Blood of the City

By Adrik Kemp

After a century apart, Mack and Jason rediscover their love and lust, but will trying to fit into a modern world keep them together or tear them apart?

When vampire lovers Mack and Jason are reunited after decades apart, they think of nothing but each other's company. But over time, Mack's old-world views conflict with Jason's liberated life, and it throws them into a spiral of confused despair. When Mack seeks solace in the arms of another and Jason's ex-lover Greg is murdered, their relationship breaks down and Mack flees.

While in solitude, Mack is handed the surprise opportunity to rekindle a relationship with his returned, now-vampire father, Allen. They return to Sydney to introduce him to Jason, but Jason has already sought revenge on Mack's lover and committed an atrocity of his own. Fractured so soon after their reunion, the three of them travel back to where it all began, in the country town of Wattlebrook.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pride Publishing
• Release date: Aug 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781786514493

Book preview

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Epilogue

Blood of the Land

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About the Author

Books by Adrik Kemp

Single Titles

Blood of the Land

Blood of the City

Blood of the City

ISBN # 978-1-78651-449-3

©Copyright Adrik Kemp 2016

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright 2016

Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

Pride Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2016 by Pride Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN, United Kingdom.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorised copies.

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If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as unsold and destroyed to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this stripped book.

Book Description

After a century apart, Mack and Jason rediscover their love and lust, but will trying to fit into a modern world keep them together or tear them apart?

When vampire lovers Mack and Jason are reunited after decades apart, they think of nothing but each other’s company. But over time, Mack’s old-world views conflict with Jason’s liberated life, and it throws them into a spiral of confused despair. When Mack seeks solace in the arms of another and Jason’s ex-lover Greg is murdered, their relationship breaks down and Mack flees.

While in solitude, Mack is handed the surprise opportunity to rekindle a relationship with his returned, now-vampire father, Allen. They return to Sydney to introduce him to Jason, but Jason has already sought revenge on Mack’s lover and committed an atrocity of his own. Fractured so soon after their reunion, the three of them travel back to where it all began, in the country town of Wattlebrook.

Blood of the City

ADRIK KEMP

Dedication

For my dear friend and inspiration, Jack Lopez.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Romeo and Juliet: William Shakespeare

Chapter One

Temptation

The driveway was long and dusty, marred by shadows clawing from the bases of the pines dotting the road. They marked the edge of the property, leading all the way back to the unassuming home on a small incline in the eastern part of the land. The shadowy curves lengthened as the sun dropped below the mountain range. Insects roared through the dying heat and a light flickered on in the house.

Old, brick walls, wooden beams and rippled, aged windows with thick glass sat under a corrugated iron roof, rust blooming in the corners. The light spilled out onto the yellowing lawn, where a couple of sheepdogs play-fought around their water bowl. Both were tethered by long leads to a kennel and a run beside the house.

A spoon scraped a can inside and both dogs’ ears pricked up. They stared at the front steps, muzzles taut and alert, hoping for dinner. The rattle of dry food mixed with wet and a couple of footsteps sounded before the screen door crashed open and one of their owners came striding out, holding two heaped silver bowls. Both dogs were salivating and started barking with hunger, joy and excitement, until their owner put down the bowls and patted their gorging heads as they scrambled to beat each other to finish.

As he stood watching the two animals, the last of the sun’s rays falling beneath the earth, Allen took in an unnecessary deep breath—more to taste the air. The sweetness of the petrichor oozing from the gums, insects biting and buzzing around, dog sweat and, in the distance, the lanolin-drenched sheep that needed shearing, all sent their odors fluttering over the breeze. The smells were music to his taste buds, but the air itself was useless and passed out of his body with no impact. His heart was quiet, something he’d taken years to get used to, but now found comforting. He could lose himself in his surroundings in a way he had never been able to when he’d been alive.

He was an imposing silhouette, standing over the dogs as he was—over six feet tall, with a grizzled jaw and heavy muscles under his dirty, off-white work shirt and grimy jeans. His leather boots were scuffed, but effective, and as he heaved back over the rickety front stoop, his footsteps clopped on the wood.

Inside, Joanna sat in her rocking chair, carved decades before by Allen’s own hands. Her frail knees were covered in a red, yellow and black crocheted blanket and she worked on another in her lap. Spectacles with plastic-beaded string hung around her neck and her frizzy, gray hair was tied behind her head. Her skin was dark, with deep ridges, and her fingers were gnarled, even as she wove deft patterns in the wool. Although her frame was slight and her skin aged, there was a quiet strength to her and her dogged determination to continue her task.

Are you hungry, my love? asked Allen.

Joanna started just a little then glanced up at her husband. You gonna feed me with the dogs now? Her words were harsh in a way, but her eyes were amused and playful, reflecting the lamplight around her.

Depends on whether you behave yourself. Allen grinned, then leaned down to kiss the much older-looking woman. Her lips were soft against his. She put a knotted hand to his cheek and stroked his jaw.

You’re still exactly the same, she said.

Allen got up and turned to the little bar kitchen across from her. On the other side of the large room was a double bed, also covered in crocheted blankets, a quilt and huge pillows. Their home was tiny, but crammed with knickknacks. Some had been collected from Jo’s children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren—dried gumnuts, twigs and polished rocks, some quartz crystals, antique jars and tins, as well as intricately painted items passed down to her through generations. Mixed throughout were photos of them all—smiling, playing and posing to capture moments of past joy. The rare photos at night also featured Allen, looking the same as always in every one.

Allen took out some bread from the pantry, cheese and ham from the small refrigerator then began making his wife a sandwich.

You remember that day, Allen? Jo asked.

Going for a walk down memory lane? countered Allen.

Jo smiled to herself and continued. You were a gibbering fool, not much different to now, by my count, she laughed, coughed then composed herself. Had blood all over you, naked as the day you were born. Her eyes developed the sheen of nostalgia. The others ran away in fear, but I stayed. Do you remember?

I’m standing here now, aren’t I? And don’t try to tell me you stayed ’cause you’re brave. I know you were just thinking filthy things.

Jo laughed and clapped. Oh, you know me too well, my love.

Allen buttered bread and laid slices of cheese and ham on it. He unscrewed the lid of a mustard jar and slathered it on the other piece of bread before closing then cutting it for Jo.

As she ate, tiny crumbs rained over her chest and onto the blanket, dropping to the floor. Allen sat in an armchair close to her, so their feet were almost touching, and they could look at each other and smile.

You’d been eating—I dunno—was it a kangaroo?

An emu.

Jo laughed and put her half-eaten sandwich down. That’s right. You had a leg, holding it like a drumstick, but you were sucking at it, trying to get out all the blood, weren’t you? Greedy then, greedy now. Jo scratched at her neck, over a few old scars.

Allen touched her knee. His thick knuckles had dark hair over them, but his skin was pale. It had been decades since he’d seen the sun. Jo covered his hand with her own and sighed.

You’re still so handsome.

And you’re beautiful, said Allen.

I know that. You don’t need to tell me, said Jo. You know, these days—these long days—I sometimes wish I’d let you turn me back then.

Oh, stop it, Allen said. I know you’re not gonna sit here feeling sorry for yourself when you’ve got all these kids and grandkids to show for your life. And even apart from that, you mean everything to me. I’ll never forget you and what you did for me.

"Damn right you won’t. I lost a lotta friends ‘cause