‘What?’
I’m thinking along the lines of vampire armies raping and pillaging entire cities. But that might be overly dramatic as I play a lot of zombie video games. I don’t want to scare her, so I don’t say that.
‘This serum breeds vampires. Horny, violent vampires, not peace-loving ones like you and your flatmates.’
‘Lucy seems OK ...’
I stare at her. ‘Lucy got only a small dose. You saw Tim.’ In fact, we can hear him right now via the headboard slamming against the far wall.
‘But Alexander needs your blood to create more of it,’ Sadie says, wincing as a booming cry of ecstasy filters through from next door. It sounds like a victorious rutting stag. ‘And ... and you escaped. So the danger is over. We can go home ...’
I shake my head. ‘We can’t leave those women in the castle. He’s abusing them. Lucy is counting on us to get them out.’
Where’s my brave Sadie gone? Why is she being so feeble? It’s not like her. I try another tack to rouse her fighting spirit.
‘Besides, now that Alexander knows my blood is necessary for his experiments, he’s going to try and get me back. Do you want a repeat of the other night?’
She shudders and moves closer to me. ‘No, that was horrible.’
‘It was.’Getting torn from your arms was my idea of hell.‘Just the sight of this stuff is giving me nightmares,’ I say aloud. ‘It’s evil.’
I reach over and collect the syringes carefully in my hand.
Sadie jerks. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Flushing it down the toilet.’
‘I don’t think we should act hastily,’ she says, looking at the syringes nestled in my hand.
I glance at her. ‘Surely, you’re not thinking of trying it?’
‘Of course not!’
There’s a thump against the wall and a loud masculine moan. I swallow. They’re at it again. If they don’t settle down soon, I might have to go for a walk.
Strangely enough, the noises emanating through the walls are not turning me on but doing the exact opposite.
‘My instincts are telling me to wait before we do anything rash,’ Sadie says, taking the syringes out of my hand. ‘We’ll sleep on it. You need to rest.’
‘Maybe lock our door too,’ I mutter, kicking off my trainers and flinging the edge of the bedcover throw over me.
Sadie locks the door and lies down next to me on her side, facing away from me. I’m highly aware of our bodies not touching. I close my eyes, but it’s really difficult to fall asleep with all the loud sex noises going on next door.
Then a high-pitched giggle and gasps start up from the other side of the room. Sadie’s shoulder tenses. Oh no, looks like Damian and Floss are at it too!
‘Jesus,’ mutters Sadie. ‘It’s like Mother Swift’s all over again.’
‘Tell me the story of how you ended up in the brothelagain,’ I say to distract her.
She rolls over to face me. ‘You’ve heard it before.’
‘Yes, but not for ages.’
Her lips thin. ‘There’s not too much to tell. I came from rural Kent. I was a farming girl and a beloved only child—’
‘Like me,’ I interrupt.
She coughs a little and looks guilty. ‘Yes. Anyway, when my parents died unexpectedly, a well-meaning uncle brought me to London to live with him in Clerkenwell. I was 16 years old. But after two years of heartily eating his food, he decided that being a harlot was the best thing for me under the circumstances. “It will slim you down and make a woman of you,” he said.’
