by L. E. Wilson
It was him. He was the one pulling them here. They sensed him somehow, just as he could sense them when they were anywhere near him.
As he watched them swarming above them, that strange sensation hit him again, like something, or someone, was stirring inside of him.
A forgotten memory of Leeha's red eyes suddenly flashed in front of him in bits and pieces. Tears streaming down her lovely, evil face as she told him goodbye. Her hands reaching out and catching him before his head had hit the ground and he'd passed out. Standing in the room full of her demon zombies - all vampires that Luukas had created yet had followed her to create their own colony. She'd possessed them all with the demons from the altar.
And he had been next, because the dark warlock had refused to use Shea.
His head started to spin, and he backed away from the monitors.
No! It couldn't be. Those things out there, they had no recollection of the vampires they used to be when they were under Luukas' rule. He, Aiden, was still himself. His body, his mind, his memories.
Yet, they had called him "Waano", and they could sense whenever he was near them. Like he was one of them.
He suddenly felt nauseous. Could it be possible?
But if Leeha had injected him full of one of those demon-ghost things, why was he still here? Why was he still him?
An unlikely scenario occurred to him: Unless, for whatever reason, it didn't want to be inside of him. Unless, unlike the others, who were eager to be corporeal again, his own demon didn't want to come out.
Poppycock.
However, he remembered how strange he'd felt when he'd first seen his old friends in that empty building. He remembered the violence that had risen inside of him when he'd seen the human male shot in Grace's kitchen.
It wasn't like him to get so overwrought with emotion. As a matter of fact, he couldn't remember ever reacting so intensely to anything since he'd gone home to find his entire family murdered.
Was that what this strange feeling was inside of him? That feeling like he was experiencing someone else's emotions? Could it be that that was exactly what he was doing?
No. NO. It couldn't be. He was going daft. More likely, Leeha had chickened out and found that she couldn't make him into one of her minions. She'd always had a soft spot for him, after all. She'd probably knocked him out and stuck him in that shipping container somehow to get him out of harms way.
"Aiden? Are you all right? What's wrong?" Grace's concerned voice came at him as if from outside a bubble. "Aiden, why are they still here? Why aren't they leaving?"
The slight tremble in her voice belied her calm appearance.
He stared into her exotic green eyes, and reached blindly for her good hand, too shaken up by his own thoughts to reassure her properly with words.
She gave it to him, squeezing his fingers and not letting go. Even that slightest of touches from her managed to ground him. And a few seconds later, he felt that presence inside of him begin to subside.
Her freckles stood out against her pale face as she waited for answers, but he couldn't tell her what he suspected. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
"I don't know," he told her instead. Without releasing her hand, he took stock of the room around them, trying to get his mind on to something else - like their survival. "How long can you stay here before you run out of supplies?"
"Um, about two weeks if we had to, maybe even longer since I'm the only one who'll be eating the food."
He waited for what she'd just said to sink into her human brain. And sure enough, after only a few seconds, her eyes flew to his. He knew exactly what she'd just thought of, and he gave her a tight smile. "I'm not a young vampire. I'll be good for a while, as far as feeding is concerned. Long enough for us to figure a way out of here, in any case."
She nodded, but her expression was grave.
If only she knew how gentle I can be, and how much she's going to enjoy it.
He may need to educate her on that sooner rather than later. But then he frowned a bit. What was he thinking? He would do no such thing. The only thing he'd be doing would be to get her out of this coffin and somewhere safe, and then he'd be on a plane back home.
He noticed her still staring at him, her face all screwed up with worry, and then suddenly she smiled.
He looked at her suspiciously. Did she read minds now? A bit affronted, he wondered if she was happy that he had no plans to seduce her.
Something tickled his ear, and he reached up to rub it, only to quickly pull his hand away.
"Bloody hell!" He rubbed his palm on his thigh. "How the hell did your boot brush get on my shoulder?" He reached up again to dislodge the bristling little guy.
Grace giggled as Mojo huffed and jerked away from Aiden's hand, raised his quills, and then promptly returned to Aiden's hood.
"He must've crawled out of the pack when you were holding it," she giggled.
"And into my hood? What if I'd needed to wear it? I'd have his bloody quills sticking out all over my skull. I'd look like Pinhead!"
"He likes you."
"Likes me? He won't even let me touch him."
"You just startled him is all."
He gave her such a look of exasperation that she laughed out loud. "Here. Sit down in the chair so I can get him."
Slowly, so as not to upset the grouchy beast in his hood, he took a seat and turned his back to her.
"Hey, baby," she murmured softly, her breath tickling the back of Aiden's neck. "It's ok. It's just me. We're all done running for now."
If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine her soft lips moving against his skin as she whispered to him like that, but then he felt Mojo's slight weight get lifted from his clothes as Grace scooped him out and put him on the floor to run around. Once the little prickler was out of his clothing, he gave himself an internal shake, and swiveled around in the chair to check out her computer.
At least the little rat had distracted her from their previous conversation.
