by Gayla Twist
“Thank you,” one of the burnt figures managed to croak before collapsing.
“Oh my God,” I gasped, my hands flying to my mouth, which still felt all hot and rubbery from the sun. “What can we…?” I looked at Dorian. “Can we do anything to help them?”
“No.” He shook his head, not looking at the men. He kept just staring at me, his eyes like two storm clouds. “The only thing we can do is keep them out of the light and give them time to heal. Food should help, but they’ll need time to regenerate.”
He was gazing at me so intensely that I put up my hands up again, trying to hide my face. “Don’t look at me,” I mumbled. I knew I looked hideous. Plus Dorian was being so formal that it was starting to freak me out. Didn’t he love me anymore? Didn’t he want to sweep me in his arms? That’s all I wanted; just to be held by him.
But Dorian was all business. “Put all our guests in one room,” Dorian said to the giant while ushering me toward the door. The touch of his hand on the small of my back was wonderful, but I could tell there was no intent behind it; he was simply guiding me like he would guide an elderly relative.
“Feed them well,” Dorian continued giving orders over his shoulder, “but have at least six armed guards on them at all times. “I don’t want more of their nonsense.”
“Yes, Mr. Wanderlind,” the large man said, bending over to pick up the closest charred member of the undead.
Dorian quickly led me to a bedroom all covered in soothing moss-green fabrics. A staff member magically appeared with a carafe and two goblets. “We’ll need another carafe right away,” Dorian said to the young man. “And speak with Gloria; see what can be done about finding Miss Scott some clothes.”
“Yes, sir,” the mortal said with a slight bow.
“After a little food and a hot shower, I’m sure you’ll feel right as rain,” Dorian said, helping me to the bed.
I was just so happy to be with Dorian again, but he was acting so weird and distant that I didn’t know what to make of it. Had his feelings toward me changed? He obviously cared enough to crouch out in the dawn, waiting to snatch me out of the sky. But that could have just been the feelings a maker had for his progeny. Maybe he didn’t feel about me the way he used to, or at least the way he claimed he did. I knew my heart didn’t beat anymore, but I could feel it breaking deep inside my chest. When I felt the tears welling up in my eyes again, I tried to suppress them, — I didn’t want Dorian to know that I was so weak — but it was all too much and I burst into giant sobs.
“Here, drink this,” Dorian said, pressing a full goblet into my hands. Then he sat down next to me on the bed at an awkward distance. “You’re safe now,” he told me. “Everything is going to be fine.”
I didn’t want to be just fine, I wanted to shout at him; I wanted to be in love.
After I glugged a couple of goblets of blood, I felt a lot more together. “Your face is already starting to heal,” Dorian noted, brushing my hair back from my forehead. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against his hand. I probably shouldn’t have, but I felt too tired and weak to hide my feelings.
Dorian’s face was stern, like it had been carved out of stone. Looking deep into my eyes, he said, “There’s a lot I must tell you, and a lot I need to hear from you. But first, there’s something I need to know.”
“What?” I asked. It felt like there was a ball of lead in my gut.
Dorian leaned closer, looking even deeper into my eyes, the lips I so desperately wanted to kiss forming a tight line. Then he said in a quiet, steady voice, “Despite everything that has happened, and whatever lies you were told about me, do you still love me?”
“What?” I exclaimed. Did he even have to ask?
“Do you still love me?”
“More than anything,” I blurted, the tears instantly rolling down my cheeks again. “I don’t think I could ever stop.”
Pulling me to him, Dorian kissed me very deeply. “I know I couldn’t."
Chapter 23
Dorian
Despite everything that has happened to me in the course of my life, I consider myself to be a very lucky man. I could have so easily not been there for Haley; I could have so easily waited for her at her mother’s care facility, or stalked the streets of Chicago in search of her. But something told me to head for the castle; I was drawn there. And thank God that I went.
My poor darling had nearly been scorched to death, being hunted as she crossed the countryside. She had no one to help her and nowhere to hide during the daylight hours, but some little girl’s treehouse. Again I marveled at my progeny’s strength and resiliency. Most human beings, be they mortal or immortal, would have crumbled at having been deceived about having a father. I couldn’t imagine how brutally it must have been, discovering that everything was an elaborate deception, just so that already wealthy people could line their pockets even further. Yes, Elaina did give a very impassioned speech about how she needed a child to feel alive again, but I had a feeling that her maternal urges wouldn’t have been so strong if a baby didn’t also come with a fat bank account.
I also counted myself lucky by the fact that Haley was able to see through Elaina’s ruse back in Antarctica. Of course initially she’d been upset — who wouldn’t be, given the circumstances — but she was able to eventually look past her emotions and figure out the charade. It was incredible.
Not that I would have blamed Haley if she didn’t believe me. I’ve been a cad most of my life so there was no real reason for Haley to believe that I’d ceased being a scoundrel. Elaina had known exactly how to play the situation and she had pulled it off with impeccable timing; I had to give her that. And yet I’d walked away from her Chicago penthouse without exacting retribution. It was true that I was in a rush to save my progeny, but the whole experience had made one thing abundantly clear; loving Haley was making me soft.
