by Keary Taylor
On December tenth, Sheriff McCoy arrests another woman for breaking into her best friend’s house, sure she was feeding off of her husband at nights.
December eleventh, Rath shows me another secret door in my bedroom that opens into an armory. There’s nothing else to call it. The small room is stocked with guns, crossbows, stakes, knives—anything and everything deadly.
I have to be ready to protect myself with the town so on edge.
December twelfth is the day I finally realize that I haven’t seen Ian in two days. Which is out of character and scary. We’re down to nineteen days, and Ian wouldn’t waste any of them.
Something’s wrong.
“Damn it,” I hiss at my phone when Ian doesn’t answer. He hasn’t responded to any of my texts, either.
Shoving my cell phone into the back pocket of my jeans, I grab the keys to the Jeep from the hook and open the garage. Just as I’m about to open the driver’s door, a car rolls up behind it.
Elle climbs out of the rust bucket and I remember that she’s just turned sixteen.
“Have you seen Ian?” she asks with worry in her voice.
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of him all day. I haven’t seen him since Wednesday.” Fear and anticipation leap into my chest and threaten to choke me.
“He came home from work this morning in a really bad mood,” Elle says. She clutches the hem of her shirt and twists the fabric absentmindedly. “I went to the cabin to try and talk to him about what was wrong. I didn’t even go to my first two classes this morning ‘cause I was worried about him. But he wouldn’t tell me anything. He just kept talking to himself and looking at the maps of town. He was twirling a stake the whole time.”
“Something happened at work last night,” I say as I watch the sun sink behind the house. “I don’t know if he’s told you how there’s been two attacks in the last week. There had to be another one.”
“He told me,” she says in that gentle voice of hers. I’ve never noticed the necklace Elle wears until now. It’s a long silver cord and on the end of it is a simple narrow shaft. And suddenly, I have no doubt it’s really a needle with the toxin inside of it. “But he said he didn’t know how to fix it.”
I swear under my breath. “I think I know where he’s planning to go. You’re blocking me in, so you drive.”
Elle doesn’t ask questions as I direct her. She stares straight out the window, fingers gripped white-knuckled on the steering wheel. Her jaw is clenched tightly. But she’s calm and quiet. It’s kind of disturbing how collected she always is.
“Park here,” I say as we get within a mile. “Pull into the trees so no one can see the car. We’ll walk in from here.”
The underbrush is thick, and the ground is wet and smelly. It’s half swamp from here to the House.
“I wanted to talk to the House about the attacks,” I explain as we carefully work our way through the brush and muck. “Ian was too scared to let me go, but they’re the only ones who might know something. And Ian knows that.”
“But they hate my brother,” Elle says, fear showing in her voice.
I nod.
It was bad when I walked into the House the first time. They could have killed me right then. But I would have resurrected.
Ian won’t resurrect. If they kill him, he’ll die. And while the House had no hard feelings toward me other than the choices of my father, they have every reason to hate Ian.
I start walking faster.
The House comes into view, and my heart breaks into a sprint when I see Ian’s van parked right in front.
“What’s the plan?” Elle whispers as we get closer. “They can’t know you two are together. I only brought three doses and my blowgun. We can’t take them all down to get him out of there.”
I don’t really have a plan. I didn’t think. I have nothing. No stakes, no crossbow, nothing. I just rushed out. Pure protective instinct.
“Let’s just get close and see if we can hear or see anything,” I whisper.
We creep up onto the back veranda. It’s going to be difficult to see anything since they’ve covered all the windows. But this house is falling apart.
We find a board that had been nailed over a hole and is now peeling away.
I can just see into the foyer through the great room.
There’s Jasmine, Markov, Anna, and Micah. Ian stands before them. With a crossbow hanging in one hand. To the untrained eye, it would look relaxed, unready. But I see the muscles in his arm strained, his finger hovering near the trigger.
