"Why would we try to kill ourselves?" I asked, numb.

  "Because your life was shit. Aunty had more than enough of feeling so alone and disappointed with the world, and you'd just killed a guy. Another guy, and were guilty beyond belief."

  "What guy? I've killed loads. Never made me want to kill myself."

  "Your father, alright," snapped Hanna before putting her hand over her mouth.

  "Not supposed to say," said Boris, staring reproachfully at Hanna.

  "I know. Sorry. But Spencer, he wasn't a good man, very bad indeed. You found out who he was, you tracked him down. He was this seriously nasty man so you fought, you killed him. You found out who you are, what you are, and then you killed him."

  "Who am I? What did I find out?"

  "You never said. You told us a little, we found out the rest ourselves, you know we have the means, but you wouldn't tell, and you were so sad, the both of you, that we took away the memories. Guess we should have filled in the blanks a little better. Sorry."

  "Great, that's just great. All my life I've wondered who I was, what the deal really was, and now I discover I know but I don't know. That I found out and destroyed the only person who could tell me the truth. Fuck!"

  "Sorry. But look on the bright side," Hanna said with a smile. "You have us, right?"

  I almost got angry, but then I smiled and I hugged her tight. I pulled the others in too and we all felt the bond, the true closeness only people like us, who had been through what we had, could feel for each other.

  I may have lost something, but I'd gained so much more. I knew Hanna had more to tell, but somehow for the first time in my life I wasn't interested. I had what I wanted right here, right now.

  "Let's kick the shit out of a drug-dealing vampire," whooped Mimi to really cheer us all up.

  We shouted our agreement and turned to find the pink-limbed freak standing five feet away and grinning. He didn't look high. He looked seriously annoyed.

  Can't really blame him.

  We Done a Bad Thing

  "Bugger," groaned Mimi.

  We all murmured our agreement. Damn vampires, they were way too much trouble.

  "Who tied him up?" I asked, glaring at the others.

  "We all did. Everyone helped," said Aunty.

  "That's the problem," I told them. "Too many cooks."

  "Boris like cooks," the big guy drooled, a faraway look in his eyes.

  "Course you do, my meaty sidekick," I told him, patting him on the back.

  "Said we should have killed him," sighed Hanna, looking bored as she inspected a fingernail and rubbed it on her vest.

  "How would we get any intel then?" scolded Aunty. "We needed him alive to track down the Vamp2 suppliers. He's no good to us dead."

  "And now he's high and more powerful than ever. Even if he does have silly shiny limbs," countered Hanna.

  "Hehe, he does look kinda funny, doesn't he?" I laughed. "Like a kid's drawing with those skinny pink arms and legs."

  We all laughed.

  "You people really are a bunch of fools, aren't you? Standing here talking and laughing while I grow more powerful by the second. Is there something wrong with you?" He sneered as his body grow thicker and stronger while we watched.

  "Is there something wrong with you?" I countered. That'd teach him.

  "No, not really. Apart from being hungry for the flesh of idiots."

  "Well, we're hungry for the flesh of idiots too. So, nah." I smiled at my comeback. Bet he felt foolish now.

  "You are beyond contempt, aren't you? Idiots."

  "Takes one to know one." I paused a moment to think about that. "Um, not that we are idiots. But you are. So, um, yeah, GET HIM!" I shouted, hoping the others would charge and he'd be captured once again.

  "Now?" asked Mimi.

  "Boris get him. Tell Boris when."

  I sighed. "You guys are killing me here. When I say get him, that means charge right that moment. No pausing."

  "You should have said," said Hanna.

  "Okay, let's try this again. Just wait a moment, you naughty vampire. We're gonna get you and get you good. You're gonna tell us everything you know and then we'll—"

  Weirdly, he didn't hang around to let me finish telling him how we would beat the crap out of him and make him do our bidding. He just launched, faster than my awesome arrows, and grabbed me by the waist. We careened back onto the highly polished floor and slid until I cracked my head on the wall beneath massive Georgian windows giving a lovely view over the gardens.

