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Post by Melissa Kane on May 8, 2009 10:32:04 GMT
Chapter Sixteen
Dr Newman came to find Nina about ten minutes later and he invited her through but wasn't going to allow Mitchell and Annie to join them in a quiet, unused room until Nina protested that they were as close as family. For this, Annie and Mitchell were grateful. After a long pause, Dr Newman agreed. He vaguely knew George from his porterly duties and was aware that he and Mitchell were practically inseparable.
With all the tact required by his profession, he told them what injuries George had. As it was, he wasn't as badly hurt as they thought. Three cracked ribs on his right side and one sharply broken one on the left which had been pressing on his left lung but thankfully hadn't punctured it. They had X-Rayed his chest and found that at some point during the procedure, the bone had moved to an easier position on its own, relieving the pressure. His chest and right side were very badly bruised, as were his throat and back. His throat was swollen badly enough from the attack that he wasn't able to speak right now. The lower half of his back was shredded and it had taken them a while to get all the bits of stone from the pebble-dashing out before they could clean it. The back of his head bore a small lump and though this was going down quickly, they chose to keep him in as a precaution. Nina nodded, holding herself together in a way that made them both proud of her. Nina was taking comfort from the fact that though it hadn't seemed like it at the time, both of them had been extremely lucky. She had her left arm broken in two places, a dislocated shoulder, bruising and a few cuts and scrapes. George had come off worst.
Dr Newman informed them that he had taken the liberty of having one of the nurses report the incident to the police and he indicated to Nina that the police were here for her statement.
The idea of a statement gave Mitchell chills and he tried to see if the two officers out in the corridor were vampires he knew. They came into the room on Dr Newman's say so and he left. “Can I stay in with her?” Mitchell asked the two young policemen, putting a hand on Nina's uninjured shoulder. Nina didn't quite understand the significance, but she went along with it, stating that she could do with the moral support.
“I'm sorry sir, but you can't. We'll be as quick as we can.” With that, one of the officers ushered Mitchell out of the room but he was satisfied that the two men were nothing more than human beings so he left quietly. Nina would be safe for now and he knew she was bright enough not to mention vampires. She would like as not say it was a mugging gone bad.
The vampire and the poltergeist stood in the corridor, side by side, waiting for Nina. “Mitchell, we can't let her go home. What if they go looking for her.” Annie said softly. “She should come and stay at ours tonight. At least she'll be able to rest easier, knowing she's not alone.”
“Yeah. I was gonna suggest that myself. Great minds think alike, eh?” He commented, nudging her gently. “Not that I think they would go looking for her. It was pure chance that they found them this time, but it'll make her feel better, I think. She can sleep in George's room.”
“ Yeah. And someone should stay here with George. Just in case.” Annie added.
“He'll be safe in here tonight.” Mitchell mused. “Pratchett won't like that the rules have been broken.”
“How do we know he didn't order this.”
“You heard Nina. She said they stopped and left as soon as they figured out who George was. The vampires are scared of him.”
“You can't know that. If he ordered it, he could have told them to make it look like an accident.” Annie countered, bubbling with exasperation. Why the hell would Mitchell trust the other vampires after everything that had happened.
He shook his head. “Keep your voice down. I know Pratchett. He's a man of his word. Besides, if it wasn't an accident, they wouldn't have stopped and both of them would be dead instead of in here.” This was said a little more emotionally that he intended but it was too late to take it back.
Annie let out a harsh sigh. “You might be willing to play with George's life, but I'm not. I'll stay with him tonight. Just like he stayed all night to protect you when you got staked.” She said this coldly, knowing deep down that Mitchell probably knew best, but still steaming over his reaction to her announcing her and Michael getting together as well as his apparent denial of any problem here. “You should have been safe in here too, but he had to defend you.”
Presently, their argument was interrupted when Nina and the two officers emerged from the room. “We'll come back and try to get Mr Sands' statement in the morning.”
*****
Nina found George in a small side ward by asking one of the nurses she generally shared a rota with. She led them to his bed but told them he was sleeping right now because they'd administered a strong pain killing injection to help him rest. “So long as you're only a minute, you should be okay.”
Mitchell and Annie stood at the end of the bed as Nina sat down beside it on a chair she filched from near the door. His glasses and necklace rested in the drawer of the stand beside the bed and he was breathing deeply and evenly. Nina stroked the side of his face tenderly with one hand, moving her other to hold George's hand, carefully avoiding the tap into the vein that was there in case of emergency. Without the worry lines, he looked far younger than his 25 years. Tears welled but she stubbornly denied them, concentrating instead on talking to him. “Heeey you. God, you worried us all half to death.” She paused, realising the inanity of her words considering she was accompanied by a ghost and a vampire. “Well, halfway back for some of us.” She smiled fondly and kept caressing his cheek, forehead and temples. He was running a temperature, Nina noticed.
Mitchell could see the darkness and swelling around his neck as well as both the pulse points in his throat throbbing slowly in time with the low lub-dub that the vampire could sense in his chest. He was acutely aware, also, of all the other heartbeats around him in the ward, but he focussed himself on just this one important one. Well two, he amended, letting his gaze stray to Nina who was still murmuring anything and everything she could think of to her boyfriend. She was already one of the group. Annie rounded the other side of the bed from Nina and simply stood, arms curled tightly to her body as if she were cold.
In his sleep, George's nose twitched and a slight smile hung on his lips for a few seconds. He had sensed Nina, or perhaps all of them – Mitchell couldn't be sure but he knew it slowed his pulse further and made him breathe a little deeper as he relaxed. Maybe Annie was right about it being a good thing for someone to stay with him, not for protection but as a comfort, but it seemed like the nurses were on the ball. Already, Nina's friend was at the door, quietly urging them to leave before they were caught. “I think we have to make a move, ladies.” then, to the sleeping man in the bed, he said, “We'll be back for you tomorrow, George. You'll be as good as new in no time.” He said quietly.
Annie moved around the side of the bed and touched his bare arm. “I'll be watching over you from time to time tonight so don't you worry. You'll be safe.” She added, a meaningful look at Mitchell that as much as told him she would be spending tonight flitting between here and home, no matter what.
Nina raised George's hand and tenderly kissed his fingers. She felt his hand contract briefly around hers as she laid it back on the bed. She smiled and her tears ran freely. “I'll see you tomorrow, baby.” She whispered and took Mitchell's outstretched hand.
