Changeling (6 page)

Read Changeling Online

Authors: Steve Feasey

‘Your hands,’ he said, nodding towards the flesh where, only hours earlier, there had been a mass of angry pus-filled burns.

Lucien glanced down at the area that Trey was staring at. He smiled awkwardly and shrugged his shoulders. ‘I told you, Trey, I am a very quick healer. Now, if you would like to . . .’

Trey looked up into those alien eyes again. A small gasp escaped him as all of the fears and doubts and feelings he had harboured about this stranger suddenly crushed in on him. He backed away from him, catching his heel on one of the rugs as he did so, and stumbled, but quickly regained his footing. He felt as if he was moving through treacle, his limbs not responding to his commands to get as far away from this man as possible. He kept his eyes locked on Lucien, who remained in the doorway, and desperately tried to remember the layout of the room as he retreated towards the lift doors on the other side.

Lucien followed the boy with eyes that reflected nothing but concern. ‘Trey, are you all right?’ he asked. ‘If it’s about the blisters, I can explain. Maybe you thought they were worse than they really were. You were tired and—’

Trey found it difficult to control his voice – it trembled and quivered as he spoke. ‘No. I know what I saw earlier. I watched your skin erupt in great angry blisters that should have taken days or weeks to heal. And that happened because you exposed yourself to the sun for a fraction of a second, Lucien.’ He thought back to the moment that Lucien had stared into the eyes of Colin Wallington and seemed to
see
into his inner secrets. He thought of how the world had seemed to stop when he had done this. But most of all, he thought of the dead fly and how it had appeared to come back to life as soon as Lucien’s mood had changed, having bent Colin’s will to his own.

He should have run from the room at the care home then. He should have got as far away from this . . .
thing
as he could when he had the chance.

The dangers that Lucien had alluded to earlier that morning were clear and present all right. Trey had just been too brainless to realize that they had been standing right in front of him all along.

Trey’s back finally met with the wall at the far end of the room and his hand crabbed its way along the surface behind him, trying to locate the elevator button. He rested his finger against it, the flat pad of his finger pressing lightly against the resistance afforded by the switch without fully engaging the mechanism to call the lift. Even now, with fear filling every part of his being, he couldn’t bring himself to call upon the only means of escape available to him.

Why was that? Why didn’t he obey the part of him that bellowed inside him to get away? He shook his head, frowning at his inability to act. Because you want to know for certain, Trey, the niggling voice of the worry-worm inside his head chided. Because you want to know if what you believe about him is really true. And because, despite your fear, you still believe that he can tell you things about yourself and your parents that you
need
to know.

Trey could not remember seeing Lucien move away from the kitchen door and cross the room towards him. Yet the man stood no more than a few metres away from him now, still wearing that look of concern and pity that he had throughout.

Trey’s hands were shaking so badly that they slipped off the elevator button and he frantically sought to locate it again.

An image appeared in his mind’s eye. A perfect freeze-frame image of the little black fly lying on its back on the windowsill.

He looked up at the man again and fought to keep his voice under control. ‘Your . . . skin complaint,’ he said, ignoring the catch in his voice that made it difficult for him to get the words out properly. ‘I take it that you’ve had it for a long time?’

‘All my life.’

‘So you can only go out safely at night then? You can’t be exposed to sunlight?’

‘That’s correct, Trey,’ Lucien responded. A sad smile played momentarily at the edges of his mouth. ‘But you had already worked that out, hadn’t you? You are a bright lad, but you’ve been battling against your instincts since we met. Why? Why won’t you listen to that inner voice of yours and ask me the question that is really bothering you?’

‘And what is that, Lucien?’ Trey’s voice sounded alien to his own ears, as though he were merely mouthing the words and someone else inhabited his body at that moment.

‘Do I really need to tell you? Is hearing it from my lips the only way that you can believe what your instincts are telling you about
what
I am?’

Trey wavered slightly. His vision had gone slightly out of focus and dark objects danced around in front of his eyes. He willed himself to breathe, but his lungs refused to obey. ‘Maybe that’s it. Maybe I have to hear you say it.’ He struggled to get these words out. His shaking finger accidentally depressed the button behind him fully and he could hear the lift engine hum quietly into life as it ascended from a lower floor.

