and you are
not
going to sit around pining for some bloke without knowing what happened. You are going to get in there, give him a hefty kick in the bollocks and ask for an explanation, because it's what you're owed, all right? And if he still wants your help, once he can talk again,
then
you can decide what to do. Sound reasonable?'

‘I don't know about
reasonable
. But it sounds like a plan.' I managed a weak grin down the phone. He knew, and I knew, that my trying to find Sil had never been in question, whatever the reason, however dubious my motivation. How could I not? ‘By the way, what are you doing?'

‘Pumping. Look, he's a vampire – we can't second-guess his motives. Hell, we can't even first-guess them. You're right, you just need to know what's going on and we can take it from there.' There was a pause and Liam panted down the phone a couple of times. ‘Sorry. Sarah's mother is coming to stay and I'm blowing up the spare bed.'

‘Which I am very relieved to hear, because you are making some very weird noises.'

‘Story of my life.
So, what are you going to do?'

I hadn't been entirely sure until now what I intended to do. Sit and wait for Sil's inevitable capture, telling myself that it was what he deserved? Ring the papers and tell them he was heading for York? Or head out for the only place that I could think of that might qualify as ‘ours, after Malfaire'. After the demon had tried to kill us, the place we'd hidden, the place where …

I shook my head and walked on. It was late, somewhere around midnight, the air was cool and smelled of stale beer and the river. The only people on the streets were those out enjoying themselves, or those for whom enjoyment wasn't much of an option. A ghoul, spinning along in a dark circle of air, ignored me, which was fine: I didn't want to have to think about work tonight.

It was even cooler by the river, and there was a vampire about: I could feel it, somewhere. But that was nothing unusual, most of our local vampires were so image-conscious that they only came out after dark, so they got the maximum boost to their ‘mysterious and gorgeous' auras – even
I
looked mysterious after dark, although my gorgeousness depended on very low lighting levels and a high intake of alcohol. I walked down to where the river sloshed up a high cobbled slope designed for launching boats and parking ice-cream vans, and then further down, almost to where the murky waters met the concrete. The river was low for the time of year and I could clearly see the storm drain where Sil and I had …well … we'd … My body gave a little disloyal shiver of pleasure as I remembered.
I'd been so, so cold, and there he was, heated by the effects of my narcotic blood, offering to warm me, to touch me, to give me what I'd burnt myself up with wanting. And I'd fallen. Lowered all the barriers and let myself drop, hoping he'd catch me. And he had. Or, at least, he'd
said
he had
 …

This had to be the place. But no time had been mentioned, had it? Still. No harm looking. No harm retracing my steps to the place where I'd found that a vampire could feel loss and guilt. Such pain that they chose to keep their emotions locked away, out of reach even of themselves, rather than suffer centuries of feelings, centuries of blame.

I bent down and looked into the drain. There was a tidemark up the walls where the spring floodmelt had briefly caused the river to rise, and a huddled bundle almost out of sight further up.

Vampire.

‘Hello?' I stayed at the mouth of the tunnel.

‘This must be a truly amazing disguise.'

‘
Sil
?' I took two steps inside before I remembered. He'd left me. Gone, without a word. I stopped, fingers just brushing the grip of the gun.

‘You came.' His voice sounded hoarse, broken over words that should never have been said. ‘That's good. I wasn't sure …'

I strained my eyes through the darkness at the slumped shape. ‘You look …'

‘I'm wearing jeans, Jess.
Jeans.
Can you imagine how distressing that is? They aren't even
designer
.'

‘Sil, what happened to you?'

And then the tiniest noise, just a loud swallow followed by a muted indrawn breath. ‘Jess.' And his voice was strained wide around tears. ‘
Jess.
'

I forgot the hunch, forgot the gun. Forgot everything other than that my lover was hurting, and moved forward along the sandy floor of the tunnel. A pair of arms like steel grasped me and pulled; a ribcage heaved against my cheek and retching sobs were muffled into my hair. ‘
Jess.
'

And I forgot that he'd left me. I forgot all those people he'd bitten. Forgot Zan's words about there only being one end to this – I forgot everything but the need to hold him close and feel the cool smoothness of his skin, the rough pebbles of stubble against my forehead as he put his lips to my face. I moved my head and brought my mouth to his, feeling an affirmation of our love in the depth of his kiss. And it was only after we'd breathed in one another and held that breath like two people in a smoke-filled room trying to hold on to the last gasp of oxygen that I moved away until I could look at him properly.

Even allowing for the nasty neon illumination from the riverside lights he looked terrible. ‘What the hell did you do to your hair? It's not some trendy London cut, is it?' I touched the shorn, lopsided locks that littered the sides of his head and down his neck. ‘Believe me, fringes are
not
going to make a comeback, whatever you were told.'

He kept a hold on my hand, a slightly desperate grip, as though he was afraid I might run. ‘It's disguise. And it has worked, so far. I managed to hide in the back of a lorry heading up to Aberdeen; jumped out when he stopped at a service station. Then I stole a phone and called you and got in a horsebox heading for York Races. I walked here from the racecourse when it got dark.' He paused. ‘It's a long way, isn't it?'

