Pretty Young Things Read online

  Chelsea nudged Jay gently until his eyes opened. The look in them when he saw her didn’t make Chelsea feel very good, but at least he was still functional enough to recognise her. That was something.

  ‘It’s okay, honey,’ she said. ‘I’m going to get you out of here.’ I hope, she added silently.

  Most of the restraint devices that were used to keep the meat trussed up came from fetish shops. Half an hour in a decent sex shop could provide enough manacles to render Houdini himself helpless. All of the girls wore the odd bit of PVC or rubber now and again, and a few had a much stronger taste for fetish wear. It was a house rule that they had to pick up a few fetters and manacles whenever they went shopping. Mercifully, most of these used latches rather than locks. Chelsea removed the cuffs that held Jared’s hands up behind his back, and slipped an arm around him as she fumbled with the catch holding the chain around his ankles. After 30 or 40 hours hanging upside down like this, it was unlikely he’d still have much circulation in his legs, so he was probably going to be a dead weight. He was wearing quite a heavy pair of boots, though, so perhaps they’d stopped the chain from cutting too deeply into him.

  The lock came free and the chain unravelled from Jared’s ankles. Chelsea grunted as she took his weight. The clanking of the chain wasn’t all that loud, but it sounded like an over-amplified Metallica drum solo to Chelsea’s paranoid ears. She knew she was committed now: she’d never get Jay hung back up again alone.

  ‘We’re leaving,’ Chelsea told him. ‘Don’t make any noise; we have to be quiet.’ She lowered him to the kitchen floor and pulled the gag from his mouth. ‘Do you think you can stand up?’ Belatedly it had occurred to her that he’d have been easier to carry if she’d left him trussed up.

  Chelsea dug a couple of Ibuprofen out of her pocket, and retrieved the glass of water she’d left at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Here, this’ll help.’ Jared choked the tablets down, then sucked up the water with the gusto of a man who’d just crawled out of a desert.

  ‘What the hell is this?’ he asked in a hoarse voice, somewhere between a croak and a rasp. It was still far too loud for Chelsea’s liking, given the circumstances.

  ‘Keep it down!’ Chelsea whispered sharply. ‘It’s a very long story and we don’t have the time for it now. I have to get you out of here before the others get back. If we can’t manage that, we’re fucked. Try to stand up.’

  Chelsea offered Jared her hand and helped him to his feet. He seemed to be able to stand, but his feet were obviously hurting him. ‘What about them?’ he said, looking at the rest of the meat. Chelsea sighed.

  ‘Screw them,’ she said. ‘I’m not bloody Wonder Woman, Jay.’ She paused and tried to gather her thoughts. ‘Look, we need to leave quickly, before anyone misses me or comes down here for a snack. Think you can manage the stairs?’

  ‘I’ll try,’ Jared said. Chelsea tried to ignore his stench as he leaned on her.

  ‘Good,’ she said. ‘It isn’t long until dawn, now. We need to leave before the others get back and bed down for the day. They’re not very good in daylight, but then neither am I.’

  ‘Why the blood sports?’ Jared asked. ‘Have you joined some sort of cult?’

  ‘Feels like it sometimes,’ Chelsea said. ‘I’m leaving it, though. Shut up and lean on me, and you might get out of this alive.’

  Chelsea dragged Jared up into the kitchen, put her hand over his mouth and listened. Somebody was upstairs. The television in the living room was playing an enthusiastic but slightly erratic rendition of ‘Lady Marmalade’, so Lucinda was watching Moulin Rouge again. That was a stroke of luck. It was a noisy film and would keep her busy while she wasn’t indulging in foreplay with an electric shaver like the other two. Michelle shaved everything every other day, but Rachael shaved herself only at irregular intervals, and so had to trim her crotch with an electric trimmer before the hair was short enough to use a razor on. She claimed that she enjoyed the itching and burning sensation her hair gave her while it was growing back. Chelsea had never been able to understand that one. Everyone left in the house was busy, but going out of the front door would still be a little too noisy, Chelsea decided.

  ‘I’m going to drop you out of the window,’ she said. ‘It’ll make less noise than the locks on either of the doors. Get out of the way once you’re out so I can follow.’ Jay nodded.

