Playing Dead: Book One of The Whitechapel Chronicles

Chapter 44

"Megan! Megan, wake up!"

Rough hands assaulted me, shaking my body and trying to jolt me awake. I moaned, still lost in the darkness and with no desire to search for the light. I was treading water, wading in the deep and feeling the blessed relief of weightlessness as I drifted further and further away. I wasn't alone. Faces peered out at me from the gloom, some twisted with pain, others with eyes full of fear, calling out to me and hands outstretched and grasping as if I possessed something that they all wanted. I shrugged them off easily and stared at them as I passed, confused as to why I wasn't afraid and why I did not feel the same agony in death as they clearly did. I remained wrapped in the black inky shroud of the underworld and it felt so good that I could not bear the thought of leaving this place.

Regaining consciousness would hurt. I knew it. And not just the physical pain where he had hit me but also the agony of remembering him which I knew would burn like being thrust into the rays of the sun. I didn't want to remember everything he had said, or how he had looked at me, or the way in which he had touched me. I didn't want to remember any of those things because I knew I would wear those memories like everlasting scars.

But the voice was insistent, as were those hands that continued to grab at me, tugging me into a sitting position, where my head drooped onto my chest and I groaned my protests. Fingertips brushed against my face and I flinched, remembering the touch of Brandon's fingers on my skin but these ones felt different, warm and soothing. As they stroked my cheek and smoothed my tousled hair, I was overwhelmed with the need for more and torn between wanting to remain in the comforting confines of darkness and wanting to open my eyes and see his face.

"Damn it Megan, you'd better wake up or...." His voice broke and the thought of that was enough to send me flailing for the surface. I could bear many things, but it seemed not that.

I blinked, feeling the crack of pain across my temple and the tight pull of bruised skin. Harper's face blurred and then slowly came into focus, still camouflaged in his own blood and his wet hair plastered to his head. Red rimmed eyes stared wildly at me, drenched in panic.

Footsteps echoed down the tunnels and I whimpered and tried to sit up too quickly, my head clouding with a nauseating fuzz that made me want to throw up in Harper's lap.

"Easy," he said, holding me back. "It's just Garrick. Most of the Varúlfur have evacuated the compound, any which are still alive anyway."

"Brandon...." I protested, staring into the blackness of the tunnels into which he had headed.

Harper tensed underneath me. "He's gone," he said but I could see that unmistakable rage simmering just under the surface. I stared up at him but he avoided my questioning gaze and looked away quickly, watching as his brother came sprinting out of the darkness, with Kale and Page close behind him.

Garrick's Mohawk was loose and his long dark hair was matted and wet as it hung lank down the side of his face. A deep gash decorated his forehead and the blood run in rivulets down his face like some kind of tribal tattoo. Kale and Page also wore their battle scars and everyone looked pale and exhausted from the fight.

"Megan, thank God," Garrick exhaled when he saw me lying in Harper's arms.

"A vampire who believes in God," I smiled wryly. "Now there's a revelation."

He grinned and his eyes glinted in the gloom. "Oh you'd be surprised what I believe in. After all, who'd have thought that I would have believed in a traitorous piece of twisted scum like my brother here or even in a pampered princess like you for instance?"

"Was there a compliment in there somewhere, Garrick?" Harper said dryly, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm in a generous mood, what can I say? Slicing up a few Varúlfur tends to lighten my demeanour. Talking of which, we should get out of here. They might have fled with their ugly tails between their legs, but who’s to say they won't summon the other clans and be back? And besides, this place is like one giant bloody mausoleum. It's giving me the creeps just being down here." He glanced around nervously and I wondered if he could hear the whispers racing through the tunnel walls as I did.