by Gayla Twist
But the girl was on my mind. My stomach growled as I came to the realization that I had an uncontrollable need to find her. And to find her before anybody else did.
The injured man grabbed as many stakes as he could scrounge and then, instead of running, he started lunging at vampires. He knew that it was against the rules for any of the undead to touch him until after the lead time was up and he must have figured he might as well try to reduce our numbers. The man was obviously a highly trained athlete with impressive strength and fast reflexes. But he wasn’t much of a match for the undead. Many of the hunters gathered around him, taunting him, inciting his rage and fear. The mortal landed several glancing blows, causing his tormentors to howl in pain, but nothing that was a death-strike for the undead. I found myself admiring the mortal. He knew he wouldn’t survive, but by engaging as many of the undead as he could, he would give the other prey a longer lead time to get away.
After the fifteen minutes were up, Alfred fired the starter piston again. Many of the undead hunters took to the air, pursuing the easy pickings who were still running across the field, although at some distance. Of course the scrum of undead who had surrounded the brawny man fell upon him. I did not pause to watch his grisly demise. Instead I rose into the air and headed for the woods; I needed to find the young woman with the hazel eyes.
The woods were quite ancient, thick with old trees and covered with undergrowth. I pitied the girl for I knew she must have been having a hard time of it. There was no obvious path, only a few animal trails that meandered with no clear destination.
I scanned the air all around me and was relieved to see that no other vampires were nearby. The hunters had either chosen the field or the scrum. That relieved some of my anxiety. I had no idea why the young lady felt so important to me; all I knew was I had to be the first hunter to find her.
I flew back and forth over the treetops, staying as low to the branches as I could without getting snagged. It would have been easier to fly higher, but that would have also drawn the attention of other vampires. There were several times when I caught sight of moment on the forest floor, but it always turned out to be a deer or rabbit. Even the animals were acting skittish and I wondered if they sensed something unnatural was going on.
After several minutes of scanning the ground in the area that I deemed a mortal could run in fifteen minutes, I expanded my search. These were physically superior mortals, after all.
It was only a few more minutes before I spied her. She’d tied back her long hair and shed her red jacket, which had made her more difficult to spot. I was impressed; she’d covered a large amount of rough terrain. She must have been some type of cross country runner because she threaded through the undergrowth with a remarkable amount of agility and grace.
Descending into the trees, I landed a good fifteen feet in front of the young woman. Her cheeks were red and I could practically hear her heart pumping blood; it made my stomach growl even louder.
The young lady didn’t scream. Instead she grabbed a broken branch off the ground and brandished it in my direction. “Leave me alone,” she said in a hoarse voice, as she gasped for air.
“You don’t understand,” I said, taking several steps toward her, my hands raised as if to gentle a wild mustang.
“Get the hell away from me, Hunger Games,” she shouted, swinging the branch at my head. Being struck by wood probably wouldn’t kill me, unless it was a very lucky blow, — not enough of the wood would penetrate my body — but it wouldn’t feel good either and it was not something I wanted to experience. Fortunately, I could easily dodge the blow. Her reflexes were fast, but not the lightning speed of a mine.
“I’m here to help you,” I said, even as I felt my body craving her blood.
“Yeah, right,” she scoffed.
Something made me glance up and I noticed two of the undead canvassing the woods from the sky. I quickly relieved the mortal of her weapon, wrapped my arms around her, and then pressed her tightly against the trunk of an enormous oak tree. I don’t know if she intended to scream, but I clamped my hand over her mouth as a precaution against it.
“Be quiet,” I hissed in her ear as she struggled against me. “There’s two right above us. Don’t move.”
She stopped struggling, but I could feel her muscles were tense, her body straining against me. I am ashamed to admit that it stimulated me in an unexpected way that made me shift my hips to avoid additional contact. What was it about this girl that affected me so? By mortal standards she was attractive, but not the most devastatingly beautiful woman in the world. But there was something about her that made me want to protect her and take care of her.
After several minutes of scanning the woods, the hunters flew off to seek their prey elsewhere. I released the young woman and she staggered away from me, tripping and falling on her backside with a thump.
She was terrified, but I held my hand out to help her anyway. “If we go now, I think I can probably get you to the fence.”
“Why would you do that?” she asked, getting to her feet without my assistance.
“I don’t know,” I had to admit, shaking my head. “It’s just something I feel compelled to do.”
She nodded, and then with great caution stepped forward and reached for my still extended hand. A second later and she was in my arms; we were flying low to the ground as I weaved us between the trees.
After stifling an initial scream, the young woman did everything within her power to aid me, clinging to my chest and trying not to squirm.
It took a physically fit mortal at least thirty minutes to run five miles on even ground. Rough terrain would slow things down to maybe even an hour. “Why did you chose the woods?” I asked her as we flew.
“Cover,” she managed to say. “Plus, there’s wood in woods,” she pointed out. “Also, I’m a cross-country runner. The woods are my specialty. I can usually catch anyone ahead of me in the woods.