  The kitchen window was already ajar, and the shutter was rolled up. As soon as she’d seen it, Chelsea had doubted she’d be leaving the house by any other route. Chelsea pushed it the rest of the way open, then hauled Jared through it. She felt his posture stiffen as she picked him up and pushed him through the gap. Still, he hadn’t seen her in over five years, so he was just going to have to deal with the fact that she’d changed a little. She wasn’t all that much stronger than she used to be, in any case. Coral always claimed it was because the muscle tissue was so highly oxygenated; a statement that had most of her housemates making affirmative noises without comprehending a single word. Chelsea suspected that Coral was just parroting something she’d been told and didn’t understand all that thoroughly herself.

  Chelsea climbed up onto the worktop, then jumped through the window after Jay. She pulled the window closed behind her, then relaxed a little. Some progress had been made at last. She’d been worrying that Rachael and Michelle might have moved their revels from the bathroom to a room that faced out onto the garden, but Rachael was obviously insisting that Michelle took her time, which suited Chelsea fine.

  The windows at the back of the house were all dark, which was also good. She’d fretted that somebody upstairs might see them. ‘Right,’ Chelsea said. ‘Now we can just walk around to the front of the house and pinch a car. Nobody’s using the BMW, and I’ve got the keys here.’

  Chelsea’s slightly smug sense of achievement evaporated as she heard a car draw up at the front. Either it was Coral and Hayley or Sophie, Rowena and Nicola. Chelsea didn’t feel that messing with either group was a good idea, but removed a razor from her jacket pocket just in case.

  ‘We’re in trouble,’ she whispered to Jay. ‘In fact, we could well be completely and utterly fucked. I hope those tablets are starting to work, because I’m not going to be able to carry you if there’s trouble. Follow me and keep it quiet.’

  It might still be possible to grab the car after her housemates had made their way inside. Chelsea could do it easily herself, but being accompanied by a groggy and half-dead ex-boyfriend, who was something of a klutz even when he hadn’t spent a couple of nights hanging upside-down, would be trickier.

  Still, explaining to Coral what she’d been up to would be trickier still, and almost certainly very painful as well. Chelsea started down the path around the side of the house. Behind her, she heard Jared staggering after her, not really managing to be all that quiet. At least they were walking on grass and paving stones, rather than gravel. That was something. Chelsea found herself wishing that Coral kept a gun in the house. If she’d been able to shoot Rachael, Michelle and Lucinda as soon as Hayley and Coral had left, leaving would have been simplicity itself, even if she’d have been dragging Jared’s dead weight around. An evil thought occurred to her as she pondered the situation. In the absence of any other option, she decided that she might as well give it a go. Even if she fucked it up, which wasn’t entirely unlikely, she’d probably get killed quickly. That would be preferable to Coral taking out a tantrum on her.

  The timing was very nearly perfect. Sophie was standing on the doorstep and inserting her key in the lock as Chelsea reached the corner of the house. The Audi was on the driveway, with Rowena in the driver’s seat and Nicola beside her, and the garden gates were still open behind it. Chelsea held Jay to her tightly and hissed in his ear.

  ‘There’s only three of them. Make for the gates and the road. You won’t get there, but you might be able to attract their attention away from me
.’ Chelsea squeezed the rancid front of his jeans until he yelled, then shoved him, hard, in the direction of the gates. Then she stepped back out of view, opened up her razor and concealed the hand that was holding it in her pocket. She didn’t particularly want to hurt any of the girls, but she’d certainly prefer that to any of the girls hurting her. Needs must as the devil drives, as Coral always said.

  Sophie was off the doorstep and after Jared already: Rowena and Nicola were starting to react, scrambling out of the Audi and after Jay themselves, leaving the engine running. Chelsea let them catch up with Jay, then sidled around to the Audi while their attention was diverted. The driver’s side door was still ajar, so she didn’t make any noise getting in or slinging her bag in the back. Once she was behind the wheel, she reversed through the knot of vampires at the best speed she could get up to. She hoped she hadn’t hit Jay doing so, but if she had, he’d probably be better off in the long run than if she left him with them.