"What sort of system do you have on here?" He began surfing around the desktop, clicking on this and that, getting a feel for it.
"Nothing fancy," she told him. "Just the security cameras. No internet. No cell service in here either." She tossed her now useless phone onto the desk.
He clicked the mouse around a few more times. "No internet? How is that even possible these days?"
"I think it was something my Mom meant to get around to doing, but never got the chance."
She walked over to the adjacent wall, grabbed a handle that was sticking out of it, and partially pulled out a hidden bed to act as a couch. Plopping down on the mattress, she placed her elbow on her knee and rested her chin in her unwrapped hand. "So, what now?"
Aiden scratched his head and gave her a sheepish look. "To be completely honest, I'm not really sure. But give me just a bit, I'll think of something."
She yawned behind her hand. "Bet you're wishing you'd taken your friend up on that plane ride about now, huh?"
"And miss out on being all alone in this tin can with you?" he teased, giving her a wink. "Not for anything in the world, poppet."
She didn't need to know that he'd been thinking that exact same thing for a while now. He didn't want to hurt her feelings.
He turned back to the creatures on the monitors. They were examining the ball sculpture now, having honed in on him directly beneath it, and were searching for any telltale signs of where they could've gone.
"Grace?" he asked softly. "Are you quite certain there isn't any way those things would be able to find their way in here?"
She was silent for so long, he turned to look at her, but she was shaking her head. "No. I don't think so, not unless..."
She didn't finish her thought.
"Unless what?" he encouraged her.
"Nothing," she insisted.
He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. "Come to think of it, how did we get in here? How did you get it to open?"
She answered his question
with a cool, level stare.
"Why is it exactly that your family has this shelter?" he continued. "And for that matter, where is your family, if I may ask?"
Apparently he couldn't, for again, all he received was that cool look that told him he wasn't going to be told anything she didn't want him to know.
"Ah. It's like that, is it?" He swiveled the chair around to give her his full attention, and gave her his most trusty look. "C'mon, luv. There's no need for all of this secrecy between friends. You can tell me."
But she wouldn't break, just looked down at her hands as they twisted in her lap.
More secrets. Seems this female was stocked full of them. Having to watch what you say and do so much couldn't be healthy. It would really behoove her to share her burdens.
He joined her on the makeshift couch and sat right next to her. They weren't touching, but he was close enough to make her bristle.
Kind of like Mojo.
"Grace, luv, if we're going to be risking our lives together, you're going to have to indulge me and let me in on some of your little secrets. I may be nothing but a lowly vampire, but you can trust me. I promise. I only want to get us all out of here alive."
She gave him a sideways look.
He scooted a bit closer, and heat ran down his thigh where it was touching hers. "Where is your family? At least tell me that. Are they nearby? Are they in danger? Do I need to go get them?"
Her teeth chewed her bottom lip as she shook her head, finally telling him, "No. My family is gone."
"Gone?"
"Yeah, it's just me."
She looked so lost for a moment that he almost hated to ask. "What happened to your family?"
"My parents are both dead."
"Do you have any siblings? Grandparents?"
She shook her head again. "No. No one else."
"May I ask how they died?"
"My father died in an...accident before we moved here. And my mom was in an accident a few years ago. A car accident."
"I'm very sorry," he told her sincerely.
She nodded, accepting his condolences as she watched Mojo explore the room.
A young woman alone, full of secrets, whose parents were killed in "accidents". This story was sounding vaguely familiar to him, and the more he thought about it, the more a nagging suspicion rose up in him. "Grace?"
"Hmm?"
"What's your last name?"
A steel rod slammed into her back at his question, and she looked him square in the eye as she told him, "Poland."
"Poland," he repeated in disbelief. "Grace Poland?"
"Yup."
This female was many things: Smart, compassionate, sexy, and an exceptional liar. But she couldn't fool him. However, he decided to play her game. For now.
"All right, Grace Poland, why do you think it is that our guests outside want that bag so badly?"
"I honestly have no idea."
The innocence in those green eyes pulled at his heartstrings, almost as strongly as the heat and scent of her pulled at certain other strings of his. Whenever she looked directly at him like that, he found himself hard pressed to look away. It was like she was staring directly into his soul, and he was suddenly more than willing to let her in there and allow her to rearrange until she felt at home.
"Why is it," he continued, "That just a few hours ago, you could barely walk and had broken bones in your hand, and yet now they are magically healed with nothing more than an Ace bandage? And why were you about to collapse when I got back to your apartment after hiding the body?" Her eyes darkened as he delved further into her secrets without restraint, and he noticed the strain around them for the first time. "Why did you have a gun, with a silencer, may I add, in your apartment? Why do you have this shelter?" When she broke eye contact and turned away against his barrage of questions, he took her chin gently in his hand and turned her face back to him. "I think I deserve to know. I'm risking my very life by helping you, after all."
She searched his face for a moment, and then closed her eyes and sighed heavily. "You're right. You deserve to know what you're getting into."
