The Vampire and the Scorpion (Blood and Venom Saga #1)

7. Seven

Seven

L atisha linked her arm through mine, pulling me into her side in a manner that reminded me of Hayley. “That’s my camper,” she said, pointing out the motorhome from which Hetti had retrieved the remedies for my feet and back pain. “The next two are Luna’s and Aurora’s. Supernaturals share a home with their familiar and neighbour with their own kind. Beside us, are the shifters.”

As if on cue, a door flew open and two men stepped out, voices raised in a heated conversation.

“Why did you come in here?” the older man snapped in a scouse accent. He was slight of build with a worn, lined face. His thinning, brown hair was sticking up on end, like he’d been tugging at it.

“I wanted to see Cuddles,” the younger grumbled. Though tall and well-built, with a broad chest and thick biceps, he cowered beneath the glare of the older man. He, too, had an accent—Scottish this time—and wild, bright-orange hair.

“Ask next time, but for now, clean up your mess.” The Scouser thrust a torch into the Scotsman’s hands. “You’d better find it before it finds you.”

Latisha stepped forward. “Hello boys! I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

Both men eyed the witch, then me, frowning.

“Y’alright,” the Scouser said, looking as though he was about to retreat into his camper, but Latisha seized him by the upper arm and dragged him towards me.

“This is Trevor,” she said. “He is a shifter and their representative. Trevor, this is Ava.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking his rough, calloused hand. “Um... so who is my representative?”

“Dominic is rep for the vampires,” Latisha said.

Trevor made a noise in the back of his throat. “Ugh, do not talk about that little gobshite around me. Don’t mean to be rude, Tish, but me and Billy have shit we gotta do.”

“We’ve got an escaped scorpion.” Billy waggled the torch. “Pretty venomous one too—”

“The most venomous! And soft lad here, let it escape.”

“I didn’t!” Billy’s voice rose a few octaves in indignation. “You’re just looking for someone to pin the blame on!”

“Is Cuddles the name of the scorpion?” I asked, suppressing a laugh.

“Naw,” said Billy, grinning. “Cuddles is my spider. I can show you if you like?”

“Uhhh...” My mouth went dry. Spiders had too many legs for my liking, but I wanted to make a good impression. “Go on then.”

“Wait!” Trevor shouted, “Don’t open the—” But it was too late. No sooner had Billy turned the handle, the door to the camper burst open, and a huge, black mass came bounding out, racing towards me. Before I could gasp, its paws were on my chest, leaning on me with such a weight I almost fell over.

“Look at you!” I said as a long, wet tongue lapped at my face. “You daft dog!” I rubbed the sides of the dog’s head, who panted at me, tongue now lolling out the side of its mouth. I noted its black and copper fur. “A rottweiler?”

“Yeah,” Trevor said, his once haughty expression relaxing as his eyes shone with warmth. “This is Layla.” He whistled, and Layla dropped, lolloping towards him, jumping with excitement. “She’s my bonded animal.”

“Your what?”

“My bonded animal,” he repeated, glancing at Latisha. “You’ve not told her about bonding, Tish?”

Latisha raised a shoulder. “I thought she should see it first-hand.”

“Fine, but I’m not doing a full transformation. Not in this cold weather. Are you ready, Ava?”

Trevor’s eyes widened into large, black orbs, identical to Layla’s. Then his nose and mouth elongated into her muzzle, the same long, pink tongue drooping out the side of his mouth as black and copper fur sprouted over his face. It was one of the most bizarre things I’d ever seen: Layla’s head perched upon Trevor’s body, all the while the real Layla stood at his side, occasionally nudging him with her wet, black nose. Trevor shook himself, and before I could blink, his tired face was looking back at me.

“That’s bloody amazing...” I said in awe, though it didn’t do what I’d witnessed any justice.

Trevor stroked Layla’s head, puffing out his chest.

“So, shifters become the animal they’ve bonded with? Is that it?” I asked.

“Exactly. Beginners can only take the full form of their animal,” Trevor explained. “With time, they learn to shift into a hybrid. Part animal, part human, like I did just now.”

“Or, like this!” Billy grinned as his eyes split into eight black, beady spheres. His mouth became something else entirely, snapping fang-tipped jaws oozing a clear goo.

“That’s disgusting! Change back!”

Billy tilted his head back, roaring with laughter as his usual features reappeared. Even Trevor hid a dry, wheezing chuckle behind his hand.

