Whisper to Me (Borne Vampires Book 1)

by Petzler, W. M.

  “Do you know what he looks like?”

  “No, I just see red eyes.” She straightened, clutching the medallion with both her hands, a glazed expression in her eyes. “A woman with black hair gave me the necklace. Green eyes. She put it around my neck and told me to never take it off.”

  “Green eyes?”

  Blinking, she focused on him. “Gypsy. She was a gypsy. God, how am I remembering this now, when before it was just … gone? I wonder if it’s because the runes are fading. You seem to know a lot about gypsies. Do you know her?”

  “The only Gypsies I’ve encountered had dark eyes. Green is rare, very rare. Wait a minute. Did you say the runes are fading?”

  “Yes. See.” She showed him it.

  “When did you notice the changes?”

  “Around the same time I saw the bite marks on my neck.”

  Why were the runes changing?

  “You can see her in here, can’t you?” She tapped her temple.

  “No, I can’t,” he said flatly, praying she let it go.

  “You were earlier in my head. Why not now?”

  “Whoever gave you the necklace did it to hide you from evil. To protect you.”

  “She was in the house. Oh, God, I think she killed my parents. She was the evil.”

  “Did you see her kill them? Was there blood on her?”

  “No,” she said slowly. “No blood on her. I remember fire. Smoke. She carried me downstairs. I saw my parents’ bodies in the living room, their heads were missing. Oh, God! Someone murdered my parents!”

  “Wait, you didn’t know your parents had been murdered?”

  Huddled closer to the door, she said quietly, “My adopted family told me it was an accident. I-I could never remember that night. Until now.”

  “Mariah, are you certain you saw their heads had been removed?”

  “Yes. I am. Why would someone do that?”

  “Vampire hunters stake and behead their victims.”

  “Vampire hunter? You think she was a hunter?”

  “Were your parents working as caretakers for a house, mansion?”

  “Damn, I still can’t remember anything about my life before the fire, only feelings I was happy and that I was loved. Otherwise, it’s a void.” She looked frightened. “My father warned me to watch for them.”

  “Them?”

  “The Damned.”

  Like a douse of cold water, he forced himself to ask, “Did he say anything else?”

  “I was to fear them.”

  Could her parents have been guardians for a Borne? “What time of day was it when you found your parents?”

  “I think it was night. No, it was early morning. I remember hearing birds chirping.”

  “I believe your parents knew about vampires and it cost them their lives.”

  Excited, she shifted to face him. “Rathe, I need you to look into my mind. I need you to see the Gypsy woman. Maybe you know her. I have to find her and ask her what happened to my parents, and why she saved me.”

  “To protect you, I cannot link with you.”

  “Bullshit! You’re just protecting yourself. I was left an orphan when someone killed my parents, and the woman who carried me out of the burning house is the only clue I have to finding the killer!”

  “Forgive me, but you do not fully understand the consequences when you let a vampire inside your head. If I enter your mind, it will leave you open to others, like the man in your nightmares.”

  Disappointed, she sat back in her seat, staring out the windshield. He wanted to help her, but he’d risked too much already when he took her with him, protecting her from Murphy and his hunters. Between giving her his blood and having her with him, he’d surely be brought up before the Elders, and he couldn’t become involved further with her, not if he wanted to lose his head! Still, he worried about what she’d told him.

  Who was being Mariah hidden from?

  Chapter Three

  “Sheriff, I feel I am responsible for Miss Jordan's death. It was my prisoner who escaped.”

  The way Murphy offered his shitty apology pissed Orland off to a whole new level of anger. “No, shit, Sherlock! Cuz of your stupidity in attempting to bring in a dangerous prisoner by yerself, an innocent woman is dead. Because of you!” Orland opened his mouth to really give the son-of-a-bitch a piece of his mind when the coroner waved at him. “What, Ed?”

  “Orland, can you give us a hand?”

  “Sure.” When he reached the van they used to transport bodies in, he frowned when Ed turned his back to Murphy. “Ed?”

  Lowering his voice, Ed told him, “We can't find the convict Murphy said was here. Nothing of Miss Jordan or her dogs either. Since Murphy was first on the scene, I just assumed what he said was true, but we can’t find any evidence to support his statement.”

  “Didn't you say the fire was super-hot? Maybe it cremated the bodies?” Orland noticed Murphy watching the forensic team as they searched the burned out shell of what was once a cabin. There was something not quite right about the agent, besides the weird smell. Every time Murphy’s cold, lifeless eyes looked his way, Orland got the skin crawling, heebie-jeebies. Just something that hovered on the edge of unnatural and it made him nervous as a cat in a room filled with rocking chairs.

  “Maybe. The fire chief did find out what destroyed the cabin.” He lowered his voice, “Orland, it was a rocket launcher! What escape convict would be running around the woods carrying a damn rocket launcher?”

  Rubbing a hand across his mouth, he wondered the same. “Does Murphy know about it?”

  “Just you, me, and the chief knows.”

  “Keep it that way. You and the boys take a break while I send Agent Murphy on his merry way.” Returning to Murphy, he rested his hand on the handle of his gun. “Well, Agent Murphy, evidence indicates Jordan and your prisoner are dead. Ed figures the fire got so hot it reduced bone to ash. Once the coroner and the fire marshal have finished writing their reports, I’ll fax them to the Bureau in Tucson.”

  Satisfaction twisted Murphy's thin features, his pale skin bleached in the floodlights erected around the crime scene. “I’d appreciate it, Sheriff, if you’d fax the report to this number.” He dug out a business card and handed it to him.

