Chapter Ten

I tried Meg’s mobile over and over as I raced along the twisting country roads. It went straight to voicemail every time. The dense air split and burst into heavy, warm rain just as I reached the main road. I drove recklessly fast, skidding around the bends, overtaking other cars in a flash of spray. My chest was tight. My stomach had filled with concrete.

The last time I’d raced to Glasgow, along this very road, desperate to get to the derelict distillery before sunset was a clear memory. That time I’d been running from danger. This time it felt like I was running toward it. The loaded shotgun on the back seat didn’t make me feel any more prepared.

I cursed Terje for keeping so much from me, for leaving me to face this alone. I cursed Novák for helping with one hand and taking away with the other. I cursed Hati Nenge for making me realize that, in their world, none of this mattered. They did what they did to protect themselves, to protect each other from a world that didn’t accept them and probably never would.

Traffic slowed me then, three hours later, I crawled into the outskirts of the city. The rain washed over the windscreen and hammered on the roof. It was dark, despite it still being over an hour until sunset. Soon I was pulling up outside an exhaust-stained building with smashed windows and peeling fly posters pasted to the padlocked doors.

I retrieved the shotgun and crept around the back, up the stairs to the entrance to my old flat. The keypad was stiff but still opened to its code. I cracked the door and stood still, listening. All was silent. I nudged the door open with my gun. It creaked as it swung inward. I stood still. Nothing moved or made a sound.

When I crept in, the air smelled musty and damp. The shapes of the familiar, well-worn furniture gradually became visible in the gloom. Everything was as I’d left it that fateful winter night almost three years ago.

I made for the hall, my gun ready, straining my ears for any sound. I whispered Meg’s name, but the flat appeared deserted, the rumpled bed linen and moldering shower curtain all undisturbed. I returned to the living area and stepped to the windows overlooking the distillery floor. The towering stills were just visible in the light bleeding in from the high windows. The shadows were silent and still between them.

It was then I noticed that the door to the storage basement stood open. I frowned, trying to remember if it had been open the last time I’d been there. I thought it had been locked for years…but I couldn’t remember for sure. The prevailing memories I had from my last time here were not about the building.

I unbolted the door that led out onto a rickety iron stairway that spiraled down to the warehouse floor. The rusted iron creaked and cracked, and I winced with each noise, echoing loudly in the silence. I reached the bottom and held my breath, but there was no other sound. The air was musty, thick with the fug of rotten malt. I switched on my phone torch, scanned the floor and froze. The thick dust around the basement door had been disturbed. The padlock lay broken among the scuffed marks. I crept over and put my ear to the opening. All was quiet, but the silence had a different quality, like the air was holding its breath.

I pushed the door open. A low light lit the concrete stairwell. I put my phone away, my heart thumping against my ribs. I opened my mouth to call out but stopped myself, something in the air setting my skin crawling. I moved slowly so as not to make any sound, taking the stairs one at a time until I’d reached the bottom. The light was on in the storeroom. I crept to the window in the door and peered in.

The space was low-ceilinged but wide, with storage cells on either side. The cell at the far end was shut and bolted. I cracked the door and, finally, I heard something—a low keening, like someone in pain.

I padded forward, pressing my ear to the door of the bolted chamber. Another low, pained moan reached me through the wood.

“Meg?”

There was a moment of silence then her voice, barely recognizable, reached me through the wood. “Alec?”

I scrambled with the bolt, heaving at it with all my might, swearing when it wouldn’t budge. It was heavy, stronger than anything that I’d ever seen when the distillery had been in use.

“Alec, please,” came Meg’s voice behind the door. “Get out of here. It isn’t safe.”

“Who did this to you, Meg?” I said, still tugging at the bolt.

“Alec, get out of here! Now!”

“You called me.”

“She made me,” she said, her voice high and cracking.

“She?” Finally, the bolt thunked back and I pulled open the door. Meg stood in the cramped space, her clothes rumpled and stained, her body rigid, her sloe-black eyes wide and bright with fear. Her dark skin was sallow. We stared at each other for a long, confused moment before I stepped forward.

“Don’t,” she warned, moving back. “Alec, please, don’t come any closer.”

“What happened?”

“Alec, please,” she begged, wrapping her arms around herself, screwing her eyes shut and backing into the wall like she could crush herself through it. “I can…smell it.”

“Smell what?” I murmured, though when she forced her black eyes open again, shining with desperate hunger, I knew.