The three of them left the side ward and headed out to the car together.
****
The rain from the previous evening left the roads silvered as the sun rose. The light shining off them was blinding, but doubly uncomfortable for Mitchell. Nina had stayed at the house last night, in George's room where she had cried herself to sleep while keeping her broken arm on top of the duvet. None of them had slept particularly well, but Annie less than any as she had done just as she saw fit and kept going to the hospital to check on George. On her last visit at about 4am, one of the other patients, an elderly gentleman, had woken up and seen her. She was stooping over George and putting her cold hand on his warm forehead and examining the already lightening bruises around his neck. The patient, thinking she was trying to murder a patient, insisted on pressing the alarm buzzer so Annie had to do a disappearing act in front of the man's eyes leaving behind one very confused old man. The nurse had come along and quieted him down by telling him it was just a nightmare.
This morning, straight after breakfast, Nina had rung the hospital – it was her friend, the nurse, who answered and told her George had had a peaceful night and was awake and wolfing down his breakfast. This sparked a laugh from Nina that was entirely inappropriate but forgivable. She asked how soon it would be before they could come and bring him home and her friend said the police were there already, waiting to get his statement so any time within the next half an hour to an hour should be fine. She lamented that she'd be off shift by then – she was off the clock as they spoke so Nina let her go.
*****
Mitchell opened the door and held it there while Nina helped George out of the car. It was just after 10am and the police interview had been short and unhelpful since George couldn't remember anything of the night before aside from the fact that he and Nina had been to see a really bad film.
He hissed as he took the step up into the house but refused to let anyone help him. It was with a sigh of relief that he plumped himself down on the sofa, holding a hand tightly to his right side as he did so. Annie, who had stayed home, hurried into the living room with a cup of tea and handed it to George as if it were an offering made of pure gold. Nina sat close beside him and the two embraced quickly and gingerly, each afraid of hurting the other. Mitchell took the chair and Annie presented both Nina and Mitchell with cups of coffee before sitting herself down on the floor beside Mitchell's chair.
“So you really don't remember what happened last night?” Annie asked as George drank his tea.
In a voice that might well have been hoarse from screaming, he replied slowly. “Bits and pieces, but nothing much really.” Talking was still hard for him right now so he took another drink of hot tea even though it burned his throat. He winced but swallowed it.
“Did you recognise any of the vampires? Can you remember any of that?” Mitchell asked.
George closed his eyes, brow furrowed as he tried to remember, then opened them slowly. There was a sparkle of something akin to knowledge there but he slowly shook his head. “I'm not even sure how many there were.” He rasped quietly. “The one choking me had blue eyes but I don't suppose that helps.” He added with a deep breath.
Nina let out a low groan as she moved and jolted her broken arm. George leaned close to her ear. “Tomorrow night all these will be healed.” Nina frowned and looked at him. “One of the only perks of being a werewolf – instant healing after the full moon.” He offered a dry smile but Nina paled. With everything that had happened, she'd forgotten about that. Tomorrow night she was going to have her first transformation and if it were even half as painful as it seemed... she could barely finish the thought, it brought on a gag reflex. As if able to read her mind, George touched her hair with a pained expression. He hadn't said it to upset her, far from it, he only wanted to reassure her she would be completely healed afterwards. It did no good, though, as Nina scrambled to her feet and ran upstairs, holding one hand to her mouth. George watched with sad eyes but didn't follow. Annie went to the foot of the stairs but stopped when she heard George speak.
“Mitchell?” He murmured hoarsely.
“Yeah?”
The werewolf hesitated. “Do you know all the vampires in Bristol?” George finally asked, turning a doleful look in the vampire's direction. It was hurting him to talk, it was clear.
“Not all of them, no. But most of 'em.” Mitchell admitted, understanding that his instinct that George had remembered more than he let on was correct. Annie watched the conversation while listening to Nina vomiting loudly upstairs.
“Female; short dark hair; beautiful, dark eyes; slim; about 5' 9”; wears Docs; smokes Silk Cut.” George listed the traits slowly, some he must have sensed, scented more than seen.
Mitchell shook his head. “There could be a dozen or so.” He pondered for a second or two. “Lauren fit that bill.”
“The one that hurt Nina wasn't Lauren.”
“No, no, of course not. Um, there was Sharon, Abi, Eileen, Esther, um, Julie, Marie-Anne...”
George let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. “Julie... or Julia?”
Mitchell was taken aback. “Come to think of it, it might have been Julia. She was a kinda new Recruit so I didn't interact with her much when I went back.” He paused as the implication set in. “Oh sh*t.” He looked up to find George with a stricken expression on his face. “Oh Jesus, George. Are you saying what I think you're saying?”
George closed his eyes, tears hovering at his lashes but he didn't speak. The revelation had taken what was left of his voice from him. His ex girlfriend, the former love of his life from whom he had fled leaving her behind along with the rest of his human world, was a vampire!
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Post by Melissa Kane on May 8, 2009 10:32:40 GMT
Chapter Seventeen
“Julia?” Annie repeated. She had met George's ex only once, saved the woman's life in fact when she became trapped in the isolation room with George just as he was about to change. That was, in fact, the first time she'd left the house and that was because of George's desperate pleas that he was trapped and he was going to tear Julia apart of she didn't. Annie remembered that because it was the first time someone other than a supernatural had seen her. She and Julia had sat on the fire escape nearby talking all night while George raged away in the sealed room below them. But George had said she had gone back home – Julia herself had said she was going home. There was no way she could have been here. “You have to be wrong. Surely.” Annie desperately hoped this was the case.
“Never forget a scent.” George replied, finding his voice but swallowing with an effort. He looked at the stairs and sighed. “I'll go and see if she's okay.” He said, uttering a low squeal as he pushed himself to his feet. A shadow of the pain that was to come in just under 32 hours time, he knew, but pain nonetheless.
Mitchell was on his feet in a heartbeat. “You are staying put. Sit. Stay.” George obeyed. “Good dog.”
“I'll go and check on Nina.” Annie offered, sounding a little shaky as she set off up the stairs.
Mitchell sat beside George. “Julia was Recruited. How?” He mused aloud.
“However vampires get Recruited, I suppose.”
