He picked up the radio, “Call back, Unit six.”
Only the crackle of static came back to him, so he tried again.
Nothing.
His jaw hardened, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. This didn’t feel right. Had they gone inside the house? He struggled to believe they would disobey direct orders, but perhaps she had invited them in for coffee and they figured they could just as easily keep watch from inside the house.
Gingham pulled up his vehicle behind the patrol car. He opened the door and climbed out. His hand rested on his hip, his fingertips touching his .45 Smith and Wesson. Every sense fired on high alert. Cautiously, he approached the vehicle.
In the small amount of light the streetlamps offered, he made out the dark shapes of the police officers still sitting in their seats. Whatever was going on, they were still in the car.
He reached the driver’s window and peered inside.
Only his professionalism stopped him from reeling back in shock.
Officer Phillips’ head lolled against the back of the seat, his throat torn out. Only a small amount of remaining flesh and his spinal column connected his head to his body.
Officer Drew’s head flopped to one side. Claw marks slashed down his face, shredding his cheeks to ribbons. His eyeball had been caught and ripped from the socket, the remaining hole wide and black with blood. The eyeball was nowhere to be seen.
“Jesus Christ,” Gingham muttered below his breath. He quickly glanced from side to side, checking the street remained empty.
The car’s radio was still intact so he leaned in to pick up the handset. A cold chill brushed against the nape of his neck and he froze. He suddenly became aware of the horrific smell filling the car. His first reaction was to get out—get away from the putrid, cloying stench and into the fresh air—but as his foot stepped back out of the car, a hard, clawed hand reached from behind and grabbed him by the shoulder. With insane strength, something yanked him out of the vehicle and slammed him up against the side of the car. His solar plexus met with the metal roof, bursting the air from his lungs, leaving him gasping and coughing.
A voice spoke in his ear. “You gotta answer me some questions.”
His balls tightened up into his body, and at that moment he was thankful he had no family to think of. No wife to worry about how she would cope alone, no child to worry about growing up without a father.
He didn’t need to ask who held him in their horrific grasp. There was no mistaking the wounds on the cops. He’d seen it all before, lying on slabs in the mortuary.
“What do you want?” Gingham managed, his voice hoarse.
“You saw what I did to your guys. Tell me what I want to know or you’re going to end up the same way.”
“Are you going to tell me what you want or just keep threatening me?” His bravado desperately tried to mask the fear ebbing from his pores.
“The woman—Serenity—has something or someone with her all the time. Tell me what it is and I’ll let you live.”
His mind whirred, terror confusing him. What the hell was he talking about?
This murderer. Slaughterer. Madman.
“She has someone with her,” the man growled. “Someone else is always there.”
The words slipped from Gingham’s mouth before he even thought them. “What? You mean Elizabeth—her daughter?”
Beside his ear came a sharp intake of fetid breath. Unmistakable surprise.
The moment the words left his lips, regret filled him. What had he done? That he might have put that little girl in danger tore him in pieces.
He had no family of his own; had he just condemned someone else’s?
“No, sorry, I’m wrong. I think she was looking after the girl for a friend.” He knew he was grasping at straws, trying to make the man believe something else, but he couldn’t think of anything else he could do.
Jackson laughed in his ear and it sounded like death crying. “Nice try,” he said. “But really, you can’t go back on something as big as that.”
Gingham’s head fell forward, his forehead pressing against the cool of metal of the car roof. His hand still rested on his gun. Let the bastard think he’d won; let him think he’d given up. The minute the son of a bitch made his move, Gingham would shoot him.
He felt Jackson lean in and inhale sharply, taking in the line of his neck. If he didn’t know differently, he would have thought the man found him attractive.
“Get the hell away from me,” Gingham growled.
Jackson laughed again and Gingham cringed. He only wanted to get away from this revolting creature, but if he tried to run he was as good as dead.
Hoping to catch the monster by surprise, Gingham flipped his gun from its holster.
“Fuck you!” he yelled as he spun around, firing the weapon.
But Jackson was fast and darted out of the way. Instead of the bullet making contact with his attacker’s chest, it caught him on the neck.
The thing roared and leapt at the detective, slamming into him. Excruciating pain ratcheted through his body as teeth sank into his throat.
One last thing passed through Gingham’s mind. ‘It’s not human. Whatever it is, it’s not human.’
Jackson didn’t know whether to be elated or furious at his discovery.
The detective’s blood rushed through his veins, lifting him up on a high like a drug. The blood was clean and strong, and Jackson felt as though he’d ingested some of what made the man himself.
He knew someone would notice the two cars containing the mutilated bodies very soon. But he wasn’t worried about getting caught. Nothing could contain him.
The wound in his neck burned. Someone shooting him again was almost laughable. When would they realize they could do nothing to stop him? He was invincible now: immortal, untouchable.
Only one thing stood in his way and his mind turned to the new information the detective had unthinkingly given him.
Serenity had a daughter.
