Mallory followed Jerry inside and the door closed and locked behind them automatically. The darkness didn’t bother her, though the only light came from an open door down at the end of the hallway that led to a stairwell.
Mallory was only partially paying attention to Jerry when he opened a door to his immediate right and slipped inside. She heard another solid locking mechanism and smelled the thick metal of the door.
“Um, Jerry?” she said in a tone she thought sounded moronic. She sharpened her tongue and snapped, “What the hell? Where’s my family, you ass?” She thought to curb her words, but parts of her brain were not listening to her. The speech function seemed to be one of the things faltering as an uncomfortable fever began to burn inside her mind. The fire caused her to feel fear, as did her worry about how Jerry would respond to her insults.
“I’ll hold to my word,” Jerry told her calmly. “Keep walking and you’ll hit a stairway. They’re on the very last floor.”
“Why am I going alone?” she questioned.
“I don’t want to spend any more time than I have to with a new vampire. They’re volatile, I hear.”
Mallory wondered in shock how he’d known. Hell, what did it matter? Mallory decided if Jerry knew what she was, the plan was even more blown than she’d assumed. It was time to open up that can.
Taking the door by its handle, Mallory pulled. She put all of her newfound strength into it, but could not budge the door. In exasperation, she wondered if the damn thing was cemented in.
“Safe room,” Jerry gloated. “There’s one on each floor.”
“So should I expect your boys to be pissing their pants in the panic rooms, too?”
“Depends on how fast you can get down there.” Mallory heard the shifting of a phone being pulled from Jerry’s pocket. Without waiting around to eavesdrop on his unimportant words of warning to his fellow Hunters, she turned and dashed for the stairs.
It was time to pit her speed against the wildfire spread of panic.
In the uppermost safe room, Jerry rubbed his chest where Mallory had hit him. He knew she’d looked different, but new vamps couldn’t control their strength. She’d bruised him with the little tap she’d delivered to wake him and had defined her change for him.
Calling a pre-programmed number, Jerry spoke as soon as the other line was picked up. “Vampire in the compound. Get in the safe room.”
There were six Hunters in the building, not including Jerry himself. Jerry continued to call them as Mallory sprinted.
Instead of actually taking the stairs, Mallory trusted her altered body and simply sprang over the railing. She landed crouched on all fours three floors down. The shockwave of impact lanced through her as though all of her bones had been replaced with blades and they’d shifted upon her landing. She screamed, but pulled herself upright. Her new body was far more resilient than her old one and she hadn’t broken any bones. She thanked God for that.
Agony accompanied Mallory’s every step as she slammed through a heavy metal door and burst into a brightly lit hallway. The white linoleum, bare walls, and harsh lighting reminded her of a hospital ward. She hated it, but it blurred into nothingness as she ran. She didn’t care about the visual surroundings. She was hooked on a scent.
Mallory could identify her mother’s perfume even without a greatly enhanced sense of smell. Her elevated existence simply meant that she could recognize it at a greater distance.
The pain in her limbs began to recede and Mallory blessed her new powers of healing. Strangely, the burning was replaced with a different torment, this one in her mind instead of her arms and legs.
A haze overtook Mallory’s vision and her fangs descended. The feeling was still new and interesting, but it was overpowered by the incredible, unstoppable rage that boiled up inside of her and released itself in a series of feral screams that echoed through the halls.
She saw the first of the Hunters, who’d come out to investigate the sounds. She tore into him with fangs and nails. Ripping through his cheek, she spat ribbons of flesh onto the floor and dug her hand into his abdomen, almost at groin level. His screams vied with hers in volume, but her rage was stronger than his short-lived anguish.
Mallory let the body of her first victim fall and continued on, following the scents of threats and prey.
The next Hunter brandished a weapon at her and shot once, twice. His shaky aim failed him on the first, but the second bullet plunged into Mallory’s neck and burst out of her flesh to hit the ceiling behind her. She snarled her fury and attacked, relieving the Hunter of his weapon half a breath after the second bullet found its mark.