Mitchell realised just how little his friend knew about vampires and the supernatural in general and was about to point this out when he also realised that considering he had only been aware of the supernatural for less than three years, and spend all but a couple of months of it trying to deny the fact that it existed at all, he was doing rather well. “To Recruit someone, a vampire has to first almost drain a human of blood then allow them to consume some of the vampires blood.”
George was regarding him with a disgusted expression. “So it can't happen by accident, then?” He asked. Mitchell shook his head. George took a deep breath and whimpered. “They took her on purpose then. Not like me and... I mean, Nina and I.” Even when he was in pain and the effort of speaking was torturing him, he was still constantly structuring then restructuring himself. A little like his affliction, in a roundabout way.
“No, every vampire was made purposely by another vampire. No accidents, but with us not every survivor becomes a vampire unlike werewolves...”
Nina re-entered the room having descended the stairs so quietly, she might well have been as ghostly as Annie who followed along behind her. However, the boys were both looking at her as soon as she appeared.
*****
As soon as he knew the other were alright, Mitchell grabbed his coat and cap, and the obligatory sunglasses of course, and headed off out. Annie had called after him asking where he was going but he'd just shouted back over his shoulder that he had an errand to run. He made the long walk to the undertakers in a little under twenty minutes and found himself standing outside, looking at the handsome building and centring himself for the expected encounters with those he would find within. Strangely, without Annie and George watching his back, he felt vulnerable – this was one thing he hated about his abstention from his addiction. He had once been independent, or so he'd liked to think, but now he was reliant on others to help him keep to the straight and narrow. And it was in defence of one of his best friends that he had to do this. With his mind made up, he crossed the street and opened the white door under the ornate stone lintel. Inside was a second door, half-glass and emblazoned with “B Edwards Funeral Directors”. He entered with some trepidation, for the hundredth time questioning his wisdom in coming here alone.
He could, of course, have brought Annie but the two of them had been snapping and sniping at each other since yesterday now so he didn't want to risk yet another spat like that. He wanted to let her calm down first.
The undertakers reception area looked just as he had last seen it, though one of the chairs from around the table was still missing, he noted. Behind the desk, an older man looked up, his hair was greying at the temples and he gave a kindly smile as he stood. This changed in a second. “Oh, its you.” He grunted, more inconvenienced than in awe of the once-great Mitchell. The pang was unexpected – bizarrely he found himself missing the way Seth would fawn over him a little. A lot, actually.
“Nice to see you too, Lewis.” Mitchell kept his calm air.
“What do you want?” Lewis grumbled irritably. “You're not welcome here.”
“Pratchett. Where is he?” Mitchell demanded.
“Out.”
“Just out, eh?” Mitchell repeated. “The why have I just seen him come in here?” He lied but kept his face completely deadpan.
“No you've not, he's been downstairs for hours.” Lewis snapped back before realising what he'd said.
Mitchell pressed his lips together. “Gotcha” he thought. “So he is here. Phone him and tell him I'm coming down. Now.” With that, Mitchell pushed the other vampire aside and strode off through the door. He had no qualms anymore. He headed down the stairs and made his way to the garage/office that had once belonged to Herrick. Mitchell was surprised by the change in layout. The cars were still there but the room looked more finished. The desk wasn't floating in limbo any longer. There were cabinets and even a computer. Pratchett's approach was far more practical, it seemed. As if summoned by the thought of his name, the big vampire appeared as if from nowhere. He loomed up in front of Mitchell looking annoyed.
“What are you doing barging in 'ere?” He demanded.
“We need to talk. The deal was broken.” Mitchell said speaking as plainly as Pratchett.
“Yeah, I know. One of our nurses told me. Your lyco is recoverin', though?” This seemed like a polite enquiry but Mitchell somehow knew it wasn't. He nodded, unwilling to mention Nina right now. “Then thats alright. I'll find the vampires responsible and punish 'em accordingly.”
“So you know who it was?”
“I do. They'll be punished when they come back. You have my word.” Pratchett sighed and turned, crossing to his desk and picking up a package wrapped in brown paper. “And speaking of the deal, you will take this to the Full Moon public house on North Street at precisely 9pm on Wednesday. You will not open it or tamper with it in any way. All you need to do is hand it over to the licensee then wait. He'll send you back here with an envelope for me.” As he spoke, Pratchett came back to Mitchell and dropped the parcel into his hands. It was heavy, about the size of a fairly thick book, and there was an aroma coming from it which evoked memories of his years in the army, before the encounter with Herrick and his vampires.
“Wednesday night?” Mitchell asked.
“Thats what I said.”
“But the deal...”
“It stands. The incident was regrettable but it won't happen again.” Pratchett said dismissively.
Mitchell took a breath to steady himself. “George has a friend, a girlfriend. She has to be protected too.”
Pratchett fixed him with a cold gaze. “You made the terms already. Girlfriends weren't a part of the deal.”
“I said my friends need protecting. She is one of them.”
“The deal stands. I'm not Herrick. I do not change the rules at the drop of a hat. Now get out of here. Lily and Bell will see you out." Mitchell was aware of his old friend Bell approaching, and he saw Lily, the lady from the canteen at the hospital. She they had Recruited her after all. That was why she hadn't been there the other morning as he had expected. Part of him mourned for her but the look of insane glee on her face chilled him.
“Its alright. I know my way out.” He insisted, turning and leaving before anyone could come with him.
*****
When he arrived home half an hour or so later, the house was quiet. Annie was sitting, curled up on the couch, dozing. George was sitting in the red chair, a book open on his lap but he was staring at the pages, not seeming to be reading at all but lost in thought. “Hey.” Mitchell greeted, putting the parcel on the table by the door.
George looked up. “Hi.” He whispered, putting a finger to his lips then pointing to Annie.
Mitchell nodded and sat himself down at the opposite end of the couch as carefully as he could. “Where's Nina?” He asked, looking around.
“In my room, asleep.” George told him hoarsely. “It's all caught up the them.” He added with a nod, almost like he was trying to confirm his own words.
Annie stirred and rubbed at her eyes. “Oh, Mitchell. Hi. Where did you go out to?” She asked, fussing already.
“Just out. Nowhere special.”
There was a short, pregnant pause. “What's this... deal, then, Mitchell?” Annie asked softly.
“Deal?”
