Ignite: Paranormal Romance Series (Burning Moon Book 2)
Page 8
I marched downstairs and stood at the bottom of the steps, where the other six clan members waited. They were dressed in their best and ready for a long trip. Maria held her two suitcases. I assumed the other bags were already packed into the two cars we’d drive to who-knew-where. Victor conveniently left out the details.
“Where are your things?” Victor asked.
“I’m not going.”
A brief look of panic crossed his face. Elizabeth put her hand on his arm, and he seemed to calm. Victor looked into her eyes and nodded.
He took a step toward me, and I flinched, ever so slightly. It wasn’t lost on Victor, who stopped, looking tired and defeated. “If you stay, you will die, Olivia. Our enemies will find you. We won’t be here to protect you.” His expression softened. “I won’t be here to protect you. It is only a matter of time.”
I swallowed hard. “I’ll take care of myself. They’re your enemies, not mine.”
“Spoiled brat!” Edgar spat before turning to leave.
“Come with us, child. It’s not safe for you here,” Maria encouraged.
I shook my head. She sat her suitcases down before hugging me swiftly, then turned to follow Edgar out the front door.
“Are you quite sure, Olivia? These vampires are true monsters. They’ll have no mercy for you,” Lola said, looking sad about my decision. I felt a tug at my heart. I’d never had the impression she cared about what happened to me.
“I’m a monster. It takes one to know one, right?” I tried to lighten the tone and sound braver than I was feeling. I wasn’t used to such gentleness from them. It made me even more uncomfortable than normal.
“No, mon cher. Tu as toujours été—You were never a monster.” She turned and left without another word.
Victor looked torn. “Would it matter if I commanded you to come with us?”
I tensed. “I’d eventually run away. I want to stay,” I said firmly, raising my chin and preparing for a fight. If he tried to force me, I wouldn’t make it easy.
Victor shook his head and walked to the door. He stopped and looked back one more time, as if he wanted to say more but thought better of it. Was Victor sad or was I imagining it?
Only Elizabeth and Simon were left. Elizabeth came to me and brushed a kiss across my cheek. “He’s not as bad as you think. Victor has always had your best interest at heart. Be careful, Olivia.” And then she moved vamp-style and was gone in the blink of an eye.
I turned to find Simon watching me. “Hey.”
“Hey. You have my number. Call if you should ever need anything.” He walked over to me and hugged me tightly. He’d never hugged me before. I felt my eyes sting.
Before he could leave, I said, “I was hoping you’d want to stick around.”
He shook his head. “A lone vampire is a dead vampire. Are you sure you want to do this? There is still time.”
I looked away. “No, my mind is made up. I’m not running anymore. I’ve never fit with the rest of them—but I’ll miss you.” When he didn’t respond, I turned to look for him, fearing he’d already left, but he was still standing by the door. He nodded, giving me one of his rare smiles, then walked out the door before closing it softly.
I was truly alone for the first time in my life—living or dead.
The front-porch swing made a soft creaking sound as it swung back and forth. Soft light shone through the window of the now-silent house and spilled across the floor.
I heard Seth’s motorcycle long before I saw him pull up. He watched me as he killed the engine and pulled the black helmet off his head.
Slowly, he climbed off, leaving the helmet resting on the bike. His gaze never left mine as he cautiously walked toward the house. As he got closer, I focused on the motorcycle, trying to keep my emotions under control. I was so alone that even Seth’s presence couldn’t chase away the chill in my bones.
He tentatively climbed the stairs, finally looking around cautiously, before coming to stand before me. When I didn’t acknowledge him, he dropped to one knee and placed his hands on mine. “Olivia?”
If I looked at him, I’d lose it. The last thread of control would start to unravel. What had I done?
“They left.”
“Who?”
“All of them.”
He blinked at me. “All?”
I nodded.
“Left? Like forever?”
I nodded again.
He searched my face, maybe trying to determine how close to a meltdown I really was. I supposed he’d had plenty of experience with people going into shock--typical for a firefighter and all.
“Why didn’t they take you with them?” His hands holding mine felt strong and warm.
Because I have a death wish. Because . . . I didn’t want to leave you. Because you make me feel alive again.
“I refused to leave.” My voice almost cracked, and I coughed to cover it up.
A slow smile spread across his face, and it lit up the darkness. That smile may have been the lifeline that I desperately needed. Either way, it was infectious, even if Seth didn’t realize the danger of a lone vampire, as Simon has suggested.
“I’m glad you stayed,” he said, standing and pulling me to my feet. “So this is where you live?”
He was glad I stayed?
The casual way he changed the subject, along with his seemingly genuine curiosity about the house, eased some of the tension in my body. Maybe I could enjoy what time I was left by pretending everything was fine. Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe the life I craved wasn’t as far from my reach as I assumed it was.
I gave him a weak smile and led him inside. “Would you like to come in?” I was relieved when my voice didn’t crack.
“I’d love to. Thought you’d never ask,” he said, sauntering in like he owned the place. He looked more at home here than I did. I had the feeling that Seth was comfortable in any situation. He fit everywhere, while I fit nowhere.
