Free His Vampyrrhic Bride by Simon Clark Page A

stopped dead, staring hard, his heart pounding. This was a day for surprises alright. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing right now.
    Nicola Bekk walked along the street. She had her back to Tom, so she didn’t see him standing there outside the workshop. Three guys in their twenties walked with her. They took it in turns to put their arms round her shoulders. When she pushed one away that’s when Tom realized they were doing this against her will. In fact, they were clearly goading her. Nicola walked faster. Maybe she hoped they’d tire of following.
    They didn’t. If anything, the horseplay ramped up towards intimidation. These bullies were enjoying scaring the woman. When she wriggled free of one of those rough hugs the men started pushing her.
    Chester hadn’t seen what was happening; he was inside the workshop. ‘Need any help carrying that hammer?’ he joked. ‘My grandad always said that gravity’s stronger here in Danby-Mask. He says that after eight pints of beer he can hardly lift his head off the table . . . Tom? What are you doing?’
    Tom Westonby dropped the hammer and charged down the street. Neither the thugs nor Nicola had seen him yet.
    The three guys were shoving her hard now. One push sent her stumbling against a fence. Another guy snatched the bag she was carrying. Nicola was slightly built; nevertheless, she hung on tight to stop the man taking it. Of course, the plastic ripped. Eggs, oranges and flour cascaded on to the ground.
    Tom’s feet pounded the pavement. Rage electrified him.
The bastards! What the hell are they doing?
    Before Nicola caught sight of Tom, she abandoned her groceries. The last he saw of her was a flash of blonde hair as she cut down a path away from the road.
    The three thugs were laughing. They stamped on the eggs that had survived the fall. Once they’d done that they ran after her. The chase was on.

FOURTEEN
    T om knew the situation was becoming dangerous. After all, what were those three men planning to do to Nicola? Whatever it was, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself. What’s more, Tom noticed that even though some villagers had witnessed the attack, none had done anything to stop it. Come to that, several were laughing as if they’d witnessed a harmless prank. This was no harmless prank, though: those thugs had been brutally shoving her.
    Tom took a short cut. He vaulted over a fence, sprinted across a lawn, then through a succession of private gardens. As a pro diver he kept himself fit. That, and heavy work at the house, had developed his physique. His biceps formed hard bulges under the skin.
    So he wasn’t even breathless when he vaulted a wall to drop down on to a public footpath. He’d judged it well. The three men were just appearing round the corner. Now he found himself between them and Nicola. He glanced behind him. He couldn’t see her; she must have been moving fast. Probably scared half to death by these three goons.
    He’d seen the guys before in the pub. If there was the sound of breaking glass, or drunken yelling, they were usually the ones behind the rumpus. He knew the one in the red cap was called Bolter. He didn’t know the names of the other two.
    Tom held up his hand. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
    ‘What’s it to you?’ said the smallest of the three. This was Bolter – a thin-faced runt with red blisters erupting from his face. Those blisters hinted strongly at amphetamine use.
    ‘I don’t know what you’re playing at.’ Tom kept in the path’s centre to block the way. ‘But leave her alone.’
    The little one had the largest mouth – and was hell-bent on using it. ‘What you bothered about Crazy Bekk for? Nobody wants her hanging about.’
    The biggest of the three rumbled in a slow-witted way, ‘We’re getting her out.’ He wore an expression of genuine outrage. ‘She shouldn’t even be coming into the village.’
    ‘Not when there are little kids about,’ added the one in the middle. He