Nightshade

by Michelle Rowen

  “No. I don’t. Which is exactly why I’m sticking with you until we see your father.”

  “Fine. Your call. But I take no responsibility for anything that happens to you from this point forward.”

  With that, he turned and walked away from me.

  I followed after him.

  7

  “YOU NEED TO FLAG SOMEBODY DOWN,” DECLAN said when we finally reached the main road leading to the highway. He’d kept at least ten feet between us for the last twenty minutes of our brisk walk. “Driver sees me and they’ll keep going. Need a pretty girl in distress to make them stop.”

  I could not feel less pretty at the moment if I tried. But I nodded and slipped my heels back on. Declan sank back into the shadows.

  I’d hitchhiked once when I was a teenager, mostly because I’d gone through a rebellious stage and did it just to tempt danger. Instead I tempted an old married couple in a Winnebago who drove me fifty miles to my friend’s house while they told me about their grandkids.

  This felt different. I stood on the edge of the road, placing the knife down on the ground so when the next car passed I could wave my arms. It didn’t even slow down; the wind from its passing blew my hair back from my shoulders. I tried again. No luck. The third car that passed was a red pickup truck. It stopped ahead of me, tires screeching as it backed up.

  Two guys in their twenties grinned at me out of the open passenger-side window.

  “Hey there,” one of them said. “What are you doing out here all alone?”

  “Car broke down.” I tried to seem friendly and at ease. “Can you give me a lift?”

  “Be happy to, beautiful.” They exchanged a look. “What are you willing to trade for it?”

  “Trade?”

  The one on the passenger side shrugged. “We help you out, and maybe you can help us out.”

  Their meaning was fairly obvious, but this wasn’t a bar and I wasn’t drunk. “Fuck off. I’ll get someone else.”

  They laughed. “Oh come on, sweetheart,” the driver said. “A ride back to civilization for your lips wrapped around my cock for a couple minutes. Is that so bad?”

  His head swiveled when the driver’s-side door opened up and a scarred hand grabbed him by his throat and threw him out of the truck. Then Declan reached across to the guy on the passenger side and dragged him out as well.

  Declan got behind the wheel, then reached over and opened up the door for me.

  I didn’t argue. I grabbed the knife off the ground and got in, closed the door, and Declan stepped on the gas. In the rearview mirror I saw the assholes get up off the pavement and start running after the truck, shaking their fists.

  “Was that the original plan?” I asked.

  “Carjacking them?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It was. But I might have done it a bit more politely if I hadn’t wanted to watch them bleed.” His eye flicked to me. “An increased desire for violence is from not taking my serum.”

  “You didn’t kill them. Or make them bleed.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing my gun was taken away from me earlier.”

  I didn’t feel bad that he’d taken the truck. Maybe if they’d been more helpful and not complete dicks I would have. As it was, I hoped they had to walk all the way back to the city.

  “Don’t you already have a desire for violence?” I asked. “Killing vampires for a living doesn’t sound like doing needlepoint.”

  “You’re still saying it like you don’t believe they exist.”

  “Seeing is believing. And I haven’t seen anyone with teeth any sharper than normal.” I looked at him. “What are they like?”

  “Vampires? They’re fast. And strong. And a lot of them are smart, as long as they’re well-fed. Those are the ones that are hardest to kill. If they’re hungry, they’re not as smart, but they’re more vicious.”

  “And they look like humans? Just like in the movies?”

  He nodded. “They’re pale—the older they are the paler they are, and when they’re hungry you can see the veins right through their skin. Their eyes are pale and colorless, too. Like mine are, but even lighter. It makes them extremely sensitive to sunlight. Even sunglasses or UV protection won’t help.”

  “And they’re immortal? That woman, the servant, gave me the impression she’s trying to gain favor with this king ... Matthias ... so she can be turned into an immortal vampire.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. But they can still be killed.”

  “With silver. Or does a wooden stake do the trick?”

