by ID Johnson
Cadence had finally caught up to Aaron, and she was glad, because when she realized where Gibbon was headed, she couldn’t even scream, her voice choking in her throat, and if Aaron hadn’t caught her, she might have collapsed right then and there. Gibbon had her sister.
***
Steven Gibbon entered the room slowly, as if he wasn’t sure he could trust her, but Cassidy did everything she could to assure him she was his friend. She smiled but did not advance on him. She didn’t want to frighten him. Through her IAC, she could hear the team talking about what they needed to do, but she stilled them all. She was okay. She knew exactly what she needed to do.
“You’re like me?” he asked, his voice gravelly, his breath catching.
“Yes,” Cassidy nodded, baring her teeth and showing her fangs.
“Why are you with them?”
“I’m Cadence’s sister.”
His massive eyebrows furrowed, as if he didn’t know who that was. Cassidy realized it didn’t matter. “They don’t understand you,” she offered, taking a step closer.
“No.”
“They don’t know what it’s like to have the urge inside, the one you cannot quench.”
“No.” The monster took a step forward, the anger in his face beginning to melt away, his shoulders slumping.
“They do not understand why we must do what we must do.”
“No.” His eyes were large now, and if he were capable, Cassidy thought he might let a tear slip down his cheek.
“I understand, Steven. I see your pain. I know what that awful woman did to you.” She held her arms open now, and he took a few more steps closer, timidly. “Let me help you,” she urged, keeping her voice light and ethereal. “Let me protect you. I can make them understand.”
Despite the cries from her sister, from Brandon, who lay on the floor on the other side of the door, a crumpled mess, from Elliott who was asking her if she’d lost her mind, Cassidy wrapped her arms around Gibbon, her thin limbs like twigs around his massive shoulders, and the monster began to shake, as if he were crying, though no tears could come out.
“I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” he groaned, anguish in his voice.
“I know. I know.” She patted his back.
“I couldn’t help it,” he continued.
“None of us can,” Cassidy assured him. “None of us can help that instinct inside of us. The one that says, ‘Kill.’ We can try to fight it, but, eventually, we will give in.” Gibbon continued to vibrate against her shoulder as Cassidy let go for a moment with her left hand. “I’ll explain it to them. Everything will be just as it should be.”
“Thank you,” he said, beginning to regain his composure.
“Certainly,” she replied, as he pulled back, and Cassidy smiled up at him, trying to see Steven Gibbon for who he was before he became this terrible monster. “I have something for you,” she continued.
“For me?” he asked, surprised. “What could you possibly have for me?”
“It’s a present,” she said handing it over to him. “From the joggers.”
Gibbon’s forehead once again revealed his confusion as he looked at the object she had slipped into his hands. And as Gibbon realized what it was he was holding, Cassidy flung herself backward under the ticket counter table. She heard Gibbon let out a low groan, and then, a flash of light lit up the small space, and she began to choke on smoke. Almost instantly, Gibbon’s groan became shrieks of pain, and once the initial blast was over, Cassidy looked out to see that he was on fire, the silver liquid melting into his skin. Despite the flames, he looked at her with eyes full of betrayal, and for a second, she thought he might drag her out from under the table. But he didn’t. Instead, he hurled himself through the front ticket windows, which exploded in shards of glass, and took off toward the front of the building as fast as he could go, flames, smoke, and ashes in his wake.
***
Cadence watched as her sister lured Gibbon into the tiny ticket room, aware that if any of them tried to force their way in, he would likely hurt Cassidy, possibly kill her. While she couldn’t tell exactly what Cassidy’s angle was, and she heard many of her teammates exclaiming that Cassidy had flipped, she knew that wasn’t the case. She had no way of knowing Cassidy had stolen a grenade from Christian until Gibbon burst into flame. Even then, however, he wouldn’t die. Once he shattered the windows and shot off for the front entryway, she took a deep breath, and holding her hand to her side, took off after him. Though all of Andrew’s people were still out there, it was really down to Elliott now.
