The Children Of The Mist (18 page)

Shelley looked at her husband and a ghost of a smile flickered across her lips. ‘I feel like I've fallen into some weird parallel universe. I keep having the odd sensation that I'm dreaming, and will wake up any second.' She stood up and looked down at Morven. ‘But I'm not going to, am I?'

Zest shook his head. ‘No, Mrs Smith, you're not.'

Clifford came and put an arm around his wife's shoulders. He looked down at his daughter. ‘I can't help but feel this is my fault. We should never have kept her. We should have found her real family.'

‘It wouldn't have made any difference,' said Zest. ‘She would still be Vampyre. With or without you.' Aware that Clifford wasn't convinced, he pressed on. ‘Mr Smith, whoever left Morven in your garden did so for a reason. I find it hard to believe that it was by accident. I don't think you'd have found Morven's family, even if you'd tried. And ultimately she may have ended up seriously disadvantaged. After all…you're both scared witless, confused and worried to death…but you're still here for her. Aren't you?'

Shelley blew her nose loudly, stood up straight and looked at Zest. ‘Of course. You are absolutely right. We've kept her safe and well for 16 years. We're not about to quit now when she needs us the most.' She turned toward her husband. ‘Clifford, we must go home and get ready for work. Or we'll be late.'

Clifford blinked and nodded. ‘Better get a move on.'

Zest was out of step. ‘You can't go to work.'

Shelley smiled a watery smile. ‘Zest, I have an idea of how to get Morven to the UK without making a blip on anyone's radar. But to do so, I need to access my computer. I know the authorities will swoop once someone clocks on to my whereabouts, but I won't need long. And in the end, I think that the last thing ‘they' will expect is for the pair of us to rock into work like nothing's happened. I mean, what can they say in a public place?'

Clifford nodded. ‘Shelley's right. She can get the stuff and we'll bring it to you. Probably not here. Somewhere close to the city.'

Zest had a brainwave. ‘Tell you what, how about the skate park? At nine o'clock tonight.'

Shelley looked unsure. ‘Do you think it'll be safe?

Zest shrugged. ‘Safe as anywhere, I guess.'

Shelley sighed. ‘I guess we don't have a lot of choice.' She turned to Morven. ‘She looks so uncomfortable. Can we move her to the bed?'

They could. Zest pushed Dog to the bottom of his bed, and they carefully lifted Morven and settled her on the doona. She didn't stir. It was only as he looked at the peacefully sleeping pair that Zest felt himself fade. Fatigue hit him like an express train. Man, he was tired.

Zest waited until the Smiths disappeared out of sight toward the yard and then slipped carefully back inside. God, he was knackered. After a moment's consideration, he lifted the cushions off the squashy old chairs and piled them together on the floor. As he settled his head down, sleep swept seductively over him. Within seconds he sank into a dreamless stupor.

Morven woke up. Her eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright. Dog stirred and wagged his tail making a soft tattoo on the doona. Well, Zest's doona actually. Where was he? Almost instantaneously she honed in on his prone body on the floor. Asleep. But her parents were missing. She slid silently off the bed. The hands of her watch told her it was seven in the evening.

She wondered if she should wake Zest. Hesitantly she moved closer and crouched down beside him. She smiled to herself. It was really weird to see him so utterly still. He looked so peaceful, but she didn't know what he was dreaming. It was nice to be able to look at him without embarrassment. He really was gorgeous. His muscular chest rose and fell rhythmically. In repose his dimples had gone to sleep and his russet eyelashes curled softly onto his cheeks.

‘Boo!'

She shrieked and leapt backwards, banging her head on the corner of the table. Zest rested on his elbows and grinned at her. ‘See anything you like?'

Morven was furious with herself. How seriously uncool. ‘Yes,' she snapped, ‘if you're attracted to gits.'

Zest pulled a clown's face. ‘Ah, another hope crushed.'

Morven didn't know if he was serious or not, and wasn't game to find out. A change of subject seemed a good idea. ‘Where are Mum and Dad?'

The laughter trickled out of Zest's face. ‘What time is it?'

‘It's seven.'

‘Shit, I didn't mean to sleep so late. Your parents went out to work this morning — ‘

Morven felt a firework explode in her head. ‘Work? Are they crazy? What the hell are they playing at? They'll get arrested. Oh my God, they'll get shot.'