  “Silver. Wood’s too breakable. I’ve never used it. For all I know, it could work.”

  “How about crosses? Holy water?”

  “That’s myth only. Besides, I’m not religious. I figure if you use a cross to fight against an evil being, you’d have to be a believer for it to work.”

  “You don’t believe in God?”

  “No,” he said. No elaboration. Just a flat answer. Sounded like the serum-taking Declan again. “You?”

  “I ...” I pressed my lips together. “I don’t know. I’d like to. I went to church as a kid.”

  “You don’t anymore?”

  “I stopped after my parents were killed five years ago. You might say I had a bit of a breakdown and I blamed everyone I could for their loss, especially God.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “How’d they die?”

  “Plane crash,” I said tightly. “My father got his pilot’s license as a hobby when he retired. Took my mom up one afternoon. The first time she’d been up. I guess he got distracted having her there. Stupid.” My throat closed and my eyes began to sting.

  I didn’t think I liked being on the receiving end of a Q&A. I much preferred to be the one asking the questions.

  Declan didn’t say anything. He didn’t offer any condolences or any words of comfort. I was glad he didn’t.

  “How are you feeling right now?” he asked.

  “Horrible.”

  “More specific: Do you feel another spell coming on?”

  That was a pleasant way of putting it. A spell. It sounded almost magical.

  I touched my stomach, which was where the pain usually began. I didn’t want to think about what was going on inside me. We’d wasted a lot of time stuck at the house today. If that hadn’t happened, we’d already be at our destination.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Do I feel another spell coming on? No. Not right now, anyway. But it doesn’t usually give me much warning, so be prepared to pull over at any moment.”

  “I will. And where we’re going is a town right on the edge of Death Valley. It’s called Silver Ridge.”

  “Silver Ridge?”

  “I think it’s a coincidence. A hundred years ago, they used to mine for silver in the area.”

  Death Valley. I was trying to find a way not to die in a place named for death. The irony was not lost on me.

  Declan took an exit off the highway and I tensed.

  “Are we being followed again?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Then where are we going?”

  “To find some food.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “I am. And you need to eat, even if you have to force yourself. Keep up your strength.”

  I eyed him. “You’re concerned for my well-being?”

  “If you’re dead when we arrive, my father won’t be happy with me. I’ve already fucked enough things up today. The least I can do is make sure you’re still breathing.”

  Such heartfelt sentiment was seriously going to go to my head.

  But he was right. Despite the pain and the constant worry about my next “spell,” I felt a gnawing in my gut that had very little to do with being poisoned. I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast.

  The first restaurant we came upon was a small roadside diner with only a couple cars out front. Declan pulled into the parking lot.
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  “We’ll make it quick,” he said.

  I nodded and opened up the truck’s door, half-expecting him to stop me from getting out, but he didn’t. I slipped from the seat to the ground and then ran my fingers through my hair to neaten it. The next thing I knew, Declan was at my side and he grabbed hold of my wrist.

  “Don’t try anything,” he said.

  I yanked my hand away from him. “I won’t. I already told you I’m not going to try to escape.”

  “Maybe I don’t totally believe you.”

  Paranoid, wasn’t he? He should have been. After all, he had kidnapped me. Whether or not I was now along for the ride was beside the point.

  We entered the diner and it did feel like a natural thing for me to call out for help. I’d wanted that for hours—to escape from Declan. It was all I could do to stay quiet. I felt Declan’s hand at the base of my spine, almost too low to still be polite, a reminder that he was there and for me to behave myself.

  There was a television attached to the wall on mute. Would what happened earlier at my office building have made the news? A downtown public shooting wasn’t unheard of, but it didn’t happen every day.

  Did anyone know what happened to me? Or did everyone simply assume I’d been traumatized and gone home early that day? Somebody would have checked on me. Stacy witnessed firsthand what had happened. And my roommate, Donna, would notice when I didn’t come home after work. She’d be worried. She’d call my sister. Then my sister would be worried.

