Chapter 21: The Last Good Days - The Night Market

The bottle clinked softly as Pepper set it down on the coffee table. It had been there since she had moved in – an aged, almost forgotten bottle of whiskey, its label yellowed and curling. She twisted the cap, poured a glass for herself and filled a measure into Laik’s empty mug.

‘I don’t need that,’ he said, not looking up from his place on the sofa, scratching at the bandage on his chest. Through the tinted windows, despite the quilted clouds and rain pattering the windows, the sky was lightening, indicating dawn was on its way.

‘Well, I do.’ She poured a little more for herself. ‘You’ve had it rough. I mean, what you’ve said – that’s . . . Jesus, it’s just it’s beyond cruel. I’m sorry you had to go through all that.’

He didn’t respond at first, listening to the rain strike the glass. After a long pause, he said quietly, ‘The worst part wasn’t what they did to me. It was that I never got time to grieve. My family, my life just – gone. And I didn’t even know if I should feel bad for it. I just . . . didn’t have the time.’

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, swirling the alcohol in the mug. ‘When I left Wales, I thought I could walk the hunger off which was just . . . stupid. The more I tried to stay away from people, the more I kept running into them. And not the good kind. Saw me as an easy mark to rob, or start something with. Sometimes I’d get away before it got too bad. Sometimes . . . the other side of me took over. When it did, I’d wake to silence, and blood, and I knew I couldn’t stay.’

Pepper’s eyes softened.

‘So, I kept walking,’ he went on. ‘Over the border, through forests, sleeping in barns, anywhere I could. Then I found them – a camp in the Forest of Dean. Romany travellers, maybe half a dozen families. Those old-style caravans with the painted doors, sitting around campfires with a fiddle playing almost every night. They didn’t ask questions. Didn’t care about what I’d been. They just told me to sit, eat and rest. Didn’t judge.’

He smiled faintly, eyes flickering. ‘For the first time in months, I didn’t feel like a ghost. Or a monster.’

Pepper rested her chin on her hand. ‘Sounds almost nice.’

‘It was. They took me in like a stray. There was an older man named Luka who ran the camp – big hands, always smelled of his roll-ups which he smoked constantly. His wife, Miri, cooked everything over the fire. You could taste the wood smoke in everything, even the bread. They had a daughter, about ten, maybe eleven. Anya.’

Saying her name, with all it carried, still hurt. ‘She was all carefree. Always barefoot, singing ditties to herself. I think she saw straight through me . . . not what I was, but, like, that I was trying to hide. She’d follow me when I went to forage or chop firewood. Never afraid to be around me.’

Pepper bobbed her head. ‘That’s . . . kind of adorable, actually.’

‘One day,’ Laik said, a shade of a smile forming, ‘she gave me this daisy chain she made. Said it was for luck. I tried to tell her it’d wilt by morning, but she didn’t care. She looped it around my wrist anyway, showed me she had one herself, matching. I must have smiled because, she said, uh . . .’ He stopped himself, shaking his head. ‘Anya said, See? Even the Devil can smile when he’s with friends.’

Laik loudly sniffled, blinking his wet eyes.

Pepper shuffled closer whilst filling her glass half full. ‘You? Smiling properly? Don’t know if I believe that.’

‘Hah . . . yeah, well, it happened alright,’ he said, but there was a quiet warmth behind it – the faintest hint of playfulness beneath the words.

Pepper leaned closer. ‘You really cared about them, didn’t you?’

‘I didn’t know how to at first. But yeah. They were . . . good people. Wanted nothing but peace. Asked nothing of me. I slept during the day, with the excuse that I spent the nights hunting for them. Could bring back deer that roamed wild there. I could drink its blood when I caught it. Hide that side of me.’ He nodded in thought. ‘They taught me that maybe monsters could rest, even if only for a while.’

His tone shifted, low and raw. ‘Then the strangers came.’

He set the mug down. ‘Two of them – a man and a woman. Said they’d been travelling, looking for shelter. I didn’t realise what they were right away. They looked too alive. But I felt something was off, just had a – a feeling. They joined in around the fires, laughed, drank, told stories. And one night, when returning to camp, I saw the man make a move on one of the boys.’

Pepper’s breath caught. ‘Oh God.’

‘I stopped him. Fought him off. He begged for mercy, said they’d been chased for weeks by some madman and were starved. That this lunatic and his crew were hunting vampires who weren’t worthy of their status. The ones who killed mercilessly, like animals. They were making their way through Wales and were looking to cross over into England.’

‘A madman?’ Pepper probed.

Laik spent a moment formulating the name, like he was resilient to summon it in good company.

‘They called him Horus. Centuries old. Remorseless. A real piece of work.’

Laik’s hands trembled faintly as they folded together. ‘They said he had an army. That they had just wanted a place to rest while passing through. I told them they could stay – on the condition that they didn’t touch anyone again.’

He took a slow breath. ‘For a while, it worked. Maybe a month. We cooked under the same stars. Miri would hum while she cleaned the pots. Luka would play the fiddle till sunrise. And Anya – she’d sit beside me by the fire, talking about where they’d go next. France, maybe. Italy. The old countries, they called them. Places I hadn’t thought about in a lifetime. For the first time in a long time, I believed that . . . this was what peace looked like.’

Pepper murmured, ‘It sounds . . . wonderful.’

‘It was. Didn’t last long.’

He fell quiet for a long while before continuing.

