Vampire Shift - By Tim O'Rourke Page 0,69

other Vampyrus wings I’d seen, Roland’s were covered in a coat of greasy black hair. They glistened in the light from the desk lamp. Rolling his head forward, he looked at me, and I could see that where he had once had a neat row of yellow stained teeth, he now had a set of discoloured fangs.

“Surprised are you?” he asked, his voice low, like a growl. “Luke will be here anytime now,” I threatened him. “Bishop doesn’t scare me,” he leered. “Murphy and Potter will be with him,” I said, trying anything to get him to flee. Holding his belly with both of his meaty hands, he released a throaty chuckle. “Oh please, Kiera, you’re really scaring me now.” “You should be scared,” I told him, my voice wavering. “I saw what they did to Rom tonight.” “Rom?” he laughed again. “Rom was nothing compared to those that come next. We were sent just to pave the way.”

“We?” I asked, now backed into the bathroom with nowhere to run or hide.

“Rom, Taylor, Phillips, and me,” he smiled. “We are just mere disciples.”

“For who?” I said.

“Roland!” a voice shouted from behind him.

He turned, and looking past him, I could see his mother standing in the doorway of my room. Her wrinkled-looking face and eyes seething with anger.

“Mother, this has nothing to do with you!” he barked at her.

“Enough Roland!” she screeched back. “Haven’t you done enough damage?”

“It’s only just starting,” he said, turning back towards me.

Roland grabbed for me, and as he did, he was yanked sharply backwards, crashing into the wall on the opposite side of the room. Believing that Luke had arrived, my heart lept and I raced from the bathroom and into the bedroom. But he wasn’t there, just the old woman and her son.

Getting up from the floor and flapping his wings in anger, he leapt towards his mother, landing inches from her. “Mother go back downstairs and do whatever it is you do and leave this to me.”

Making her short height count, the old woman straightened her curved back and confronted her son. “For too long I’ve covered for you Roland,” she said. “For too long I’ve sat back and watched you murder the innocent people of this town to satisfy your lust for their blood. But no more Roland – it ends tonight.”

“I won’t tell you again, mother,” Roland shouted. “Now go back downstairs and mind your own business!”

“It is my business!” she spat. “We could’ve had a good life above ground. We had something good going here. But instead of going back under when the hunger was upon you – you gave into it. You’re weak, pathetic, and I’m so ashamed of you.”

‘Mother…” he started.

“No Roland!” she screeched.” I’m sick and tired of having to try and protect the good people of this town from the vampires you’ve created, and from you. For years now I’ve pushed those bottles of holy water and crucifixes onto the people of this town in the hope that it might protect them. But I’m tired of it, Roland. Please stop – if not for yourself – do it for me.”

He looked into his mother’s eyes and for a moment, I hoped that what she had said to him had made some impact. Then snarling, he said to her, “And you say I’m pathetic.” Then knocking her to the floor, he turned towards me again. But before he had taken one step in my direction, his mother had sprung into the air, a faded set of black wings flapping behind her. Reaching for him, she clawed at his back and pulled him down. Roland rolled over, crushing his wings. The old woman lunged at him, but drawing his knees into his chest, he kicked out, sending her spinning across the room. She crashed into the wall, which shuddered and then cracked, brick dust showering the room. She hit the floor with a sickening thud, and I thought that she must be dead or at least have broken all the bones in her body. But no sooner had she hit the floor, than she was up again and racing towards her son. Screeching, she clawed at his face, and he covered his head with his large hands.

“Get off me, mother!” Roland roared.

“No more!” she screamed.

Flitting all around him, her delicate and fragile looking wings humming up and down, she struck out at him, a diagonal gash appearing across his face. Wiping the blood away with the back of his