Zest shook his head. ‘Your mum had to access her computer so we can get you out the country. We're meeting them in the park at nine tonight.'

It took every ounce of self-control that Morven possessed not to race out the door and head for home. How could they have put themselves at such risk? What if something bad had happened to them? Still, Zest seemed pretty confident and her parents had proven to be made of sterner stuff than she'd ever imagined. Kind of weekend warriors.

Dog jumped down from the bed and stretched. Morven quickly cleaned her teeth, borrowed some deodorant and slipped on a pair of boots. Her mum thought of everything. Zest was ready, his metal weapon wrapped around his waist.

Morven eyed the strange weapon. ‘What is that?'

He looked at the belt. ‘It's called a urami. It was my father's.'

Morven was silent for a moment. She didn't want to pry, but Zest had never spoken of his family before.

Zest's fingers touched the blade. ‘They killed him.'

Morven knew he referred to the same ‘they' that pursued her. ‘Why?'

He looked at her then. ‘It has always been that way.'

Morven nodded. It made sense. She and Zest were two of a kind. Different. Dangerous. It was ironic really; it seemed that it was paranoia that created this strange silent war. If ‘they' just let her be, she'd be out at the skate park showing off. Which
reminded her — the skate park. Her mum and dad. Uneasiness settled on her shoulders like a soft blanket of snow. If they harmed her family, she'd kill them. Her eyes flickered to Zest. ‘If they touch Mum or Dad, I'll kill them.'

He smiled grimly. ‘Don't worry, I'll give you a helping hand.'

Dog barked.

Morven gave him a pat. ‘Looks like Dog's up for it, too.'

Zest reached out and touched the back of her hand. ‘Don't worry, it won't come to that.'

At the feel of his touch Morven's hand began to burn. As did various other parts of her anatomy. ‘I'm hungry,' she said, more to fill the awkward silence than anything. But once she'd said it she realised it was true. A delicious memory surged up out of her brain. Blood, hot, warm and ruby red. Her mouth watered. Yum.

Zest moved to the fridge and opened the door. An eddy of cool air wafted across the room. ‘Steak?'

Steak? Not quite what she had in mind, but not a bad idea. She nodded.

Zest slapped a couple of slabs of fillet onto a wooden board. ‘Raw and wriggling?'

Morven grinned. What the hell? ‘Please.'

Zest grabbed a funnelled machine, plugged it in and shoved a piece of meat into a large hole. Seconds later dozens of red worms poured out of the other side. Mincemeat. When it was all done, Zest divided the pile neatly onto three plates and popped a sprig of parsley in the middle of each serve.

He handed one plate and a fork to Morven. Then put another plate on the floor for Dog. ‘Bog in, don't wait,' he instructed.

‘Thanks,' she said. It smelled fabulous. And tasted pretty good, too. It disappeared speedily. Even the parsley, which Dog wouldn't touch.

Zest threw the dirty dishes into the sink. ‘Time to go. Here, grab this.'

Morven instinctively plucked the flying object out of the air.
Honestly, she just loved being Vampyre.
It was a gun. Cool and grey. ‘Whose is it?'

‘Yours now.'

She didn't argue but looked at it anxiously. How, exactly, did one shoot a pistol? But then an image shimmered before her eyes. It was a soldier. A woman. With deft, pale fingers the soldier broke down a gun, cleaned it and put it back together. As the mirage faded she lifted the gun, closed her eyes, and pulled it apart. ‘Ammo,' she said. A compact of plastic landed softly in her hand. In seconds the gun was back together, fully loaded. She opened her eyes. And knew that she could shoot it. Perfectly.

Zest lifted an eyebrow. ‘Not bad. For a beginner.'

Morven ignored him. She knew he was impressed. Hell, she impressed herself. ‘How are we going to get to the city? In the car again?'

Zest shook his head. ‘No, too dangerous. The car would be a dead giveaway. No, I've organised alternative transport.'

That tweaked Morven's curiosity. ‘What sort of transport. A motorbike? A taxi? Boards?'

Zest grinned. ‘You'll know soon enough.' He dragged on a pair of heavy black boots and pulled the laces tight. ‘What's it doing outside?'