  Maybe they thought I was dead. That only helped guilt to twist in my gut. I needed to get in touch with them as soon as I could.

  And tell them what? I wasn’t sure, but they had to know I was still alive.

  We went to the counter. I couldn’t help but notice that Declan received wary glances from a few people at tables. Whether it was because they might recognize him from the news or just because he was, in his own words, fucking scary, was another thing. At least his black clothes helped to mask the blood stains.

  The waitress cast her own wary glance at the two of us. “Have a seat and I’ll be with you in a second.”

  “We’re not staying,” Declan said. “Need food to go.”

  “Oh, well, okay. What do you want?”

  His brow furrowed. “I don’t know. What do you have?”

  I grabbed a menu off the counter and scanned it. “Two burgers. Fries. Cokes. And two pieces of key lime pie. As fast as you can, please.”

  “Sure.” Her gaze flicked cautiously to Declan again, before she scribbled the order down and passed it over the counter to the kitchen. “Won’t be long. Take a seat.”

  I looked at Declan. “You can let go of me now.”

  He still had his hand on my back. He removed it and crossed his arms. “You ordered food for me.”

  “You didn’t seem like you knew what you wanted.”

  “Key lime pie?”

  “It’s my favorite.”

  “Never had it before.”

  “You don’t seem like a citrus-flavored pie kind of guy.” Then I felt a twinge of pain in my gut. “Oh, no. Not here.”

  “Sit down.”

  I shook my head. “I need to go to the ladies’ room.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “No, wait here for the food.”

  Doubt skittered across his expression. “But what if you—”

  “Try to escape?” I said under my breath.

  “Need my help,” he finished.

  “I’ll scream.”

  He studied me for a moment. “Fine. Then, go.”

  I made a beeline toward the short hall leading to the public washrooms. A pay phone between the men’s and women’s rooms caught my attention. I felt at my pockets, but remembered I had nothing. No change. Only a silver knife, the blade of which I’d wrapped in a plaid handkerchief I’d found on the stolen pickup truck’s dashboard so I wouldn’t accidentally stab myself.

  I went into the washroom and stood at the sink, staring at myself in the mirror. Considering how I felt and what I’d been through, I didn’t look half bad. Sure there was a shimmer of perspiration on my forehead, but my shirt and pants were surprisingly unmarked aside from a couple rips and scuffs. My skin was clean, pale, but unblemished and no longer showed any of the makeup I painstakingly applied that morning. My hair was a mess. I dragged my fingers through it and tucked it behind my ears, wishing for an elastic to keep it back from my face.

  I gripped the sides of the sink, waiting for the next wave of pain to take me over, but nothing came and what pain there was faded away to nothing. It must have been a false alarm. It didn’t make me feel much better. I knew it was there, waiting in the wings for the first opportunity to step out on stage. It seemed to prefer surprise performances. If the poison had a personality, it was one mean diva bitch.

  I unbuttoned and rolled up the sleeves of my shirt, splashed some water on my face, and then made use of the toilet even though I didn’t really need to go. The day had worked to dehydrate me pretty well. Except for a couple of cupfuls of water at the house, most of which I’d spat back out to cleanse my mouth of the inky black substance I’d vomited, I hadn’t drank anything. Still, I didn’t know when the next chance I’d get for a bathroom break would be.

  When I exited the stall, there was a woman standing there. I hadn’t even heard the door open.

  “I know who you are,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper. “I saw you on the television earlier. That man ... the one with the eye patch, he killed somebody today. Shot them. You were a hostage and he went after you.”

  Somebody recognized me. But it wasn’t right. This couldn’t happen. I couldn’t tell this stranger anything about my situation even though I desperately wanted to. Besides, she couldn’t help me. Nobody could.

  “I think you have me confused with someone else,” I offered feebly, knowing she wouldn’t believe it. After all, Declan’s was a face that would be very hard to forget.