“You do realize who that woman is, right?” Ian says. There’s annoyance heavy in his voice. He extends a hand out back toward town. “She is Mayor Jackson’s wife. People are going to start asking questions and you’re who they are all going to turn on. Do you not remember what happened to Elijah Conrath? To half of his House members?”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here,” Micah hisses. “Acting like we’ve been sitting on our asses, doing nothing about this.”
“It sure doesn’t seem like you have,” Ian accuses.
Markov hisses. He’s angled toward me, and even from here, I see his fangs extend.
I’m about to spring from our hiding spot and start pounding on the doors when Cameron wanders by. He’s holding a bowl of chips. “Y’all just need to chill out. Here,” he extends his snack out to them all. “Maybe everyone’s just hangry. You want some?”
“Cameron, get the hell out of here,” Anna hisses with annoyance. “And quit trying to get high. It obviously doesn’t work anymore.”
“The worst tragedy in the world,” he mutters regretfully as he shuffles to the stairs.
“Jaz,” Micah growls. “Why don’t you just let me kill him now? You’re just letting him stand there, armed, in your house.”
“Down, boy,” Jasmine says coldly and with the hint of annoyance in her voice.
“I just don’t understand how you could have nine of you here and not know anything,” Ian continues. “You all got attacked, and you’ve found nothing.”
“Looks like you’re slacking on your job, vamp slayer,” Micah growls back.
“Well, like I said, there’s only one of me and nine of you,” Ian says in a low voice as he takes a step toward him. His grip on the crossbow tightens.
“Enough,” Jasmine says. I just about lose it when she places her hand on Ian’s chest and shoves him away from Micah. “I will admit, we’ve not been paying enough attention to this problem. We’ve had other issues to handle.”
The preparations for when King Cyrus comes and they hand me over to him. The fall in Ian’s expression tells me he knows exactly what she’s talking about.
“But we will make more of an effort. Micah, I want you and the Kask brothers out every night looking for this intruder.” She looks back at her lover.
Who doesn’t look pleased. But he nods.
“Fine,” Ian says as he turns for the door. “About time you put that hot head man-whore to use.”
And I would have let loose the scream if Elle hadn’t clasped her hand around my mouth.
Ian is standing in the doorway when Micah jumps on him. Fangs extended, muscled body rippling and flying through the air. They collide and go tumbling down the stairs.
But Micah howls in pain, covering his eyes. It’s still six and the sun is not yet sunk into the horizon. His eyes are burning in pain. Micah scrambles back into the house.
Ian clambers along the ground away from the House, still barely grasping the crossbow. There’s a hint of fear in his eyes, but even more, there’s lividity. “Touch me again and I swear I’ll stake you!”
“I see you again and you’re dead!” Micah roars. But his pride is wounded. He stalks back into the House without another word or a backward glance.
“I suggest you never come back.” Jasmine is stone cold. She shuts the door in Ian’s face, and my view of him is cut off.
“We should go,” Elle whispers. “We should go now.”
I’m shaking and trembling. I can hear Micah upstairs throwing a tantrum. Crashing sounds, hissing roars of frustration. Jasmine speaks quietly to Markov, but I can’t hear anything anymore.
“Let’s go.” Elle grabs my wrist and starts leading me off the veranda. I stumble along after her numbly. Through the trees and the swamp, back toward her car.
Ian just went and ruined everything.
THE ENTIRE DRIVE HOME, ELLE tries to call Ian. He doesn’t answer her calls. He doesn’t answer mine. So we head straight back to the Ward property.
And we both sigh a big breath of relief when we find Ian’s van parked next to the cabin. We pile out of the car and barge through the front door.
Ian looks up at us from a duffle bag he’s packing. For a moment, he seems surprised to see us together. But then his eyes are cold and hard.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I blurt. I take five aggressive steps to close the distance between us and shove him in the chest. Hard.
He stumbles back two steps and clenches his teeth, his lips pursed. His fingers ball into fists, his nostrils flare as he lets out a hard breath. For a second, I think he’s going to hit me.