I thought about this truth for a moment — my transformation into a love-soaked sop was a bitter pill for my ego to swallow — but then I decided that I didn’t care. Loving Haley was worth any sacrifice I had to make.
At that moment Haley exited the bathroom where she had been showering. I watched her from the bed. Her face had already almost healed. Her right cheek was still shiny and scarred looking, but in another hour she would be good as new.
“I can’t believe you didn’t end up drinking from anyone during your flight across the Midwest,” I observed as she poured herself another goblet full of blood from the fresh carafe I’d had sent in while she bathed. “I’ve always said that you have remarkable self-control.”
“I was worried about stopping myself from hurting the little girl,” she admitted after taking several large gulps. “But besides that I mostly avoided any place that I might run into a mortal. That helped a lot.” Then she came over to snuggle up on the bed with me, leaving me acutely aware that she was wearing just a robe.
I went to get up. “I’ll check and see where we are in the progress of getting you some clothes.”
“Relax, Dorian,” she said in a half-scolding tone. “I’m not going to try to seduce you.” And then she smiled before adding, “At least not right now.”
This made me smile. She was obviously feeling a bit better if she was able to tease me.
“So where is your family?” Haley asked. “Where are the rest of the Vanderlinds? I thought I would be facing your aunt, or cousins, or someone; I wasn’t expecting you.”
“That’s a bit of a mystery,” I told her. “Nobody’s home. I don’t know where they went.” When she gave me a concerned look, I added, “I’m sure they’ve all jetted off to Venice or something like that.” The truth of the matter was, I had no idea what had happened to my family. Viggo probably knew, if I pressed him for an answer, but since my arrival at the castle, I’d been solely focused on saving Haley. And that was going to continue to be my focus until I knew that she was well and truly safe.
“I can’t believe you had your memory erased,” she said, leaning h
er head on my chest. “I was trying so hard to figure out what had happened to you, but I never would have guessed that you were on some country estate hunting humans.”
“I think it served its purpose,” I said, wrapping my arms tightly around her. “If I had woken up shackled in a basement or strapped to a table in some hospital, then I would have struggled a lot harder to remember who I was. But to wake up in a household of old friends… That made everything seem less urgent, so it was really rather an ingenious ploy.”
There was a knock at the door and we sprang apart like teenagers being caught on the couch, rather than a century old vampire and his progeny. “Come in,” I called, sliding off the bed and availing myself of the contents of the carafe.
Viggo opened the door, he was holding a selection of clothes on hangers. “Excuse me, Mr. Wanderlind, but I took the liberty of selecting some clothes from your aunt’s closet so that your progeny has something to wear until the maid that I sent returns from the store.” He added, “I am sorry for the intrusion to your aunt’s privacy, but she is a better fit for the young lady than my Gloria.”
“Thank you, Viggo,” I said, crossing the room to accept the clothes. When the giant hesitated for a moment I asked, “Is there anything else?”
“Yes,” he said, looking dour, although that just seemed to be the way he tended to look. “Your guests have recovered enough that I’m sure they can answer a few questions, if you have any to ask.”
“Ah.” That was good news. “Thank you for telling me. I will speak with them directly.”
Viggo understood from my body language that I had no further need of him at the moment, and left the room. The man was remarkably good at his job and I had to wonder where my cousin, Jesse, had ever found him.
“So they’re alive,” Haley asked in a small voice from the bed. “Those men that were chasing me?” After I gave her a nod, she said, “They were in such bad shape; I’d wondered if they would survive.”
“I’ve seen worse,” I told her. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that right after World War II, it had been popular for the undead to compete to see who could stand being out in the sun the longest. Some of the undead would wait until they were nothing but melted flesh and exposed bone before signaling to be yanked back into the dark by a safety rope. And all too often immortals — especially the veterans who had seen a lot during the war — didn’t give the signal in time, so there wasn’t enough left of them to regenerate. Given my progeny’s recent ordeal, I decided to save that undead history lesson for another day. Instead I said, “But you’d be surprised at the regenerative powers of the undead. I mean, look at you.” I cradled her cheek in my hand. “You’ve healed remarkably quickly, even for a fledgling.”
She looked at me with those incredibly hazel eyes of hers and all I wanted to do was kiss her. But we weren’t in the clear yet; there were enemy vampires in my family’s ancestral home, and more than likely dozens more out in the countryside, looking for Haley. I couldn’t get lost in her kisses until I knew she was safe.
“Hem…” I cleared my throat, trying to break the spell her eyes had cast upon me. “Now that you’re feeling better, I should really go and speak with our guests.”
Haley looked away. “Okay…” she said. “I understand.” She reached out and took the clothing from my hand. “But I’m going with you.”
“Do you really think that’s such a good idea?” She’d just been through quite an ordeal and I didn’t want to add to the trauma.
“Yes, I do,” she said, firmly. “I’m the one that’s being hunted; it’s my life that’s being torn apart. I need to be there. I need to hear what they have to say.”
“Okay.” I walked over and took a seat in a nearby chair. “I’ll wait for you.”