Mallory held the gun in her fist and punched it into the Hunter’s chest, spraying blood on the floor and wall behind him as she broke his spine with the weapon.
She heard the slamming and locking of a heavy door at the end of the hallway and the opening of two more. She ignored the one that had opened three floors up and rushed for the one a scant few yards from her. Within the room were creatures of prey with no fight in them. She’d feed, not fight.
As Mallory hit the threshold of the holding room, Leigh found himself in the hospital-like hallway. He smelled and saw blood—made all the more shocking to the eyes because of how clean and white the floors were in the areas not drenched in gore.
Something was wrong, he knew. He called on all of his speed to reach Mallory before the worst happened.
Coming up behind his youngling, Leigh locked his arms around her and heaved her back from her terror-stricken family. She was soaked in blood and seething with feral rage, he saw with mortified desperation. The Munetero claimed her even sooner than it previously had.
“Mallory,” he shouted as she struggled against him. She clawed his arms, bringing up blood and growling like a rabid wolf. “Mallory, Mallory…” He lowered his voice and pressed his mouth against her ear, repeating her name as a calming mantra.
“Come back to me,” he begged. “Don’t leave me again. Not like this.”
As Leigh spoke, Mallory gradually calmed. The strength of insanity drained out of her. She saw her family, saw how utterly terrified of her they were, and she cried. The tears were frigid, cutting through the blood that was still warm on her face.
“Leigh,” she whimpered in confusion. “Leigh, what happened?”
Leigh eased his grip from around Mallory and she slid to the floor, sobbing. She stared at her bloodied hands while her family members stared at Leigh.
“Who are you?” Luke demanded to know. He couldn’t bear to look at his daughter, or whatever she was now. “What have you done to her?”
“Perhaps now isn’t the time.” With this curt suggestion, Leigh pulled Mallory to her feet. Luke would have to drive, he decided. Mallory was in no shape to do so.
“Let’s get out of here, then we can talk.”
Without responding to that, Luke took Annette by the hand and grabbed Junior with the other. They gave Mallory a wide berth as they left the room. It broke Leigh’s heart to see their fear and distrust. He couldn’t imagine how much it must hurt Mallory.
They left the five remaining Hunters that had escape Mallory’s Munetero-induced slaughter pissing themselves in their safe rooms. When they approached her car and Leigh made to help her into the passenger seat, Luke stopped him.
“She’s not riding with us.” His stiff tone cut daggers into Mallory’s heart.
“We need to go to your home and speak,” Leigh insisted.
Luke retorted, “Then find another way there.”
Holding his hand out for the keys, he gave one short nod as Mallory handed them over. Blood got on her collection of key chains that indicated her astrological sign and mottos. Luke wiped the ones that touted, “A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand,” and, “I’m immature, irresponsible and loud, but at least I’m FUN!” on his pants before he opened the door. He adjusted the driver’s seat, slid inside, and started the car.
“Let’s go,” he ordered his son and w
ife. Annette reached out to Mallory, wanting to touch her, but she jumped and got in the passenger seat when Luke barked her name. Leigh saw her begin to cry as they drove away.
“Henry?” Leigh said in a heavy tone. He got no response. It was possible Henry had returned to Leigh’s house, which irritated him. He’d been told to keep the exit secure. “Let’s go, Mallory.”
She allowed him to take her hand and coax her into a run. Leigh felt her silently weeping the entire time they ran.
Chapter Twelve
Mallory and Leigh reached the Wright family home before her parents and siblings showed up in her vehicle. Mallory sat on the porch and continued to cry. Leigh stood beside her, uncomfortable in his silence. He didn’t want to make things worse for her, so he didn’t urge her to speak.
How had he managed this with Marlyna, he wondered to himself. It was so much more heart-rending to see Mallory suffering through the Munetero again.
“They hate me!” Mallory gasped morosely. “What happened to me, Leigh? Why did I do that? I was going to kill them!”