“Your blood…” she whispered. “I can smell it. I can hear it.”

I stepped closer. “Jesus… Meg…”

“Alec, please,” she begged. “I don’t want to hurt you…”

I stopped where I was. “How did this happen?” I said, my voice raw.

She slid down the wall, wrapped her arms around her knees and started to shake. My heart jerked around in my chest. I took a deep breath and reached for her.

“Come. Come with me. I’ll get you out of here,” I told her.

“I can’t,” she whimpered. “I can’t go…out there, where people are.”

“You can,” I said, resting my hand on her trembling shoulder. She jerked her head up and grabbed my arm in a grip like iron. She drew her lips back from her teeth. Her eyes were blacker than space and her over-long canines glinted white against her deep-red mouth. I tried to pull away, but she was too strong. She pulled my arm toward her mouth but then, shaking, clenched her mouth shut and released me.

“Go,” she sobbed. “Go, quick, Alec. I don’t know how long I can—”

“Who did this to you?” I demanded.

“I’m so sorry…”

“What for?” I said, kneeling to meet her eyes but she wouldn’t look at me.

“She said she just wanted to talk…that she wanted my help.”

“She?”

“She said she’d turn herself in,” Meg whispered, “but she wanted legal representation…fair representation. I agreed. I knew she would struggle to find it from anyone else. I thought I could help. She promised…”

“Meg, who are you talking about?”

She looked at me, her eyes blacker than the deepest winter night in the farthest reaches of the mountains. It was like she was seeing right into my soul. Then stared past me like she was seeing all her nightmares made flesh.

I was already turning when the blow fell.

 

* * * *

 

When I came to, my head was pounding like a hammer was beating the inside of my skull. When I could focus on anything other than the pain, I felt the pressure of bonds around my wrists and ankles. Then I heard Meg whimpering nearby.

I blinked my eyes open, swearing as the illumination from the strip lights stabbed through my brain. My phone and gun were nowhere in sight. I was bound to a chair with industrial twine. Meg was similarly restrained next to me, though with significantly more rope. Her fists were clenched so tightly that her nails had dug into her palms. Drops of dark blood, so dark it that it couldn’t be human, spattered the arms of her chair and the concrete floor.

I tried to say her name, but my throat was raw and sore, and it came out as a croak. She jerked her head up, her eyes wide. She started to speak, but then a tall, pale figure stepped out of the shadows. Her eyes were the yellow of flame and shone like citrine. Her black hair had grown out and she’d tied it back, leaving the sharp angles of her face exposed. She smiled, revealing very white, very sharp teeth, the expression putting me in mind of a snake about to strike.

“Lord Aviemore, we meet again.” Her voice rolled like piano music, low and lustrous but full of untapped power.

“Evgeniya…”

“Not quite the correct pronunciation,” she said, stepping closer, “but close.”

“What have you done to Meg?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Meg was shaking harder, staring at the floor, breathing heavily through her mouth.

“You’ve turned her into one of you?” I said, my voice thin in my own ears.

“Nearly. She’s got a way to go, but she’s almost there.”

“Why?”

“I have many reasons,” she said, fetching a bowl and a knife from a table in the corner. “You don’t need to know them all.”

“She’s in pain,” I insisted. “She needs medical attention.”

Evgeniya chuckled softly. “That’s not what she needs.”

Too quick for me to see, she lifted the knife and sliced into my forearm. I swore and tried to pull back, but the bonds were too tight. She held the bowl out to catch the trickling blood. Meg went rigid, her nostrils flaring. I called her name, but she seemed to be beyond hearing.

“Why are you doing this?” I said through clenched teeth as Evgeniya lifted the bowl to Meg’s mouth. Meg leaned back, shaking even more violently, crushing her eyes shut.

“Drink, child,” Evgeniya said softly. “It will help.”

Meg tried to turn her face away, but Evgeniya tilted the bowl against her lips. She screwed her face up but then opened her mouth and drank, swallowing like someone dying of thirst finally given water. She relaxed, her brow smoothed and her face colored.

“There, dear,” Evgeniya said, lowering the bowl and brushing the tendrils of sweaty hair back from Meg’s face. “Better?”

Meg breathed deeply but didn’t open her eyes.

“You won’t get away with this,” I snarled, “whatever this is. They’ll find me. Terje will find me.”

“That’s what I’m counting on, little lord.” I went cold. She frowned at my expression. “You needn’t be frightened. I’m trying to help you…all of you.”