And he was ready. She could see that through her IAC. As Gibbon passed by the watchtower, Elliott jumped, much as Cadence had earlier. Only, the Guardian was jumping from several hundred feet, onto a moving object, that was in flames, and even though Elliott wasn’t able to die, Cadence winced, afraid he would certainly hurt himself.
Elliott knocked Gibbon to the ground. The Vampire certainly hadn’t been expecting a projectile of that proportion to be coming at him at such velocity. Elliott jumped up almost immediately, his jacket still on fire as he began to kick Gibbon in the side and head. Clearly, he’d learned that shooting this monster did little good, and as Aaron and Cadence reached the location, Gibbon was struggling to get to his feet, still unwilling to go down without a fight.
The Vampire rolled beneath a nearby bush and then popped up, the flames dying down, though his skin was blackened and smoldering. Elliott removed his flaming jacket and then kicked him hard in the stomach, sending Gibbon stumbling backward toward the greenhouse. Once again, the monster launched himself at his assailant, but this time, his attack was much weaker, and as Elliott’s boot met him, he went crashing through the greenhouse wall, slivers of glass spraying up into the air. Gibbon was down now, and despite his best efforts, he didn’t seem to be getting up.
Aaron arrived a few seconds ahead of her, and with Elliott’s help, he hauled the Vampire up to his feet, each of them encapsulating one of his massive arms. The monster looked broken and defeated now, just a shell of the beast they had been chasing for so long.
“You got this?” Aaron asked, a bit out of breath himself.
Cadence couldn’t speak, but she could nod, and fighting against the stabbing pain in her side, she launched herself at the Vampire, using his own thigh as a stepping stone to project herself up into the air, and taking his head in both of her hands, she began to twist. Despite the gunshots they’d landed and the grenade, Gibbon was still strong, and he was attempting to rotate away from her. Repositioning her knees around his chest, she ratcheted his head again, and this time, Aaron and Elliott pulled in the opposite direction, countering her efforts, and within a few seconds, Steven Gibbon’s head was in her hands.
A moment later, her hands were full of ashes, and Aaron caught her before she hit the ground, the echoes of a low moan still vibrating in the air around her as the last call of the Vampire reverberated in the night.
Aaron lowered her to the ground a few feet from the pile of ashes she was certain Elliott would take care of in a moment, likely delighted to get to use the Extracto 9000 again, and she turned to face the group who had gathered behind her.
They were all beaten and bruised, some bloodied, except for her sister whose brown hair billowed in the breeze behind her, not a scratch that Cadence could see. She was standing next to Brandon, who was cradling his right arm. Meagan was hanging onto Shane, as if a Healer had gotten to both of them, but neither of them was completely patched, and Mickey and Ashley were leaning on each other. In the back, Jamie was slumped between Cale and Christian, clearly exhausted from having to save everyone, and Scarlet supported Hannah and Morgan, Aurora behind them. They were all alive—they were all safe. Cadence smiled and gave them a thumbs up before she slipped into the oblivion that was beckoning, her view slowly fading to black.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cadence sat in silence for most of the flight back to Kansas City, holding Aaron’s hand and trying not to breathe
too deeply. Three broken ribs and a punctured lung had been the diagnosis, and Jamie had put her back together as soon as he had regained enough energy to do so, but she was still sore, and even though he was a miracle worker, it would take a day or two for the pain to completely go away.
Gibbon was gone—which meant the only lingering effects they still had from Giovani were Laura and Sam, still prisoners in the basement jail cells back at headquarters. As soon as the plane landed, Aaron had promised Elliott he could go take care of a little business, and while she’d hoped to be able to see that first hand, she knew he needed to take care of it alone.
