Changeling (12 page)

Moving up to the two central doors, she gestured over her shoulder at the door to her rear. ‘Sauna and steam rooms are in there, but today,’ she said, pushing open the last of the doors, ‘we are in here.’

They walked through into a dim area that had a series of tiered seats arranged on either side of a short gangway. Directly in front were two glass-backed squash courts, and Trey noticed that the central wall separating the two courts was missing, doubling the floor space. He peered into the courts, trying to locate where the wall could have gone to, but seeing no obvious signs, assumed that it must be retractable, like the giant television upstairs.

The bright lights of the squash courts were on, the harsh illumination spilling out into the darkened observation area. In one corner of the court was a pile of what appeared to be thick gymnastic mats and tackle pads of the sort that you might use in rugby training. Apart from that, the courts were empty.

‘Ah, there you are,’ shouted Lucien from somewhere over Trey’s left shoulder. He turned to look up and could see Tom, Lucien and another man sitting high up in the raked seating towards the back of the room. As they stood and moved down towards them, Trey noticed that Lucien was wearing a tracksuit and couldn’t help but think how peculiar it looked on him.

‘This is Hopper.’ Lucian introduced the stranger to Trey, who shook his hand. ‘He’ll be helping out with our little session this afternoon.’

‘Nice to meet you, young man. A real, honest-to-God lycanthrope, eh? Has he told you you’re the last one? Yes? Well, not exactly the last werewolf, but the last
natural
. You’re unique, you know, yes, unique. It’s an honour to shake your hand, it is.’ Hopper never kept still the whole time he was talking. There was something unnerving about the way he kept nodding at Trey, his piggy little eyes blinking repeatedly as if they had an irritating dust in them that he was trying to blink out. Trey had no idea why, but he took an instant dislike to the little man.

‘Never met a natural before,’ he continued. ‘Met loads of those bloody idiots that wander around drinking from the footprints of wolves and uttering ancient incantations; they all go bleedin’ nuts eventually and end up killing a boatload of people. But never a natural – no, never. In case you were wondering, I’m a sputum djinn.’

‘Oh, for the love of God,’ Tom said, turning away in desperation.

‘A what?’ Trey asked.

‘Green, ain’t he, this one? Green as the hills of Nongroth,’ Hopper said, the blink rate cranking up to an alarming level. ‘A sputum djinn. Technically the proper nomenclature would have me described as a level-two Orn djinn with spitting-attack/defence capabilities. But everyone just refers to us as sputum djinn – more “catchy”, I suppose. Allow me to demonstrate.’

He took a small step back and smiled, revealing two rows of brown, poorly kept teeth. Then he turned to face the transparent wall at the back of the court and spat.

As soon as the discharge left his mouth it seemed to coalesce and grow rapidly into a spherical mass, so that when it hit the wall where it stuck there was a football-sized globule of jelly-like goo. ‘There,’ he said, nodding his head towards it. ‘Now touch it with your fingers.’

‘No, thanks,’ replied Trey, his lip curling in distaste. He couldn’t think of anything in the world that he would less like to do.

‘Go on,’ implored the little man. ‘It’s not really
spit
as such. It’s just this
stuff
that we sputum djinn are able to produce at will. Go on, it won’t hurt.’ He nudged Trey hard with his elbow towards the wall.

Trey looked at Lucien, who was trying hard not to laugh at the horrified look on the boy’s face.

‘You might as well,’ he said, nodding encouragingly. ‘He won’t let up until you do.’

Trey gingerly reached out with his fingers and touched the gently quivering ball of gunk.

As soon as his fingers came into contact with the substance he felt them jerk and sink deeper inside as if the gelatinous goo were grabbing them. Trey flinched and tried to pull his fingers free, but in doing so his hand seemed to get sucked further inside until his entire fist was engulfed up to the wrist. As soon as he stopped pulling, the substance seemed to relax slightly in response, but his hand was still trapped.

He looked round anxiously at the four people behind him, who were watching his struggles with amusement. Hopper was dancing around on the spot and Trey couldn’t help but think that he looked like Rumpelstiltskin.

‘Let him out now, Hopper,’ Tom said firmly, noticing the growing distress on Trey’s face.

‘Can’t get out, can you?’ Hopper said in a high, excited voice.

‘Can’t escape it, no matter what you do!’ He let out a little laugh and pointed to the boy’s hand.

