Disenchanted (5 page)

He stabbed the man then tucked
the other sword under his arm and drove it backwards, satisfied at the death
gasp of the vampire behind him. The doors swung open. His arms dropped to his
sides. His bloodied swords rested against his legs. Crimson drips pooled on the
floor like spilled rubies. Sapphire stood in the doorway, candlelight
flickering over her stunning form. Her corset accentuated her curves. She moved
gracefully, her hips rolling sexily. Her skirt swirled around her ankles,
trailing on the floor. Her dark hair was a striking contrast to her ghostly
skin.

"Why do you have to be a
vampire?" He groaned. "I don't care what teenage fiction says – in
real life this isn't fashionable. I can't take you home to meet my parents –
you'd bite them."

"You're mine." Her
voice was husky.

She circled him, her finger
tracing his jaw. He whirled around. He'd been watching her. How had she moved
so fast?

"You're strange. Handsome
but strange."

"
Me
strange?
You're
the
one living the Gothic
fairytale
." He paused.
"You think I'm handsome? The girls usually go for Alex. He'll be here
soon, armed with silver stakes and garlic."

Her cold touch caressed his face.
He blinked when he found himself staring into her scarlet eyes. Her fingers
raked his cropped dark hair. He closed his eyes, his scalp tingling. Her lips
pressed against his, her tongue flickering along his bottom lip. He moaned, his
tongue dancing inside her upper lip as he surrendered to the kiss. Her body
moulded against his, iciness seeping through him before desire ignited flames
inside him.

"Casey!" Alex burst
through the door, wielding his branch.

Casey stepped back, fumbling for
his swords. He thrust them into her chest. Vampires blocked his exit. Alex
walked through the crowd.

"I leave you alone for five
minutes, you make out with a hot Goth chick and go on a killing spree. My mum
always said there was something odd about you. You'll be the death of me."

"Run!"

"Not a chance."

The door slammed. The vampires
moved closer. Alex staked one with his branch, wrenched it out and staked
another. Casey watched in horror as Alex was dragged down by two female
vampires, his screams filtering through the hall. Casey fought them off and
dived on Alex. He stroked his hair as blood seeped from his throat and the
light faded from his eyes.

Sapphire pulled the swords from
her heart and threw them. They clattered on the dusty floor, one sliding until
it hit a fallen vampire. The others stood in silence. Watching. Waiting.

Sapphire's eyes blazed. "A
single kiss awoke me from my sleeping death. Now I'm yours. For eternity."

"No!"

She flung him against the wall.
Her fangs pierced his neck. Casey's screams echoed around the castle that was
shedding its shackles of the curse and awakening to a world that no longer
believed in
fairytales
.

Three Cheers for
Sweet Revenge

Some say I'm a bad girl like it's
a bad thing.

Children's stories teach you if
you're good, you'll be universally adored, have the kind of beauty that only
comes in Max Factor packaging, the handsome prince will fall in love with you,
your enemies will be
smited
by Karma and you'll live
happily ever after.

Yuck.

My ambitions run far higher than
marrying
Mr.
Darcy and being unemployed for the rest
of my life. Pretty dresses and glittery things aren't my style. Besides, I'd rather
get my own revenge on my enemies. Karma's too busy to deal with everyone. Think
of me as her glamorous assistant.

I tried being good. I got bored.

So I tried being bad. And I
liked
it. I never wanted a boring goody
two shoes guy whose sole aim in life was to treat me like a Princess Barbie. I
fell for a bad boy. He's far more fun. My mum refers to us as the new Bonnie
and Clyde. I want to go down in history. In a hundred years' time no-one will
know who Posh and Becks are. Pouting at the camera with one hand on your hip
gets old fast. Bonnie and Clyde are still celebrated. But in the modern age of
grow-fast celebrities, no-one would care enough to write my story. I'd have to
write it myself.

Jazz and I met six months ago. He
and his gang were hated by most of the town. At first my mum pitied him - he
and his widowed mum lived on a decrepit farm and were forced to sell their
livestock to keep it. He'd been arrested for petty theft, burglary and
possessing a knife. There were rumours his mum turned to prostitution to keep
the bank off their backs. Some said it was Jazz who'd done the prostituting but
he vehemently denied it. I believed him. He wouldn't look good in
crotchless
knickers and fishnet stockings.

My mum's pity vanished when I
hooked up with Jazz. The town's delinquent teenager was only likeable when he
wasn't dating her daughter. When he exchanged his car for pills, he was banned
from the house. Especially when he took one then planted the rest, convinced a
beanstalk would grow and he could climb it to a magical land filled with
treasures.

There's still no beanstalk in his
garden.

Jazz and I are soul mates. Our
demons are soul mates too. They fed off each other, growing stronger until they
consumed us. In some ways we're each other's salvation but we're also each
other's ruin.