  "Just how do you manage to keep the lawn so neat? I mean, it's been so wet."

  "My subordinates do not wish to displease me," he hissed, uncomfortably close to my ear.

  "Gotta get me some of those," I told him, frowning at my compadres only now beginning to move into action.

  Vicious fangs snapped at my neck, so I took the opportunity to poke him in the eye. "Ew, squishy." He recoiled a fraction, giving me the chance to get a short punch but without much power. He didn't even feel it. He snapped at my neck again, but I kneed him in the crown jewels and even vampires feel it down there. As he gasped, I shucked sideways to get him off then hammered down a mighty blow right into his stupid snarling face.

  He was fast, too fast, and all I hit was nice floor. It bloody well hurt.

  The old man of nefarious nature did one of those cool flips to get to his feet. "Nice," I whistled.

  "Thanks," he snarled, then sprang at me.

  I was ready this time, and sidestepped. He was stopped dead in his tracks by the mighty forearm of Boris the Massive. The vampire's head snapped weirdly and the room went silent as he stood there, head lolling to one side, all wobbly like he was one of those stretch dolls.

  "Dude, you feeling okay?" I asked as we regrouped and peered at him. From a safe distance.

  "Fine," he slurred. "Why do you ask?" He snarled, but it wasn't very scary, not with his head rolling around sideways.

  "It's your, you know, your neck. It's broken. Your head's all floppy."

  "I'm invincible. I have lived five hundred years, killed thousands of you pathetic humans, enslaved the lower vampire classes through drugs and power and wealth and sex and have control over many. You will kneel before me and—"

  "NO," I screamed, as Hanna surged forward, vest off so she could use her flaming sword when invisible, although she had forgotten about the rest of her clothes. It stopped a hair's breadth from his neck. She turned to me, frowning. "No?"

  "No, we need him, remember?"

  "Oh, yeah. Right." Hanna slid the sword back into nowhere and it vanished. She unhooked her vest from where it was tucked into her leggings and slid it back on.

  "Nice, very nice," slurred the vampire, ogling Hanna.

  "Please can I kill him?" she pleaded.

  "Later, maybe. Not now."

  "You really do talk too much. Haha," laughed the vampire as he cricked his neck and bones realigned and his head turned normally.

  "He's right, you know, we have to have words about this. We could have tied him up by now." I scowled at the others.

  "Thought you were the one in charge?" countered Mimi. "Maybe you should have given the order rather than chatting."

  "I like to let you guys do your own thing. I'm a modern boss, don't want to belittle you and… Damn, there you go again. Rabbiting on."

  "You were the one talking," shouted Aunty. "Get on with it, Spencer. This is important."

  She was right, this was no time for messing about. We had to do this, we had to save these poor souls being used and abused by the vampires. And for what? Money? No, more than that. Power. To keep their own kind in line, that's what Vamp2 was all about. Control. It's always about control.

  As the panthers snapped at the vampires ankles, I dashed right then weaved left as he kicked one, hurled the other right at me, and ducked before grabbing the edge of the table to stop my momentum.

  "Boris, let's roll," I shouted.

  Impossibly, incredibly, amazingly, the big guy nodded his understanding and thundered across the floor, a veritable boulder of human flesh intent on vampire destruction. He bowled into the snapping neck-biter and sent him crashing into the table.

  Not wasting the opportunity, I swept the broken vials, liquid, and stoppers with my forearm right into the roaring mouth of the truly pissed-off vampire, his chin resting conveniently on the table. The reaction was instant. He sighed with ecstasy, swallowed the lot, glass and all, and even as shards worked their way out of this throat his eyes rolled up and he entered drug-induced nirvana once more.

  "This time," I panted, "just let Mimi tie him up. Mimi, care to do the honors?"

  "You betcha, boss," she barked, saluting and smiling. I couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not. My guess was yes, probably.

  In less than a minute flat, the vampire was tied up so damn tight the wire Mimi used had cut off most of the circulation and was biting deeply into his lovely glowing flesh.