“Nina said that, um that Julia mentioned a deal that protected George but not her.” George winced at her using his ex's name but Annie knew she had to ask. Two pairs of eyes watched him, trusting him to tell them the truth this time. Which he did. As he finished his explanation, he found himself seeing two differing reactions. Annie seemed annoyed, George sympathetic. “So you have to do whatever he tells you to do?” Annie said in a tone full of barely-constrained anger.
“Pretty much.”
“But he could ask you to do anything. To frighten someone. To kill someone, maybe? Or what if he asked you to Recruit a child? Would you do it then, just to save us?” Annie demanded, noticing the flinch from Mitchell.
“I was doing it to save you. I had myself cast out for you, for the both of you.”
“But you aren't out. You're not free. He's got you where he wants you, now. He's using us as a bargaining chip to keep you in line.” Annie's voice was getting louder the angrier she became. “Mitchell, how could you be so stupid?!”
Mitchell opened his mouth to respond, but a soft voice broke in. “He was doing what he thought was right.” George interjected, cringing as his voice gave way.
“But it wasn't right. You can't leave well enough alone, can you?” Annie argued. “Its like with me and Michael. You can't accept that he and I are right for each other so you have to interfere, to try to make him feel unwelcome.”
“Michael is bad news, I can feel it. There's somethin' about him.”
“There's nothing about him that you haven't just invented in your head! You're a control freak. Mitchell. You want to keep us both right here where you want us. God, Michael was so right when he said I need to be free of you. He said you were the kind of person who thinks that if he doesn't like someone, no-one else is allowed to either. And he's right isn't he?”
“I have good people sense and something about Michael is wrong! Don't you think thats weird that he wants to separate you from us?” Mitchell shouted back. He was sick of the petty sniping. They'd get this all out in the open once and for all. "Tully did the same with George, remember?"
George had been watching the argument back and forth like he was attending Wimbledon. Having his best friends at each others throats was terrible to see after all they'd been through together. “Who's Michael?” George asked timidly, hoping to ease the tension that was threatening to crush them all.
“He's my boyfriend.” Annie snapped caustically. Mitchell let out a disgusted huff.
“Oh.” George mumbled, then in as conversational and non-threatening a tone as he could muster right now, he asked. “Thats nice. Do I get to meet him, then?”
“You already have!” Annie yelled and disappeared.
Thoroughly confused and abashed and feeling vaguely guilty for no real reason, George could only watch as Mitchell stalked off the to kitchen leaving him and his book alone in the sitting room.
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Post by Melissa Kane on May 8, 2009 10:33:38 GMT
Chapter Eighteen
Annie stood on the winding path through the graveyard, her arms wrapped around her stomach. She wasn't feeling the chill in the air, of course. She was beyond all that - but sometimes, if she thought about it, she could imagine being cold, or warm, and it made her feel that way. It was all in her mind but Michael had shown her how to control things like her clothing and moving objects accurately with her mind. And Michael had begun to show her how to travel greater distances. It was a matter of quietening the swirl of energy inside her and pointing it at a particular place. This was something she had not yet mastered, but Michael had given her a hug and assured her that these things take time.
On her own, based on the things he had taught her, Annie had also begun experimenting with using this power to allow herself sensations. She could be touched by other supernaturals, that was true, but she didn't really feel it in the same way as a solid form would. But the other day, when Mitchell had touched her back as he passed by, she had felt it. Really felt it!
She'd even considered experimenting with eating or drinking. She'd seen Michael drinking that coffee when they first met and he seemed to be able to control that too – Annie wanted to be just like him, to learn how to do these extraordinary things. But she was nervous of asking him, after he'd already done so much for her. She didn't want Michael thinking she was simply using him. The truth was, she enjoyed spending time with him. He was witty and smart, he knew everything about everything and had the most adorable smile.
Annie began to walk the paths, letting her feet lead her. She wanted to spend more time with Michael but she also didn't want to neglect her friends. They were the driving force behind all this but Mitchell – Mitchell was making everything so bl**dy impossible. Alright, he wasn't Michael's number one fan. Annie had to admit that even she thought that her boyfriend acted a little strangely sometimes. But the things he knew. Michael had been there, seen it and done it. He could even conjure up the t-shirt to prove it. And, best of all, Michael wasn't like Owen. Yet she still felt she had to please Mitchell. She hated that they were fighting over this difference of opinion and felt a small twinge of guilt that she had taken it out on George too, just when the poor guy didn't need it. She'd apologise when she got home, to both of them.
When she stopped walking and looked around, she found herself right in front of her grave. Annie gave herself a moment and smiled a little. Gilbert had been right, her grave stone was pretty, plain black marble with gold writing. Someone had recently placed flowers there, probably for the second anniversary of her passing, their colours still vibrant and alive. She picked them up and looked at the card. “Remembering you always, with love from mum and dad”. Overcome, Annie sat down on her grave, her back against her headstone, and cried a little as she cradled the flowers to her chest.
*****
George looked toward the kitchen, though from his position in the living room, he could only see the movement of shadows through the little hatch. Mitchell had been rattling pans and generally abusing the sturdier contents of the kitchen for about half an hour now. No doubt, George thought, a release of pent up frustration relating to the weirdness that just happened with Annie. At one point, George was sure that the he heard something delicate break and had a niggling feeling it was one of his favourite china mugs. Annie didn't appear to be around, unless she was in her room. Unless she was with this Michael fellow who was her as yet unseen boyfriend. Unseen by only himself, George amended mentally, given Mitchell's reaction.
Pushing his glasses down his nose a little, he tried to get back to reading his book until Mitchell was calmed down enough to talk to but in all honesty, thingyen's Little Dorritt was hardly light reading by any stretch of the imagination. After reading the same page three times, he gave up and closed the tome on his lap with a sigh. Reading about a hideously failed marriage proposal was not the most cheery of subjects. Again, George glanced at the kitchen. All seemed quieter now so setting his book aside, George moved carefully and slowly to his feet, wincing as the dressing on the small of his back pulled slightly.
As he crossed the distance to the kitchen, he was aware that Mitchell was sitting at the table. Equally, given how close the full moon was, he could smell the strong coffee he held between his begloved hands and wrinkled his nose at the three sugars he knew were in there. He sat down carefully in an empty chair and watched his best friend just stare into the milky mass of caffeine.