‘Those two stayed in line until they left. Didn’t even say goodbye. Just packed up one night and were gone. I went down to the river to fetch water. When I came back, I could smell the blood before I saw it. The air stank of it. Six or so vampires had surrounded the camp. One of them was shouting about sheltering monsters, that it was blasphemy. Horus, he stood in the middle of them. Spoke of confession and judgement in the same breath.’

Laik’s voice darkened to a growl. ‘He told them to hand me over – that it would be a godly offering. Luka tried to explain they didn’t know what he was talking about. Horus didn’t even blink. He just nodded to one of his men, and Luka’s head hit the ground before I even understood what had happened.’

Pepper’s eyes glistened, tossing the burning whiskey down her throat.

‘I don’t remember much after that. Came crashing out the undergrowth and . . . I was angry. And all of it, everything inside me, it all came rushing out. I remember the fire spraying everywhere. The smoke. The screams. Tearing through anyone in front of me. When everything was quiet again, I was on the ground, in such pain. Everything had been ripped apart – tents. Caravans. People. The air stank of blood and burning tarps. Everyone was dead. And Anya . . .’

He shut his eyes, jaw trembling. ‘She was lying near the fire. Still had that damn daisy chain around her wrist.’

Pepper covered her mouth.

He shook his head, voice raw. A tear escaped its confines. ‘And I don’t even know if it was one of Horus’s men who did it or, or . . .’ His breath staggered. ‘I tried to bury them. I couldn’t even do that right. My arm was broken. Horus, and whatever remained of his people, had fallen back but it wouldn’t be for long. I used the opportunity to take what I could carry and left. I kept moving, but soon enough he was hunting me. Didn’t matter where I ended up, he followed. Always followed. I heard Horus called it his crusade – purifying the sinful. But it was just a fancy way to justify murder. And I became his obsession.’

He leaned back, shoulders sagging. ‘I slept in train tunnels, derelict towers, abandoned farms. I don’t know how long I kept up running from place to place. Years, easily. Until I was so, so sick of it. I ended up here – this city. I remember standing by the old canals, and thinking I just couldn’t do it anymore. Let them come. I didn’t care no more. I was done running. And he did. Horus arrived with a small army in tow. Preached his sermon to his flock. I didn’t even listen. I let the monster loose one last time and let it do what it wanted. When I woke, most of his pack were dead. I was getting there. But not him.’

Laik exhaled slowly. ‘He came at me. Would’ve finished it, too – if someone hadn’t stopped him.’

Pepper’s eyes flicked up in surprise.

Laik gave a faint, incredulous chuckle. ‘Mortis. He had a dozen Enforcers with him, all ready to get dirty. Stood there, bold as brass, told Horus I was now under their protection. Said if he wanted to continue his little crusade, he’d have to do it outside of their city. Horus eventually retreated, swearing it wasn’t over. Guess he meant it. He got in with the Odes, climbed the ladder . . . and hasn’t stopped being a pain in my ass since.’

Pepper went quiet for a long moment after he finished, processing this. She sat forward slightly, elbows resting on her knees, eyes distant.

‘What does he even want, Laik? Horus, I mean. What’s all this purging for?’

Laik’s jaw tightened. He stared down at his mug for a moment before speaking.

‘He wants a world without restraint. Where vampires walk the streets like kings, not shadows. Where the strong feed and the weak serve. He says we’re the next rung on the evolutionary ladder, the food chain, destined to rule it, not hide from it.’ He let out a small, humourless breath. ‘He thinks the only way forward is to burn the rest of the world down. And plenty out there think like him. They want impunity. To feed in the open, to treat people like cattle, to play God over whoever’s left standing. Survival of the fittest, he says. But really? He’s just insane.’

Pepper’s voice softened. ‘And you?’

Laik looked up, meeting her eyes. ‘I know what’s in me is wrong . . . But I ain’t no monster.’

He leaned back, the ghost of something weary behind his expression.

Pepper was quiet for a long moment. The only sound was the rain outside and her own lingering sigh.

Then she said softly, ‘Laik. I lost my mother . . . my grandmother . . . I know what it’s like to lose everyone twice. All I know is my sister. All I have is her. And if it happens a third time, then . . . then I don’t know. But I get it. I do. And I’m so sorry.’

He didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.

She extended her arm and topped off the drinks, feeling the whiskey’s effects as she spilled a drop upon the polished veneer of the table. ‘Here’s to still being here. However the hell we’ve managed that.’

He smirked faintly, raising his mug. ‘To being here.’

Pepper met his gaze, her bottom lip wobbling. ‘And surviving the whole damn thing.’

Their drinks touched with a dull clunk. The whiskey burned warm between them.

After a moment of contemplation, Pepper said, ‘Look. I know we’re never gonna be friends, right? This is just for convenience. But maybe we don’t have to hate each other.’

Laik wrinkled his face.

‘I don’t hate you.’

‘And I don’t hate you.’

‘Weird choice of words if that’s something that you apparently don’t do.’ He looked at her as she took to her drink once more, her cheeks flushed. A faint smile tugged at his lips. ‘But you have a point. I suppose it could make stealing the Eternal Rose easier if there’s less of the drama . . .’

‘Cool. Cool.’ Pepper turned to him, sliding her glass onto the table and extending a hand. ‘Then, uh . . . truce?’

The rain tapped against the window, steady and constant as the first cracks of sun seeped over the lines of the sleeping buildings.

Laik took her hand in his, gentling folding his fingers around. He looked at her earnestly.

‘Yeah,’ he softly agreed. ‘Truce.’