The Iron in Blood - Jenny Doe (top 50 books to read TXT) 📗
- Author: Jenny Doe
Book online «The Iron in Blood - Jenny Doe (top 50 books to read TXT) 📗». Author Jenny Doe
She was on her feet now, still sobbing, while one of her friends patted her gingerly on the back. My maths teacher, Mr Townsend, was standing nearby with his hands on his hips, frowning. I watched him, but I could feel the horrified glances of the bystanders who had witnessed the encounter.
“What happened here, Shanice?” He asked the instigator first. I was annoyed, but it’s always that way. The person who got hurt is assumed to be the victim, whether they started the whole mess or not.
“She hid be!” Shanice gestured towards me with her free hand. The other was still wrapped protectively around her squashed nose. Blood was oozing briskly from between her fingers. I held my breath, not wanting to get a whiff of that again.
“Rebecca?”
“She tried to hit me first.” I felt I had to defend myself. Mr Townsend frowned again.
“Right. You two are both suspended for the rest of the day. I’ll be telling Mr Parker about this, and I’m sure he will want to discuss this with both of you tomorrow.” The threat was there, and as threats go, it was a pretty good one. Mr Parker, our headmaster transformed into a terrifying giant of a man with a legendary temper when he was annoyed. If I hadn’t been so worried about my own craziness, I would have been suitably anxious about the idea of having to explain this fracas to him.
“Now go home and get cleaned up! Show’s over!” He rounded on the spectators and they scattered.
I turned to Mark. “Thank you,” I said, meaning it.
He smiled and nodded. “No worries, Sis. Go home now, have a shower, and go see Angus. The neighbours will just have to think what they want.” He chuckled again. I had to smile.
“See you later,” I said hopefully.
“Bet on it. I’ll be there straight after school. Go now.” He waved me off.
I walked home slowly, wondering how my fourteen year old brother had managed to grow up so quickly. I realised that he must have somehow sensed the danger in me, and he’d decided to protect me from myself. I was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude and love and admiration for my brother. I owed him big.
Angus
When Rebecca rang the doorbell at ten that morning, I thought that she had decided to skip school for the day. But when she told me what had happened, and more importantly, what had almost happened, I realised that it was a bit worse than I had thought.
Rebecca sat curled in her corner on the three seater sofa, her eyes filled with anguish as she described her near catastrophic encounter with the smell of fresh blood, and how much she had wanted to taste it.
“It could have been a lot worse,” I told her. “You did fairly well, actually. For one, you didn’t actually lick the blood on your hand, no matter how much you wanted to. And secondly, you didn’t go for Shanice’s neck either.”
“You haven’t met Shanice, have you,” she said dryly. I laughed.
“Mark saved me. I think he knew something like this would happen.”
“I am really going to have to get him a big present some time soon.”
“I think he wants the kitten,” she smiled at me. Speak of the devil. It sauntered in to the sitting room from wherever it had been hiding and mewled at Rebecca. She picked it up and it sat purring on her lap, clearly satisfied with the situation.
“Rebecca, whether you like her or not, the fact that you didn’t bite Shanice when you smelled her blood is a very good sign. I would never have been able to do that when I was your age. I think that’s why our father kept us out of school. Boys fight, and blood gets spilled. It’s one of those things. My father knew he couldn’t take that risk. I didn’t expect you to be breaking noses quite so soon though.”
“She had it coming. She’s been trying to bully me for ten years.” She paused, her brow furrowed in thought. “The strange thing was that I really enjoyed breaking her nose. It was so satisfying. And afterwards, when I realised what I had done, I wasn’t really sorry I’d done it. I tried to feel sorry, but it just wasn’t there. I was a lot more upset that I’d almost exposed myself as beyond freaky by licking her blood off my hand. That really scared me.”
I nodded slowly.
“Have you ever hurt someone and actually enjoyed it?” she wanted to know, looking at me with a worried expression, and stroking the kitten’s back. It purred even louder.
How to answer a question like that. Hmmm. I decided to be truthful. Mostly.
“Yes.” I let that sink in for a few seconds. “I think it’s because when you develop this need and ability to kill people and drink their blood, your brain makes a kind of automatic adjustment, so it doesn’t feel completely wrong to hurt other people.”
“So, what, am I a psychopath now?” her voice rose in panic.
“No Rebecca, you are most definitely not. Just because you enjoy hurting someone when it becomes necessary, it doesn’t mean that you are now going to run about murdering and torturing people indiscriminately. Intellectually you know that that would be wrong, so you will try to avoid it. But when you have to hurt someone, you will, and you won’t feel bad about it. It’s kind of a self defence mechanism.”
She sat quietly, trying to absorb and process my reasoning, and after a while she nodded.
“I get it.” But she didn’t look too happy about it. “Do you think I can still go back to school now?”
“Do you want to?”