It was a casual enough question, but Morven didn't miss the underlying tension. The muscles in his neck were taut, and he kept his face hidden. She went to the nearest window
and pulled the curtain aside. It was dark, with a heavy bank of cloud that promised rain. The light of the moon was just a silver haze where the cloud thinned. ‘Looks like rain.'

Zest looked up. ‘Morven. You know what will happen if the moon comes out, don't you?'

Morven nodded. ‘You'll go all cute and hairy again.' She couldn't help herself then. ‘What's it like?'

Zest stood, walked to her side and looked out the window. ‘It's kinda hard to put into words. But — well, it's freakin' fantastic! It's, like — mad-doggish!'

Dog sat down, lifted his head and let out a long howl. A second later Zest joined in. Morven laughed. ‘Come on, you two, we'd better go.'

Zest handed her a backpack. ‘You'd better hang onto this.'

Inside, Morven found the tartan rug, the brooch and an old photo of herself and Zest clowning around in a photo booth. In her chest her heart strings strained as it finally hit her that she was going away. Away from her family and her friends. Tears sprang from her eyes and she turned away.

When two strong arms enveloped her, she did not resist. ‘I'm gonna miss you,' she whispered.

Zest pulled her closer. He could taste her distress. Understandable in the circumstances. She'd had a roller-coaster ride. As he looked down, the line of her part glowed luminescent white through her black, silky hair. He wished he could find something to say to comfort her…but he couldn't think of one damn thing. Maybe it was because he felt like he'd been tied up in knots.
And
he was scared he'd let his emotions override good sense. Morven had to go. And he had to help her.

‘I'll miss you, too,' he said. ‘But don't worry, you'll be home before you know it.'

She stepped back, nodded and wiped her eyes. ‘You're right. The sooner I get going, the sooner I'll be back.'

Then Zest remembered what he had planned. He pocketed his knife and headed for the door. ‘Come on, I've got a surprise for you.'

She was in the doorway quicker than a silver bullet. ‘A surprise? What?'

He grinned then. ‘If I tell you, it won't be a surprise, will it?' Dog bounded down the steps into the gloomy landscape. Zest instinctively looked skyward. The moon glowed coyly from behind the clouds. Already he could feel her magic licking like a low tide at his blood. Tantalisingly close. But not close enough. Still, the night was young — all was possible.

Morven rolled her eyes theatrically. ‘Whatever.'

Her tone was nonchalant. But Zest knew her better. She stepped aside casually and let him out the door.

‘Zest — ‘

Something in her tone of voice made him stop and turn around. ‘What?'

‘I just…wondered…'

And then, he knew what she was going to ask, even before she said it. ‘What, Morven? What did you wonder?'

She looked down at the ground, shifted the bag from one shoulder to the other and looked at Dog. ‘I wondered…if you'd ever, you know…ever killed anyone — before.' She stopped and frowned and then rushed on, her words stumbling over each other. ‘But it's really none of my business, so just forget it.'

‘Of course it's your business, Morven. Yes, I killed. Three years ago in Tasmania.'

Morven didn't speak, but stood pale like a marble statue.

‘I was living rough in the forest down in Tassie. One night I was out hunting and they found me. I don't know how. Maybe another hunter. Maybe local gossip. Doesn't really matter. They came after me, like last night. I killed all three of them. And left them to the pack. Then I moved here.'

Morven closed her eyes slowly and opened them again. ‘Are you sorry?'

‘No.'

‘Me neither.'

And that seemed to seal the deal. No regrets. No remorse. No recriminations. For either of them. Zest called Dog, and headed to the road. As if by mutual consent they moved silently, like their feet were shod in silk. The night rustled and whispered around them. Zest felt a thrill of sheer, delicious happiness. It was not just his world anymore. Now, there was Morven. And Dog, of course. Once they reached the edge of the forest they broke into a run. Faster and faster they flitted through the trees. Past startled echidna and wide-eyed
owls. In the distance he heard the pack serenading, but the pull was less intense. He had a new pack now. At least for one night.

In a short time the tree line broke and they moved out into the open. Zest made a gesture with his hand and began to slow. Soon all three of them came to a halt. The ground was damp with rain. The railway line snaked away past them like shiny, black liquorice.