Lucien stared at Trey with those odd, frightening eyes for what seemed like an age, before finally nodding the smallest of nods.

‘I’m a vampire, Trey. A night-stalker. Undead. A nether-creature.’

Trey’s peripheral vision had all but gone completely now, replaced by a grey curtain that obscured everything not directly in front of him in a thick fog. He tried to speak, but no words would come. His knees buckled slightly, and the effect was enough to make him stagger forward a step, just as the lift door behind him announced its arrival with a soft pinging sound. He reached out to grab a hold of something that wasn’t there, his hands closing around nothing but the air in front of him, and he collapsed into the thick shagpile carpet.

Lucien called for Tom as he knelt down next to Trey.

‘What’s happened?’ the Irishman asked as he hurried across the room to help.

‘He’s fainted,’ Lucien said.

‘Fainted?’

‘He collapsed. I think a combination of the lack of food coupled with the realization that you have run away with a vampire would cause most people to pass out.’ He looked up at Tom and sighed. ‘I had wished to explain all of this to him in a more . . . controlled manner. I think that we should move Trey to his room so that he will be more comfortable.’

He stood up and effortlessly lifted Trey’s unconscious body in his arms. He followed Tom across the room and through the furthest door on the left, where they gently placed Trey on a bed, exchanging concerned looks as they stood back from the prone figure.

Tom quietly pulled closed the door behind them and turned to look over at his vampire boss. ‘Do you think he will be all right?’ he asked.

Lucien shook his head and cast his eyes towards the door. ‘I sincerely hope so, Tom, because young Mr Laporte is going to need every ounce of strength to survive what lies ahead of him in the next few days and weeks.’

5

Trey opened his eyes. He took in the details of the strange ceiling overhead and remembered where he was. He slowly turned his head and stopped, the breath catching in his throat when he saw the girl sitting in the chair next to his bed. She was looking down and reading the book held in her lap.

Even though she was sitting, it was clear that she was tall, with long black hair that hung down her back in a ponytail. She was dressed in a grey-striped top under a shiny black waistcoat, with a short grey skirt and black leggings. Her make-up was in a ‘goth’ style, and, while it had not been applied too harshly, Trey thought that it seemed to spoil the soft lines of her heart-shaped face. It was clear to him that, despite the make-up, she was painfully pretty: maybe even beautiful. He guessed she was about sixteen years old.

As if aware of his scrutiny for the first time, she folded the corner of the page that she was on and closed the book before lifting her face to look at him. She examined his face for a moment before revealing her perfect teeth in a broad smile.

‘You must be Trey,’ she said casually. ‘My father has told me an awful lot about you.’

‘Well, that’s a whole lot more than he’s told me,’ he replied, immediately regretting the petulant tone in his voice. He knew from the intensity of her eyes that she must be Lucien’s daughter.

There was a pause, during which she nodded thoughtfully. ‘This must all seem like the weirdest day of your life at the moment, huh?’ she said. ‘Running away from that care home with some guy that you’ve never met before – that’s pretty hardcore. Then you find out that this
guy
is a vampire . . .’ She puffed out her cheeks. ‘You must feel that your entire universe has been turned on its head right now.’ She nodded her head again and smiled at him in a way that Trey assumed was a look of admiration. He held her eyes and tried to look braver than he really felt.

If only you knew, he thought.

His heart had taken up the fluttery arrhythmia that he had almost become accustomed to now, and the familiar feeling of dread began to creep its way through him again. He sat up on the bed and swung his legs over the side so that he faced her.

She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice: ‘You know, despite everything that you are probably thinking to the contrary, you have to believe him when he says that he has been looking out for your interests for a very long time and that he has things to tell you that are truly important for you to understand about yourself.’

‘He hasn’t really told me anything. Just that he knew my parents and that I’m in danger,’ Trey said. He gave up trying to sound tough and aloof, and his voice sounded high and fragile to his own ears.