“We saw you tonight. Your sister, who you’re supposed to be protecting,” I poke him in the chest, “and I, we, followed you to the House tonight. We saw you acting like an idiot. We saw Micah attack you.” My voice cracks. Suddenly, tears have welled up in my eyes and my throat feels tight. And that makes me angry.
I don’t want to care this much.
I don’t want to be this scared for someone else.
“You can’t do stuff like that, Ian,” Elle says quietly. I look over at her. There are no tears in her eyes, but she’s pale and scared. “They hate you already. Don’t give them a reason to kill you.”
“I can’t just sit by and do nothing,” Ian hisses. His fingers flex and clench harder. “You know who got attacked last night? The mayor’s wife. That’s right, Dotty Jackson was attacked. Her husband called 911 because she was lying there like she was in a coma. And just as we got there, she woke up, bit her husband, and took off. I couldn’t catch her. And now she’s out there in Silent Bend, rabid and wild and out of control, with a Debt to a faceless enemy. Someone is trying to take our town down. And I’m not going to just sit by and let this happen. If the House isn’t going to do anything about it, then I will.”
He opens a cupboard, grabs a shotgun, and throws it into his bag.
“But you can’t go running around pissing Jasmine and the House off,” I say, my fire dimming, being smothered out by my fear. “Especially Micah. He will do anything for Jasmine. And Markov is just plain psychotic. He’ll kill you for fun and do it with a smile on his face.”
“Ian, please listen to her,” Elle whispers.
He stalks across the room and pulls the cushions off the couch to retrieve a huge handful of stakes.
“I’m going to find this terrorist, and I’m going to stop them.” Ian zips up the bag and slings it over his shoulder. He shoves his way between Elle and I and opens the door.
“Ian, please.” I grab his wrist and make him stop.
He hesitates. His eyes shift to me, and for just a moment, they soften. For just a second, I think I’ve convinced him to stay. To not go run out into the night with a death wish.
He leans down, presses a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. And then he walks out the door.
“Ian!” I yell frantically. But he doesn’t turn back.
Elle and I watch him back down the driveway. He doesn’t look at either of us.
“You know there’s no stopping him, right?” Elle says softly. She reaches out and takes my hand.
“I know.” Because I do.
ELLE DRIVES ME HOME, AND it’s nearly eleven by the time I walk through the front doors. I would have asked her to stay with me tonight, to try and protect her. But she has Lula, and since Ian is out trying to get himself killed, it’s now up to Elle to protect her. And there’s no way I could have convinced Lula to come to my house.
I don’t know what to do. I want to ask Rath for help, but once Ian sets his mind to something, there’s no stopping him. Rath couldn’t force Ian to go into hiding. That’s just not Ian.
I want to go to Jasmine, beg for her not to hurt Ian. To tell Micah to let it go. But I can’t do that. I can’t protect Ian. I can’t protect this town.
To combat the feeling of helplessness, I sit on the front porch with a crossbow. I’ve got a box full of arrows. And a glass of sweet tea on the other side of me. It’s freezing out here. My toes are numb and my fingers are stiff.
Knowing what Ian is out doing, the night feels dark and dense. It feels like it hides things. Demons lurk in the shadows, stare at me with hidden eyes. It’s a night that feels like anything terrible and horrifying could happen.
One o’clock.
Two o’clock.
Three o’clock.
My eyes grow heavy. But I do not sleep.
Around four-thirty, it happens.
There’s a sound. It’s an unidentifiable one, but I know it’s there and there hasn’t been any other sounds all night.
I stand on the porch, straining my eyes in the dark. But I’m not a vampire yet and I can’t see much of anything. My movement, however, turns on the motion sensor light, flooding everything within fifty feet of the house in light.
A gargled scream cuts through the silent night and a thwack falls on my ears. Red eyes flash for a brief second. The sound of scattering gravel and a scuffle sound out.
