Bad Timing

By Nicky Peacock

“You know now that monsters are real. Whether they have recently risen to reach for your flesh, or have chosen now to step from the shadows; you are surrounded by them. You also know that I am one too, but I’m all you’ve got and time is running out...”

There’s no rest for the wicked, especially in a zombie apocalypse. Britannia has used every vampire skill at her disposal to keep those she cares for safe, but with old enemies and unseen adversaries moving against her, she will have to push herself to both her physical and ethical limits to survive. Britannia is changing, but will it be for the better?

Please note this is the second book in a series that should be read in order.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Teen
• Release date: Jan 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781772336382

Book preview

Published by Evernight Teen ® at Smashwords

www.evernightteen.com

Copyright© 2015 Nicky Peacock

ISBN: 978-1-77233-638-2

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: JS Cook

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

For all the other writers out there that write what they love, and for the readers who love to read it.

BAD TIMING

Battle of the Undead, 2

Nicky Peacock

Copyright © 2015

Prologue

Don’t be sorry, be better. Words my father would say to me. Whether I was apologizing for staying out too late or for losing an expensive piece of jewelry, he’d say it with a ghost of a smile and a supportive wink. My younger sister and I heard this saying a lot growing up, and even when I was turned, I still heard the echoes of my father’s advice. And as I walked the dirty alleyways of Victorian London, luring out a mass murderer, I sincerely hoped that tonight I would be better, not sorry.

My boots needed re-heeling so I made far more noise than was necessary. The clunk, clunk, clunk of my quick steps thrummed through the shallow stoned streets, although it was only my pursuer that heard it. It was a clear and still night so most of London’s occupants were either nestled safely in their beds ready for yet another day of toil, or stumbling around taverns and bordellos spending their small day’s wage. I heard a rolling carriage in the distance and smelt the pungent smell of fresh horse crap hitting the crisp night air. It may have been disgusting but it was my home and believe me, the older you get, the more you appreciate a place that can draw you close and keep you, even if it stank like a toilet.

As I internally lamented, he closed the distance between us. I turned back and glanced at him. He was wearing a long black velvet cape and satin top hat with a red cravat. He couldn’t have looked more like a villain if he’d have sported a thoroughly waxed handlebar moustache and an artfully placed monocle. He chuckled low beneath his breath then jumped over me to block my path.

A lady should not be out unescorted at such an hour, he said taking off his hat and letting me see the greasy auburn hair lurking beneath.

Who says I’m a lady? I put my hands on my hips so that my fingers could wind about my newly installed release cord. One pull and my annoying hoop skirt and bustle would fall down leaving me in my more durable riding pants.

He sniffed the air and snorted. I smell that now. You’re a vampire like me. Well, not quite like me. He straightened and raised an eyebrow. Nicholas is such a sentimental maker, isn’t he?

Nicholas is not my concern this night. No, he was destined to feel my wrath at a later date.

I can rectify his mistake though. I’m Ichabod; I guess you’d call me your brother.

I’d rather call you a stain on the cobbles. I pulled the cord to unburden me of my cumbersome skirts.

Most impressive, he leered at me, I never did understand the Elders’ rules about lady vampires. But, even without comprehension, I still must abide by them. You must die, my sister.

He leapt up and pounced on me, pushing my back against the ground. I tried to flip upright but couldn’t get purchase enough to shake him off. He put his face into mine; I saw his graying tongue slither about yellow teeth. Don’t struggle sister, I’m doing you a favor.

I raised my knee and thrust it into his groin. His face went slack and he pursed his lips as he tumbled off me clutching his junk.

Don’t do me any favors, I said, and flipped myself upright.

I pivoted to roundhouse him in the face, but he caught my boot mid kick and pulled me over to fall next to him. He shifted positions and suddenly his gloved hands were around my throat. I tried to reach for my scythes that were nestled in a holster behind my back, but I was pinned too securely to even get a finger on them.

You don’t play fair, he seethed, squeezing with all the strength he had.

If I’d have been human, I would have been dead. My neck pulled, spine splintered like a chicken for the pot.

A salty delicacy then filled the space around us and he released me. We both sniffed the night air.

Jack’s done it again. Ichabod smiled, then looked down at me. My child needs me. I’ll bid you good night, sister. And with that, he was but a blurred movement in my peripheral vision.

I felt the bruising on my neck; no doubt it would be a royal shade of purple by the time I got home. I gathered my things and limped back up the street.

****

What were you thinking?

There was no comfortable answer I could give without furthering my friend’s rant. I decided to simply look down and shrug.

That’s not an answer, Britannia. He walked across the room, hands on hips and his lace handkerchief fluttering like a white butterfly that couldn’t settle.

I bit my lip to stop my usual anger from boiling up and out. Philippe was my only friend, the only other vampire I trusted.

He huffed and sped back to my side; sitting next to me with elegant annoyance he put an arm round me. Please, promise me that you stop these little temper tantrums. His eyes were so sorrowful.

I can’t do that.

Can you not forgive Nicholas his foolishness? You could come back to Paris with me, you would love it there. My child, Tate can’t wait to meet you, he’s practically…

…look, I understand your concerns. I shrugged off his arm and got up, But I cannot leave England and I won’t stop till all of Nicholas’s children are dead and he is utterly alone, just like he made me. I smoothed down my ruffled dress, my hand catching the hidden clasp. My skirts fell to the floor revealing my riding trousers.

Oh my, Philippe muttered.

I blushed and began to gather the fabric up in my arms, but I couldn’t collect them all. Instead I ripped them off and threw them across the room. When I looked up at Philippe he was smiling at me.

Sorry, I said.

You are not alone, he whispered, taking my hand. I did not make you, but you could be part of my family.

I thank you for the offer, but respectfullydecline. I got up, curtsied as best I could without a skirt, and lowered my eyes. Philippe was far too handsome for his own good and his offer had settled into the back of my imagination, to be replayed and improved upon at a later date in my daydreams.

He clutched at his heart as if he were wounded, As you wish, my lady. He lifted my hand and kissed it.

May I borrow your horse?

You want to continue your fight with Ichabod? You must not. Take tonight as a sign. He is too busy with his new creation to warrant taking vengeance on you. His child’s murders are all over the newspapers. He draws too much attention to us. Ichabod will have to destroy him now.

He belongs to Nicholas. Ichabod must die.

He’s three times your age! You’ll be killed! Philippe stood and gripped my hand to hold me in place.

Then I will die doing what I believe is right.

He took a pointless breath and closed his eyes. I will take care of Ichabod. If I do it before I go back to Paris, no one will suspect my involvement.

You would do that for me?

That and so much more. Please Britannia, consider a quieter life. Choose a child and start your own family?

No!

Do not take Ichabod and Nicholas’s misguided actions as normal vampire behavior. Please, meet my Tate; you’ll see that it can be a wonderful thing to…

To curse another! I finished his sentence and stamped my foot.

To create another. Philippe sighed and looked away from me. "One day you will see its worth. To have