Dead Water (6 page)

Kiera
took it, heading up a short set of concrete steps which led to the
door. She opened it, switched on the light, then stepped
inside.

“
See you later, alligator,” I said.

Kiera
closed the door without saying anything. Perhaps she hadn’t heard
me, I thought.

“
See you later, alligator?” Murphy grunted. “What’s that
s’posed to mean?”

“
Forget it,” I said, heading up the short set of steps to our
mobile home.

Murphy
followed, slipped the key into the lock, and pushed open the door.
He flicked on the light, closing the door behind us. The mobile
home was long and narrow. There was a sofa running down the length
of the far wall, and I guessed it opened out to form a bed. There
was a small T.V. set mounted on the wall with an iron bracket. On
the other side of the room was a kitchenette with a cooker and
fridge. To the right of Murphy, were two narrow doors set into a
dividing wall. Murphy pushed one of them open.

“
That’s the crapper,” he said. He peered behind the second door
and added, “The bedroom.”

“
I’ll take the sofa,” I said crossing the room and flopping
down onto it. The cushions were soft and spongy. I lay back, placed
my fingers behind my head, and crossed my feet at the
ankles.

“
What’s got into you?” Murphy mumbled. “You’re about as much
fun as the plague.”

“
You told that guy I had issues,” I scowled.

“
You do,” Murphy said, turning on the hot tap over the sink. A
stream of steaming water tumbled out. “The hot water’s on so at
least we can shower.”

“
You think it’s all just a big laugh, don’t you?” I said,
looking at Murphy.

“
What’s that?” he said, turning off the tap and taking his pipe
from his pocket.

“
Me and Kiera,” I told him. “It’s not funny.”

Sighing,
Murphy sat at the end of the sofa and looked at me. “Okay, so I’ve
been taking the piss a bit...” he started.

“
A bit!” I scoffed. “You’ve been rubbing my nose in it all day.
I’m just looking for a bit of advice here.”

“
I’m not your father,” he said, holding a match over the bowl
of his pipe.

“
But I thought you were my friend,” I said.

Blowing
thick jets of blue smoke through his nostrils, Murphy looked at me
and said, “Only you can sort this thing out with Kiera. No one can
do it for you.”

“
I’ve tried,” I told him.

“
How?” Murphy said, his pipe drooping from the corner of his
mouth. “Telling Kiera her butt looks nice in police uniform ain’t
going to get you anywhere. She isn’t some old tart you’re trying to
get your leg over with. I thought she meant more to you than
that.”

“
She does,” I said, swinging my legs over the side of the sofa
and sitting up.

“
Then tell her,” Murphy sighed with despair.

“
I don’t know how, that’s my problem,” I said, dropping my
head. “I’ve never been very good with words.”

“
Who’s talking about words,” Murphy said. “You need to show
her, Potter.”

“
What you mean? I should go over there and...” I
started.

“
No, for crying out loud, “Murphy interrupted. “Stop thinking
with your goddamn dick for once!”

“
How then?” I said, feeling confused.

“
How about if you stopped jerking around with all those other
women?” Murphy barked at me. “That would show her how much you
loved her, for starters.”

“
But nothing happened,” I shot back at him. “I went in search
of Sophie because I wanted to figure out what in the hell was going
on in this new world we found ourselves in.”

“
You just don’t get it, do you?” Murphy said, shaking his head
slowly at me.

“
Get what?” I said, exasperated.

“
Why didn’t you take Kiera with you? Why didn’t you go with her
and find out what was going on in this place? You’re meant to be a
team, aren’t you? You’re meant to be together. How do you think
Kiera feels knowing that instead of trusting her to help out, you
went running back to some old tart who gave you the boot years
ago?”

“
But...” I started, but Murphy was on a roll and wouldn’t let
me finish.