  Some part of the car winged Sophie hard enough to knock her over, which was good, but she fell away to one side, so the car didn’t roll over any part of her and put her out of the fight for good. She’d be back on her feet in a minute, and probably furious. The other girls both got out of the way. Chelsea swung her ankles around from the pedals and kicked the passenger door open as hard as she could at Rowena, who was hurtling towards her at a terrifying speed. Chelsea had been aiming for Rowena’s midriff, but Rowena stumbled or tripped and the door slammed into her face with a sickening crunch. Rowena’s face dissolved into a spray of shattered teeth and blood, and she collapsed with her jaw twisted out of shape. It looked like the door had hit the point of her chin, rather than her forehead, but it’d still keep her out of the way for a while. Given that Rowena had taken karate classes before becoming one of the undead, that suited Chelsea just fine.

  Chelsea leaned out of the open door, grabbed hold of Jared with both hands and dragged him into the passenger seat. She didn’t seem to have hit him, which was lucky. Nicola was at the front door of the house, raising a hue and cry already, and Sophie was straightening up, looking at Chelsea with an unpleasant expression. Sophie was a good three inches taller and slightly heavier than Chelsea, and was a lot faster and stronger. Plus, she had never liked Chelsea very much. Chelsea really didn’t want to mess with Sophie if she could possibly avoid it. Rowena was struggling to her feet as well, her nose smeared all over her face, her jaw canted at an odd angle and murder in her eyes. It was definitely time to leave. Chelsea locked the doors and gunned the car down the driveway and onto the road, leaving a wing mirror in Sophie’s hand. Sophie managed to get out of the way, this time.

  The wing mirror slammed into the rear window and bounced off as the Audi shot through the gates. Chelsea had the keys to the Beemer in her pocket, so the girls wouldn’t have any transport until Coral got back with the Saab, which was unlikely to be all that much later at this sort of time. A short way down the road, Chelsea pulled into the pavement, wound down her window and tossed the BMW’s keys over a hedge into somebody’s front garden. Then she turned off the CD player, which was playing the new Gorillaz album, and cleared her throat, wondering what to say. Her eyes flickered over the stunned-looking Jay for a second or two before she turned her attention back to the road and pulled out again.

  ‘How are you doing?’ Chelsea asked.

  Jay shrugged. ‘Wonderful,’ he said drily.

  ‘Want me to take you to casualty? You don’t look that good.’

  ‘I have a doctor, sort of. Just get me home and I’ll phone him. It’ll probably be a lot less complicated than explaining what’s happened to me since yesterday evening.’

  Chelsea dug her mobile out of her jacket. ‘Use this to talk to him,’ she said, ‘then throw it out of the window when you’re done with it. You’re still in that dump in Salford?’

  ‘Yeah. Where have you been for the last five years, Chelsea? Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t dead?’

  ‘It’s a long story,’ Chelsea said. ‘And I’m not completely sure that I’m not dead.’

  ‘So what’s the story with your housemates?’

  Chelsea shrugged. ‘A long one. What else?’

  Jay shut up, and started dialling.

  3: Sunday Morning

  By the time they reached Jay’s flat, dawn had already broken. Chelsea was very glad she didn’t have to drive any further. Her eyes hurt abominably, even with the sunglasses. It felt like somebody was stuffing razor blades under her eyelids.

  Jay didn’t look all that good either. A tall, gangly man with a beard was already waiting for them outside the building, and looked at them dourly as the car pulled up and they staggered out.

  ‘What the hell happened to you?’ he asked Jay. Jay shrugged and dug his keys out of his pocket. The key-ring had been stuffed into the watch pocket of his jeans and so hadn’t fallen out when he’d been chained upside-down. Chelsea thought it was about time they had some luck.

  ‘I spent most of last night being cut so people could drink my blood,’ he said.

  ‘I’ve warned you about hanging out with goths,’ Jay’s friend said. His tone was probably supposed to be dry, but it struck Chelsea more as being snide.

  Chelsea interrupted the conversation. ‘Can we continue this inside?’