“That’s not the introduction to Cuddles I had in mind,” I said, pouting with mock annoyance, though couldn’t keep up the act. Billy’s smile was too infectious. “How do you bond with an animal? Can I do it? I’d love to shapeshift. Maybe a bird, so I could fly.”

I could just picture myself soaring through Kinwich like an angel. Total freedom...

Latisha scrunched the hair at the back of her head, thinking. “I wouldn’t advise it. It involves a ritual, performed by a witch—”

“Or warlock,” Trevor added.

“Or warlock—a male witch,” Latisha said. “But that’s why some shifters become witches’ familiars. They stay with the witch, learn their craft, and become a witch themselves one day. Or they go it alone. Perhaps find a shifter master to serve while they develop their powers, like Billy did. Though you have a familiar of your own now, don’t you, Billy?”

“Aye.” Billy put his hands on his hips, thrusting his muscular chest out, head held high.

“And yet,” Trevor said, “you’re still making amateur mistakes like letting the creatures out.”

“I didn’t!”

“Excuse me,” I interrupted, “but why would you remain a shifter when you could become a powerful witch? No offence, guys.”

“None taken,” Trevor said with a shrug. “Couple of reasons. One is that a shifter’s bonded animal lives as long as they do. But becoming a witch or warlock severs the bond with the animal.” His hand drifted to Layla’s ears, stroking one between his thumb and index finger. “The animal dies. And another thing: becoming a witch or warlock comes at a heavy price. But I’ll let Tish explain that one.”

“Cheers,” Latisha said in a dry voice. “Becoming a witch is...” She tilted her head upward, the stars reflecting in her huge, dark eyes, as she inhaled through gritted teeth, perhaps wondering just how much detail she wanted to divulge. “Well, it requires a contract with a demon. And they pop up regularly and demand more payment to renew it.”

“A demon? Like, from Hell?” I’d never have believed Hell existed a few days ago, but then again, I wouldn’t have believed vampires and witches were real either.

“Some sort of Hell-like dimension, at least. It comprises nine layers and is a place of eternal torment.”

“Nine layers, huh? Dante got that right, then.”

“Oh, do you know Dante?”

I blinked at her. “No, not personally. Do you know Dante?”

She shrugged. “How well can you really know someone? Especially after only a couple of meetings.”

My mouth fell open. “Latisha, how old exactly are you?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Perhaps over nine hundred? I don’t think I’ve reached a thousand yet. Anyway,” she said, ignoring my dumbstruck expression as I gaped at her, “as for payment, it depends on which demon the contract is with. They each have their own preferred methods. The demon I have a contract with is Lascivious.”

“Yeah, I bet he is,” I said with a snigger. Demons were bound to be sexual.

“Lascivious is his name .” Latisha folded her arms. “Though it does suit him.”

“And if you don’t renew the contract?”

“You lose your abilities.”

“Is that all?”

“Technically, yes. But bear in mind that a witch’s abilities keep them youthful. Without those abilities...” She shuddered. “I’ve only seen it happen once. A member of our coven didn’t pay. She morphed into a... I’m not sure what it was. A decaying creature, not quite animal, certainly not human. I’m still haunted by the sound of her bones cracking into unnatural shapes, blood and entrails pouring out of her. Withering away. Decomposing, but remaining conscious. Had she been able to form words, she’d have begged for death. I put her out of her misery myself.”

I was lost for words . And I thought my student loan contract was brutal...

“Demons still hound me for a contract,” Billy said with a grimace. “The more sinister demons leave me alone now—thank God—but Mischievous and Avaricious still try their luck. Perhaps in a century or two they’ll leave me in peace.”

Though I hated to admit it, Latisha was right. I shouldn’t get involved in this. “Ok, I get the picture. I won’t become a shifter. I draw the line at being stalked by demons.”

“Good choice,” Latisha said. “And just a reminder, Ava, it’s not the type of supernatural that makes you powerful, but the individual themselves. Shifters have achieved equality in the last hundred years and have got their own factions within covens, but some are still prejudiced, thinking them the weakest among us.”

“Like Ivan...” Billy said, so quietly that his lips barely moved.

“Alright, alright,” Trevor snapped. “Enough of the history lesson. Listen Tish, we really gotta find this scorpion. Come back later and I’ll introduce the newbie to the other shifters.”

“Good luck finding it, Billy,” I said, giving him a playful nudge.