“Who’s there?” I yell, bringing my crossbow up to eyelevel. I dart off of the porch and ten feet out. “I’m armed and if you don’t like the feel of wood splinters in your heart, you should get off of my property!”
Fangs flash, and as something hits the ground, another figure leaps out at me with the glint of yellow eyes. I fire off one shot, hitting them in the arm. Just as we collide, I pull a stake out of my pocket and swing.
We both go to the ground, and in the movement, my aim shifts and I embed the stake deep into the right side of the man’s chest. He grabs both of my wrists, pinning them to the ground. With a beastly howl, he screams in my face, fangs fully extended.
I swing my knee up, catching him in the balls. Just as he’s about to roll off of me in a fetal ball of pain, he’s gone.
Rath flies through the air and the two of them tumble through the gravel. He locks his arm around the vampire’s neck, choking him, as I scramble to my feet. Grabbing the other stake that fell from my pocket, I give a possessed war cry before jamming the stake through the vampire’s rib cage and into his heart.
His body instantly grows gray and still. Rath lets him fall to the ground.
There on the back of his hand, is the branded symbol of the snake eating its tail.
I dig through his pockets and pull seven glass vials of green liquid out.
“He’s looking for Born to take out,” I say, my brows furrowing. “Did he know I’m a Born? That toxin won’t work on me until I’ve resurrected.”
Rath shakes his head and his eyes go to somewhere in the dark. He stands and walks with direction. I follow him.
My eyes adjust just as Lillian’s shaking body comes into view.
“Lillian?” I breathe as I drop beside her. “What are you doing here?”
She’s a mess. The needle is still embedded into her neck. A stake is poking out of her stomach, right below her rib cage. Claw marks trace down one of her arms.
I rip the needle from her neck. “Let’s get her inside,” I tell Rath.
He scoops her into his arms with no effort at all. I pull out my cell phone and call Ian as we walk into the house. It goes to his voicemail. “I know you’re out looking for your own vamps, but I’ve got a dead one out on my front lawn if Bernie and Carl are feeling hungry tonight. Lillian just got attacked.” I hang up.
Rath carries Lillian into the first guest bedroom on the ground floor. Gingerly, he lays her on the bed. Blood instantly stains the l
ight blue comforter.
“Do you know why I have objected to your and Ian’s relationship?” Rath asks with controlled anger in his voice.
I look back at him with a glare. This is so not the time.
“Because he makes you vulnerable,” he says, his eyes hard and cold. “Feelings blind you in any relationship and getting involved with such a volatile enemy such as Mr. Ward is dangerous.”
“Nothing about being in this town or this world will keep me safe from what is coming,” I say as I look back down at Lillian. “Get over it.”
Lillian’s eyes are unfocused, but her lips move slightly, like she’s trying to say something. I sit beside her on the bed and take her thin hand in mine.
“What can we do to help her?” I ask, once again feeling helpless. I look up at Rath.
“The toxin normally would take twelve hours to wear off,” he says. Rath really is all knowing. “But with her injuries, it might take longer.”
“Do I dare pull the stake out?” I ask in horror as I look back down at it. It’s nearly fully saturated in blood. Had it just been three inches higher and to the left, it would have killed her.
“She’ll live,” Rath says. He stands stoic and removed. His hands folded in front of him.
“And there’s no way to speed up the recovery process?” I ask in sadness. Lillian’s eyes close in pain and she shakes harder.
Rath sighs, heavy and hard, like he doesn’t want to divulge what he’s about to tell me. “Blood not only sustains a vampire, it aids and quickens the healing process.”
And when I glance back at Rath, he’s gone. The bedroom door has been closed.
I look back down at Lillian and feel desperate. We aren’t friends, but she is the one vampire who has been kind and understanding. She never wanted this life and she’s shown sympathy over what is in store for me.
“What were you doing here?” I whisper as I push her short hair off of her forehead. She’s sweating profusely. I need to get that stake out, but I’m scared to do it. I wish Ian were here. As an EMT, he deals with blood and gore all the time. It’d be no big deal to him.