The Iron in Blood by Jenny Doe (primary phonics .txt) 📕

“Let’s take it off!” Mark sounded eager. I pulled a face at him.

“I don’t see any plaster saws hanging around here, do you?” I was strangely reluctant to have any definitive proof that I was indeed different from other people.

Angus grinned suddenly and stood up. He walked over to where I still lay on the large sofa, leaned over, grasped the lower edge of my cast with both hands, and simply tore it apart, right down the centre. I lay dead still, mesmerised by the strength of this man, and slightly concerned that he could rip my leg off by accident if I moved. I glanced down at my exposed knee and gasped. It looked completely normal. The abrasions that had been splattered over the outer surface of my knee had disappeared. There was no bruising, and no swelling. I flexed my knee. No pain, either. Angus lifted the mutilated cast off the sofa and I swung my leg over the side, and stood up in one easy movement.

“Cool!” said Mark.

“Yeah, cool,” I agreed.

Angus

She took it better than I thought she would. They both did. I was really starting to like Mark with his bizarre sense of humour, and his unconventional thinking. And my cat was clearly infatuated with him. I was grateful to him too, for helping Rebecca come to terms with her new life so smoothly. His easy acceptance of the situation had been of enormous benefit to her. I would have to thank him properly someday soon.

“Rebecca. Mark.” They looked at me expectantly, waiting for the next revelation. They were still only children, and I suddenly felt guilty for involving them in this complicated situation. And then I remembered how Rebecca had looked when she was dying and all my remorse vanished. I hadn’t involved them. Genetics had.

“You can’t tell anyone about this. Ever. Not your mother or your brother or your best friends. Nobody. Ever.” I paused, letting it sink in.

“Because if you tell anyone about this, one of two things will happen. The first option is the likeliest – they will laugh at you, and think you are either making it up, or they will dose you up on antipsychotics. The second scenario, where someone actually believes you, will be far worse. You will be tested and experimented on, the media will get involved, and you will be labelled a freak, and held up for public scrutiny and derision. And I will be gone then, and you will be alone.” I saw Rebecca flinch slightly, and I understood how she felt. The existence of my brothers had made it so much easier for me, to accept what I was, because I was not alone. Rebecca would fear being left alone. Good. I wanted her to fear it. It might help protect her.

Mark was nodding seriously. I reached out and gently touched his mind, felt the determination, and the love for his sister, and I knew he would never reveal our secret. I shied away from touching Rebecca’s mind. There was too much at risk. I didn’t want to lose control with her, and if I detected the slightest hint of that same desire I had felt the night before on the surface of her thoughts, I might surrender to that raw, overpowering craving. Cold showers wouldn’t work for me.

“But my cast is gone. How can I explain that? I have to go to school tomorrow, and Mum…”

“That we can fix,” I said.

“Really?” Mark was eyeing the mangled cast on the floor. “I’d like to see that!”

I grinned at him. “Coffee first. Then we call Fergus. I think we could get away with a knee brace, and you can tell everyone that you fell in the bath and the cast got wet and had to be removed.” I looked at Rebecca, and she blushed.

“She’s a rubbish liar,” said Mark.

“I am,” Rebecca nodded, embarrassed. “Everyone knows when I am lying, and nobody ever believes me.” She looked forlorn.

“You’re going to have to try.” I smiled encouragingly at her, and she blushed again.

“Mark, let me teach you how to work the coffee machine. I need to phone my brother.”

I showed Mark around the kitchen, and while he enthused about the espresso machine and clattered about, I dialled Fergus on my iphone.

“Like your new house?” his voice was reassuringly familiar.

“Very nice, Fergus. I need a knee brace.”

I heard the exaggerated sigh on the other end. “What size?” Fergus never bothered querying my requests, no matter how strange they might seem. I was grateful.

“I’m not sure. Big enough to fit a seventeen year old girl, height maybe five-seven.”

“Is it for Rebecca Harding?”

“Yes.”

“Is she there?”

“Yes.”

“Have you told her?”

“Yes.”

“Can we talk to her?”

“Sure.” I switched the iphone to speaker mode, and carried it through to the sitting room. “My brothers want to say hi, Rebecca.”

Her eyes widened slightly, but she nodded, and spoke nervously towards the mobile. “Hello?”

“Hello Rebecca,” Fergus almost purred.

I mouthed Fergus’ name and she nodded. “Hello Fergus.”

“Welcome to the family, Rebecca.” Marcus sounded enthusiastic.

“Thanks.” Rebecca was starting to look a bit bewildered, so I interrupted. “Knee brace, Fergus. As soon as possible.”

“An hour, brother. Bye Rebecca!” Click. I looked up at Rebecca and smiled. She smiled back but she looked confused, and apprehensive. It was beginning to dawn on her properly now. I wanted to hold her, and reassure her that it was all going to be OK, but I was afraid of touching her. And then her face started to crumble, and tears welled up in her eyes.