‘I said let him out, you pus-filled son of a garnog. You’ve had your fun.’ Tom pushed Hopper forward towards Trey.

Trey had no idea what a garnog was, but the look on Hopper’s face suggested that he was far from pleased at having a parent called one. The demon reached up and, placed his hand on Trey’s shoulder and, as he did so, Trey’s hand simply slid out. It was as if at the creature’s touch the substance simply ceased to be sticky any longer.

Trey looked down at his fingers and was surprised to see that they were completely dry and that no hint of the substance was evident. He tentatively sniffed them to find that they were also odourless.

Lucien stepped forward. ‘Hopper is here to provide a little insurance this afternoon should anything start to go wrong. He is incredibly accurate and has sufficient range to render anything . . . or anyone, temporarily immobile within the confines of the space that we will be using. In addition, Tom will be on hand with this rather fearsome-looking weapon.’ Lucien held up a bizarrely shaped rifle and handed it over to his assistant. From the back it appeared like any other rifle that Trey had seen in movies, with a wooden stock just behind the trigger mechanism. But at the front of the gun – the business end – the barrel diameter was huge, as if someone had pumped it up with a foot pump.

‘It’s a non-lethal weapon and is used for firing a metal-link net to entrap animals and people. It’s quite a new technology, so Hopper is our back-up.’

Hopper sniffed and looked at the contraption in Tom’s hands. ‘Reckon that that thing’s got disaster written all over it. Better off sticking to a tried and trusted method, like old Hopper.’

‘Be that as it may,’ Tom retorted, ‘in this instance, it doesn’t pay to be too careful. A man with boots doesn’t have to worry about where to put his feet.’

‘All I’m saying is that we sputum djinn have . . .’

‘Will you shut yer bloody piehole, Hopper? Or I’ll be going to get a real gun and then we’ll see just how fast and accurate you are!’

Trey looked over to Alexa, who was smiling and shaking her head at the bickering that was still going on as the two men stepped through the door at the back of the court. He turned back to Lucien and asked, ‘So what are we doing?’

‘You and I are going in there together,’ he said, leaning down to pick up a long, fibreglass pole from beside the door. He slipped his hand through a leather strap that hung down from one end, allowing the whole thing to dangle from his wrist. Lucien went on. ‘Then you are going to purposely transform into a werewolf. Then you and I, Mr Laporte, are going to have a little duel, a sparring session, if you will.’

A small laugh escaped Trey’s mouth. He looked closely into Lucien’s face, his smile fading into a frown.

‘You’re . . . you’re serious, aren’t you?’

‘Of course,’ Lucien said, stepping closer to him and continuing. ‘Trey, I understand that your entire universe has been pulled inside out right now, but you must learn to come to terms with what you are and, more importantly, to harness the powers that you have inherited.’

He stepped back a little and surveyed Trey. ‘Are you going to wear those clothes or did you want to get changed?’

‘Do I need to? Or will these do?’

‘No, they’re fine. I just wondered how much you liked them, that’s all.’

‘Why?’

‘Oh, no reason,’ Lucien replied, and turned to go through the door.

‘Are you two coming or what?’ shouted Tom from inside, where he had taken up position in one of the corners behind a pile of mats, his gun sticking out from between a gap. ‘Because if you leave me in here much longer with this whinging, phlegm-flinging fool, you’ll be picking up little pieces of him for the next few weeks!’

Lucien stopped in the doorway and turned to Trey, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

‘Well, are you coming to see just what you are made of, Trey?’ he asked.

Trey almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of the situation, but when he looked closely at the vampire standing in front of him, he could see no hint of humour in his eyes. Shaking his head, he followed the vampire through the door to begin his first training session.

Lucien stood in front of him, the baton-like implement that he had picked up still hanging from one hand by the wrist strap. He smiled gently at Trey and flicked his eyes about the room, ensuring that everything was in place.

‘This will be an experience for both of us, Trey’ Lucian’s voice rebounded back off the concrete walls like the squash balls that they were designed for. Trey thought that he detected a hint of nervousness in it, something that made him feel all the more scared about whatever lay ahead.

‘The aim of the exercise is first to get you to fully morph into a werewolf. Your amulet will help ensure that you maintain your human thoughts and intellect while experiencing the full range of lycanthrope powers. But you will need to control the wolf inside you. I will endeavour to give you a helping hand in achieving the transformation for the first time, after which it should become much easier to bring it about yourself at will.

