Safety is Relative

Chapter Twenty Nine- Part Two- Blood Brothers

***

They sit in one of the back rooms of the bar, muffled music coming through the thin walls. Kathy is kneeling by Nate’s side, pulling out wooden splinters the size of my forearm from his back with a pair of tweezers. He is gripping the table with claw-like hands, grimacing with pain every few seconds, but holding a heated conversation with Thomas.

‘So, a slayer village. What in the depravity of our uncle were you doing in a bloody slayer village?’

I notice that the more they talk, the more the American accents disappear and their voices take on similarities with Nate’s. It’s an odd mix, the accent that now emerges. Like you’re watching a Jane Austen adaption with an actor who has forgotten they are supposed to be from Victorian England.

‘I was hiding,’ says Nate, wincing as a particularly lethal splinter is removed. ‘Hiding from our uncle’s wrath.’

‘Why? Did you forget to polish his boots? Did you refuse to kiss his feet?’ Thomas’s venom is vicious and scathing.

Nate stares at him, with sad silver eyes. ‘Because I tried to kill him,’

Kathy stands up, accidentally nudging his wound with her elbow. ‘Oh, sorry! But- but- you tried to kill him? Why?’

‘Because he’s a monster,’ supplies Thomas. ‘Don’t be dim, Kath. No, the real question is: why did you suddenly decide to kill him, after being his willing slave for so long?’

‘Because I couldn’t stand it anymore. The lifestyle, the constant death, the abuse, the inhumanity. It wore me down. I felt hollow inside, like I was lost, like my soul had wandered away and I hadn’t even noticed. But I was too scared to do anything about it until one night when it just got too much and I attacked him.’

‘Did you kill him?’ Kathy asks, her voice full of foolish, child-like hope.

Both boys look at her like she is deranged.

‘I think we would have heard about it, darling sister,’ says Thomas, rolling his eyes. ‘But no, we heard that our dear brother was dead, instead. What happened- did he take pity on his favourite nephew, or was he filled with a sudden uncharacteristic compassion and couldn’t bring himself to pull the final plug?’

Nate looks at him with barely-concealed annoyance. ‘No. He thought he had killed me. So did the slayers. That’s when my death certificate was published.’

Thomas doesn’t say anything for a few moments as he digests this. Then he snorts. ‘So you went for the most sensible option left to you, did you?’ He puts on a higher voice, mimicking his brother. ‘I’ve just been given a chance to start my life again, because no-one wants to kill me anymore, so let’s go seek some slayers out and live right amongst them!’ He laughs humourlessly. ‘What possessed you, brother?’

‘I didn’t go there immediately,’ says Nate coldly. Then his voice softens, becoming sadder yet also weirdly warmer. ‘First I lived for several years with a new vampire and his witch wife, and I helped them raise their daughter. He was my best friend. He got me off blood, and I found myself again.

‘What was his name?’ asks Kathy softly, putting her hand on her brother’s shoulder.

It is the first display of affection towards each other they have shown. He smiles, and touches his own hand briefly to hers. Thomas shifts angrily and folds his arms.

‘John. John Haemon.’

‘What happened to him?’

A muscle jumps in his jaw. ‘I don’t know. We moved to Kirking because we figured that no-one would look for us there. We had had a close shave with one of the lesser vampires who had recognised me in our old home, so we moved to the slayer village because which idiots would live in their enemies’ home?’