I nodded. It made sense that Alfred would have selected her as one of the prey for the hunting party.
“How did you end up here?” I asked.
“Training,” she told me. “I was running through the woods.”
“Alone?”
She nodded. “Listening to music, like an idiot.”
“I guess you won’t do that again, once you’re clear of this place,” I observed.
“Does anyone ever survive one of these things?” she asked, slightly turning the subject. She’d probably already mentally beaten herself up over her foolishness. “I mean, do any humans ever survive?”
“I’m not sure,” I told her. “I’ve never been to one before. But I intend to see that you survive.” The woods began to thin and I could see the perimeter fence ahead of us.
“Why?” It wasn’t clever of her to question my motives, but she did it anyway.
“I don’t know.”
At the edge of the woods I set her down. “Stand near that tree,” I instructed, pointing to a maple. I wanted to survey the area to make sure it was clear of any undead. A quick scan of the sky and the ground assured me that we were more than likely alone.
“Do you think you can scale that chain link fence on your own?” I asked, nodding toward the twelve foot fence that surrounded Uncle Alfred’s property. There was barbed wire at the top, which would make things rather tricky.
“I can,” she said, sounding confident.
“Good. I’d fly you over, but I’m not sure what kind of surveillance has been set up.” I assumed Uncle Alfred would have some kind of cameras installed, although I hadn’t seen any. “Once you’re over, I need you to wait for me on the other side.”
She nodded, although I wasn’t sure if she intended to listen to me.
After giving our surroundings another quick scan, I said, “Okay, it’s now or never.”
The young woman got ready to run, but then she paused. “Who is she?” she asked.
“Who?”
She gave a slight smile. “The girl I re
mind you of.”
I shook my head. “I have no idea.”
“I feel like I want to kiss you,” she said, her cheeks blooming into a lovely shade of pink as she said it. “To say thank you for saving me.”
I felt my stomach growl quite keenly, so I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
And then she was running across the open grass, stripping off her shirt and revealing a pale lavender brassier underneath. Leaping into the air, she clung to the fence and started climbing, the shirt in her teeth. At the top she quickly spread the shirt over the barbed wire and then rolled over it. She tried snatching the shirt off the fence as she dropped to the ground, but it caught on one of the barbs and tore. Putting it back on anyway, she held the held the rip in the fabric shut, concealing her bosom.”
“I’m supposed to influence you,” I told her, striding over to the fence. “It’s so you won’t remember there are vampires.”
That made her frown. “But then I won’t remember you.”
“It’s probably for the best,” I told her. “Knowing about the existence of the undead can lead to madness.”
“Can you try to make it so I at least remember you a little?” she asked, her hazel eyes pleading.
“I’ll try,” I assured her. “Now look into my eyes.” I held her gaze for several seconds before saying, “There is no such thing as vampires or the undead. You were never in any real danger, just a bit frightened. You went out for a run and then became lost in the woods. You tripped on a root, hit your head, and lost consciousness. When you came to, you were disoriented. You wandered around, getting more lost and confused. You tried scaling a fence and got your shirt caught on some barbed wire.” Here I paused for a moment. There were plenty of holes in my story, but I didn’t have time to come up with a better one. I momentarily struggled with the desire to tell her that a young man with blond hair and gray eyes helped her find her way, but I knew that wouldn’t be fair. So I continued with, “You stayed calm and eventually found your way out of the woods.”
“I understand,” she said, even though she looked forlorn. “So, after this moment, I won’t remember you at all.”
This surprised me. Most mortals were very obedient when under a vampire’s influence, never questioning anything. “No. I told her. You will not remember me. Not even a little bit.”
She nodded her head. “I’ll try.”
I wasn’t sure if she meant she would try to forget me or try to remember me, but there wasn’t time to find out. The longer we spoke, the greater chance we risked of being caught. “You should go now,” I told her. “I think there’s a road straight ahead. You can flag somebody down to help you.”
She gave me a soft smile. ‘Thank you,” she said. “And goodbye.” Then she turned and started running at a brisk pace toward the road. She didn’t look back.
When I turned to slip back into the woods, I saw Misty leaning against a tree, staring at me with those incredibly eyes. “I don’t think you get any points if you let the mortal go.”
“Oh,” I said. She’d caught me off-guard. “I guess it’s too late now; she’s already over the fence.”
“Some people might call that cheating,” she observed, although there was no malice behind her words.
I shook my head. “Uncle Alfred didn’t say there was any rule against it,” I pointed out.
This made Misty release a bright giggle and I was relieved to realize she wasn’t really angry. “You’re a peculiar creature, Dorian.”
I thought I was Darius,” I reminded her.
The amusement faded from her face and she cocked her head to one side. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Chapter 12
Dorian
We returned to the mansion separately; Misty didn’t think it would be appropriate if we appeared together. “How’d you do?” Uncle Alfred called out as he saw me approaching.
“Only one kill,” I told him. “The young woman with the long brown hair. She was a good runner.”
