Bloodline: An Uncanny Kingdom Urban Fantasy by David Bussell

Bloodline: An Uncanny Kingdom Urban Fantasy by David Bussell

Author:David Bussell [Bussell, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 1719480583
Amazon: B079VXGM4Q
Publisher: Uncanny Kingdom
Published: 2018-05-19T05:00:00+00:00


15

I didn’t give Savina’s offer any real thought, of course. At least not until I was ready to go to sleep, when her words came marching to the forefront of my mind in Size 12 clodhoppers.

Join me, Abbey.

Join me, Abbey.

Join me, Abbey.

Again and again, over and over, louder and louder.

As ridiculous as it sounded to throw in with a vampire who cut up my boyfriend and went Krakatoa on my home, what if Savina was the key to killing Judas? She could have sliced Neil up like a Christmas turkey instead of just leaving me a note, but she let him live. She could have blown me apart along with that vault door, but the worst I had from that encounter was a ringing in my ears. Would it really be the worst thing in the world to accept a little help? We definitely had the same goal, which sort of put us on the same side. Well, except for the whole her being a vampire thing. If we could just overlook that though, at least for a little bit… I mean, surely there was only so much our ragtag gang of plucky misfits could achieve on our own. Three of us—sorry, four, including Neil— against a bible character with an evil army at his back? Fat chance.

But no.

My job was to wipe out the Clan. All of them. Savina might have resigned from the Judas club, but there was no scrubbing that letter J off her forehead. I couldn’t get picky just because she was a “sister”. She had to go. First her people, then the rest. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it exactly, but a couple of weeks back I didn’t know how to lop off a vampire’s head and toe punt it into his mate’s face either, and I’d figured that one out just fine.

And on that happy thought, I finally drifted off to sleep. It came like an axe-fall, spiriting me away to a blissful, uninterrupted slumber. At least until Judas showed up.

He came to my bedside, withered and crusty, a thin bag of skin with bones inside. His spine was hunched so badly that I could see the dull shine bouncing from the surface of his mottled scalp. He stood at the foot of my bed, his eyes roaming over my body, which I realised now was on display. The bedsheets were gone, and the only thing I had on was Neil’s ratty old Thundercats t-shirt, which I was wearing as a nightdress, hitched up to my thighs. Judas licked his lips, his tongue brown and wet and obscene.

I tried to get away from him, tried to go for my weapon, but I couldn’t move. I was paralysed. I couldn’t move the rest of my body, but I was able to move my mouth just enough to form a protest. ‘I know I’m dreaming, dickhead.’

Judas leaned forward and I heard the creak of his ancient bones. ‘How very perceptive of you,’ he said, wearing the ghost of a smile.



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