“Really?” She acted surprised and then cracked into a smile. “I honestly thought you were going to give me more of a fight.”
Ten minutes later and we were headed to the guest bedrooms. It wasn’t too challenging to guess where our new friends were being kept due to the half a dozen mortal guards who were posted in the hall. They were well armed, bearing stakes, silver nets, and spiked wooden clubs. I made a mental note to suggest adding the new colloidal silver infused Tasers to the family weapon supply. But erasing these vampires’ memories wouldn’t serve my purpose; I wanted information. Haley was safe, as long as she stayed in the castle, but I couldn’t keep her confined forever. And the reward being offered for her capture must have been monumental if three members of the undead were willing to risk facing the sun just to get a hold of her.
The guards parted without me having to say a word. Fortunately, six more were posted inside the room. The vampires no longer looked like burnt logs in a fireplace. They now appeared more like wax figures in Madame Tussauds’ museum, but ones that had been badly damaged in a fire. Most of their hair, eyebrows and eyelashes were missing, but they were all sitting upright and taking nourishment, so I knew it wouldn’t be long before they were their old selves again.
The men silently looked at us as we entered. I felt a wave of regret that I had allowed Haley to join in the interview. But it was her life we were going to discuss, so it didn’t seem fair to try to bar her attendance, no matter how uncomfortable the meeting.
One of the men got to his feet and gestured toward two vacant chairs, which I thought was rather rich, seeing it was my home. But then I realized it was just his way of trying to move the awkward encounter forward.
“Thank you for saving us,” he said, once we were seated. “We would have never made it to ground. We would be ashes blowing in the breeze right now, if you hadn’t opened that door.”
“You can thank my progeny, if you wish to thank someone,” I informed him. “If it had been up to me, I would have left you to burn. But she insisted that you be let in.”
The man looked down, shamefaced. “Thank you,” he said in a low voice, barely able to glance in Haley’s direction. “I know we didn’t deserve it, but it is greatly appreciated.”
“Well, you can show your appreciation by giving us all the information you have on who sent you to capture my progeny and why,” I said, addressing the room. It was all I could do not to stake all three of them, even thought they were still in a weakened condition. It wouldn’t have been sporting, but it was how I felt.
After several seconds of silence, with all three men just staring at us as if they were rubber dummies, Haley looked directly into the eyes of the man who had offered us a seat and said in a steady voice, “Who offered you money to kidnap me?”
His eyes shifted to me for a moment before he replied, “Elaina Arton. But Dimitri got tapped by Paolo Rocco Velli.” He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. “And James got pulled in by The Westfields.”
“What about the fourth man?” Haley asked, her voice as calm as a still night.
“John?” The man made a facial gesture that probably would have been lifting his eyebrows, if he’d had some. “He might not even be around anymore. I seriously doubt he had time to make it back to the lightproof tent.”
“But who hired him?” I pressed. I didn’t care if the man was just a pile of ashes in the woods; I needed to find out who was offering the money.
“I don’t know.” The man shook his head. “Sergio, maybe. I’m not sure.”
“Narc,” the one named James snarled.
Our new friend whipped his head around to glare at his buddy. “We have no loyalty to anyone. We’re mercenaries; we work for the highest bidder. The only vampire I feel any loyalty toward at the moment is Haley, because she let us into this damn castle when we could have just as easily sizzled in the sun.”
“How did all of you end up working together?” Haley asked.
The man shrugged. “There’s a lot of money at stake.” He widened his eyes. “A lot. So we decided that instead of fighting each other, we should team up.”
“Is this all of you?” I wanted to know. “We’re just four of the undead hired?”
“No,” Haley said very quickly. “I know there’s more. I heard a man and a woman, a couple, discussing the hunt for me while I was hiding in some woods. They’re the reason I knew there was a price on my head.”
“That’s probably Thelma and… whatever the guy’s name is,” said Dimitri. “They’re real amateurs. No trade craft.”
“Who else it out there?” I demanded, half rising out of my chair. Haley’s life was hanging in the balance and this man was talking about trade craft.
“Take it easy,” Haley said, pressing my arm. “They’re telling us.”
“We only know of about ten people, but there could be more,” James said, finally volunteering up some information. “The four of us, Thelma and… I don’t remember the guy’s name either, but they’re part of it, and I know they must be backed by Elaina. Then there’s at least four more hired guns down at Sterngrove, waiting to see if Haley shows up there to protect her mom.”
A noise escape from Haley’s lips like someone had punched her in the stomach. She jumped to her feet, staring wild-eyed at the vampires. “Why would they bother my mom?” she demanded.
The one named James shrugged. “If she managed to have a baby with a vampire, then she could also be quite valuable to the undead community,” he pointed out.
“The only reason there’s no price on her head right now is so she can be used as bait,” the talkative guy said, rather frankly.
Haley was shaking her head back and forth rapidly. “But she…” she stammered. “But she has nothing to do with this. She’s mentally ill. She says crazy stuff all the time. You can’t believe her. She told me my father was killed in Vietnam. I wasn’t even around back then. That war ended like twenty-five years before I was even born.”