“Are you feeling calmer now?” George asked, shuffling a couple of cups of cold tea and coffee around idly.
Mitchell looked up. “Hey, you should be resting.” He commented.
“And how can I rest when it sounds like you're playing a kettle drum in here?” He replied drily, raising his eyebrows. Mitchell couldn't really fault the reasoning and apologised. George shook his head. “So, what was that all about? Before.”
“With Annie? I dunno, something and nothing probably.”
“It didn't seem like nothing.” George insisted. “It seemed very much like something to me.”
“Her new... boyfriend. I'm not sure about him. Thats all.” Mitchell seemed a little downcast at the notion. “I was just trying to protect her.”
George was nodding sympathetically. “And apparently I've met him?”
Mitchell actually smiled. “Well, you walked through him a couple of times.” The vampire grew serious in an instant. “I can't figure out why you two can't see each other, though. You should be able to see all ghosts. Its one of the things I don't trust about him.”
Mildly surprised by the revelation. “Is he responsible for those cold spots I mentioned that, that, that you and Annie avoided giving me an answer about?”
“Yeah. I thought it might have been significant. That last month... it changed something in you so you couldn't see him. I wondered if it might wear off so I didn't mention it until I was sure.”
George took a moment to absorb this information and took off his glasses, toying with them in his hands as he considered his friend's words. “But he's not able to see me either? How is that even possible? I thought we supernaturals were an open book to each other, relatively speaking.”
“I don't know but I don't want Annie getting hurt if its something serious.”
“To be honest, Mitchell, she's a grown woman. She's more than capable of taking care of herself.”
“We thought that about you.” Mitchell added with a wry smile.
“Now that, that's a bit different. ” George protested with something akin to his usual squeak of indignation, though he did twitch a little and lower his voice halfway through speaking. “Vampires have quite an advantage over me. But Annie's with her own kind.”
“Maybe you're right.” Mitchell replied, unconvinced but able to draw a line underneath it, at least.
“Are you going shopping tomorrow?” George asked at length.
Mitchell looked up. “Yeah, why, is there something you need?”
“No, no, no-no, well, yes.” Mitchell laughed at George's indecision. “Could you pick up three large chickens?”
“Chickens? Um, okay. Barbecue or plain?” He asked, going to the refrigerator in order to write them on the list which hung from a Laurel and Hardy fridge magnet there. It was something George had found in a charity shop he had been wandering around a few months ago.
“Um, no. Raw, please.” George asked sheepishly. Mitchell shot his an odd look then wrote down the request.
*****
Annie appeared in her room a short time later and curled up in her chair. Downstairs, she heard Mitchell laughing and the background noise of the TV. Well, she couldn't put this off forever. Quietly she made her way down the stairs and into the front room where Mitchell, Nina and George were sitting on the couch watching a film on TV. Mitchell was in a simple t-shirt and jeans combo whereas Nina and George were bundled up in quite similar terry towelling dressing gowns, snuggling comfortably.
“Now that's just wrong.” George protested at something that was happening on the screen that Annie couldn't see. “The heat would have killed her long before that.”
“Oh, shut up and enjoy it.” Nina remarked, adjusting her postion to give her injured arm a little more room to rest. Mitchell, at the other end of the small couch, looked up first.
“Annie. Come on, we're watching Indiana Jones and its really, really getting up George's nose.” Mitchell invited her with a grin, as if nothing had happened.
If he could pretend like nothing was wrong, then she could too. Annie sat on the floor and leaned back against the couch and Mitchell's leg. She felt him touch her hair briefly but couldn't seem to make the sensation any more lasting, leaving her saddened.
“Oh, come on. There's no way he could just...” George began to protest again, but the others laughing at him shut him up.
*****
Last night, the four of them spending the evening watching adventure films while eating snacks and laughing together, everything seemed normal. But now, as she brushed her teeth in the light of a new morning, Nina felt sick with worry. She knew the transformation was going to happen tonight. She knew it would hurt, but she had no idea how it would feel. This unknown element was terrifying her far more than she let on. Would it be like having her arm broken? From the vivid memory of seeing her boyfriend screaming and contorting throughout the change last month – Jesus was it only 28 days ago? - Nina was certain it would be far worse.
She was just inordinately glad that George was going to be with her tonight – without him, she wasn't sure she'd be able to cope.
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Post by Melissa Kane on May 8, 2009 10:34:21 GMT
Chapter Nineteen
George watched as Nina packed a few clothes into a bag. He stood near his bedroom door holding his own sports bag over his shoulder with one hand and his aching ribs with the other. He could sense the tension in his girlfriend. She was shaking noticeably as she folded her T-shirt awkwardly, her plaster cast getting in the way for the umpteenth time. He'd tried to help but she'd snapped at him so he backed off. He knew only too well how the impending transformation heightened every emotion to an almost unbearable pitch, be it fear, hatred, anger, joy, love or lust. If pushed hard enough, they could become uncontrollable so he stopped pushing and waited patiently.
“What else do I need?” She asked without turning.
“I think you've got it all. Just your jacket and thats downstairs.” George offered. “Its just something to wear until you get home so you won't need much.”
Nina nodded her understanding tightly and zipped her backpack up before leaving the room carrying the bag by the small loop on top. George stood back to let her pass then closed his door.
“Hey!” Annie greeted as Nina made her way into the living room. “Do you want a butty?” She offered cheerfully holding up a plate of what appeared to be cucumber sandwiches.
“No thanks. I don't think I could.” Nina's stomach gave a slow roll at the thought of eating.
George stopped behind her as she reached for the thin jacket on the coat rack. “Its not a good idea to eat anything, um, beforehand.” He supplied with a small, nervous quirk of his eyebrows.
“We all set?” Mitchell asked, holding up a plain blue carrier bag in one hand and car keys in the other. The bag reeked of raw meat and Mitchell was careful to keep the bag a little away from him. There was blood pooling in the bottom, the scent of which, though not human, was somewhat appealing nonetheless.
George smiled. “I think so. Enjoy your date, Annie.” Her plans had been mentioned at breakfast in casual conversation.
“I will.” The ghost beamed. “Good luck, you two.” She replied, looking between them. They were both so tense tonight. On impulse, she gave Nina a hug and whispered, “George will take good care of you.”