Chapter Fifteen
Grace stared into his clear grey eyes and knew she needed to tell him something. He was getting too suspicious. The question was, how much was safe to tell him?
"My family is...different. When I was born, my parents belonged to a community of sorts. Kind of an off the grid commune-type thing. We lived there until I was about four or five, I think?" Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember, then she shrugged. "I'm not really sure. Then suddenly one day my parents picked me up from my friends’ house and rushed me home to start packing. My father...got held up, but Mom and I left town that same day, only taking what we could carry."
She fell into a thoughtful silence, remembering that day, and how scared she'd been when her parents had rushed into the house, screaming her name.
Her father had found her first, sitting outside in the midst of her friends' chickens. She'd been giggling as she'd watched them search for bugs in the yard, until she saw her dad. He'd run straight to her, scattering chickens every which way. Feathers had floated around in the air as he'd scooped her up and ran back into the house, yelling for her mother to take Grace in the car and go.
Aiden's voice snapped her back to the present.
"Where did she take you?"
"Um, we took a plane to Europe, and then we lived like vagabonds for a few months after we received word about my Dad. Now I know we were trying to stay under the radar. I couldn't even tell you where we were. We never stayed in the same place for very long, and my Mom would never let me go outside, never let me out of her sight, not even to use the bathroom." She took a breath, gathering her thoughts. "After...I don't know...weeks? months?...we finally landed here in China. She got a job teaching English, and I picked up Mandarin by sitting in on her classes. I was home-schooled there in other subjects as well. We always stayed together. I wasn't allowed to go to public school, or out with my friends when I finally made some, or even down the street to grab a soda. She never let me out of her sight. It was years before I could shower with the door completely closed, and I was never allowed to lock it. She always seemed terrified that I would just disappear into thin air." She gave a little cynical snort. "I had no idea what was happening back then. I was young, I just went with the flow. I thought everyone's Mom was that weird."
"But you know now." It wasn't really a question.
She stood up to pace to the other side of the room, needing some space. The warmth of his nearness, his clean smell, was entirely too distracting. She was too tired to keep her defenses up, and she needed to think through this next part.
He needed to know things, yes, but did he need to know everything? How much should she tell him? Her mom had never told her what to do if a handsome, virile, nosy male came to her rescue and demanded to know what he was getting himself involved in. Actually, she hadn't told her much of anything, except to keep their secret just that...secret.
And not to trust vampires. No matter what.
She stepped over Mojo as he scampered by and leaned back against the opposite wall, facing Aiden again. He sat patiently for once, elbows resting on his knees, giving her the time she needed to come to the correct conclusion.
That conclusion being, she was sure, to tell him everything.
She studied his posture. He seemed relaxed, not twitchy and impatient like someone would be if they were just trying to get information out of her.
Plus, her instincts were telling her that it was okay to trust him. And her instincts were usually spot on. Her mother's warnings echoed round and round in her head, but really, what other choice did she have? She needed his help. If not for him, she'd probably be dead twice over already. She could tell him this much at least.
"Yes," she admitted. "I know now."
He raised his eyebrows, silently urging her to continue.
Suddenly, she was nervous. What would he think of her when he fo
und out what she really was? Who she really was? And then she laughed to herself. She was worried that a vampire wouldn't think she was normal.
Still, her voice came out stilted as she told him, "My parents weren't part of a hippie commune. They were part of a coven."
"Like a witch's coven?"
She took a deep breath. "Yes," she confirmed.
"Which means, you are a witch."
"Yes, if you can call it that."
"Grace?"
"Yes?"
"What is your last name?"
"France."
He grinned widely. "Grace France?"
"Yes," she confirmed seriously.
He nodded solemnly, but a trace of amusement lingered in his eyes. "Go on then with your story, Grace France," he told her, adding politely, "Please."
She clasped her hands nervously in front of her, seeing no sense in continuing the ruse that one of them was supposed to be injured. "So...my parents, from what they eventually told me, decided to leave so suddenly because a new High Priest had taken over. Our coven is old, and has had many leaders, but none were ever like this one. He was pure evil, and he brought his dark magic into the group by lying and pretending to be something he wasn't. He was so good at hiding what he truly was, the witches didn't catch on until it was too late. Many fled while they could, before he could 'convince' them that they should stay. And by 'convince' I mean threaten them with the deaths of their loved ones, those both in and out of the coven."
"He sounds lovely," Aiden told her sarcastically.
"Right? Anyway, we're one of the few families that got away."
"Where did the others go?"
She shrugged. "Don't know. They scattered, I guess."
"So, magic. That's how you fixed yourself." He indicated the bandages on her wrist and ankle.
Her face heated. "Um, yeah, guess I can go ahead and take these off now."
"May as well," he agreed with a slight twist of his lips.
She heard the amusement in his voice and knew that he was laughing at her. The bastard.
Joining him back on the makeshift couch, she took off her sneakers and unwrapped her ankle, then her wrist and hand. She bent her wrist back and forth, testing it.