“Don’t worry, I will.” Billy clicked the button on the torch on and off a couple of times, bathing his features in a purple hue. “Luckily, they glow in UV light, so it shouldn’t take long. But if you get a wee sting in the night”—he pinched my arm—“you’ll know I was unsuccessful.”

He grinned a wide, cheeky smile.

As I walked with Latisha to the next set of caravans, I heard Billy and Trevor resume their argument over which of them had lost the scorpion.

“Poor Billy,” Latisha said, smirking. “But he should have known better than to go snooping in Trevor’s camper. Then again, it’s Trevor who insists on keeping the bonded animals in there.”

“You mean he sleeps in there with scorpions and stuff?”

“Weird, right?” Latisha laughed. “I’d be alright with Layla, and the birds are pretty, but the creepie crawlies are gross. And the snake. ” She shuddered. “I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep if it were me.”

She stopped at the door of another motorhome and knocked.

A man with a thick, black beard answered the door, his glossy hair tied in a ponytail.

“Yes?” he asked in a deep, gruff voice, slotting his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie.

“Hi, Alfred. Are you busy?”

“Afraid so. I’ve got the pack with me. We’re having a meeting about our plans for our attractions. They need a lick of paint and a few upgrades, if you ask me.”

Standing on tiptoes, I peered over Alfred’s shoulder and into the camper. A group of men and women sat around a table. Though a couple looked in my direction, most were caught up in their discussion, jabbing their fingers at pieces of paper that littered the table. Their voices were raised in unmistakable enthusiasm rather than conflict; the opposite of meetings I’d grown accustom to.

“All work and no play, Alfred?”

“ Someone has to. I spoke to Ivan about having a relaunch and getting some new machines in, but he doesn’t give a toss anymore. What’s the point in posing as showmen if he won’t run the funfair properly? I mean...” Alfred lowered his voice, leaning close to Latisha, so that I could barely make out what he was saying. “We have got to keep up the appearance. Ivan doesn’t believe the rumours of the Hallows return. But perhaps he’s forgotten that some of us are hiding from our own kind, as well as humans. Appearance is everything.” Alfred narrowed his eyes at me, only now realising I was there. “Who’s this?”

“This is Ava. Len’s new familiar. Ava, this is Alfred, the werewolf rep.”

Alfred winced. “Is she actually Len’s? Or has Ivan palmed her off, like he did Austin? Sorry, Ava, if I do not get too attached. Humans don’t survive very long here. Good luck though.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said. “Very reassuring.”

He shrugged. “I say it as it is. Look out, Tish. You got company.” He pointed behind us.

Turning, we saw another figure approaching and this time I recognised them; it was the tangle-haired, leather-clad vampire that had assisted in Austin’s abduction.

“Jacob,” Latisha said through a clenched jaw, forcing a tight smile. Before I could say goodbye to Alfred, he’d closed the door to his camper.

“Latisha!” called Jacob. “Bring the girl to the campfire. Master Ivan wants to see her.” My stomach twisted as I watched him head into the grandest of all the motorhomes.

“Come on.” Latisha took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Time to meet our master.”

We headed back to the campfire where the witches were still sitting. As soon as we arrived, they rose to their feet, looking beyond us. Following their gaze, I saw Jacob exit the motorhome, accompanied by the other henchman who’d captured Austin, still dressed like he’d walked out of a photo-shoot. Next was Dominic, and my insides seemed to melt away as I caught his smirking expression. And finally, Madigan, along with a behemoth of a man towering above him and about twice his width.

“That’s Ivan,” Latisha said in a hushed voice as they approached, her lips barely moving. “Always address him as Master, or Master Ivan. Do not answer back. Be respectful. You don’t want to make him angry.”

My heart was hammering against my ribcage. Unsure what to do with my hands, I crossed my arms, but thinking that might give a poor impression, settled with holding them behind my back.

Ivan stepped into the glow of the campfire, his broad facial features illuminated for the first time. He had icy-blue eyes behind a pair of small, square-shaped spectacles. He dressed in a beige, striped suit, the buttons on his waistcoat straining to accommodate his immense frame. His thick lips split into a smile that did not reach his eyes as he flicked open a zippo lighter and began puffing on a fat cigar that was dwarfed by his sausage-like fingers.

“You must be Ava Monroe.” His voice was a deep rumble. “I’ve heard interesting things about you.”