***

"You're not in the Jolly
Rogers," Neon grouched, kicking me in the leg. He dyed his hair bright
colours, which I thought was stupid considering the gang were wanted for most
crimes and his hair made him easily identifiable. He might as well leave his
driving licence at the scene.

"I helped you escape the
cops." I kicked him back, harder.

"Listen Goldilocks, we all
went through initiation. All you've done is screw Jazz. How does that prove
your loyalty?"

"Aw you want me to screw you
too?" I smirked. "No thanks, I'll catch something. You haven't had
your jabs. I'll get a gang tattoo. No, I'll put a studded flag on the back of
my leather jacket, like yours."

"Only if that's all you
wear." Jazz grinned, sliding his hand under my top as I lay between his
legs. He leaned down and kissed me.

"I'll wear yours
tonight." I smiled wickedly, stroking his thigh. "Is it blood in
blood out? There're a few people I'd happily 'erase'."

"It's not initiation if you
want
to do it," Razor said.

"I
really
don't want to kill anyone on my list."

"You should do one too,
Jazz."

"Fuck that, I started the
Jolly Rogers."

"It's high risk letting her
in. The minute she gets arrested she'll run crying back to mummy and join
Sunday school."

I kicked him too. "Should I
rob a bank? Steal somebody's mascot? Flash a football team?" I started to
lift my top. Jazz pulled his phone out to photograph me.

"Break into the house in the
woods."

"The serial killers' house?
Sorry, 'victim' isn't in my DNA."

"You
gotta
spend the night there," Demon told me.

"You're hoping they'll kill
me so I can't join the gang," I accused.

"How does that prove her
loyalty? Can't she break in and steal something?" Jazz protested.

"She's a girl so she has to
doubly prove herself."

"It's too dangerous."

"I'll do it," I
interrupted.

"
Georgie
,
don't."

"I want to ride around on a
motorbike and scowl at my neighbours."

"We don't do that."
Neon glared at me.

"My mistake. I'm doing it,
Jazz."

"We'll both spend the night
there."

"She's
gotta
do it alone," Demon said. "Jazz, you have to break in to the Judge's
house three times, stealing something each time."

The Judge was the most vindictive
judge on the court circuit. If Jazz was caught, he'd never see natural daylight
again.

"If you want rid of us,
arrange a hit," I muttered. "It'd be kinder."

"If you're too wussy, just
say so. You've had a free ride, Goldilocks. No other girl's allowed to hang out
with us. Jazz, you brought her in, you're responsible for her."

I glowered. "I've already
said I'll do it.
D'you
want it in blood?"

I really didn't want to spend the
night in the serial killers' creepy house but I wanted to join the Jolly
Rogers. Tearing around on a motorbike and indulging in petty crime was far more
exciting than Youth Club. There's only so long I could listen to the airheads
gushing about the latest
boyband
before I wanted to
poke them in the eyes with their false nails.

"Come on Jazz, is she worth
risking the Judge's wrath for?" Razor asked.

"You haven't seen her in her
crotchless
knickers and fishnet stockings." He
winked at me.

And Jazz was worth spending the
night in the serial killers' house for. I only hoped we lived long enough to
reap the rewards.

***

I kissed
Georgie
,
slipped my rucksack onto my back and picked up my bike keys.

"I can act as your
lookout," she said.

"I
gotta
do this alone."

"Text me when you're
out." She opened her leather jacket. She wore only her minx smile and her
blue satin knickers. "So you remember to come back."

I groaned and kissed her hungrily
before tearing myself away. I mounted my bike and rode towards the Judge's
place. I stopped outside and killed the engine. I dismounted and removed a
grappling hook from my bike seat. The Judge lived in the penthouse suite of a
gated community, nicknamed Land of the Giants because all the big names lived
there. I hid my bike in a bush then jogged across the road. I scaled the fence
easily, my leathers protecting me from the barbed wire. As cool as scars are, I
didn't want one across my arse, acting as a target for the inmates if this went
horribly wrong.

I jumped down the other side and
crept towards the building. Whistling. I ducked into the shadows, flicking out
my knife. A security guard walked past, swinging his torch. I was tempted to
take him out, but there were probably other guards and they'd notice if they
were a man down.

I waited until he rounded the
corner then I took out my grappling hook and swung it underarm towards the
roof. The hook disappeared into the night. It jerked so I hung onto it a foot
from the ground. It held firm. I was already wearing my harness, so I attached
the clip and climbed to the roof. I pulled myself up and peered over the edge
to see the security guard walk below me.

I trotted to the door that led
inside. It was unlocked. This was too easy. Knowing my luck, I'd get inside to
find a gang of armed police, their lasers making me look like I had a severe
case of chicken pox. I eased open the door and tiptoed down the stairs. My
boots were loud on the marble floor. I was tempted to take them off, but no
burglar looks fierce standing there in Jack
Skellington
socks.

I figured the best way to do
this, was to act like I was supposed to be there. So I walked to the Judge's door
and knocked. At least I'd be able to tell if he was in. I didn't want to abseil
through his bedroom window to find him in bed with his wife. There are some
sights they don't even subject terrorists to.