‘You’re safe now that you are here with us. I think that Lucien’s just really unsure of how to begin telling you everything. He’s very worried about how you’ll react.’

Trey shook his head at this, a hot anger building up inside of him. How was it that these people presumed to know so much about him, and
why
were they not willing to simply tell him what was going on?

Before he could reply, there was a knock at the door. When it opened, Lucien’s face was revealed in the gap. ‘Ah, wonderful! You’re awake, Trey. And the two of you have met.’

‘Not really, Dad. Trey’s literally only just come round,’ the girl replied, smiling warmly at him.

‘Then allow me to make the introductions. Trey Laporte, this is my daughter, Alexa Charron. Alexa, this is Trey.’ He looked sheepishly over in Trey’s direction. ‘Tom has made some tea,’ he said, as if everything that had happened to Trey that day would be set right by the hot drink. ‘And there is food, if you feel up to eating something. I would recommend that you do – we don’t want you keeling over like that again.’ He looked at his daughter again and smiled. ‘Alexa, I’m sure that Trey would appreciate a quick tour of his new home before we sit down for dinner. Perhaps you’d be so kind as to show him around?’ He nodded in Trey’s direction and closed the door.

Trey looked at the closed door in disbelief. Clearly, revealing that you were a vampire did not rate highly on Lucien Charron’s list of things to freak you out. Sensing his mood, Alexa leaned forward and placed her hand on his arm.

‘Let go of me,’ Trey said, pulling free of Alexa. He tried to get to his feet and almost fell over again as the blood rushed to his head. Regaining his balance, he looked about him frantically, wondering what he was going to do.

‘Take it easy, Trey. You passed out. My father carried you into your room – sorry, the room that will be yours, if you choose to stay here with us – so that you could lie down.’

His head spun as his brain raced through scenarios and possible outcomes of the situation he now found himself in. He had willingly
allowed
himself to be brought here to this place, despite a growing feeling that something was very wrong about the whole thing. The man called Lucien had freely admitted to him that he was a vampire, and now it seemed that he had been drugged and brought here to this room while the vampire’s daughter sat guard over him to ensure he could not escape.

What have I done? How could I have been so stupid? I’m going to die, and I led myself into this like some lamb to the slaughter.

He needed to get out of here. Get away from this apartment and let the authorities know what was going on here. The moment he considered this, he realized how stupid an idea it was. What would he tell the police? That there was a vampire living in this apartment in Docklands? OK, he didn’t have fangs, or claws, or wear a cloak and walk around saying, ‘I vant to suck your blut.’ But he was a vampire nevertheless. He could almost hear the police laughing him out of the station.

‘Do you want to just sit down and talk about things?’ Alexa said from the chair. She watched as he began to rifle through the drawer of a small cabinet that stood in a corner of the room. ‘What are you looking for, Trey?’ Alexa asked.

‘Something to protect myself with. A knife, scissors, anything,’ he mumbled to himself. He shook his head in desperation at the neatly folded stacks of bedclothes and towels that were housed in the drawers. There was nothing even remotely like a weapon in sight.

‘Are you sure that you’ve really thought this through? Exactly what is that you are so worried about?’ Her calm, unflustered tone sounded completely at odds with his own feelings as his thoughts and emotions scrambled over each other in an effort to try to make sense of things.

He ignored her, and his eyes fell upon a small, silver-handled letter opener on top of the bureau. He picked it up and hefted it in his hand. He tried to imagine standing in front of Lucien or Tom, brandishing this small, effete tool in their faces as a warning. A small whimper escaped him as the hopelessness of his situation dawned on him.

‘Trey,’ Alexa said, ‘why are you freaking out?’

He stopped for a moment and turned to her with a look of utter disbelief. ‘Are you insane?’ he said. ‘Your dad is going to
eat
me! That’s why I’m
freaking out
!’

‘Think about it,’ Alexa said, getting up and taking a step towards him. ‘If my father had wanted to harm you in any way – which is quite the opposite of his intentions – couldn’t he quite easily have done so at any point without bringing you back here to our house to do so?’

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