“I don’t know. I always expected to finish, but now it all seems so pointless. Problem is, if I drop out now, Mum will suspect the worst.” She laughed suddenly. “Well, no, she couldn’t, could she? She’d think I had human problems, like being pregnant or something like that.” She looked at me and blushed. I tried to think of something else. Being in the same room as Rebecca Harding was difficult enough, but even thinking about her being pregnant, and how she’d get that way, well, that became excruciating. Even without factoring myself into the equation.
“I need to learn how to do this. Yesterday it didn’t seem so scary. I suppose because it wasn’t quite as real as it is today.”
“That reminds me. I’ve got some iron tablets for you.”
“Do I have to take them?” I knew she meant do I have to be this?
“You are an iron metaboliser, Rebecca. Whether you want to be one or not. You need iron, because if you don’t take it, you could die, or you could tear someone’s throat out in desperation eventually.” She looked shocked by my harsh words. I leaned forwards, and continued. “The best thing you can do is accept it and learn to control it.” Tears were forming in her eyes. I continued, lowering my voice. “You don’t have to do this alone, Rebecca. I will help you as much as I can, and my brothers will be here tomorrow evening. Marcus is good at this sort of thing. Much better than me. He makes it all sound normal. And then you’ve got Mark, and of course,” I paused for effect, “don’t forget the kitten.” She giggled at that.
“What more could I ask for?” she smiled through her tears.
“Coffee.”
“Yes please. But not that thick tarry muck Mark gave us yesterday.” She pulled a face.
“Yeah, it was pretty grim, wasn’t it?” I stood up and went into the kitchen, leaving her to think it over. She didn’t really have much of a choice, but it would be easier for everyone if she were on board with us, so to speak. Especially for her. I made coffee and dug out some biscuits I’d bought the previous morning. She was sitting in the same position when I walked back carrying a tray.
“I wonder if the people who hurt this little thing will ever be punished,” she said quietly, tickling the kitten under its chin. It purred ecstatically.
“Yes.”
She looked up at me. “You’ve done it already, haven’t you?” She knew. There was no point denying it.
“Yes.”
“Good.” I handed her the coffee, careful not to let our fingers touch. “Does your television work?”
I grinned at her. “Probably.”
“Do you mind if we watch a film or something?”
“Sure.” I handed her the remote. She glanced at it and pressed a button. The television lit up, and I watched her face as she flicked through the channels. It was hard to read her expression, but I wasn’t about to start reaching into her thoughts again. I was afraid of what I would detect, and a lot more afraid of what my reaction would be to what I found. I sat there, pretending to watch some romantic comedy, while all I could think of was what it would feel like to touch her.
Rebecca
I got home from school in a complete mess. I glanced in the mirror. My clothes were splattered with blood, but it was my expression that frightened me most. I looked wild-eyed and feverishly excited. No wonder everyone had stared at me at school. I was scary, man. I shook my head at my reflection and stripped off and climbed into the shower. The hot water washed the beguiling smell of blood from my skin, and the familiar soapy scent seemed to wash away the madness sloshing around in my head. I stepped out of the small shower cubicle feeling a lot more balanced than when I had stepped into it. I dressed quickly in jeans and a t-shirt and a thick jumper, and threw a load of washing in the machine. I didn’t want my mother to find my bloodstained clothes and assume that I was the one who had been hurt. Ten minutes later I was ringing the Angus’ doorbell, eagerly anticipating seeing his strong, beautiful face again, and nervous as all hell at the same time. He answered the doorbell in jeans and a white cotton open necked shirt, tall, powerful and dangerous, but strangely gentle too.
“Rebecca.” He seemed pleased to see me and a bit puzzled too. I explained what had happened at school, and he nodded. He seemed impressed that I hadn’t actually bitten Shanice’s neck. Someone who admired my restraint! I was stunned and grateful at the same time.
We watched a film for a few hours. I can’t for the life of me remember what it was about, but I felt I needed some kind of distraction. The cat seemed to enjoy it.
Mark arrived straight after school, still dressed in school uniform and carrying his bag.
“Hey, Sis,” he grinned at me. “You look a lot more, er, civilised than you did this morning!”
I grinned back. “Come say that here!”
“Nah, it’s alright. You got anything to eat here?” he asked Angus, who stood behind him.
“Frozen pizza. They’re in the freezer.” He looked at me over Mark’s shoulder, his eyebrows raised. “You ready for those iron tablets now?” I nodded, and felt my face flushing traitorously. “I’ll get them for you. Mark can heat up the pizza.”
“Excellent. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. Anyone want pizza?”
“Yes, please.” I was suddenly very hungry. Angus tilted his head slightly as if considering something.
“Yes,” he said, and took a small container from a nearby cabinet drawer, and tossed it my way. I caught it one handed, surprised. “Five daily, Rebecca.” I shook the container briskly. There were a lot more than five in there. I nodded, grateful for his confidence in my reliability. Or maybe he was relying on me not wanting to take too many tablets and go berserk. Fair enough.
“Coming up!” Mark disappeared into the kitchen, returning twenty minutes later with three steaming pizzas and a huge smile.
“I have questions,” he announced as
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