There was no answer. I took my
rucksack off and removed a lock picking kit. I had the door open in seconds.
The alarm bleeped. I pulled a piece of paper out of my pocket that had his date
of birth, his wife's date of birth and their marriage date. Third time's the
charm.

I crept through the suite. There was
no way he could afford this on a Judge's salary. The place looked like a museum
had thrown up in it. I was surprised everything wasn't in alarmed cases with
armed guards.

I entered the living room and ran
my torch beam along the shelves. They were filled with photos of him and his
wife, him qualifying for the bar in his younger days, him taking the silk, him
becoming a judge. There were also newspaper clippings of his most famous cases.
His modesty was inspiring.

A key turned in the lock.
Swearing, I looked for somewhere to hide. I snuck into his bedroom and crawled
under the bed like a horror movie cliché. Any minute now I'd be dragged out by
my ankles and hacked to pieces whilst the audience groaned at my stupidity.

I heard two male voices. Great. I
could handle the Judge no problem, but if he had younger, stronger company, I'd
be screwed. And not in a way that would feature in the Kama Sutra.

The door opened. My heart thudded
so loudly, I was surprised it wasn't sending treacherous vibrations through the
floor. Two pairs of legs entered the room. One pair wore suit trousers, the
other was clad in jeans.

"You've been a very bad boy.
I'll have to punish you," the Judge said, in what he probably thought was
a seductive voice. He sounded like he had wind.

I screwed my eyes shut. No. No.
This couldn't be happening. I know people believed in Karma but this was
harsh
.

"I'm very sorry
m'lord
. Please be merciful," the other guy pleaded.

"I sentence you to twenty
lashes. Drop your trousers."

The jeans hit the floor. I
covered my mouth, biting my finger to stop myself laughing. I hoped I never
came up before the Judge in court now. How could I be terrified of a guy who
was trying to pull off sexy
dom
and failing? I
sincerely hoped he wasn't wearing a leather
g-string
and nipple clamps under his suit.

The bed creaked. The Judge's legs
were right by me. I was sorely tempted to tie his laces together. He couldn't
chase me then. But now wasn't the time for mischief.

"I'm going to put you over
my knee and spank you 'til you're sorry."

I gaped. I did not just hear
that. I shuffled forwards. Forget the Seven Wonders of the World, the Judge
spanking some guy was a sight to cross off my bucket list. I pulled my iPhone
out and hit record. A good looking guy wore only his shorts, his head lowered
in fake shame. He only looked about sixteen. He knelt and lay across the
Judge's lap. I bit my lip at the first smack. My fist was in my mouth on the
second. I turned away, fearing I'd laugh if I continued watching.

A pair of eyes stared at me under
the bed.

Shit! We were so close I could
count his eyelashes. My heart pounding, I put my finger to my lips and winked
like a sleazy lothario.

You don't need to know what
happened next. I'll be in therapy for the next five years, so I'll spare you
the gory details. I consider it repaying my debt to society. I'll just say this
– that guy was
flexible
.

When the Judge was snoring like a
warthog, I army crawled out from under the bed and into the living room. I
stood and headed for the shelving unit which contained a Faberge egg
collection. I carefully placed them into my bag, admiring the solid gold one.

"If he catches you, he'll
kill you."

I whirled around and saw the guy
leaning against the doorframe.

"Maybe he'll spank me 'til
I'm sorry." I know, I was hardly in the position to make jokes, but I
couldn't resist.

"I get paid a thousand quid
for that. What do you earn?"

"A
thousand
? Do I need experience or can I train on the job?" He
smiled. "You should get your arse insured in case you sit on something
sharp. Nice tattoo."

"Thanks."

"Are you old enough to be
here?"

"Go. Before he wakes."

"Thanks." I rushed to
the door. "Just...let me get a head start before calling the police."

"You think he'd want them
here the same time as me?"

I smiled and slipped out the
door. I hurried to the roof, climbed over the edge and abseiled down. I hit the
ground, detached myself, gathered my rope and ran for the fence.

"Hey!"

A torch beam chased me. I jumped
over the fence, mounted my bike and sped off as the gate opened. I didn't slow
until I reached our hangout.

"Fee, fi,
fo
,
fum
, I stole the eggs off the
evil one." I held them aloft so they could revel in my bravery. "You
wouldn't believe what I had to suffer to get these bad boys. My innocence has
been
soiled
."

"You stole china eggs?"
Demon scoffed, swiping one and tossing it around. "You could've nicked
something valuable."

I caught the egg. "They're
worth thousands. Think of them as golden eggs. I also got a life insurance
policy in case the Judge presses charges." I showed them the footage. The
Judge spanking a young guy was as erotic as cleaning the toilet. "That's
my golden goose. I need to do squats so I can rent my arse out for a thousand
quid per spanking session. Should I get a hand print tattoo on my arse?"