She smiles at him gratefully and gives him a smooch on the lips.
‘Awww,’ simpers Lucy and I roll my eyes.
Tim surveys our group with a grave face. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but what I’m hearing is that Alexander Dryden is a fucking menace. And that everyone wants him dead.’
We all nod.
‘So killing him effectively rescues Lucy’s thrall friends, plus removes the target from Floss and Damian’s backs.’
We all nod again.
‘There are seven of us now,’ confirms Hester. ‘With a range of powers. Surely, that’s enough to take him down? I mean, the odds are in our favour. We’d have to be pretty unlucky if he killed even one of us.’
My blood runs cold as I contemplate Elliott’s handsome profile and his golden locks.Alexander will not be touchinga hair on this man’s beloved head. He’ll have to get through me first.
‘You’re all forgetting one thing,’ says Floss.
‘What’s that, babe?’ replies Damian fondly.
‘We can’t get into the castle.’
‘Floss has a point,’ I say. ‘It’s not like he’s going to invite us in.’
‘No,’ pipes up Lucy. ‘But I can. I was “born” there, so it’s my house. Technically, it’s Elliott’s too.’ She smiles at him. ‘Since I’m his sire.’
I take two cubes of meat and masticate them viciously, imagining they’re her flesh. So much for not hating her.
Lucy claps excitedly. ‘So that’s settled. We’re going to kill Alexander and rescue my friends!’
‘Who’s going to kill him exactly?’ asks Elliott. ‘Any volunteers?’
No one raises their hand.
‘We’ll all take wooden stakes,’ I say after swallowing my mouthful of raw meat. ‘Whoever gets to him first will be the lucky one.’
***
We all pile into Damian’s dad’s car, ready to head to the castle via the road with our motley pile of weapons,including an old rake, a broom broken in two, the handle of a gardening fork, and a pair of wooden knitting needles. It’s not ideal, but it’s the best we can do.
Tim offered to drive but said he was worried that he might have a bloodlust surge if he smelled a deer and go careening off the road. So he’s out. I offered too, but Elliott quickly shot that down in flames. He obviously hasn’t recovered from me driving his van in 1983.
Damian is the logical choice. But by the way he guns the engine and takes off down the driveway in a spray of gravel, I’m rethinking the decision to put a newbie vampire behind the wheel.
Sitting on Elliott’s lap in the back seat, I dig my nails into his shoulder as we whip around the corner and onto the main road. ‘Is he deliberately trying to make us crash?’ I whisper in his ear as Damian’s foot hits the accelerator. I’m not worried aboutmyphysical safety particularly, but more about shunting another car off the quiet country road. Stone walls and fence posts whip past the window. ‘Perhaps he’s trying to prove he’s not a namby-pamby driver now that he’s invincible.’
‘He probably just wants to get it over with,’ whispers back Elliott. ‘Either that, or he’s giving up dentistry and wants to be a Formula 1 driver.’
I snort.
Floss is in front with Hester perched on her lap. She’s in cat form since there wasn’t room back here. I eavesdrop on their conversation.
Floss:Ow, stop digging your claws in!
Hester:It’s not my fault your boyfriend’s driving like a bat out of hell. Tell him to slow down.
Floss:I don’t want to distract him. He’s concentrating.
Hester:If I end up as roadkill, it’s your fault!