‘It is if you're dressed like Val Doonican after a hot wash.' My fingers traced the line of his skin where the shrunken tank top didn't meet his waistband. The touch of him, knowing from the writhing of his demon that he was excited, despite himself … It was all I could do to stay sensible. ‘Sil …'

A short, ragged breath. ‘Look, Jess. Things are really bad for me.'

‘Oh, you don't say. Well, I would never have known that, what with me living at the bottom of a bucket and everything.' I pulled my hands away, now was the time to forget what he was to me and get some serious answers. I hadn't
quite
ruled out the kick in the bollocks either. ‘What's going on?'

Another deep breath; then he folded his head forward into his hands. Uneven hair tumbled, hiding his expression. ‘I really have no idea. Seriously. None. I remember us, being here, being … in bed. The next thing I remember is being … somewhere …' A headshake. ‘Coming out starving, all I could think was … blood. And then …' He stilled, even his demon was quiet. ‘Those poor people. I was crazed, starved, so hungry and they were … warm.'

There was a tiny sinking inside me. I'd hoped,
somehow
against all the odds, that the film of his attack had been, what? A mistake? Faked? To hear him admit what he'd done made my heart flop in my chest. ‘So you fed from them. Couldn't you have got some Synth from somewhere?'

His head fell lower. ‘I had no money. No cards, no phone, nothing, and I was
starving
. I think my demon just took over to save both of us, feed first and face the consequences later. I am mortally sorry for what I did and I would never have had it this way.' He looked at me and his eyes flashed grey to white in the strobing lamplight. ‘
Never
,' he repeated.

I took a deep breath. Professional. I was a professional. And there were two ways that this could go: I could shoot him now, call Enforcement, have the whole thing over by morning. Shrug off the memories, start again – try to fall in love with a human this time round. Or, and my fingers fell away from the gun with the inevitability of it, I could try to sort this out.

‘The car was towed from the Embankment,' I said. ‘Any idea why it was there?'

A silent headshake.

‘Or why you'd gone to London? You didn't tell Zan or me, you just … went.'

He slowly dragged his head up through his hands. ‘Gods, Jess. All I remember is … a girl, I think. And … books? Just stupid little fragments, like pictures, images that mean nothing. If I was human I would have said they were dreams but …' But vampires don't sleep. His voice tailed off and he stared at the wall of the man-made cave, eyes flickering. ‘The last time I had an experience like that was'—he looked at me from eyes narrow with confusion—‘when I fed from you.'

My blood. The only drug that had any effect on a vampire. ‘What girl?' I said, focusing on probably the least mysterious element of the whole thing. ‘Why were you with her? Did you leave me for her, Sil, was that it?'

‘I don't
know
!' The shout filled the drain with sound, echoes of the glamour, the only magic a vampire had. The magic to make humans powerless, to entice, to do the vampire's bidding. The magic that had never worked on me. ‘I don't know. Do you understand how that feels for me? With the exception of the time I drank from you, my actions have been under my control from the moment my demon hatched inside me, and now there is a blank space in my head, actions I cannot recall, intentions that will not be brought to mind.' A hand snaked out, touched mine. ‘And all I can think of is you.' Fingers linked, and our joined hands were lifted to his lips. ‘I need your help. I need to know that whatever I have done, you will help me.'

Choose a side, Jess. Either help your lover, or turn him in. For or against. Human or Other
.
Now is the time to decide.

I felt the pressure of his fingers; saw the desperation in his eyes. Those eyes and the touch of him. Things I had longed for since the day I met him. ‘Okay,' I said, in a voice that sounded stronger than I felt. ‘This is what we're going to do. Find out what the hell happened to you in London, why you felt you had to go there and what you were doing.'

‘Yes.' A half-laugh. ‘Yes.'

‘Although I warn you, if it turns out you left me for some floozy with a short skirt and her boobs on display, I am going to turn you in to Enforcement there and then.'

‘I …' Sil increased the grasp on my hand. ‘I feel … it is you, Jess.
You.
Underneath, somehow, that it was all … for you?'

‘Hoy, bitey-boy, don't you go loading all your guilt onto me. I'm fairly sure I never even mentioned so much as a dirty weekend in Battersea, so I am not taking the blame for any nasty little secrets you've gone and got yourself, all right?' But I increased the grip on his hand regardless. ‘It can be sorted, Sil.' I reached up and moved his hair so that I could see his face properly. ‘It can.'

He raised our joined hands to his lips once more and then touched my face. ‘Please, Jess.' And now his voice was a clotted whisper. ‘Please.'

‘Right.'
Organise, it will stop you thinking
 …
‘We need to get you out of here and somewhere you won't be found.' My mind was buzzing. He couldn't go home: Zan would turn him in in a heartbeat. Liam had his mother-in-law coming to stay, and the office was far too public a place. Rachel had a spare room but I didn't feel that turning up late at night with a smelly vampire in tow would be a great move
.
‘Okay. You'll need to wait here while I get some transport.'

He nodded slowly. ‘And some Synth? It has been some while since I … fed last.' He drooped his head in shame. ‘Oh gods,' he whispered as though the horror was coming home to him again. ‘I fed …'

‘Yes, all right, shut up about that now. I'll be back in half an hour, sit tight.' And reluctantly I unwound our conjoined fingers, gave him a brief flash of a smile I didn't feel, and headed out into the night streets.