Free His Vampyrrhic Bride by Simon Clark Page B

seemed to be trying to grow a beard. However, the tuft of mousy hair had given up trying to cover the entire jaw and contented itself, instead, with sprouting from the tip of his chin.
    Tom spoke firmly: ‘I’m telling you to leave her alone.’
    ‘Shit. Are you one of these do-gooders?’
    ‘If you don’t turn back, I can be one of those do-badders, understand?’
    The three weren’t used to one person standing up to them; they looked at each other, hoping someone would come up with a tough response.
    It was down to Bolter, the guy with the face blisters. ‘What are you interested in Crazy Bekk for? Didn’t you know she’s a nut? She can’t even read and write.’
    The big one grunted. ‘And she’s been warned off for hanging round the village.’
    ‘By you three, I suppose,’ Tom said.
    ‘I know what you’re doing.’ Bolter leered. ‘You’re sticking her with the love bone, aren’t you? You dirty dog – shagging a mental case. You filthy little fecker.’
    ‘Bastard pervert.’ The big guy appeared genuinely offended. ‘You need teaching a lesson.’
    The threat of violence crackled on the air.
    Tom knew what was happening. Big guy was the muscle of the gang. Bolter was trying to get his pal angry, so he’d be the one to punch first.
    Tom decided to catch them off-guard. Before Bolter could say anything else, Tom pounced on the big guy. He pushed him hard enough to get him off balance. The big guy now had to hang on to Tom to stop himself falling back into a clump of stinging nettles.
    ‘Hey, let him go,’ shouted Bolter.
    ‘Shut your mouth,’ Tom snarled. ‘And keep it shut.’ He glanced at the one with the ridiculous tuft on his chin; he was bunching his fists. ‘If you take a swing at me I’ll rip your head off.’
    The guy flinched back.
    Tom used the moment to shove the big man hard enough at the other two to show he meant business.
    Tom pointed back along the path. ‘Start walking that way. Understand?’
    ‘You’re crazy taking Bekk’s side,’ shouted Bolter. ‘She’s not right in the head.’
    ‘We’ll remember your face.’ Tufty was more confident about dishing out threats now his mates were between him and Tom. ‘You live up at Mull-Rigg Hall. We’ll show you that you don’t cross us.’
    ‘Just wait until you’re in the pub,’ the big one growled. ‘We’ll bloody well knock the shit out of you.’
    Tom strode away in the direction Nicola must have headed. The three still hurled threats, though he noticed they were retreating towards the village. They weren’t confident in tackling Tom head-on. Tom was savvy enough, however, to realize they’d wait for him down some alley one night and take him by surprise.
    So be it. But he wasn’t going to stand by and let them ill-treat Nicola.
    Tom began to run along the path to the river. Soon he’d left the village behind. Now the trees arched over him to create a dark tunnel. When he ran round a clump of bushes he startled Nicola who’d stopped to brush spilt flour from her skirt.
    ‘Leave me alone! If you touch me again, it’ll be the last thing you do!’
    He realized the shadows hid his face. ‘Nicola. It’s me – Tom.’
    ‘What do you want?’ She sounded suspicious.
    ‘I saw what those men were doing.’
    ‘Men? They’re pathetic cowards.’
    ‘Are you alright?’
    ‘Fine.’
    ‘I’ll walk you back home.’
    ‘There’s no need.’
    ‘Why did they do that? It’s like the whole village hates you.’
    ‘They hate our family.’ She lowered her voice. ‘They always have.’
    He realized her eyes glittered with tears. ‘Are you sure you’re alright?’
    ‘You don’t know what’s happened to me in that village.’
    ‘What? Just now?’
    ‘No. It’s what they’ve done in the past.’
    The implications were so ominous that shivers ran down his back. ‘You should tell the police.’
    ‘Police? Ha!’
    He could hear the river falling over the stones. At that moment, however, his eyes were fully