  Time to get some answers.

  How to Make a Vampire Talk

  "Cut out his tongue," I ordered Hanna.

  Hanna smiled wickedly then reached over her shoulder to release her epic sword. "Just use this," I told her, handing over one of Aunty's large but nevertheless much more suitable blades.

  "Oh, gotcha." She took the knife then stepped up to the vampire who so far had given us absolutely zero intel on who the source of Vamp2 was.

  "If you do that, I won't be able to tell you anything," he said in his condescending manner that was really getting on my tits.

  "We'll see." I nodded to Hanna.

  She stepped up, and with the help of Boris prizing his jaw open, sliced the tip of his tongue clean off. The wound hissed and the vampire hissed and the cats hissed and then everyone was hissing.

  "Enough with the hissing!" I shouted. "It's really annoying."

  Everyone stopped hissing.

  "Who's the supplier?" He shook his head as the wound sealed over and a teeny-tiny tongue-tip began to grow. I swear it acted like it was giving us the finger.

  When it was back to full size, he laughed and said, "I'm a vampire. You can't possibly believe this will work. It grows back, haha, it all grows back."

  "Then you have nothing to worry about," I told him. "Again, Hanna. And again and again and again. We'll see how well you recover after the hundredth time." I saw the look in his eyes, just for a second. The fear, the worry. But then it was gone, replaced with the usual superior look of contempt.

  I was knackered just from watching. It went on for fifteen minutes, which may not sound like long, but when each of those minutes sees a tongue cut off four or five times, trust me, it feels like a lifetime. Hanna was sweating, which was beyond unusual as she always kept her cool. The others had turned away, unable to watch, and the vampire, well, he was beginning to look worried.

  All I could hope for was that my hunch was correct. Hanna asked him again if he was ready to talk, but he shook his head and she sliced off his tongue yet again. Boris didn't even need to help any longer, the guy's will was almost broken, his energy was certainly gone. He was putting all he had left into recovering, but it wasn't enough, not quite. I saw the slight deformity, the irregularities that appeared as the scar tissue built.

  After ten more minutes I was confident he'd had enough.

  "Hanna, that's enough." She nodded and backed away. The others turned back to the scene of my inglorious crime. "You ready to talk now? I know what happens eventually, and trust me, this can go on all night. Maybe Hanna will even chop off something a little more personal?" I looked at his crotch. He cowered away and sank to the ground in the middle of the room.

  "You're a monster," he hissed, or should I say lisped. His tongue was now a mass of scar tissue.

  "I knew you'd regenerate, but wasn't sure how many times before it began to go wrong. One tiny little error in the cells or DNA or however you recover, and things start to go wonky, don't they? And the more they go wrong the more it goes funky after that. You may be able to get your tongue back to normal in a few days, but maybe not. And it will get worse, trust me. So, ready to talk?"

  "What kind of a man are you that would do this?"

  "He's a man who wants answers," shouted Aunty as she moved forward to do something stupid to him.

  "Aunty, step away. I've got this," I warned her. She complied, but grudgingly.

  "I'll talk," he whispered, "but it won't do you any good. You're dead, all of you. You hear me?" he shouted hoarsely.

  "We'll take our chances. Now, let's have that chat we've all been waiting for, shall we?"

  We had a chat. Aunty even found biscuits. Posh ones, in individual wrappers, with dark chocolate.

  I didn't offer him even one.

  Reflections

  After it was over, and he'd told us what we wanted to know, or at least what we needed to know, Aunty stepped up to him as casual as you like and went to work. She took her time, and slowly and methodically sawed through his neck with her knife. Judging by the sickening screams, the ridiculous amount of blood, the hissing and steaming of his wound as it tried to heal, he knew for damn sure that this was it, the end of his life.

  When she was done, bloodied and breathing hard, she slapped his cheek and his head toppled from his shoulders. The body slumped sideways, the head rolled a few times before coming to a stop, staring at us in accusation. A tear fell from his eye.

