Scott Mariani - Uprising

‘You don’t have to look so sour.’ You old cow, she wanted to add. She kept it back, but it must have shown in her eyes, because the disapproving look on her mother’s face deepened a couple of tints.

‘The police called here earlier about your boyfriend.’

‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ Kate protested.

‘That’ll be why your neck is covered in lovebites. Little tart.’

Kate put her fingers to her neck and winced. Did Dec do that? ‘What about the police?’ she murmured.

‘He crashed his car last night. Drunk, no doubt.’

Kate tried to sit up in bed, and the ache thudded through her head. ‘What? Is he all right?’

‘He’ll survive. That’s what cockroaches do, isn’t it? Why couldn’t you go out with Giles Huntley?’

‘I hate Giles Huntley. He’s a creep and he has bad breath.’

‘At least he has a good education and a future ahead of him when he goes to Cambridge. He’s not going to spend his life poking around in filthy grease under a car bonnet. Have you seen the state of Declan Maddon’s fingernails?’

Please make her shut up, Kate thought. The pain felt like a blunt chisel blade being hammered into her skull and then twisted from side to side. Her vision was exploding with it.

And still her mother went on. ‘You know what’s going to happen if you keep this up, my girl, don’t you? Pregnant. That’s what happened to Chardonnay Watson, isn’t it?

Going around with lowlifes. Next thing, a bun in the oven. What a disaster. Mind you, with a name like Chardonnay it was to be expected and it’s probably all she was good for anyway…’

Kate watched her mother ranting on. The words faded out in her ears. For a brief instant she felt a rush of emotions surging up inside her, momentarily blanking out the pain in her head. Feelings she’d never had before, and a sense of power that was almost overwhelming.

Before she knew what was happening, she had her mother by the throat.

Shaking her like a terrier with a rat. Screaming, ‘Shut your fucking mouth!’ Her mother’s tongue hanging out, her face turning blue as she throttled the life out of her.

But then she was back on her bed and her mother was still standing there, going on at her.

What was happening? Was she going crazy?

‘—should have done a long time ago. St Hildegard’s will be a far better environment for a young lady. You’ll make proper friends, with the right type of people.’

‘Boarding school?’ Kate burst out.

‘Didn’t you hear a word I said? Starting after the Christmas holidays. And in the meantime, you won’t be going anywhere near that family of pikeys next door, I can tell you.’

Kate buried her face in the pillow as her mother went on and on. The migraine was making her want to cry, and she felt sick to her stomach. And weak, so terribly weak, as though the energy had just been sucked out of her.

But somehow, deep inside, she knew something was different about her.

Something had happened. Everything felt somehow sharper. More defined. Smells, colours, the floral pattern on the wallpaper her mother had insisted on for the bedroom.

Kate knew she had changed. How and why, she didn’t yet know.

But for some reason she couldn’t understand…

She wasn’t afraid.

The Ritz Hotel, London

Alex walked into the grand entrance lobby and crossed the red carpet to the desk, with Greg trailing along behind her.

‘We’ve come to see Mr Burnett in the Trafalgar Suite. He’s expecting us.’

Two minutes later Alex rapped on the door of the suite. It opened and a woman in her late fifties, with a thin face and short hair, stood in the doorway giving them an icy stare.

‘Where’s Baxter?’ Alex said.

‘He’s busy at the moment. I’m his agent. You can talk to me.’

Alex’s nose twitched at the woman’s human scent.

‘I don’t think so. Out of the way.’ She shouldered past her and through the door.

Greg followed, looking around him in awe at the decor. The agent tried to squeeze in after them; Alex shoved her hard out into the corridor and slammed the door in her face.

Baxter Burnett wasn’t that busy. He was settled back confidently on a plush sofa in the suite’s living room, his feet up on a table and his arms behind his head. He looked like he’d been working on his tan, and his hair was immaculately groomed. The sleeves of his white shirt were turned up just enough to show off the toned muscles of his forearms and the chunky gold watch on his wrist. He smiled a glittering Hollywood smile as Alex and Greg walked into the suite.

‘You certainly have a way with people, Miss—?’

‘Special Agent Alex Bishop. What we have to discuss with you isn’t for human ears.’

Baxter just kept on grinning his million-dollar grin. Alex motioned to Greg. ‘This is my colleague, Agent Shriver.’

‘Have a seat,’ Baxter said graciously. He turned and snapped his fingers.

‘Charlie!’ A heavyset assistant came out of the next room. His unsmiling gaze landed on the two VIA agents.

‘Charlie, get this lovely young lady and her friend a drink,’ Baxter said. Charlie stared a second longer, then went away.

‘It’s okay,’ Baxter said easily. ‘Charlie’s one of us.’

‘I can see that,’ Alex said. She and Greg sat on armchairs facing Baxter, and a few seconds later Charlie returned carrying a tray with three cut-crystal tumblers brimming with red liquid. He laid it down on a coffee table before leaving the room.

Alex took a glass and sipped it. Greg sniffed uncertainly at his, pulled a face and set it back down on the coffee table.

Baxter was giving Alex admiring looks. ‘Anyone ever tell you, Agent Bishop, you have beautiful eyes?’

‘Plenty of times. Let’s get down to business. Your first big movie break was Down and Dirty, am I right?’

Baxter smiled. ‘That was a good movie. You a film fan, Agent Bishop?’

‘As a matter of fact, I am.’

‘But you didn’t come here to talk movies, I imagine.’ Baxter looked at his watch, like saying he was a busy man and didn’t have all day.

‘Of course we did,’ Alex said. ‘We take a great interest in your work. But here’s the problem. We couldn’t help but notice, Baxter — Down and Dirty was twelve years ago.’

‘Yeah, so?’

‘Our sources tell us that a week ago, you read for the part of Jake Gyllenhaal’s younger brother in the new Universal production, Firestorm. Is that true?’

Baxter reddened slightly. ‘Sure it’s true. It’s a great role for me. What’s the big deal?’

‘Baxter, you’re so fucking stupid,’ Alex said. ‘Don’t you think people will think it’s a bit peculiar, you never ageing? You think you can go on playing thirty-year-old guys for evermore?’

Baxter’s composure was slipping fast. ‘So I have boyish good looks. So did Mickey Rooney. So does DiCaprio. I work out. What the fuck is it VIA’s fucking business what I do, anyway?’ He stood up, spilling his drink over himself; a red arc across white cotton. ‘This is what you assholes came here for, to hassle me about the roles I take?

Get the fuck out of here. Charlie! Show these two dipshits the door!’

Alex leapt to her feet. She was on him in two steps, grabbing him by the throat and throwing him violently back down on the sofa. Her hand snaked inside her coat and came out with the stainless steel.44 Smith & Wesson revolver. She shoved the three-inch barrel of the magnum point blank in his face.

‘What ya gonna do, shoot me?’ Baxter snorted. ‘You can’t hurt me with that thing.’

‘Let me tell you something, Baxter. I am a senior special agent of Vampire Intelligence. That means I’m authorised to use Nosferol-tipped bullets. I have six of them right here. You do know what Nosferol is, don’t you?’