Aaron had told her as soon as he thought she was well enough to hear it that, as hard as it was to take Gibbon down, whatever she’d unleashed from the other side would be ten times harder, and she believed him. She just hadn’t imagined anything could be that difficult, and her naiveté had forced her to look more closely at herself and what she was capable of. One thing was for certain; having Elliott there had been tremendously helpful. If he hadn’t slowed Gibbon down, the Vampire might have broken the perimeter and disappeared—literally in flames. If this is what it was going to take to hunt down demonic Vampires, then she needed to train harder, and they needed better grenades.
Christian had attempted to apologize more times than Cadence could count, but she wouldn’t hear it. She knew how tricky her little sister could be. At the end of the day, she’d been the one to let Cassidy come on the hunt, and if something had happened to her, she would be responsible. However, Cassidy proved herself invaluable. It had been the newest member of their team who had tricked the Vampire into giving himself up, and if Cassidy hadn’t found a way to lure him in and set him on fire, he likely would’ve gotten away.
Cadence glanced back at her sister, who was sitting in the back with a fully recovered Brandon laughing about something. She was so young and innocent. As much as Cadence longed for her own life before Vampires, she desperately wished she could take Cass back in time to before Drew died and everything was as it should be. Now, she was a sixteen-year-old forced into a world she shouldn’t even know about and could hardly understand. At least she had Brandon, and despite what evils may come, she had Elliott as well. Even if something did happen to Cadence, her sister would still be well taken care of. Not that she couldn’t take care of herself.
Shifting her eyes to the attractive man holding her hand, Cadence couldn’t help but smile. Despite everything they had gone through, he was always there for her. Early on, back when he’d taken a bullet for her, he had said that he did whatever it took to keep her safe because it was his job. She knew now that it was more than that. It didn’t matter what the reason was. Aaron McReynolds loved her. And that made her the luckiest woman alive.
“What are you smiling at?” he asked, a curious grin spreading across his face.
She hadn’t even realized she was smiling. “Oh, nothing. I just wanted to say thank you.”
“For what?” he asked. “Letting you get your ribs broken? No problem.”
She laughed, but only for a second before the pain reminded her that wasn’t a good idea. “No. For loving me.”
“Oh, that. Well, that’s easy. What’s not to love?” His blue eyes twinkled and he squeezed her hand.
“I could make a list,” she admitted. “But something tells me it doesn’t matter. Even when I am the biggest pain in the ass you could ever imagine, you still love me.”
“Yes, and I always will,” he replied, kissing her on the top of her head.
Cadence leaned against his shoulder, happy that she was with him, whether it was fate or free will. At the end of the day, it was the togetherness that counted. “Let’s set a date,” she said, sitting up and looking into his eyes.
Aaron’s eyebrows raised. “Are you sure?”
“Yes….”
“We’ve talked about this lots of times before, and you keep saying later.”
“I know. I mean it now. Let’s set a date.”
He nodded. “Okay. When were you thinking?”
Cadence thought for a second, but that’s all it took before the perfect date popped into her head. “How about September second?”
A flicker of a question brushed across his face before she saw the recognition. “Your grandparents’ anniversary?”
“Yes. Why not? If it wasn’t for them, we might not have ever even met.”
Aaron smiled the crooked grin that had lit her heart on fire from the very start. “All right. September second it is.” He leaned forward and kissed her, and any doubts Cadence had ever had about why they were together melted away. They were absolutely meant to be together, and that was exactly as it should be.
The basement was dark and dank, though nothing like Eastern State Penitentiary. Compared to that hellhole, these inmates were living large, and as Jamie paused, his hand about to activate the lock on the door, Elliott looked over his shoulder at Aaron who gave him a reassuring nod, and then he gestured for the doctor to unlock the cell.
The door opened, and Elliott waited in the shadows for a second, wanting the anticipation, the fear, to build, before he revealed himself. There were no windows in the cell and only one bare light bulb hanging from a chain in the middle of the room above a small table and chair which the convict couldn’t even reach since he was chained to his bed in the corner, only able to access the toilet attached to the wall nearby.