Rebecca

It was too much. I’d apparently almost died today, and now I had to adapt to the idea that I was fundamentally and wierdly different from everyone around me. I felt unbelievably isolated and lonely. And those two disembodied voices confirming the madness. I wanted to cry, to curl up somewhere where this was not my reality. I felt those weak pathetic tears forming in my eyes and I tried to turn away so Angus wouldn’t see me crying, but next thing he was there, lifting my chin with his long fingers, and smiling down at me, and enfolding me in his arms, and all my fears evaporated. I felt safe. I buried my face in the fabric of his shirt, snuggling against his shoulder, and wound my arms around his warm fragrant body. I felt his body shudder, and heard the sharp intake of his breath, and heard the rapid thudding of his heart against my ear.

His fingers found my chin again and tilted my face upwards. I looked up into glittering eyes black as night. And then his mouth was on my mouth, his lips moving urgently against mine. I closed my eyes and surrendered to the sensation that flooded through me. His free arm tightened around my waist, and pulled me against his chest. I felt the strength and tension of his body through the thin fabric of his shirt.

The sound of Mark clearing his throat brought me back down to earth, and I pulled away, blushing furiously. Angus whirled around towards my brother, and almost snarled at him. His eyes flashed briefly, and then he closed them, clenching his jaw and breathing deeply.

“Coffee, remember?” Mark sounded nervous.

“Thanks, Mark.” Angus’ voice was level and controlled, his eyes still closed.

I sat down and Mark handed me a tiny cup of black, greasy looking liquid. I glanced towards Angus, and saw that he was still standing, his eyes now open, and that he too had a cup in his hand. His eyes were brown again, and he was frowning slightly.

“Are you planning on staying up the whole night?” he asked my brother.

“It looks a bit strong, doesn’t it,” Mark agreed. “I followed the instructions.”

“Fair enough,” Angus grinned at him, and Mark suddenly looked very relieved.

“Man, I thought you were going to bite my head off there.”

“It crossed my mind.” Angus admitted.

“That’s the first time you actually looked like a vampire,” Mark continued. “Cool.”

“Is that what I am, what we are?” I interrupted him. “Vampires? I thought you were joking, Mark.” I looked at Angus for confirmation. He hesitated slightly, then nodded.

“Historically, yes, we would have been called vampires.”

“But where are the fangs?” Mark wanted to know.

“No fangs.”

“So how did you puncture peoples’ jugulars?”

“Bite through them. And it’s not the jugular we went for, but the carotid. The jugular is a vein, and carries slow blood to the heart, but the carotid is the large artery that you can feel pulsating in your neck, here,” he pointed to his own throat, “and that’s much faster, and the blood tastes better too.” I didn’t want to know how he knew something like that.

“I don’t need to drink blood now, do I?” I heard the edge of panic in my own voice.

“No. That’s what the iron tablets are for. But we need to be careful how much we give you. Marcus reckons we should start at five a day, and work up slowly from there. Too little, and you could start to feel weak again, but too much can make you a bit mad. Too much power, too much sensory input, it can all become very overwhelming very quickly. Reality becomes a distant memory.”

“Oh goody,” I muttered. This was getting better and better. Not only was I some sort of metabolic oddity, but there was a good chance I could become insane too.

Angus smiled at me again. “It’s OK, we’ll help you through it all. I’ll protect you,” he added in a softer voice. There was that dizziness again. I closed my eyes and nodded, remembering the feel of his body against mine.

“Are you immortal too?” Mark was on a roll now, his eyes wide with excitement.

“No, we just live a bit longer than normal humans.”

“How long?”

“Two hundred and fifty years, give or take a few.”

“How old are you?”

Angus hesitated and glanced sideways at me. “I was born in 1951.”

“But you look so young!”

“We all do. It’s got something to do with our ability to regenerate cells. I will look like this until I die.”

“What about garlic and crosses and wooden stakes?”

“All myth.” Angus was laughing now. “The only way to kill us - and this is not something we’ve ever tried to prove, obviously - is probably to decapitate us. And maybe if our hearts stop beating, that could do it too. Other than that we’re pretty tough.”

I sat quietly, trying to drink my coffee and take it all in. The coffee was strong; the caffeine rush hit, and I felt better suddenly. This potential change in my life was really not all that frightening. Nobody except Angus and Mark would know about it, and I could carry on as normal, living a normal life. I glanced over at Angus again, and it suddenly occurred to me that maybe I didn’t want to live a normal life. I had a choice, now, one that I would never even have contemplated 24 hours ago. I wondered idly which life I would end up choosing. What I didn’t know was that the choice had already been made, and not by me either.

Angus

The knee brace arrived within fifty minutes of my call to Fergus. Mark was sitting against the wall again, and the kitten was once again draped over his lap. I had pointed out to him that he was welcome to sit on the furniture, and that I wouldn’t bite him, but he said he preferred the floor, and so did the cat. Rebecca sat curled in the far corner of the big three seater. I gave the brace to her, and suggested she try it on. It was a bit big, but it would do.

“What should I say to Mum tonight?” she asked, fastening Velcro straps. “She’ll never believe me if I tell her I fell in the bath. And how did I get the cast off? What if she asks me?”

“I think you should let me do the talking,” Mark interjected.

“I agree with your brother,” I said. “Whenever you