‘Once you have transformed, we will fight. I want you to get an idea of what it feels like to come up against another nether-creature, and I can’t think of a better one for you to cut your teeth on – please excuse that most unfortunate metaphor – than a vampire.’

Lucien stopped then, his body posture suddenly becoming threatening and aggressive as he crouched slightly. There was a look in his eye that Trey didn’t much like.

‘Any questions?’ Lucien asked, slowly moving to his right and starting to circle the teenager.

‘Lucien, do we really have to do this? Isn’t there some other way?’

‘Now, it is crucial that you try to maintain control at all times during the next hour or so.’ Lucien continued, as if he had not heard him. ‘We will inevitably hurt each other during our sessions, and unlike the wounds that may be inflicted on us by humans – which will heal almost instantaneously – the wounds that nether-creatures inflict on each other are slow to heal. Should you lose control and attack me with the full force of tooth and claw you could maim or even kill me. Do you understand, Trey?’

Lucien nodded towards the two corners that Tom and Hopper occupied. ‘That is the reason that they are here. They are my insurance against you losing control.’

‘What’s my insurance against
you
losing control?’ Trey asked.

‘On that you will just have to place your trust in me again. Ready?’

‘Lucien, I don’t want to do this,’ Trey said.

‘I know. If there was a better way, I would choose it. I expected this reaction, Trey. That’s why I brought this.’ Lucien’s eyes took on a cold, hard appearance and he curled his fingers around the handle of the baton in his hand, but instead of raising it up over his head to strike the boy, he slowly extended his arm and pushed the end of it against Trey’s chest.

The high-voltage, low-current shock from the cattle prod felt like a firebomb exploding inside Trey’s chest. A tsunami of pain slammed through every molecule in his body, causing him to scream and stagger backwards, falling to the hard floor. He couldn’t get his lungs to work properly. The air that had been forced from his body with the violence of the shock would not return – panic started to grip Trey, until finally, after what seemed an age, his throat opened and he was able to suck in a ragged breath of air.

‘Hurt, did it?’ Lucien was behind him now, leaning over him, an evil sneer turning his face into a halloween mask. His eyes blazed fiercely and he started to walk slowly towards Trey again. Trey looked over his shoulder and, for the first time since they met, saw beyond the calm, polished exterior that Lucien portrayed to the world, catching a glimpse of the nether-creature beneath. The vampire’s face suddenly seemed incapable of pity and Trey was extremely glad that Lucien had chosen to have his fangs and claws removed all those years ago.

‘Lucien . . .’ Trey stammered at the advancing figure.

‘You’d better get changing, Trey, because this thing’s nearly fully charged again, and if you haven’t changed by the time it’s ready, I’m going to stick it in you again.’

‘My God, Lucien, what on earth do you think—’

‘Too late, it’s green-light-Go time!’ Lucien jabbed the tips of the metal electrodes between the boy’s shoulder blades.

Trey rolled across the floor in agony, the scream that escaped him sounding like a fox being torn apart by the hunting hounds. He rolled to a stop against Lucien’s legs. Despite the curtains of pain that enveloped him, Trey couldn’t understand how the vampire had got across the room so quickly to where he was now. The vampire moved with impossible speed.

He drew himself into a fetal ball and screamed at Lucien to stop.

Lucien lowered himself on to his haunches, looking down at the weapon in his hands. When he spoke again, his voice dripped poison. ‘I haven’t tried this out on myself. I take it that it doesn’t get any easier after the first one, then? You know, if you could just transform, all this could end. How about it?’

He paused for a second. ‘No? Shame, really, because this baby’s nearly ready to go again. Ready for another, Trey?’ He lowered the cattle prod towards the boy, the twin metal tips at the end of the pole ready to discharge their full force again.

‘NO!’ Trey roared, throwing himself away from his torturer and scrambling to his feet. A million supernovas exploded as tight, knotted balls of energy drew together and then detonated within him. It was a mixture of the most exquisite pain and the hugest adrenalin rush that he’d ever felt and it consumed him utterly. His body was rigid and stiff as every muscle in it locked, and he felt an uncomfortable
pulling
sensation deep inside his bones as they thickened and elongated. Muscle hypertrophied, the myofibrils within them multiplying exponentially, and he sensed the power that suddenly existed in his body. Thick, coarse hair erupted, covering his body from head to toe, and huge claws and fangs burst forth from his fingers and mouth.