Mitchell opened the front door and the two lycos followed along after him to the car. He understood perfectly when they got into the back seat together leaving him alone in the front. He set off for the hospital. Headlights followed closely along behind, not that anyone noticed.
*****
Annie was working on changing into a lovely long red dress when a knock came at the door. With a grunt of frustration, she allowed her half changed clothes to fade back to grey and white. Her frustration showed in the long cardigan which materialised with a few riffled edges. She crossed to the door and opened it slowly. Michael grinned at her from the doorstep.
“Come on in.” She greeted, opening the door wide. Michael entered, looking resplendent in a black suit and pink shirt. “Oh, look at you!” She gushed, straightening his collar gently. He leaned forward for a kiss and Annie happily obliged, sliding her arms around his neck as Michael held her about the waist.
“Hi.” Michael gasped as he pulled away. “Hmm, its worth me spending a day away, just for this.” Of course, both knew that he didn't need to gasp for air, but the force of her kiss, had he been alive, would have taken his breath away. She giggled, very pleased.
“You're a sight for sore eyes.”
“Really? I was about to say that of you. I really missed you yesterday.” Michael replied, closing the door slowly as Annie held onto one of his hands tenderly. “So, you're not ready yet?”
Annie looked away momentarily. “I was trying.”
Michael tutted. “You got distracted by your friend again?”
Annie frowned. “Another friend. Two of them, in fact. They were... mugged.”
Michael tutted again. “Can't trust anyone these days.” He clapped his hands together. “So, lets see if we can't resolve your attire situation, eh?”
*****
The basement was quiet as the three figures skulked toward the isolation room. George had been silent during the trip, withdrawn, while Mitchell and Nina tentatively discussed the previous night's film. It was, in itself, a safe subject. A number of times they tried drawing George into the conversation but he was proving uncommunicative.
Now, down here, he seemed quieter still. He pushed open the isolation room door open with ease and stopped, looking around the interior. Nina put her bag down on the floor outside and joined him. “So this is where we spend the night.” She commented with a small tremor. George ran his free hand down her back then pulled her against him for a moment. Nina nodded, steeling herself, and moved past him to enter the room. George stepped back and away from the door.
“What's wrong?” Mitchell asked, clutching the plastic bag tighter before handing it to George. Unable to meet his gaze, George instead looked in the bag before closing it sharply. “It is because of last time?” Was this finally the reaction to Herrick's death that he had been waiting for George to feel?
“No, no, well, yes but not precisely.” George stumbled over his words and offered the bag back to Mitchell before once more drawing it to himself. He took a steadying breath. Then another. He looked back at the isolation room where Nina was standing, running her fingers down the claw marks on the wall. “Mitchell, can you stay here? Make sure she's alright tonight?” His breath was coming in short, nervous gasps.
Mitchell frowned. “What are you talking about?
“Nina. Will you make sure she's okay?” He repeated.
“But you're going in there with her.” Mitchell replied, still not quite understanding George's meaning.
“I... I can't be here tonight. I'm going to go to the woods. I'll take the car. There, there's still a little more than an hour. But we, we, we can't be together. Not tonight. No, not tonight. No.” He had, at some point, taken the car keys from Mitchell and now held them in one shaky hand.
Nina had heard her name and came close. She could see the tortured expression on her boyfriend's face, and the strange dawning realisation on Mitchell's. “What's going on?”
George pressed his lips together, unable to speak. His eyes turned to Mitchell imploringly but the vampire shook his head. “George is going to the woods tonight.”
“But we're here now. Why are we going to the woods?” Nina asked, her innocent trust all but breaking George's heart.
“Not we. Me. Nina, we can't, we can't be locked up together tonight.” He was shaking his head.
“No. George you promised me. You promised you'd stay, you'd be there for me. You promised.” Nina sounded lost and hurt. George cringed.
“I know. I'm sorry...” George moved as if to leave, thrusting the keys into his pocket, but she grasped his arm with both hers, unmindful of the pain it cause her broken limb. It jarred him to a halt causing him to yelp and drop his bag but right now she didn't care. “Nina, please. I d-don't want to hurt you. To do worse than I already have.”
“What makes you think you'd harm her? George, you recognised her last month. You won't hurt her.”
“How do you know? How could you know? You don't. You can't, either of you.” George was shaking his head and trying to extract his arm from Nina's deathgrip. “No, you can't. I can't, I can't.”
Mitchell grasped his about the shoulders and made the young werewolf face him. “What's wrong?”
“I'll kill her if we get put in there. Mitchell, something happened. I don't know what but it happened.”
Mitchell was getting annoyed with this beating about the bush. “What happened? You're not making sense!”
George stopped struggling and Mitchell released him. “I stayed with the wolf last time. I don't know. Fighting the change must have... opened something up.” George's eyes were wide and frightened. “I remember being the wolf for a short time. Mitchell, I remember killing Herrick.” His eyes closed at the memory and Mitchell recognised the expression. It was the same as was on the faces of young vampires, their first kill. “I can still taste the blood, feel the flesh between my fangs.” His eyes opened and there was a touch of loss in his pale gaze. Mitchell froze. “Mitchell, I want it. God help me, I want to kill. I can feel it, the wolf, moving inside, waiting to come out. I want to hunt and kill. That's never happened before. I'm scared to death of it but I want it all the same. I need to make sure I'm not going to hurt Nina. To hurt anyone.” He was nodding desperately, the words tumbling over each other as his emotions began to run wild, his head tilting a little, animal-like. “You were right. You were. I can't put it back in its box. I don't know how. But what I can do is make sure Nina doesn't have to...” He looked at Nina, as if noticing she was there for the first time. “...That you don't have to risk being trapped with me. Can you understand that?” Mitchell was stunned and judging by the horrified look on Nina's face, she had known none of this either. George had been bottling all this up for a month without a word to any of them? It must have been driving him mad.
“No. George, you promised to stay with me. You won't hurt me. I'm just like you.” George was shaking his head but she stopped it with a hand. Nina was tearing up, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. “You can't betray me. Of every man I ever met, I never thought you'd betray me.”
George looked wounded. “No, its not betrayal.”
“You're breaking a promise. That's betrayal. Your promise has been the only thing keeping me going and you all of a sudden decide to...”
“I could KILL YOU.” George shouted over her. Then softer and in a watery voice. “We could kill each other.”