  The door clicked open. ‘Good idea,’ Jay said. ‘After you, Chelsea. Len, this is Chelsea. Chelsea, this is Leonard.’ Chelsea nodded to Leonard, then rushed into the flat. The curtains were still closed, so she felt a bit more comfortable in there. The others followed and Jay shut the door after them.

  ‘We should get rid of that car,’ Chelsea said.

  ‘I’ll do that next,’ Jared promised. ‘I want to get a shower and see if Len can do anything for these cuts.’

  ‘Some of them look nasty,’ Leonard said. Chelsea wasn’t all that taken with him. ‘Get cleaned up and I’ll take a proper look at them. They may need suturing.’

  ‘You’re a doctor?’ Chelsea asked.

  Leonard shrugged. ‘Struck off,’ he admitted. ‘Are either of you going to tell me what’s been going on?’

  ‘No,’ Chelsea said ‘I’m not. I’ve had a stressful night, I haven’t had much sleep for the last couple of days and my eyes hurt, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to crawl into a bed and collapse. Remind him to get rid of that car once he gets out of the shower, will you?’

  Leonard looked thoughtful about that. ‘Leave me the keys and I’ll get rid of it. It’s a bit banged up, but there’s a guy I know who can probably strip it for spare parts.’

  Chelsea dropped the keys on the table. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t mention it,’ Leonard said.

  Chelsea was feeling increasingly rough. Even with the curtains drawn, she could tell it was getting lighter outside. She could feel the mounting pressure of the solar winds building on the curtains.

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ the one-time doctor said, and she tried not to snigger.

  ‘I’m sure I’m not,’ Chelsea replied. ‘I’ll be fine once I’ve slept.’ She was starting to feel unsteady and her feet were hurting again. If she didn’t lie down soon, she’d probably get the split lip and the black eye back as well. She turned and started for the bedroom door. Then the curtains fluttered in a sudden breeze, and Chelsea’s head was filled with light and pain. Her vision broke up into jigsaw fragments and she pitched forwards. Her head met the doorframe with a crack, and she was vaguely aware of being held upright as blood congealed on her temple.

  Chelsea felt herself being half dragged and half carried into the bedroom. Something brushed the sore side of her forehead, and she pulled her head under the bed sheets away from it. Her wrist was gripped firmly and something stung the back of her hand as her fraying central nervous system began to shut itself down for the day.

  Leonard locked the bar
rel of the syringe and capped it as he left the bedroom. It was full of a glistening purple fluid that didn’t have any business inhabiting anybody’s veins that he could see. He thought that it might be worth calling in a few favours to get the stuff analysed. Jay’s ex seemed a very strange girl. She’d attracted his curiosity. And Leonard could be very curious.

  Jay winced again and hissed through his teeth. Leonard paused in suturing the cut he was trying to close. ‘Sorry,’ Leonard said. ‘So has the sex life improved, then?’

  ‘Another crack about blood sports?’ Jared said. Leonard closed the wound.

  ‘Just interested,’ Leonard said. ‘This is the girl who vanished back on Millennium eve?’

  Jay reached for a t-shirt and pulled it on. He was a little narked that the one he’d been wearing the other night was now reduced to duster status, but he was probably getting a bit old for skater gear anyway. He’d have been better off if the door staff at Yarbro’s hadn’t decided that his dress sense was just about adequate to allow his passage through their hallowed portals. On the other hand, he wouldn’t have met Chelsea again. Jay wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that at this point.

  He had, to be brutally honest with himself, gone to Yarbro’s, and then back to the house in Faulchion Close, on the pull. Getting dumped by Fiona had struck him with the urge to pick up something (in fact, he’d have settled for pretty much anything with a pulse and a pussy once the couple of Es he’d taken had kicked in) and fuck it vigorously. The fact that Sophie had been very attractive, and had appeared to be thinking with the contents of her panties rather than those of her skull, had been a lot more than he’d hoped for, even on the ecstasy. Jay wouldn’t even have ruled out being tied up by a houseful of women if she’d mentioned the possibility, though he would definitely have drawn the line at the razors. Mercifully, Chelsea hadn’t said anything about this while she was pulling his fat out of the fire, though the subject hadn’t really come up. Still, she had some explaining of her own to do.