No other talking ensues, so I’m not sure how they’re communicating. Sign language? This is getting weirder by the minute. And why are there no lights on? I suppose that is comforting in some respects as murdering someone in the dark might be quite difficult.
Chapter 8
Sadie | Edinburgh, 1983
My intention had been to try and force Elliott Blythe to tell me where the band was staying so I could hang outside the hotel and meet Simon when they surfaced. I found the guy’s name badge on the dashboard with his smug grinning photo on it, as if to say ‘Look at me. I know Duran Duran’. Grrrr, it’s so fucking annoying I can’t read his mind. It would make things a lot easier. But he’s resistant to any mind probing. And I was concentrating hard! So much so that I was driving all over the road. However, as it proved difficult to compel him in any way but physically, I gave up on that idea. But then another one hit me like a slap of bat wings. Oooh yes, it was a much better idea, something that would suit me and my flatmates long-term.
This is how our situation currently stands: We can’t keep feeding on random drunks and homeless people in the dead of night and memory-wiping them. Some bystander orcurtain twitcher is going to notice sooner or later and report us. Then the police will be involved, and I don’t particularly want to memory-wipe an entire division.
No, we need someone who can get us blood on a regular basis. Hester worked at a blood donation centre for a year and managed to sneak some out before she was fired for reasons unknown. It could have been because her phlebotomy skills were shit (she’s precise when biting for blood, not so much drawing it with a syringe). No matter. I’ve been considering running an underground blood donation service for years. And now Elliott’s dropped into my lap. He’s the perfect person to manage it for us. He may need some coercing ... I meanconvincing. But I’m sure I can find a way to do that. I saw the way he was ogling me. I’m sure after a little vampiric seduction, I’ll have him eating out of the palm of my hand. Or eating something else ... Whoops, I’d better concentrate on driving rather than seducing Elliott. I nearly hit a postbox then!
***
When we arrive, Elliott turns feisty and tries to stab me with a tuning fork, which makes me want to laugh. I put a stop to that nonsense and compel him to walk into our flat, which he does with some resistance. This guy is intriguingme with his determination to fight my powers. Who does he think he is?
Floss is understandably confused at the whole business. ‘What the fuck, Sadie?’ she says, staring at Elliott, who’s sliding around on the rug.
Dammit, I’ll have to fill her in mentally. Floss can fly. However, her telepathic skills are limited. But I can project my thoughts to her and pick up on what she’s thinking. ‘Shh, listen.’
Me:I know this looks odd, but there’s a method to my madness.
Floss:You kidnapped a guy! I knew I should have gone with you to that concert. I had a feeling you were going to try and meet Simon Le Bon. But this isn’t him? I mean, he’s cute and all, but—
Me:No, he’s not, more’s the pity. He’s Duran Duran’s roadie ... It’s a long story. I’ll fill you in later. Anyway, now that he’s here, I thought he could be of use to us.
Floss:Oh? We’d better get Hester in on this. She’s in the lounge, reading.
Me:OK, I’ll move him in there.
Floss:He looks really annoyed ... and tired. Are you sure you should have—
Me:I’m handling it!
But she is right. Elliott’s shouldersare slumping with exhaustion. I forget that these fragile humans need seven hours of shut-eye a night.
Me:Change of plan. I’ll put him in my bed so he can sleep. I’ll meet you in the lounge shortly.
Floss raises her eyebrows briefly but doesn’t argue. She glides off to the lounge in the darkness. Elliott doesn’t see her feet aren’t touching the floor because his eyes aren’t attuned to the darkness. But I march him off to my bedroom quickly anyway. He’s going to find out very soon who he’s dealing with and why he shouldn’t have played that joke on me.
Once we’re in my bedroom, I whisk him over to the bed, flop him down on his back, spreadeagle him, and mentally hold his arms and legs in place. He immediately struggles and tries to wrench his wrists away from the invisible bonds. But that’s not going to happen. I’ve been perfecting my technique since 1758, and no man has ever escaped.
He moves his mouth, but nothing comes out but a thin whimper. Oh yeah, I forgot I compelled him to remain quiet in the van. I let him speak, curious to hear what he has to say.
‘I won’t go to the police, I promise. Please let me go.’
His tone is low and urgent, his eyes wide with fear. And his heart is pumping wildly. The smell of his blood permeates the room; and suddenly, I’m on high alert, feelingmy fangs extend. I lick my lips and circle the bed. The room is dark enough that he can’t see me, but he can hear the tap of my heels, and his head swings in the direction of my footsteps.
‘Nothing’s going to happen to you,’ I say in a velvety voice. ‘Just go to sleep. There’s a good boy.’
He whimpers again. So I send him some calming energy; and in a few minutes, his muscles slacken, and his eyes close.There we go. No harm done.I swallow, pushing aside the need to feed, which is clouding my senses. I could take a drink. But for some reason, I’m holding back, partly out of loyalty to Tim upstairs. I drink from him on occasion when he’s asleep when I can’t be bothered going out hunting with Floss and Hester. And drinking from Elliott feels like I’d be cheating on Tim, though he has no idea I do it—I suction discreetly from his glutes, where he can’t see the marks. But I can’t keep doing that. It’s another reason why I need to break it off (as if him thinking of proposing wasn’t enough!).
While Elliott sleeps, I sit on the bed next to him and gently brush back his teased golden hair, admiring his handsome face. He’s not Simon, but he is still a good-looking guy. I trail my hand down his broad chest, looking at the white Duran Duran concert T-shirt he’s wearing. It’s different from the one he gave me. It’s also white, but it hasa map on it. This one has a tiger’s eye on the front surrounded by red and blue spikes and various symbols, including a crescent moon. I trace the outline of the moon, and Elliott’s nipples rise in little peaks under the material.Hmm, interesting.My hand hovers, but I don’t touch them. My hand moves lower, over his stomach, feeling the hard spring of his ab muscles. I gently pull his T-shirt out of his jeans, lift it up to his ribs, and gaze at his six-pack.Mmm, he’s got a great body too.I run my fingers lightly over his skin, and gooseflesh appears.Hah, he likes that.A quick glance at his crotch and I see his jeans have started bulging too. I shift on the bedcover. Elliott’s sleep erection is making me wet between the legs. I contemplate unbuttoning his Levi’s 501s ... just for a little peek ...
Hester’s voice appears in my mind before I can block her. I do most of the time, but sometimes she slips in when I’m distracted. Like now.
Sadie, what are you doing? Floss said you’ve kidnapped someone! We need to talk about this. Lounge now!
I sigh and tuck Elliott’s T-shirt back in neatly and give his rising and falling stomach a little pat.