“
The first time I met you, Potter, you were in the gutter,” he
said. “And it was that girl Sophie who put you there. She crushed
your fucking heart without as much as a second thought. She treated
you like a piece of dog shit. Once she realised what you were, she
scraped you from the sole of her fucking boot. You meant nothing to
her. She didn’t respond to any of the letters you sent her, she
didn’t come looking for you – she did jack-shit!” Murphy stood up,
his pipe gripped in his fist. Then pointing through the window in
the direction of where Kiera’s caravan was, he said, “Kiera’s twice
the woman than that Sophie ever was. You didn’t see Kiera go
running for the hills when she found out you were a Vampyrus. She
did the exact opposite. Kiera came to you, helped you...loved you,
and how have you repaid her? Huh? Fucked off back to your ex –
that’s how. And if that wasn’t bad enough – the cherry on top of
the cake – you then go and try to get your leg over with a freaking
werewolf!”

“
I didn’t realise...” I started, no longer angry but scrambling
for excuses.

“
Whatever, Potter,” Murphy snapped. “But one thing is for sure,
if you want to get Kiera back, you need to man-up. Stop sitting
there feeling sorry for yourself. Grow a fucking backbone and show
that girl how much she means to you.”

“
But...” I started again.

“
No buts, Potter!” he barked, jabbing his forefinger in the
air. “The best thing that has ever happened to you is sitting alone
just over there, and you’re in here sulking like some fucking
pre-teen.” Then, looking hard at me with his crisp blue eyes, he
added, “Women like Kiera come into the lives of men like us only
once in a lifetime, Potter. If someone as special as Kiera loved me
like I know how much she loves you, I wouldn’t be sitting in here
feeling sorry for myself. I’d be over there in her room on my hands
and knees, begging for her fucking forgiveness.”

I sat
looking at Murphy and felt as if I’d had a verbal kick-in. I didn’t
know what to say. What could I say? Murphy was right.

“
Don’t throw away what you have with Kiera, Potter,” he said,
his voice now calmer. “Because if you do, you’ll regret it for the
rest of your sorry life. She is a good woman – she’s precious. I
wish I’d had with Pen, what you have with Kiera. You’re a lucky
man, Potter, but your problem is, you just don’t see
that.”

Without
saying another word, Murphy stepped inside the bedroom and closed
the door.

Alone, I sat feeling almost stunned by what he had said. And
only a true friend would have said what he had. Despite his
piss-taking ways, I was not only lucky to have someone like Kiera
in my life, I was lucky to have a friend like Murphy. Lying back on
the sofa, I closed my eyes. I knew the situation I was now in with
Kiera was of my own making. I’d been an idiot – a complete and
utter nob-head. Murphy had been right; my loyalty to Sophie had
been misplaced, she had never loved me like Kiera had. No one had
ever come close to showing me the love I’d felt come from Kiera. It
should have been Kiera I’d gone to for help – not Sophie. Kiera and
I had been a team.
Had
. That word spoke of the past and it scared me. Would Kiera
and I ever be a team again? I wondered, rolling onto my
side.

Something dug into my thigh. I reached into my trouser pocket
and my fingers touched something made of metal and glass. I pulled
it out. I lay and stared at the iPod with the crescent moon on the
back. I remembered taking it from the blazer pocket of Dorsey, who
had died in my arms back in the barn. I suddenly had an idea. I
hoped it would work.

Chapter Nine

Kiera

The
caravan Murphy had duped the campsite owner into letting me use for
the night was comfortable. There was a tiny electric heater
attached to the wall and I switched it on. I peeled off the police
coat, shirt, and trousers. They were damp from the snow. There was
a chair, so I pulled it across the small room and draped my clothes
over the back of it. I then positioned the chair in front of the
fire to dry my clothes out. Naked, I went to the small bathroom.
There was a toilet and shower in the closet-sized room. Good
enough. I just wanted to feel clean again. I ran the water until
steam was pouring from the showerhead and had covered the mirror
fixed to the wall. There was a small complimentary bottle of shower
gel and shampoo sitting in a soap dish attached to the shower
wall.