“It’s just something that happens,” Leigh offered lamely. He knew it was an ineffective statement, but he pressed on. “We need to return you to your humanity and we need to find someone who can protect you. Henry will help, but we need someone else.”
“Not Henry.” Mallory was too tired and hurt to fight not to show her distaste for the older vampire. “I never want his help. I don’t trust him.”
“All right.” Leigh didn’t push the issue. Henry was hard to get along with sometimes. He didn’t want to risk agitating Mallory by quoting Henry’s qualities to her, but he vowed to himself that he would probe her immense disliking of his maker at a later time.
Mallory’s vehicle pulled into the driveway, cutting their conversation short. Luke, Annette, and Junior got out and approached the front of the house. Luke didn’t even look at Mallory as he made his way up the stairs to unlock the door.
Mallory said, “Dad,” but he ignored her and walked inside.
Annette took Mallory’s hands and did a remarkable job of not cringing at the dried blood that coated them.
“You should clean your car, dear,” she said simply before hurriedly entering the house as well.
Junior helped Mallory to her feet. He was slightly wide-eyed and still shaken, but he pulled Mallory in for a quick hug.
“What are you into now, Mal?” he asked softly.
Though she wanted to cling to her baby brother, Mallory stood stiffly and let him hold her. She could smell his blood and human frailty. She didn’t want to take the risk of hurting him by squeezing him back. He backed away and sighed.
“Let’s go face the wrath of Dad.” It was something they’d said throughout their youth. Hearing it made Mallory’s tears return in force.
Junior gave Leigh a very suspicious look, but allowed him to enter his parents’ home, regardless. He closed the door when everyone was inside.
“You can come in without an invitation, huh?” Luke’s sarcastic question was met with stony silence from Leigh and faster flowing tears from Mallory.
“Dad,” Junior’s tone walked the border between respectful and admonishing.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you wash up? I’ll wash your clothes while we talk.” Mallory was initially perplexed by her mother’s suggestion, but then she looked down at herself.
Her tank top was crusty with blood. Her arms were coated up to her biceps and from the neck wound which had already healed, she was wearing what amounted to a blood bib. Annette’s normal-sounding proposal that she wash up was difficult to process through so much insanity. It wasn’t as though it’d be Annette’s first load of laundry done after midnight, though, and that brought Mallory back to reality in some small measure.
“You haven’t forgotten where it is, Mal.” Junior gave her a little push on the back toward the bathroom as he continued speaking. “Go ahead. We’ll wait.”
“We should all change,” Annette added. They’d been in the same clothes for days. “And eat something, maybe.”
“And pack,” Leigh cut in. He didn’t want to impose, but the Hunters were a lot more numerous than those that remained at the compound. Others would be aware of what happened by now.
“You don’t tell us what to do,” Luke snarled as he tore the note left by the Hunters after their abduction from the fridge. He balled it up and tossed it in the trash. Leigh spoke to him calmly.
“They will return. Not to take you this time, because that failed spectacularly, but to put bullets in your heads. Mallory isn’t the only one who’s pissed them off, Luke. They aren’t fond of the rest of you, either.”
Annette came back from taking Mallory’s soiled clothes from her and glowered at her husband. She was in different clothing, and Junior was, as well. Both of the kids still had clothing at their parents’ house. Junior sometimes stayed in the spare room when he wanted to crash immediately after a shift and didn’t want to drive the additional twenty minutes to his house.
“Annette,” Luke started in a warning tone, but she’d switched her stance on the drive home. Luke was wrong. Mallory was her darling girl, and they were not going to treat her like a freak or a criminal no matter what had happened or what would happen.
“Don’t even start, Luke.” She held out the laundry basket in which she was collection dirty clothes toward him. “Dirty clothes. Let’s go.”
Luke glared murderously at his wife, but she met him back with equal ire. Imprisoned in the compound, she’d reverted to the shy, pliable weakling she’d been before she’d married Luke. Her first marriage had crumbled in the face of that weakness and she’d fought to become a stronger woman. Luke had admired that strength, though sometimes it caused them to fight so heatedly it was a wonder they hadn’t divorced.