Nina stopped, now unable to prevent herself from weeping openly. “Then we'd die together.” she whispered. George closed his eyes again, lowering his head to touch her forehead with his own. He too was crying.
“Alright. Alright.” He sounded defeated, the breath he took was shaky to say the least. “I don't know why I'm doing this, but alright.” Nina moved to press her face to his chest. She listened to the accelerated beat of George's heart – the pace and power was deafening but it matched her own. In its own way, it comforted her. He wrapped his arms around her but turned a tortured gaze to Mitchell. “Will, will you watch over us tonight?” Mitchell nodded, not entirely sure what it was George expected of him if his dire prediction of his blood lust turned out to be true.
George released Nina and indicated that she should enter the isolation room. She did so hesitantly. Mitchell saw the worry lines on George's forehead deepen. “You won't hurt her. I know you won't.”
George glanced at Nina then back at his friend. “I don't want to be a killer.”
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Post by Melissa Kane on May 8, 2009 10:35:00 GMT
Chapter 20
Mitchell was standing outside the isolation room, on guard, as George joined Nina inside. The door was a little ajar.
Nina scratched idly at the plaster cast on her left arm as George took the three whole chickens from the bag and tore them apart, throwing pieces around the room before upturning the bag to drip the blood on the floor. Nina could smell everything and her stomach gave another slow roll of disapproval even as her mouth began watering. “So, what do we do?” She asked.
George threw the bag into the corner and joined Nina. He wiped his blood-covered hand down his jeans then laid his palm flat on her midriff. “Can you feel it? Right here.” He asked.
“My chest and stomach feel warm inside.” Nina replied honestly. “I thought it might have been heartburn when I got it last night.”
George shook his head seriously. “Thats the change brewing, the wolf is waking up slowly. The heat spreads and at first, its nice. Its like you're your own little central heating system. But it just keeps getting hotter. Your skin itches like crazy. Its best to take your clothes off then. It feels easier. Plus, then, they don't get shredded in the change.”
Nina licked her lips. “All our clothes?” George nodded. He drew close to her, tenderly removing her necklace and ear studs. Both could feel a stirring inside them.
“The sensation of anything but air on your skin is maddening.” He informed her quietly.
Nina nodded. George's brow twitched as his attention drifted off somewhere for a moment. He then crossed the room and nodded at Mitchell outside. Removing his glasses and necklace, which he had bought a new chain for, he handed all their belongings to Mitchell. The vampire slid everything into a small, clear, resealable bag and put them in his jacket pocket as George pulled the door closed and pushed up the handle of the interior lock. It was a large and clumsy lock, but this way he didn't always have to rely on Mitchell to let him... to let them out in a morning anymore.
Outside, Mitchell heard the lock engage and moved, putting his eye to the peephole. The blood was less appealing now, it had lost its vitality and for this Mitchell was grateful, though it didn't prevent his eyes darkening for a second or two with the hunger. He kept watch, feeling a little like a Peeping Tom as the two werewolves slowly undressed.
Nina's cheeks flushed as she watched George slide his shirt off over his head and neatly folded it, putting it on the floor near the wall. The bruising on his right side was a livid purple while the damage to his throat and collar bone was already yellowing. It all still looked sore but she watched him pat the contusions on his toned body experimentally. It should have hurt but he didn't respond. “They're healing. How's your arm?” He asked as she began having some unclean thoughts.
Nina only now realised that the broken bones were getting warm and they felt better. Flexing her fingers with little or no pain, she said as much and George nodded encouragingly. He stooped to remove his jeans. Nina was warming up, her core temperature seeming to increase with every passing second. As George had told her, her skin was becoming warmed and she was beginning to have a creeping sensation, almost like the unpleasant tickling feeling she got when she thought of insects crawling over her skin. Formication, it was called, referring to the formic acid that ants secreted when attacked which causes skin irritation. She began to remove her layers until she was left standing only in her bra and knickers and plaster cast. George, fully unclothed, was responding as nature intended as he moved closer and kissed her with a soft, pleasurable growl.
His skin was hot to the touch as she pushed him back. As predicted, she was finding even the thin fabric of her undergarments constrictive – the cast was worse, though she could do nothing about that. She removed the last of her garments then allowed her gaze to meet her lovers. She could feel her pulse racing though she'd done nothing energetic. Blood rushed through her ears at an incalculable speed. She knew that she should feel light-headed or something given the pace of her heart rate which she estimated was pushing 180 beats per minute and climbing. She breathing was faster now but nowhere near to panting as she should be. The heat inside was becoming unbearable, like her internal organs were cooking. Her skin, likewise, felt like it was on fire, though it was a relief from the creeping sensation. She let out a small whine which even she had to admit was more animal than human.
George ran his hand down the side of her face, apology written in his eyes and on his face. But there was also something else there. Desire. He wanted her. He was breathing quickly but deeply, remarkably in control. She found, watching his chest rise and fall, that she wanted him too, but the strange things her body was doing was frightening her. He seemed to understand this innately because he didn't try to kiss her again. He only held a hand to her scarred stomach and Nina leaned her face into his other hand, the one caressing her cheek, ear and neck. George slid his hand from her stomach, around her side to the small of her back and pulled her to him. In return, Nina put her arms around him and felt the rough skin at the base of his spine. Beneath her fingers, the wounds from being scraped down a pebble-dashed wall were slowly disappearing. The medical community would find this amazing.
They stayed in their embrace for the longest time, so long, in fact, that Nina wondered if the change was going to ever come at all. Her entire body was on fire, and it was exacerbated by the heat she was drawing for George – her skin should have been charcoaled, she thought, but a quick glance told her she was as pink and pale as always. “Here it comes.” George whispered, releasing her a microsecond before a loud crack hit the air. He bent double with a deafening scream and dropped on one knee. Nina almost stepped forward to help when she felt her spine collapse. She was vaguely aware of an audible crack. The wave of agony that ran through her, radiating from her midsection, floored her and she dropped to the floor a few feet from George with a piercing scream. The sensation was accompanied by an inferno, making her earlier body temperature quite mild in comparison. It was almost like she was being engulfed by fire and that sensation lingered for what seemed like forever. She was, at one point, able to raise her head and she could see George looking at her. He was in a half-crouch and watching her sadly.