The possibility of the child being his flashed through his mind. He dismissed the idea almost instantly. He would have known. He’d not fucked Serenity for several months before she killed him—several other women took care of that side of things. Any further along in her pregnancy, he would have noticed. Jackson always kept a sharp eye for any extra weight she packed on. He never liked women who let themselves go; too easy a slide to take.
Besides, the useless bitch had never been good for much, including never being able to do what a woman was designed for—to carry their husband’s children. God, knows, they’d tried enough. Jackson would never have admitted to anyone, but that part of his life hurt. Losing all of those babies hurt him in a place he’d not even known existed, and made him resent and hate Serenity even more.
So to whom did the child belong? And why did the girl have such an effect on him? Why hadn’t he been able to see her?
There must be some ‘otherness’ about the child. Some kind of supernatural property he hadn’t banked on.
The thought popped in his head as though someone placed it there.
Surely the child wasn’t the vampire’s baby?
Anger fired within him together with another emotion, one he’d only pretended to acknowledge before.
Jealousy.
How had that dead thing managed to achieve what he had only failed at—impregnating Serenity with a child she managed to keep until term? Of course he could be wrong. Maybe the child was the result of a one-night stand? But Jackson knew in his cold, dead heart the vampire was the father. His certainty came from two reasons; Serenity wasn’t the type for one-night stands, and the child was not one hundred percent human.
Chapter Twenty-three
Wrapped within the embrace of Serenity’s arms, surrounded by her scent, the taste of her on his tongue, Sebastian at first missed the unmistakable aroma of spilled blood in the air. Beneath the aromatic fragrance seeped something else. Something rotten.
They lay curled togethe
r on a bed of soft towels on the bathroom floor, bundled after their lovemaking. Sebastian lifted his face from the warm crook of Serenity’s neck, his body stiff with tension.
“What’s wrong?” Serenity hissed, her own body stance instantly matching his.
Despite their involvement in each other, neither had forgotten the danger threatening them.
“Wait here,” he said, jumping to his feet and throwing his clothes back on. “Something’s happened outside.”
“Oh God, it’s him, isn’t it?”
Sebastian nodded, “Lock these doors after me. Stay in the bedroom with Elizabeth. Don’t come out until I come back.” Serenity opened her mouth to speak, her face a mask of concern, but Sebastian cut her off. “Don’t worry. I will come back.”
Serenity stood on tiptoes and planted a kiss on his lips. “Be careful.”
Sebastian returned the kiss, pressing her hard against him before forcing himself to release her. He gave her a tight smile and whisked from the room.
Using his speed, he raced down the stairs. He burst through the front door but forced himself to stop to lock the door behind him, hoping to give Serenity and Elizabeth that small-added protection. His feet barely made a sound on the gravel as he flew across the driveway and vaulted over the high stonewall.
Sebastian landed on his feet on the sidewalk, silent and alert.
Before him, two cop cars were parked at the curb. One of the vehicle doors stood open, spilling the stench of blood from the vehicle’s innards. The power of the smell hit Sebastian like a tidal wave, almost bringing him to his knees. His jaw morphed and protruded, his fangs elongated, protruding from his upper lip. Sebastian couldn’t see himself but he knew his eyes would be burning yellow in the darkness.
Forcing down his natural instincts, he approached the car emitting the worst of the stench.
The inside of the car was a slaughterhouse. Two cops still sat in their seats, obviously apprehended so fast they’d not even had the chance to pull their weapons or climb from the car. Across their laps, another man, wearing plain clothes but with a holster around his waist, lay with his throat torn out. Blood smeared the man’s face, his eyes wide open, his mouth contorted in a scream of horror. More blood soaked into the fabric of the seats and had spilled in the foot well. If Sebastian had stepped into an abattoir, he’d have seen less blood.
Sebastian guessed the third man had arrived in the second vehicle. He must have been checking on the other two men when Jackson attacked.
Yet, something wasn’t right.
Sebastian stepped back, trying to take in the scene with new eyes. The plain-clothed police officer’s gun was discarded on the curb and the scent of Jackson’s rotten blood lingered beneath that of the cops.
How had this other officer managed to pull his weapon before Jackson killed him?
If Jackson had wanted the man dead immediately, he would have slain him. The plain clothed policeman had been kept alive for a reason—at least long enough to get his weapon pulled and a shot fired.
Who was this man? Sebastian wondered. What had Jackson wanted from him?
Sebastian growled and slammed the palms of his hands against the car roof, the metallic clang ricocheting in the still night.
This would only bring trouble. Three dead policemen outside his front door weren’t going to be a good thing.
Again, the stench of Jackson’s blood, combined with the acrid tang of gun powder, wafted over him. The monster had been hurt again; the officer’s shot must have made contact. His injury had its benefits. Jackson would need to recuperate, buying them some time.
Whatever happened now, he needed to get Serenity and Elizabeth away from the house. The dead officers would quickly be tracked down and the police would pull Serenity in for yet more questions. The fact the monster had managed to murder armed men, yet left Serenity unharmed, would raise their suspicions. They’d think Serenity to be involved, that she was protecting Jackson or had something to do with the men’s deaths.