“Mind explaining that one?”

She fetched a cloth and pressed it to the cut in my arm. She smiled at me, reminding me unpleasantly of a cobra assessing its prey. “We’re all outcasts now, MacCarthy,” she said softly. “The only option left is joining together.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m making us a family. A home. I’m giving us each other, so we can be safe.”

“You’re…what?”

She sighed, tossing the cloth into the bowl. “Everything’s so upside down now—registered communes, independent habitation, licensed reproduction?” She shook our head. “These are human terms, human restrictions. Our kind cannot live this way. We set our own rules, manage our own numbers and protection, always have. Novák has forgotten what that really means.”

“So…what? You’re starting a commune…with us?”

“I’m protecting my family, like I’ve always done.” Her eyes glinted as her smile widened. “I’m giving you the chance to live forever…with Terje.”

I stared. “You knew? That Terje survived?”

“Not right away,” she said, examining her cut-glass fingernails. “It came to my attention when I came back to this country. He may be taking some awful chemical that stops me being able to find him…but our bond goes deeper than that. I sensed he was alive, even though I couldn’t find him.”

“So this,” I said, nodding to Meg and the basement, “is to trap him?”

“To bring him back. Back to a family he can belong to.”

“You’re mad.”

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t do the same?” she said, her face softening. “Wounded, melancholy Terje. He was always different. It was what made him so interesting…and why I could never bring myself to let him go, even though his differences cost me everything. But I should thank him, really. Being cast out has reminded me that the only world you can rely on is the one you build yourself.”

“The residents at Forest Hill might beg to differ.”

Her eyes glinted. “I can do no more for them. Our commune will be different—strong, self-reliant, no human rules, no restrictions. You don’t want to be part of this broken world any more than I do. I’ll give you to each other. And her,” Evgeniya nodded at Meg. “Her brother too. And you’ll all have me.”

“This is all insane.”

She laughed, a sound that seemed to come from the floor and out of the walls at once. “It’s so sad that you can’t see. But you will, my child. You will.”

“Is it just because you can’t stand being alone?”

“You say that like it’s something to be ashamed of. No one survives alone.”

“You won’t get away with this.”

“It’s not a question of ‘getting away’ with anything. I will turn all the humans from Blood Winter. All the people that want things to be different. Then, together, we will show all humans, everywhere, that we will live by our own rules.”

“That won’t work. They’re already hunting for you.”

She laughed again. “Your human police force?” She snorted. “They won’t even get close. And once I have you all ready, we’ll be too strong for anyone. And when the Brassingtons put the rest of my plan into motion—”

I started. “The Brassingtons?”

“Oh, dear,” she said, leaning her hands on the arms of her chair and pushing her face close to mine. “Do you think the humans arranged this all on their own?”

“You’re the ‘associate in Scotland’?”

She sneered. “Is that how they referred to me? Well, I’m not sure what I expected. Petulant, despicable cockroaches, the pair of them. But they have a purpose, like even the lowliest creatures on this earth. And I want you to remember, my lord, after all this is over, that I tried to do this for you peacefully. They made you that offer on my behalf. It’s you who has made this difficult.”

“But this isn’t about me…” I stammered. “Those people? You’re helping them stir up hatred against your own kind? Why?”

“Because my kind need to push back.” Her voice had lowered. Her smile was gone. “They cannot go on as Novák and other elders have dictated, submitting to ridiculous restrictions just so that humans feel safe.” She made a disparaging noise. “What about us feeling safe?” She shook her head. “The correct order needs to be reestablished. And for that, we need to be rallied to defend ourselves. That will happen once we prompt the humans show us their true colors. Then, when the time comes”—she ran a long finger down my cheek and jaw—“we will show them how strong we can be.”

“And the Brassingtons are in on that part of the plan?”

“They are like most humans. They can’t see past their own gain. But they will be the first to go.” She smiled. “I’ll keep them for you, if you like.”

“I won’t be part of this…and neither will Terje.”

She touched her fingers to my ear, my hair, my neck, like she was memorizing every cell in my body. “I can offer you dozens of lifetimes with him—seeing everything as he does, feeling like he does for decades, centuries even. Imagine that, Alec,” her breath was warm, her eyes burning. “Together, for all that time. Finally free.”

“I won’t be part of it,” I said after a breathless hesitation.

“You will,” she said, and sank her teeth into my neck.