Knowing it wasn’t the time for a knock-down, drag-out fight, Luke followed Annette to the laundry room, leaving Junior with Leigh. Mallory’s younger brother rounded on the vampire immediately.
“What are you? What is she?” Leigh arched an eyebrow at Junior’s questioning, but he responded in a straightforward voice.
“Vampire. I have made her what I am.”
“Why?” Junior asked, aghast.
“To save you,” Leigh replied with a shrug. “Though I wonder if we should regret that particular decision.”
“Dad’ll get over it,” Junior predicted with a wave in Leigh’s direction.
“Especially seeing as I plan to turn her back.” Leigh let his words sink in as he took a seat at the lovely oval dining room table. The wood was solid and nicely polished. He ran his hands over the smooth surface, thinking it looked expensive but not ludicrously so and was a handsome centerpiece for the homey room.
Junior took a seat opposite Leigh and clasped his hands together.
“You can do that?” he asked in surprise.
“In a way.” Leigh didn’t elaborate. He knew the livid Luke and sweet Annette would return shortly. He heard the shower shut off. Mallory would rejoin them soon, as well.
“You must convince your father to seek safety where I direct him. Please go pack for them while we wait for Mallory to dress.”
Junior wanted to talk more, but he believed Leigh’s words of caution. He got to his feet and moved purposefully toward his parents’ room.
While Junior packed, Mallory returned from the bathroom wearing her mother’s large, white robe. Her hair was combed back away from her face and was already beginning to curl. Her features were painfully highlighted by her lack of makeup and the obvious stress she was under. Lashes, long and thick even without cosmetic help, fanned out around wide, shell-shocked blue eyes. Her mouth hung very slightly parted, still pink and plump even without lipstick. Instead of the light flush she normally carried in her cheeks, Mallory was as pale as the robe draped around her narrow shoulders.
“I got their toiletries together.” She held a large, leather shaving kit bag in which she’d packed hair products, toothpaste, spare to
othbrushes, deodorant, and soap.
Leigh’s throat was tight, packed full of things he wanted to say to her. It was even more inadvisable with everything that had happened, so instead he silently stood and helped her to a chair.
“You need to end this tonight. You cannot remain as you are even another day or you will risk destroying everything you love.” He spoke after she was seated, hoping the impact of his words would be lessened that way.
Mallory shook her head.
“I can’t do anymore killing tonight, Leigh,” Mallory whispered. Or ever again…she added silently.
Before he could argue, Luke and Annette returned.
“Where’s Junior?” Luke immediately demanded to know. His tone and the distrust in his angry expression let them know he didn’t put it past them to hurt Mallory’s brother.
“Right here, Dad.” Junior came from the hallway with two bulging duffle bags of his parents’ things and one backpack from the spare room full of his clothes. “I’m putting these in the truck. Go ahead and start talking if you want.”
“Mallory, sweetheart, go get dressed,” Annette suggested. Her smile was faint but genuine. “We’ll wait.”
* * * *
Jade slammed her hands on the steering wheel of her tiny Toyota, inexplicably angry with the car for being so small. She felt claustrophobically confined, but logically told herself it wasn’t her car’s size that was pissing her off, it was failure.
She’d been following Lydia for weeks before she finally found out what was going on. At first, she’d been insane with anger. Lydia was handing over people like them—well, not exactly like them. They were the only clutch of Dragons in America. Still, Lydia was giving unique humans over to a group of men who were doing God only knew what with them after Lydia delivered. Jade had to know why.
It hadn’t taken long for Jerry to get his claws into her, as well. Finding her skulking around their place of operations one night, he’d offered her Lydia’s life in return for her service. In secret had been the contingency. He wouldn’t have Lydia killed if Jade didn’t let her know that they’d become employed by the same people. Jerry told Jade about what had happened with the last mission Lydia had been given. She’d helped the targets escape, though Jerry had been fuzzy as to how she’d done so.
Pierced [Pain & Love 2] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 9