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“Back the fuck off,” I warn in a hard voice. My tone seems to shock him out of his anger.
Now he starts blinking his eyes and shaking his head, as though trying to rid himself of a daydream. He peers at me, at my face that he had been hitting only minutes ago, and his expression cl
ouds with confusion.
“I – I’m so sorry,” he mumbles. “I don’t understand…” then he trails off and starts shaking his head again while running his hands over his face.
“Sorry for what? For trying to beat the living shit out of a woman you don’t even know, or for the man back there who you have probably left irreparably injured?” My indignation consumes me as I take a step forward to confront this man who appears all but harmless now.
“I don’t know why I did that, why I hit you…I just felt – crazed.”
Something isn’t right about all of this. To quote Shakespeare, something is rotten in the state of Denmark. There was no protest on today; I would have heard about it on the news this morning if there had been. No, there is foul play afoot, and I’d be hard pushed to believe it didn’t have something to do with the Sorcerer Theodore being back on the scene.
“You’re lucky I haven’t decided to call the police. Go home and say a prayer for the man you beat up. Oh, and perhaps call an ambulance for him while you’re at it.”
Although as I’m saying this, I can already hear sirens approaching in the distance, sirens for both the police and an ambulance. They intermingle together to make an unpleasant high pitched wail, like a cat when it tries to sing in the middle of the night. We used to have a cat on our street when I was growing up who would wake me every couple of nights with the most God-awful mewling.
But anyway, I suppose I’m getting off the point. The point is, the paramedics are on their way. I should probably stick around and get checked out, but I can tell that my injuries are mostly superficial. However, as Finn would say, I’ll be limping like a motherfucker for at least the next few days after the number Mister Fisty Cuffs here did on my leg.
He’s still staring at me, bug-eyed. Without another word I turn away from him and start my limping journey home. He calls to me, telling me to wait a minute, but I don’t acknowledge his pleas. It takes all of my self-control not to turn back around and give him the finger.
For the past three days I’ve been spending the majority of my time wandering around the city alone, sitting people watching in cafés or mindlessly browsing through the shops. This is why I was out today in the first place. Basically, I’ve been doing it to get away from the house. There are just way too many people around Finn’s place these days. Half of which happen to think I’m some sort of modern incarnation of Judas. Yeah, the vampires remain pissed over the fact that I went behind their backs to rescue Rebecca.
In the beginning I had spent some of my time visiting Nicky, but she left to go on a month long trip around Europe the other day, so now I don’t have that option anymore.
Rita, her mum and Alvie are still living in the motor home out in the front garden, while Finn, Gabriel, Ira, Amanda and myself have been staying in the house. But get this, Ethan went and bought the house that had been for sale across the road for the vampires to live in while we’re still maintaining our strange alliance. Very cosy. I think he gets some kind of perverse satisfaction out of making me miserable.
He still hasn’t spoken a word to me. It’s only been four days, but still, the vampire needs to learn how to let go of a grudge. I mean, he could at least be civil to me for the sake of working together, but no such luck. Maturity, it seems, is something that has evaded Mr Cristescu and his two-hundred and seventy-nine years.
The sky has only just darkened to night as I slot my key into Finn’s front door. I can hear chattering coming from the kitchen. When I step into the hallway, shrugging out of my coat and hanging it on the banister at the end of the stairs, I pick out the distinct tones of Rita and Ethan having a chat.
Ethan has been doing his utmost to charm Rita recently. The bastard. He knows she’s powerful and he wants her on his side in the long run. I think he also knows that she’s my favourite and wants to steal her away from me. Don’t get me wrong, I love Finn, Alvie and Gabriel to bits, but Rita will always hold a special place in my heart. I feel oddly possessive of her friendship now that Ethan has set his sights on her.
Disgruntled, I fling open the kitchen door and limp my way over to the sink to wash the city grit from my hands. Their chatting immediately ceases and Rita lets out a low gasp.
“What happened to you Tegan?” she asks, rising from her seat with a look of worry on her face.
“I got caught up in a riot down on Campion Row. Some crazy bastard attacked me.” I stop and gesture at my rapidly bruising face. “As you can probably see.”
“Jesus, why would he attack you?” Rita’s words come out half concerned, half intrigued.
“I don’t know. All I can tell is that something funky is going on. One minute everything was normal, people going about their own business doing their shopping, and the next they were transformed into a bunch of violent nut-jobs.”
I allow myself a glance at Ethan. The look in his eyes is murderous, only I can’t tell whether he’s angry at the man who hurt me or if he’s still just angry at me in general. His cold, dark blue eyes cut right through me. Woah, intense or what.
I look back at Rita. “Do you think it might have something to do with Theodore? I seriously wouldn’t put it past him to try sending the human population insane simply for his own entertainment.”
Rita sits back down now, a thoughtful expression on her pixie-like face. Today she’s wearing red lipstick that’s so dark it’s almost black, with this weird white eye shadow and mascara on her eyes. It’s striking to say the least. Her outfit consists of ripped black jeans and a lacy purple shirt. Oh yeah, and bare feet. Rita loves to go around barefoot. Perhaps she feels it brings her closer to that Goddess she’s always invoking in her spells. Mother Earth, maybe?
“It could be the workings of Theodore I suppose, but there’s also a chance it’s something that seeped through from the hell dimension when Marcel brought him back over to this side. There’s some dodgy stuff over there, stuff that might make people go a little bit crazy when released into the atmosphere.”
“Can you be more specific?” I ask her, leaning back against the counter and trying not to wince at the pain in my leg.
“Malevolent entities, spirits, demons, that kind of thing,” Rita answers casually.
“Yay, I love when evil comes for a visit,” I reply sarcastically. “Help me get out the good china, would you?”
Rita rolls her powdery white eyes. They look like they’ve just been snowed on. “Good luck with that. I don’t think Finn’s the kind of man to own fancy china.”