Nina lowered her head, fully aware of a high and agonised second scream from nearby, but she was too absorbed in her own torment. There and then she understood why George had been unable to describe the change. She could feel her organs doing their work, she was aware of every cell going about its business. But most acutely, she was aware of her bones, her joints, they were becoming more energised. As this notion hit her, so too did a second wave of pain. It was worse than the first and she let out a shriek louder and more prolonged than any she had ever uttered before. She had to scream because to keep silent was not an option. She screamed over and over, her throat tearing from the effort to trying to let out some of the pain. Her vision blurred and she was fully aware of a change in her field of vision. The world changed to a dulled range of grey and blue shades more intricate and understandable than anything in the full-colour world. Were it not for the abject agony that it came with, this new for of sight might be beautiful.
Suddenly her heart began fluttering hard and with no rhythm at all, like a trapped butterfly in its death throes. She arched her back as a sharp pain shot through her chest from front to back. She was having a heart attack. Her heart had stopped dead in her chest. She was dying and would be released from this! Simultaneously, her lungs shuddered to a halt, her trachea closed up and twisted into a tight knot in her throat. Her liver, kidneys and stomach began to contort as their functions ceased. She writhed and shook, her body trembling and vibrating. The death of each organ sent a bolt of pure fire through her. She jaw cracked loudly and her canine teeth stretched and rearranged themselves into a vicious set of fangs, her gums were bleeding internally but no blood was able to hit the air as her soft tissue transformed.
She should be dead. She was clinically dead. Dear Christ, how she wanted to be dead! But her mind was still aware, she was still aware. All those life giving organs began to shift, to alter in shape, in size, in location, in consistency. The veins connecting all organs and areas closed up as her blood stopped flowing. Yet she was still in excruciating pain and even without vital signs, she was alive. There were no words for what came next as every bone from her toes to her skull began to shatter in sequence. She felt every single bone break and begin to reshape and each tiny movement caused a paroxysm in her tortured body. Her fingers and toes began to reform and claws thrust through each digit at the same time, shredding the skin and bringing on a new wave of agony as she watched her talons growing.
She resumed her screeching as her newly reformed throat slotted into place but the sound which assailed her ears was more of a savage snarl than a human cry. In the dim room, her all new olfactory system was picking up another werewolf but her mind was twisting, her brain folding and reshaping as her cranium assumed a new position. She felt her face beginning to elongate. She curled over as her spine began to reshape, her coccyx lengthening down into a real tail. Each vertebra popped out of position and moved as her ribs contorted and expanded, simultaneously bending her spine further and straightening her upper body. This was the last thing of which she was aware before Nina the nurse lost herself to the wolf.
*****
Mitchell had kept his eye to the peephole, diligently watching his friends go through hell. The shreiks and screams hurt him and though all he had wanted to do was walk away until it was over, he was fascinated. A curse so cruel, so destructive and dangerous, couldn't be natural. Werewolves couldn't simply evolve.
The change took all of ten minutes, from the first scream to the simultaneous howls which announced the arrival of two werewolves into this moon-filled night, but Mitchell was willing to bet that it had felt like a lifetime to them, but most especially Nina. He had seen her muscles begin to ripple and gain in mass and how a single movement, a flex of her hand as her claws began to grow, had pretty much reduced her plaster cast to dust. Not that she would need it afterwards, according to George.
Now he had to watch carefully. The larger, darker wolf that he recognised as George snuffled noisily at the air. The other wolf drew back with a snarl, obviously not sure of the scents and surroundings she found herself in. George uttered an odd half growl, half mewl, and approached the second wolf. He drew closer and snuffled some more, a sound strangely evocative of wetness and heat. Nina moved away with George following and they passed to the side of the room, out of sight from the peephole. Mitchell heard that same growl-mewl sound, distinctly non-threatening, then a snarl. This was a different pitch and Mitchell seemed sure it was Nina. There came sounds of the scuffling of claws on concrete and suddenly the two lurched into view. The lighter coloured werewolf dropped to her hands and knees and the larger wolf moved on top of her, jaws gripping the scruff of her neck and clawed paws scraping the ground. Mitchell now did look away.
One thing was perfectly clear. If George was going to hurt Nina, he would have done so by now. Instead the ardour he had begun to form before the change was still very much in place after. Watching the transformation was one thing, but spying on them preparing to unite in a pleasurable circumstance was quite another. A worldly man such as himself had had experience in a lot of things, but there were some thing that were best left unseen. The pretty specific cacophony of growls and howls from beyond the door were as graphic as he wanted to get, thankyou very much.
Sitting down on the sports bag on the floor outside, Mitchell found his mind wandering to Annie and her new boyfriend. His lip curled at the thought of a new man in her life and it hit him that perhaps he was jealous. What had he to be jealous of? Annie was his friend and he wanted someone for her who was good. Had she been right? Was his jealousy the thing that was making him dislike Michael so much? No, after a century of living, he trusted his senses implicitly, but began to think he might have added some of his envy to the mix.
Maybe Michael was just an odd kind of ghost. But one that was unable to see werewolves and who was invisible to them? No, George was right on that – the normal rules of the supernatural community really didn't apply here and they should. It was a universal truth that even if they can't recognise each other, all supernaturals are visible to one another. Michael was something other than supernatural then? Either way, Annie needed protecting from herself.
As the thought of protection, Mitchell jolted. He's completely forgotten about the parcel he had to deliver for Pratchett tonight. 9pm, the Full Moon pub – appropriate, Mitchell smirked. He licked his lips and looked back at the door as he got smoothly to his feet. Risking a peek through the peephole, and fervently hoping he wasn't going to go blind at what he saw, Mitchell could see the two werewolves, George was crouched beside Nina, watching. He looked up upon sensing Mitchell watching but made no move. Those golden eyes burrowed into his soul, almost as if George were still partially there, which given what he'd said a while ago, he might well be. For her part, Nina was growling contentedly and licking inside the ribcage of a chicken with a long pink tongue. She seemed unaware of Mitchell.
No, they wouldn't mind him skipping out for a couple of hours. He'd be back by dawn and they'd never have to know he went anywhere. They'd be safe in the isolation room tonight. Checking his watch, Mitchell saw it was just gone 8:15pm leaving him plenty of time to swing by the house, grab the parcel and hightail it over to North Street before the deadline. With another backward glance, he headed off home.
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