Not wasting any more time, Sebastian turned from the crime scene. From a crouch, he sprung at the tall wall surrounding his property, alighting briefly on the top before jumping to the ground. He raced back to the room Serenity and Elizabeth were locked in.
“It’s me,” he called through the thick wood. “Open up.”
Movement came from the other side and Serenity’s face appeared in the gap, peering out.
“He’s not here,” he said. “One of the police officers shot him again and he’s run off. But we’ve got three dead cops outside and can’t stay here. The rest of the force will be here any minute.”
She opened the door fully and threw a glance back at their daughter, still asleep on the bed.
“What are we going to do?” she asked. “Where are we going to go?”
He chewed on his lower lip, “I’m not sure yet, but we need to get away from here. Away from Los Angeles.”
“I’m not going to run,” she said. “I can’t keep running. Not from him.”
“That’s a crazy thing to say,” he said. “What about Elizabeth? You’re putting her safety at risk.”
“Seems to me Elizabeth is Jackson’s one weakness.”
Sebastian frowned. “What do you mean?”
“When she came down the stairs and Jackson was all over me, he grabbed his head and started yelling ‘what is it?’ And then he backed right out of here.”
“Then we need to go somewhere where we’re on an equal footing. If I can’t kill him before the sun comes up, both of you will be in danger again. I can’t spend another whole day asleep when you could both be murdered,” said Sebastian, after he stored the nugget of information.
“What can we do?”
His thoughts went back to the caves and tunnels where he’d lived in Turkey—to the absolute darkness and impenetrable sunshine. If he could get Jackson to Goreme, Jackson wouldn’t stand a chance. The only thing the monster held over him was his ability to walk in the light. In that domain, Jackson would have nothing.
In reality, he couldn’t just put them all on a plane and head to Turkey. His mind whirred. Surely there must be somewhere close he could take them? Somewhere he could hide Serenity and Elizabeth and be able to take on Jackson on a level footing?
An idea, a possibility came to mind. The Angeles Forest used to be mined for gold, though the mines were long since abandoned. The dangerous ones had been sealed up by the Forestry department, but the ones considered safe were often roamed by hikers. They would be safe enough for Serenity and Elizabeth to hide in, but deep enough to prevent the appearance of the sun affecting him, forcing him to withdraw and leave them vulnerable.
Come the day, the place would attract hikers, but Sebastian hoped this thing wouldn’t take that long. Jackson was strong, fast and increasingly smart, but Sebastian had two hundred years on him and, with the sun taken out of the equation, he was sure it wouldn’t take long to outsmart and outfight the hideous Jackson.
But the plan meant taking them both to somewhere potentially dangerous for them, and not just because of Jackson’s proximity. He didn’t know if they would be forced to go deeper than where the normal tourists roamed.
He wished he could get Jackson down to the mines without taking Serenity and Elizabeth with him. But Jackson wanted Serenity.
If Serenity wasn’t with him, Jackson wouldn’t be there either.
This felt like he was using her as bait.
Maybe he could convince Serenity to leave Elizabeth somewhere—with her friends? But if Elizabeth was the thing protecting Serenity—the thing that had stopped Jackson from slaughtering her—he didn’t want to risk them being separated.
“I need to take you both where the sunlight isn’t going to affect me. When the sun rises, you need to be somewhere safe, somewhere I can protect you. We need to even the tables.”
She was naturally cautious. “Where?”
“In the abandoned mines in the Angeles Forest.”
Her face bl
anched.
“A few of them are opened to hikers now. They’re safe.”
She looked up at him, her dark eyes large and fathomless.
“I trust you,” she said. “Whatever you think we need to do to stop Jackson once and for all, I am behind you.”
Her trust hurt him in some deep, inexplicable way. Her life, and that of their daughter, was in his hands.
“Serenity…” he started to say, suddenly unsure of himself, but a shake of her head stopped him.
“I can’t explain how having you back in my life has made me feel,” she said. “It’s as though something has been missing this whole time. Now you’re here, I’m better. I’m calmer; I’m stronger. My heart isn’t searching anymore.”
He bent his head, her words resonating with his own emotions.
“You are strong,” he said, quietly. “Look at everything you’ve done, everything you’ve coped with your whole life. You’re stronger than I’ll ever be.”
Tears filled her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.
“So what now?” she asked. “When do we leave?”
“Now,” he said. “It needs to be tonight. I can’t risk leaving you both alone for another day.”
These weren’t romantic words. He was being practical. The thought of spending another whole day expecting Jackson to show up while he slept on, helpless, was terrifying.
“So you need Jackson to come for us once we’re in the tunnels?” she said. “You need us as bait to draw him to you?” Sebastian nodded, unable to vocalize the brutality of his plan. “How will he know where to find us?”
“He needs to follow our trail.”
“Jeez, when I said about us being used as bait, I didn’t think I’d end up feeling like a piece of dragged meat.”
He cast his eyes down, “I don’t know any other way.”
“So you’re going to have to wave me under his nose and then run?”
“I’m a fast runner.”
“Yeah, I know, but carrying both me and Elizabeth? Are you sure you’re still going to be faster than Jackson?”
The Serenity Series: Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 41