He looked all around, then headed into the living room to the left of the staircase and stood in front of the fire that burned in the hearth. He rubbed his hands together as he held them toward the fire.
Even though his gaze continued to study the details of the room, he kept stealing glances my way. His attention made the girl in me blush, and a sweet anxiousness returned. This wasn’t like flirting with guys for attention. I wanted Seth to like me--a notion that still caught me by surprise whenever I admitted it to myself.
Suddenly, I felt shy. I’d boldly kissed other guys and made out during the occasional date, but I was certainly a newbie when it came to men. I hid these facts behind a fearless personality, but it was a facade--a mask. Could Seth see through it?
He sat on the sofa closest to the fireplace and patted the seat next to him. I swallowed a lump in my throat and accepted his invitation. I focused on the flames of the fire—anything but Seth.
“Feel like telling me why the others left? It can’t be because your face made it on the nightly news. Surely, they know that it will blow over,” he said, turning toward me, his thigh touching mine.
His blue eyes were so intense. It was easy to see how a girl could get lost in them. The combination of light eyes with his dark hair was a striking contrast.
“Victor’s enemies would destroy his entire clan,” I said. He listened intently, without interruption. “That’s why we came here. Victor felt that they would only search the bigger cities because that’s where vampires tend to live. It’s easier to go undetected, you see?”
He nodded.
“I’d already been ripped from my family, and then I’d been dumped here. At first, I hated it. The forest, the people, the small college town felt somehow suffocating.”
Seth looked away for a moment, as if in thought. “And now?”
I gazed into the flames, feeling shy and wondering if he could read the answer on my face. “It’s grown on me. I’d never met shifters before. I’d heard of them but that’s all. And Zoey. I didn’t even know about witches, b
ut I could smell that she was different.” I looked at him now and saw something like understanding in his expression.
“I know what you mean. My brothers and I have been alone for a long time. We barely understand ourselves and know close to nothing about vampires or witches.” He looked at his hands and shook his head. “Makes you wonder what else is out there, doesn’t it?”
I smiled and nodded. I’d wondered the same thing but was too proud to ask the others. I didn’t like being the only one who didn’t know anything.
“You know we’re supposed to be natural enemies?” he said, taking my hand in his.
I looked down at his hand holding mine. “That’s what they say.”
“I don’t see you as my enemy. Why is that?” he asked.
When I raised my gaze back to his, my breath caught at the intense passion in his eyes. I shook my head slowly. There were no words for how I felt when he was near. This time when Seth leaned in to kiss me, I met him halfway.
12
It felt so strange and . . . normal to watch Seth leave.
But, as soon as he drove away in the early-morning darkness, the panic returned. It was almost magical being with Seth all night long. He kept the shadows away. For that time, I was glad the others were gone, but now my heart ached. Maybe it was loneliness. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was simply because I’d lived with them for seven years.
They were nothing to me, so why should I care if they’d gone? I’d been wishing to be free of them for as long as I could remember.
I walked through the silent house to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Damn it. I forgot that I was out of blood. Douglas texted to say he’d be a day late with the delivery because he was studying for a final. No big deal. I figured I could handle it--until I couldn’t.
Now I was hungry. It wasn’t safe to go too long without feeding. He’d deliver sometime today and I’d be fine. I needed to find things to do while I waited. I wouldn’t see Seth until the following evening because he was working a twenty-four-hour shift.
That seemed like an eternity, even if time was usually irrelevant to me. Going to see him at the station was out of the question. I was supposed to keep a low profile. Victor said there was no way to trace this house to us, so in theory, I should be safe here, even if I couldn’t be seen in public.
I walked in and out of every room in the house. Some I’d never entered was now mine to explore. It was intriguing to see what the others did when nobody was around.
Lola and Edgar’s room was a virtual contradicion with a Bible and a stack of space-opera novels. Not at all what I expected. I wondered who read what? I took the Bible and one of the novels to my room and put them in the drawer of my desk.
Next, I went from room to room, closing the large white plantation-style shutters that blocked out most of the sunlight during the day.
A heavy sigh escaped me as I plopped down on the couch. Sunlight drained me. I started another fire in the fireplace—mostly for the ambiance. I found the dancing flames comforting.
My body didn’t register hot or cold in regards to comfort. I could feel the warmth, and even the cold, but neither felt uncomfortable. The way heat affected me was more of a residual memory, like the way Seth’s hands felt touching mine. That feeling was pleasurable, but I no longer required the warmth.
After sitting there for a while, I sprawled across the couch and dozed. It was more like daydreaming with your eyes closed, but for all intents and purposes, I called it napping.
Ordinarily, I’d lock myself inside my room the entire day to avoid the others, but I didn’t need to do that now. The house was all mine, but somehow it didn’t feel like a victory. I missed Simon. Even though he was mostly quiet, he was a great listener.
I considered him a friend, even though I knew little about him. He came from Jamaica, but he was already a vampire when he crossed the sea. I tried several times to pull the details from him. He would never budge, so I quit asking.