  I'd had enough so left the room and stepped outside, over the corpses.

  An owl hooted, the moon was bright, the air crisp and cool. I could see my breath as I tried to calm my frayed nerves.

  We might not have been as bad as him, but we weren't far off. When does doing the right thing make you as bad as the bad guys? How much is justified, and who's to choose anyway? All questions I'd asked before. There were no answers, only what you could live with. I could live with this, but the cost was high, much higher than usual.

  We were not good people. But would good people be able to stop this? Or make a dent in it at least? No, because good people would never get answers from vampires, would be dead before they even began. We had to be nasty in order to be nice.

  That's what I told myself, what I always did. I had to stare at this face every day in the mirror, much as I often hated to.

  Selfish as it may seem, even my conflict over what had happened inside, and let's face it, the dude really did deserve it, paled next to the revelations from Hanna and Boris. It was so confusing. I was sure I remembered first meeting Boris, how he'd come to us, and I definitely had vivid memories of meeting Aunty, our first encounter at the commune, her sadness, how she seemed a misfit like me, and now I was being told it was all a lie. That it never happened? It was too much to take in.

  Surely we wouldn't have attempted suicide? Neither of us seemed the type, I certainly never felt like doing myself in, no matter how bad it got. Okay, now and then, but I'd never actually do it. I didn't have the nerve, the resolve, never sank quite that low. Could it really have happened? Guess under the right circumstances anyone is capable of such a sad act. If I really had met my father? Got the answers I still searched for? Knew my past, the truth of why I was what I was, and he'd done something so despicable that I had to kill him? Maybe that would be enough, more than enough, to tip me over the edge.

  What had I discovered? Who was I? Now I would never know. Maybe the past was best left buried deep and forgotten about.

  Maybe.

  "Goddamitt!"

  "I know how you feel."

  "Hell, Aunty, you scared the life outta me." I turned and smiled at her as she joined me, staring out at the silent night. "You look sad. You okay? I apologize. I was feeling a bit sorry for myself. You must be hurting too. Some story, eh? Some bloody night."

  "It's in the past, Freaky Spencer. It's long gone. We aren't those people. We don't have those memories. Maybe they did us a favor."

  "Maybe. But I don't like the thought of being messed with. Of having memories taken. Now I'll never know who I am."

  "You're my friend, our friend. You're the man you are today, not yesterday. We all change, we all forget things. Let it lie. Be who you are now, nothing else."

  I turned to my friend, my best friend, and said, "Wise words, old lady."

  Aunty hit me on the shoulder, then she hugged me tight and we both cried. For ourselves, for each other, for this messed-up world we tried our best to wade through without getting covered in shit.

  Mostly, we failed to stay clean. But we had each other, and right now that truly was enough.

  Rest for the Wicked

  We stood together as a group on the front lawn and watched as the beautiful building burned. I regretted the fire. After all, it wasn't the building's fault that it housed such sleaze balls. All that history, all that work, that beauty, gone up in flames.

  Aunty had insisted though. Sends them a message, she had said, and she was right about that. But what kind of message? Was it the right one? Wouldn't it have been better to leave everything intact so they could see what we'd done? Show the bastards in charge that it was the Vamp2 we objected to, not nice houses?

  I guess they'd figure it out. After all, there was plenty of carnage outside to prove what had gone down. Oh, and Aunty left a note too, just in case there was any doubt.

  "We're coming to get you," I read, as I peered over her shoulder at the note she was scribbling, Boris offering up his broad back as a very substantial writing surface.

  "Just so they know," she said.

  I kissed the top of her head. "Okay, Aunty, we done here?" I asked, beyond exhausted. Tired out by the protracted night, but more by the terrible deeds Freaky Finders had performed and the revelations about both our pasts.

  "We're done." We turned from the fire and walked to the gate where Aunty fixed the note in place. She even put it in a ziplock bag so it wouldn't get wet. I mean, who carries ziplock bags around with them? Guess at least one person did.