Playing Dead: Book One of The Whitechapel Chronicles

Chapter 41

A/N: Hello lovelies and thanks for making it this far without turning back...HOWEVER...here come the warning: If you are reading Playing Dead because you were looking for a good old fashioned paranormal romance with a few erotic interludes, you might find the next chapter not to your taste, In fact it may shock, upset or offend. For shocking anyone, I make no apologies but if I upset or offend that is never my intention. BUT...please be aware that Playing Dead was never intended to be paranormal romance, it was originally devised as a horror novel. And if I can quote my favourite horror novelist and hero, Stephen King: "If you're going into a very dark place....then you should take a bright light, and shine it on everything. If you don't want to see, why in God's name would you dare the dark at all?" And so, whilst I do wholeheartedly apologise if anyone is upset, I do not apologie for the horror and would suggest you only continue if you wish to dare the dark. Thank you and thanks for reading. 

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"Just when I thought you couldn't become any more pathetic, look at you now."

Clara walked behind the chair at the head of the dining table and rested her elbows against it casually, although her eyes told me she was feeling anything but casual about the whole situation.

"I would admire your bravery coming here, but the whole notion of a vampire uprising is so streaked with stupidity that I'm hardly surprised that you're a part of it. After all, you were never the smartest of humans, so you were never going to make an intelligent vampire."

I laughed, hearing the cold crackle of my voice echo around the large room. "You don't get it, do you? The vampire uprising is happening. It's here, it's at your door and it's inside your rotting compound. You can play the smug bitch all you like, but pretty soon this place will be ours and the age of the Varúlfur will be over."

She leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing as small glints of amber began to seep through. "The days of our reign will never be over. This is the natural order of things and this is the way it has been for hundreds of years. Do you think your disgusting people have not tried before? We will wipe you out just as we did then and this time we will leave no trace of you behind. Vampire uprising indeed! You're pathetic all of you. You're like rats, crawling in the gutters and what do we do to rats when they start to breed and multiply? We flush them out of their holes and we exterminate them. Soon the vampires will be extinct and we will no longer have to smell your foul stench everywhere we go."

"Stench?" I grinned. "Interesting that you should mention that. Tell me, are Varúlfur really related to wolves because from the stench you left literally everywhere in my house, I would have suspected you were more closely related to the skunk?"

It was Clara's turn to laugh now, but I saw a flicker of annoyance cross her face. "Oh yes, your little visit. Now didn't that cause a stir? I've got to hand it to you; jealousy is such an inventive calling card."

"Jealousy?" I scoffed. "You're a fine one to talk. Cooing over my house, my things and my husband."

"Oh Megan, get a grip. I was never jealous of you. And as for your husband, he came to me, not the other way around. He's a senior alpha. Of course he wants the attention of the clan leader's daughter! That is just the way of things. That is how we are. And you try to claim it is nothing but some base human emotion that made me choose him? I am the most important member of my clan, it is through me and only through me that the clan will survive and it is only right that I choose the strongest, most virile male. Is it my fault if that male just happened to be your husband?" She smirked and I clenched my fists tighter, feeling the rage begin to snowball out of control.