I stood
under the water and let it wash over my body. My skin tingled and
my long, black hair clung to the sides of my face, shoulders, and
back. Squeezing some of the shower gel into my hand, I looked for
the first signs of those cracks again, but there weren’t any. I
guessed the blood from the wolves I had killed would still be
working for me, but for how long, I didn’t know. I hoped long
enough for me to reach the Dead Waters.

With my
fingertips, I worked the shampoo into my hair, and it smelt fresh
and wonderful – a million miles away from the musty smell of the
room where Jack had held me prisoner. I washed the dried werewolf
blood from my arms, hands, and from in between my fingers. I just
wanted to be rid of it. I turned off the water and stepped from the
shower cubicle, grabbing a towel from a rail fixed to the wall.
Wrapping it around me, I wiped the steam from the mirror and stared
at my reflection. I looked into the eyes that stared back at me,
and I somehow felt as if I were looking into the soul of a
stranger. Those fine streaks of hazel around the edges of my pupils
flashed orange like the rays of a hot sun. I opened my mouth and
let my fangs protrude from my gums. Then, slowly I raised my hands
and released my long, black claws. Rolling back my shoulders, I let
the towel drop to the floor. Standing naked before the mirror, my
wings sprang from my back like two giant sails unfurling. There was
little room for them in the small bathroom, and they pressed flat
against the shower cubicle behind me. The claws at each tip opened
and closed slowly, as if grabbing hold of air. I looked at myself,
knowing that this was only the second occasion I had ever taken the
time to truly study myself – get to know what I truly was. My skin
was paper white in utter contrast to my long, black wings and
claws. In my half-breed form, my hair was more navy blue than
black.

Even
before I’d truly had a chance to come to terms with the realisation
that I was only half human, I had suddenly learnt I wasn’t half
human at all. I was a half and half – half Vampyrus and half wolf.
What did that make me? A freak – that’s what it made me. I was an
abomination! I was born of a forbidden act. I was the result of a
forbidden love affair between something close to a bat and a wolf.
The Elders were right – such a creature like me shouldn’t be alive.
Nature knew it, too – that’s why others like me – including
Murphy’s daughters – had withered away, left to cling to life in
some makeshift hospital hidden in the attic at Hallowed
Manor.

Somehow the Dead Waters had saved me. They had brought me back
to life. But why? What was the purpose? Was it so I could be
tormented? Made to suffer? Or was there another reason? The Elders
had said I’d been chosen to choose between the humans and the
Vampyrus – only one race could survive. But there was a third race
– the
Lycanthrope
.
Even if I had chosen between the humans and the Vampyrus, there
would have still been two races left – the second being the
Lycanthrope. What about them? Did the Elders have any idea what I
truly was? Or had Murphy covered his tracks so well, that they
still believed me to be a half-breed? I doubted they knew my true
heritage. If they did, I’d be dead already, and so would Murphy. I
looked at myself once more, then making a fist with my hand, I
smashed it into the mirror. The glass fractured, distorting my face
into a million different pieces. Blood trickled from between my
knuckles and I licked them clean.

I
stepped away from the mirror. With my wings trailing behind me, I
walked into what was the living room of the caravan. My clothes
were still drying by the electric heater. I stood in the centre of
the poky room and let my wings open on either side of me. In a
strange way, I felt a certain kind of freedom being naked and in my
true form. It was like I was no longer hiding what I truly was
behind clothes, secrets, and lies. This was me – wings, claws,
fangs and all. And what about the wolf inside of me? I didn’t know
how I felt about that. Did it make a difference? It had always been
there, right? I had just never known about it. But there was a part
of me – somewhere down in the basement – which feared
it.

Wanting
to totally feel free, I took the coat from the chair and reached
inside the pockets. They were empty.

“
Where is it?” I fretted out loud. “Where is my
iPod?”

I threw
the coat to one side and checked the trouser pockets. Nothing. Then
taking a deep breath, I realised I must have left my iPod in my
other coat pocket – the coat that I had stuffed under the seat at
the back of the police van. The police van that was now a day’s
drive away.