“Must have been a clean kill,” he observed; there wasn’t a speck of blood on me.
“Very clean.”
“Where’s the body?” he wanted to know, impatience seeping into his words.
“Left it in the woods,” I said with a shrug. “Was I supposed to bring it back? I didn’t know there was a protocol.”
“That’s damn inconvenient of you,” he said, clearly annoyed. “How are we supposed to get a proper head count?”
“I apologize,” I said, bowing my head a little. “I didn’t realize. But there has to be plenty of hunters with a higher count than one.”
“It’s the principal of the thing,” Alfred snorted. “Leaving a corpse out to rot in the woods like so much discarded trash. That’s just ungentlemanly behavior.”
“I’m sorry; I wasn’t thinking,” I told him. “I’ll go out and retrieve it after the festivities are over.”
“See that you do,” Alfred said in a scolding tone. “We’re not that kind of house.” It was fine for him to feign superiority when he was openly hunting mortals on his property.
The hunting party didn’t end very socially. Too many of the hunters wanted credit for the death of the beefy man with the repeating crossbows. But the truth of the matter was, he’d been torn to bits. A vampiress was accused of catching a mortal on the other side of the fence and dragging him onto Alfred’s property to be killed. The poor man wasn’t even part of the original prey; she just thought no one would notice the difference, as long as she made his death bloody enough. But she was found out when all of the mortals’ bodies were tallied, minus the one I had supposedly left in the woods.
The whole thing churned my stomach and I yearned to lie down and blot out the events of the night. I thought maybe some food would help, but the fact that the blood served on Uncle Alfred’s estate probably wasn’t from a blood bank didn’t help my mood any.
“I’m surprised you’re hungry after sucking a whole human dry,” I heard a voice say as I helped myself to a goblet from one of the trays the servants were offering.
I turned to see a vampire, quite tall and very broad in the shoulders. His clothes were caked with mud and blood, which told me he’d found the hunt exhilarating.
“Oh the contrary, I’m practically starving,” I replied. “I thought the competition was simply for who got the most kills. I didn’t realize that we were also supposed to drain the bodies.”
“You mean she’s still out there?” the vampire said, making a show of scanning the woods. “A fresh kill just brimming with juices?”
“Not so fresh anymore,” I said, wrinkling my nose to show my distaste. “Besides, I ripped her throat out and then stuffed her in an obliging fox’s den. I’m sure there’s not much blood left in her by now.”
“We should still retrieve her carcass,” the man insisted. “Plus, I don’t think you get credit for the kill if you can’t produce an actual body.”
“You may bring her in, if you wish,” I said with a casual wave toward the woods. “I left her under a large maple tree in about the center of the forest. I’m sure you can sniff her out.”
“You refuse to come with me, Damon?” the man asked, doing his best to take offence.
“Maybe later,” I told him. “I’m afraid I didn’t enjoy the hunt as much as I thought I would.” And then I added, “And it’s Darren, by the way.”
“Darren?” He gave me a hard look. “Are you sure?”
I did my best to suppress a laugh. “Quite sure. I should think I know my own name.”
After that I decided the easiest way to avoid answering questions about my kill during the hunt was to not be around the other hunters. Waiting for an opportune moment, I grabbed a carafe and a goblet from the mortal staff and slipped off to my room. Besides avoiding questions that I obviously couldn’t answer, I needed time to think.
Why did I feel so compelled to save that young woman? And why was I at this isolated mansion where everyone pretended to be my
friend, but it was obvious that no one actually knew me? And as far as I could tell, Uncle Alfred actually harbored a deep-seated animosity toward me. The only person who appeared to be genuinely kind was Misty. But she was obviously hiding something because she was playing the game along with the others.
I carried the carafe and my drink out onto a small balcony off of my room. My view was of the back of the estate, so the chances of any member of the hunting party spying me were slim.
As I reclined in one of the lounge chairs that the porch provided, I wondered if Misty would feel compelled to reveal to anyone that I had let the young mortal free. Or maybe she’d been instructed to keep an eye on me; I could see no other obvious reason why she’d followed me into the woods in the first place. But my gut told me no; she would keep my secret. At least for now.
I heard voices and realized that some vampires had gathered on a porch on the main floor of the mansion, coincidentally below where I was sitting. I didn’t normally eavesdrop, but I did need to figure out what was going so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to listen. And besides, I had been sitting there first; it wasn’t like I was sneaking about.
“Any news?” a man asked.
“There wouldn’t be so soon.” I could tell by the impatience in his voice that the speaker was Uncle Alfred.
“Does he suspect anything?” a woman wanted to know.
“Why would he?” said Alfred.
“Why wouldn’t he?” she countered.
“He’s fine,” Alfred said, dismissing her question. “He’s as dim as a post. I know his memory has been wiped, but I don’t think he had much of a brain to begin with.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” the woman said. “And he’s going to start remembering eventually.”
Alfred snorted. “He can’t even remember his own name.”
“Why do you hate the Vanderlinds so much?” the man asked, reinserting himself into the conversation.