He sat up in the bed when the door opened, and the longer Elliott stood outside of the cell, the more he could see the dread spread across the old man’s face. Even from here, he could see old scars. A crack across his nose, a gash that once split his forehead. He scooted up in the bed favoring his left side, as if it wasn’t quite healed yet. Elliott waited, watching, wanting him to say something before he stepped forward. Finally, Sam cleared his voice and said, “Who’s there.”
Before he stepped into the faint light, he called out, “What’s the matter? Don’t recognize me?”
The recognition was there before he even crossed into the cell, and Elliott watched as the cowboy’s eyes doubled in size, his mouth drawn into an “O” as his jaw dropped. Finally, he stepped across the threshold, and Jamie closed the door behind him, hard, jarring Sam, who jumped and slammed his head into the rusty bedframe behind him.
He began to stammer, not able to get out his question. “Who… how… what are you…” before he finally said, “You’re dead.”
“Was dead,” Elliott corrected him, still standing near the door, his hands in the pockets of his long black overcoat. “I was dead. Clearly, I am no longer dead,” he replied, opening his arms wide for emphasis.
Sam was shaking his head slowly from side to side. “But… that’s impossible.”
“So it would seem,” Elliott agreed. “So it would seem.” He took a step forward, further into the light. “And yet… here I am.”
“No,” Sam said, shifting his weight toward the wall, as if he might try to disappear into the concrete bricks.
“Don’t worry, Cowboy Sam,” Elliott said, forcing a smile. “I’m not here to hurt you.” He stepped forward, taking his hands out of his pockets and folding them in front of himself, a gesture meant to reassure the prisoner he had no weapon. “I just wanted to let you know I’m back.”
Despite the assurances, Sam did not seem to relax at all, and he continued to retreat into the wall. Elliott realized that he’d never seen Sam afraid before. Ever. It was a bit humorous, and it was all he could do to hold back his laughter.
“But… the thing is… I am a pretty fickle fellow. I think you might know that about me. I have a reputation for… changing my mind. So, while today, I don’t feel like pounding your face into a pile of meat even uglier than it is right now, well, tomorrow might just be different. Yep. Tomorrow, I might wake up, eat a big bowl of Toastie O’s, and then mosey on down here to see what kinda finger painting I can do with your vitreous gel.”
Sam’s face was stoic, but his eyes were still wide, and Elliott
could see that his hands were shaking. “I know what happened to you before—how you crashed and no one would patch you up. Me and Jamie are like this,” he said, flashing crossed fingers. “I guarantee the good doctor will look the other way when… I mean if… I decide to come show you how upset I am that you shot that poor little Hunter Meagan. And then there’s also a little matter of you killing me. So when you lay your worthless head on that yellowed pilla, the color of your teeth, tonight, my friend, you just remember that ol’ Elliott’s back. And I just might come a-calling any time I feel like it.” Taking another step forward he said, in a quiet, low voice, “If you ever thought Vampires were scary, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, old man.”
Despite his best efforts to seem calm, Sam began to shiver and the distinct smell of urine filled Elliott’s nostrils. “That’s my cue to go. For now,” he said, spinning to cross back to the exit. “See you around, Sam,” he called as Jamie opened the door and let him out.
Once he was in the hallway, Elliott took a deep breath, doubling over as he did so. “Well, you did it,” Jamie said, pounding him on the back.
“You okay?” Aaron asked.
Elliott straightened up. “Yeah, I’m fine. That just might have been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do though. Look the scumbag who shot me in the eye and not pound his face in.”
“You could’ve pounded his face in,” Jamie reminded him. “Neither of us would have stopped you.”
“Nah, not today,” Elliott replied, running a hand through his unruly hair. “It’s more fun when they don’t know it’s coming.”
“You’re a sick bastard,” Aaron said, shaking his head. Stepping forward, he clamped Elliott on the shoulder. “Damn, it’s good to have you back.”
As they made their way over to the stairs and back toward the light of day, Elliott couldn’t help but ask, “You sure? You’re not mad at Cadence anymore for bringing me back?”