Simon did tell me that he was loyal to Victor because Victor saved his life once. He wouldn’t elaborate beyond that. Simon knew all about me. He’d been there from the beginning, and I’d finally opened up to him when I decided he was the only one in the clan that I could tolerate being around. Later, I grew to trust him as well.
I wondered if I’d ever see Simon again.
As the day drug on, I grew hungrier. I placed a call to Douglas to ask what the holdup was. I paid him well for the simple weekly service and for his discretion.
There was no answer, and I didn’t leave a message. I never did. Douglas didn’t ask questions, and he delivered on time. I’d leave his payment under the doormat, and he’d leave my delivery in a small foam cooler by the door. If he knew what I used the blood for, he never mentioned it. Then again, I rarely saw him in person. It was better that way.
If he didn’t bring the blood soon, I’d have to find a donor—something I wasn’t looking forward to. The expression in Seth’s eyes the night he knew I’d bitten that guy still bothered me. I wanted to be angry at him, but it was me that I was disappointed with.
I didn’t want Seth to look at me like that—like a vampire. It wasn’t as if I could change what I was, but I could choose how to live. The thought of feeding off someone made me anxious. I was agitated and hungry. Not a good combination. It would be a bad time for someone selling cookies or vacuum cleaners to ring the doorbell.
As a diversion, I searched through Victor and Elizabeth’s bedroom. It was the largest of the private suites. Their reading material was more diverse than Edgar and Maria’s. There were books by Jane Austen and William Shakespeare, Science and Life magazines, and even a novel by Stephen King.
Lazily, I sat down at Victor’s desk and opened drawers until I found one that was locked. I went into the bathroom and found a metal nail file and a bobby pin before returning to the desk.
After working on the lock for twenty minutes, I became frustrated and ripped it open by brute force. The face of the drawer exploded with a small shower of splintered wood. I pulled the rest of the drawer out and sifted through its contents. There was a small locket with a tiny painted picture of a young girl. Like me, she had long dark hair.
I turned the locket over and found an inscription on the back. To Mother with love, Annabelle Victoria.
The girl in the tiny picture wore a high-collared dress made of lace, and her hair was pulled back by a ribbon. I am no historian, but the picture looked to be from the eighteenth, or nineteenth, century.
I wondered about the girl and who she was to Victor. He had never spoken of a family. She was too young to have been a bride. I sat the locket aside. There were several folders with papers in them. I laid them onto the desk and opened one. There were legal documents, some of which I didn’t understand, but all of the papers listed Victor A. Monroe as the owner. Monroe was not the name Victor went by.
I riffled through the documents until I came across an old yellowed paper. After skimming it, I believed it was the original deed to this house. The date was October 29, 1896.
Victor didn’t purchase this house for us recently. He’d owned this home since it was built over a hundred years ago. How many other homes did he own?
Did that mean he’d someday return when he was certain it was safe? He’d be mad about the desk. I looked down at the mangled drawer with a twinge of guilt.
Suddenly, I felt bad about going through his things. I’d assumed it was a rented home and everything in it belonged to someone else and held no personal value. I began putting the items back where I’d found them as best I could. There was no repairing the desk, so I laid the broken pieces on the top. I’d figure out a way to repair it later.
I left the room, softly closing the door before going downstairs to stare into the empty fridge again. It was already late in the day, and unless Douglas had already picked up the blood from the butcher, he wouldn’t have any to deliver until tomorrow.
The sun seemed to set slower than usual. I pulled on a
baseball cap, a scarf that I didn’t really need, and my leather jacket. A pair of black-rimmed glasses helped disguise my appearance enough that no one was going to recognize me. Even, I didn’t recognize the person looking back from the mirror.
When I felt the sun make its final descent below the tree line, I was out the door in a flash. I would pay Douglas a personal visit and then give him a scary piece of my mind. He’d better have something for me.
Douglas lived in a small studio guest house behind an elderly couple’s home, next to the college campus. I’d stalked Douglas before I’d approached him with a job offer. I knew he lived alone and that he was a struggling graduate student with mounting debt because he wasn’t a trust-fund baby. He worked two jobs and kept to himself, mostly.
Douglas occasionally met people for drinks, but he never got drunk and he never stayed long.
He was a smart loner who needed money. He jumped at my offer with no more than a curious look and no prying questions. It had been a beautiful arrangement, until now. I wasn’t looking forward to going through that process again.
Dusk vanished with the coming night. From the dark street, I could see an elderly couple sitting in their living room with the television on.
I moved silently to the small studio apartment in the back. It was dark, and even the porch light was out. His bike was chained to a tree near the entrance. If he was gone, he must have left with someone.
Testing the doorknob, I found it unlocked. I opened the door. It was dark and quiet. I flipped on the light switch and looked around. The apartment was orderly and neat. Everything seemed tidy and in its place.
The bed was made, and the desk was clear. I went into the kitchenette and looked around. The only thing out of place was an almost full pot of coffee. Next to it sat a full cup of coffee, untouched.
And then the wrongness of it all hit me hard. Douglas was a detail-oriented guy. He had routines, and his routines were precise habits. The guy pinched every penny. He wouldn’t make an entire pot of coffee just to leave it.