  She stepped in my way as I tried to get past her.

  “Just forget you saw me, okay?” I said. “For your own good.”

  “My God,” her voice changed, it suddenly sounded awed. “What are you?”

  I frowned and looked at her. That seemed like a strange thing to say. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean ... that scent. Your scent. It’s overpowering.”

  Shit. I guess I really did need a shower.

  “I shouldn’t be here. It’s too dangerous with the hunter outside,” she murmured. “But I can’t resist.”

  How did she know Declan was a hunter? Had they said something on the news about that?

  But then the fog cleared for me and I noticed how pale the woman’s skin was. And suddenly I could see dark blue veins appear under the surface of her skin that circled her eyes and branched out across her jawline. The sight made me gasp.

  Her eyes were light gray, but suddenly the pupils expanded, swallowing the lightness until they were black. Her cheeks hollowed, giving her face a skull-like appearance.

  Even though she was shorter than me by a couple of inches, when I tried to get past her this time she grabbed hold of me in a tight grip.

  The look in her black eyes was nearly sexual in its desire. Her lips parted and I could see the sharp tips of her fangs. It seemed like something out of a Halloween party, unreal and almost amusing. But it wasn’t. This was very real.

  She was a vampire. The realization was like a blow to my gut, knocking the breath right out of me. Declan said vampires stayed underground except for the rogues. I guess this one was a rogue.

  She held me prone and I felt her cool breath as she brought her mouth closer to my throat. She moaned, a quivering sound that froze me with fear. Then her tongue snaked out and slid against my pulse there, tasting me, and I felt the graze of those razor-sharp teeth. I struggled to break free of her grip, but she was too strong.

  I didn’t remember screaming, but I must have let out a shriek loud enough to get attention. After
all, I did tell him that I’d scream if anything went wrong.

  The door to the washroom burst open and Declan grabbed the vampire by her long, dark hair, his other hand at her throat, pulling her mouth away from my skin and wrenching her back so hard if she’d been human it would easily have broken her neck. His eye flicked to me for the briefest instant before it focused on her again.

  “Bad girl. Should have stayed safely in your hole.”

  She hissed at him. But instead of attacking, she turned and ran. He caught up to her in the hallway, grabbing her hair again to stop her in her tracks. She clawed at him and I saw a streak of red from where her fingernails gored the right side of his neck.

  “I’ll kill you!” she shrieked.

  “Knife,” he growled. It took me a moment before I realized he was speaking to me. I fumbled for the knife I had in my pocket and removed the handkerchief with trembling fingers. Declan reached out and grabbed it away from me.

  The vampire came at him, grabbing his arm, lips peeled back from her sharp teeth.

  Without hesitating, he slashed the vampire’s throat. I clamped my hands against my mouth so I wouldn’t scream.

  She made a surprised sound, her hands flying up to stop the immediate spill of blood. Her eyes widened and she tried to grab for him again, but he was able to slice the blade into her chest.

  The vampire looked down at the ivory hilt with surprise. The next moment the knife burst into flame and she screamed—a horrible, high-pitched keening sound.

  No, it wasn’t the knife that was on fire. It was the wound itself. A circle of fire from it spread out and consumed her in a few seconds flat. Then in a burst of fiery ash, she was gone.

  Declan leaned over and snatched up the knife—the only thing that remained where she’d been standing.

  I stood there shocked, unmoving, not breathing, not believing what I’d just seen with my own two eyes. She’d tried to bite me. To kill me. Declan had killed her instead. And vampires turned to fire and ash when they died.

  I was trembling, but I felt his hand against my back again.

  “We need to get out of here,” he said. “Now.”

  Our altercation with the vampire had not gone unnoticed. Considering he’d killed her in full view of everyone, that wasn’t a surprise. All four patrons of the diner gaped at us as Declan pushed me past the tables. The waitress backed up, her eyes as wide as mine probably were, her hand clutching at her chest.