  Taking it, he tried to keep his tone normal. “Sure. Will do.”

  “Thanks for your cooperation, Sheriff.” Murphy extended his hand out to him. Orland hesitated before accepting.

  Watching the FBI agent slid into a blue sedan, Orland spat on the ground and growled, “Cooperation my ass.”

  Hoping Mariah Jordan was somewhere safe and not a pile of ash, he went back to speak with Ed. Flap of wings made Orland look up and he saw the huge black crow sitting on the gnarly limb of a tree. Its beady eyes glowed red briefly. Cocking its head to the side, the bird straightened and cawed at him once before it extended its blue-black wings, taking flight.

  Making the sign of the Cross, Orland said quietly, “Something wicked that away goes and it’s after you, Murphy. It’s coming for you.”

  ✝✝✝

  She wasn’t doing well at all!

  Around ten, they arrived in Phoenix, actually the outskirts. During the two hour drive, she pretended to sleep. Since Rathe had refused to help her learn who the woman was who had rescued her, there really wasn’t anything to talk about. Plus, she didn’t want to actually sleep, just in case she had the dream again.

  “Hey, are you hungry?”

  Although the thought of eating food made her queasy, she nodded. “Yeah, I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

  “I could use a bite to eat myself.”

  “How—” Rathe grinned at her. “Never mind.” She pointed at the caboose-styled diner to their left. “There’s a diner we can stop at.”

  He parked around the side, away from the other cars. She petted her dogs before she got out of the SUV. Rolling up the long sleeves of the coat she wore, she adjusted it, the hem reaching past her knees. When she glanced
back at him, she found him gone, she was relieved, not wanting to know where he would find his food source.

  Sitting at a booth down at the far end, she forewent the menu, ordering a cheeseburger and soda. When it arrived, the smell of cooked meat made her sick to her stomach. Forcing herself to take a small bite, her throat closed and she couldn’t swallow the hamburger. Spitting it into a napkin, she shoved the hamburger as far away as she could. Unable to eat and starving, she was resigned to sip her soda, feeling absolutely miserable.

  The waitress must have seen her dilemma and rushed to her table. “Miss, is there something wrong with your cheeseburger?”

  “Oh, no, it's fine. I’m just not feeling well. Long trip,” she lamely lied, her stomach growling in protest.

  Smiling in understanding, the waitress offered, “I can put together a fruit plate, if you’d like?”

  Even the thought of eating fruit made her nauseous. “I’ll just stick to my soda.”

  The waitress picked up the plate. “Do you want me to wrap it for later?”

  “Yes, please. Oh, I need to order another burger to go, for my … my friend,” she explained, not wanting to insult the waitress or the concerned cook by telling them she intended to feed the burgers to her dogs.

  “Will do, sweetie.”

  The sharp chime of the doorbell made her glance up. Rathe entered the diner.

  A low, appreciative whistle escaped the waitress. “Wow! That is one sexy beast of a man.”

  She had to agree. Dangerous, too. A predator wrapped in a hard, muscular, and absolutely breathtaking body. Rathe’s gaze never wavered from hers as he walked toward her. Either he was ignoring the diner’s patrons and their open stares as he strode past them or was just unaware, she couldn’t tell. When he slid into the seat opposite of her, she felt his knee graze hers. Desire shot through her at the simple contact, her breathing quickened with the rush of excitement. He exuded a sexual aura unlike anything she had ever known and it scared her, while it thrilled her.

  Knock it off, Mariah. He’ll take off as soon as he can dump you somewhere convenient. Still, a little part of her wondered if he was attracted to her, too.

  Rathe asked, “Have you finished eating?” At her nod, he reached into his back pocket and withdrew a leather wallet. Taking out a twenty, he tossed it on the table.

  Sliding out of the bench seat, she took the Styrofoam box the waitress handed her and started for the door, nearly jumping when he placed his hand on her lower back.

  “Where are we going now?”

  “Let’s find you a hotel and check in. Tomorrow, you can make arrangements to head home.”

  She didn’t reply. Really, what was there to say? Thanks for an exciting evening. Great time I’ve had tonight when my cabin and car was blow up by vampire hunters. Hey, let’s do this again sometime.

  ✝✝✝

  At the first motel, Rathe pulled into the graveled parking lot and turned off the engine. “Be right back.”

  “Sure.”

  Entering the lobby, he rang the silver bell for service. Several minutes passed when an old woman, dressed in a fluffy yellow robe, pink rollers in her gray hair, and a sour expression on her withered features, finally shuffled behind the worn counter.

  “Yes?” she asked grumpily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She focused on him and her eyes went wide, staring at him with her mouth open.

  “I seek a room for me and my wife. We wish not to be disturbed for the entire day.” Bestowing upon her a charming smile, he ‘encouraged’ the woman to joyfully comply with his wishes.

  She giggled and withdrew a register sheet. “Please fill this out, sir. Oh, and I need a credit card for a deposit.”

  “There is no need for me to fill this out. I have cash.” He pulled his wallet out of his rear pocket and withdrew a hundred dollar bill, holding it out to her. The old woman smothered another girlish giggle as she took the money from his hand. “Please, keep the change.”

  “Thank you!” Smiling, she handed him a room key. “If there is anything you require, just ring me on the telephone.”

  “Thank you, Madame, for your kind offer. We shall be fine.” As he turned to leave, he saw the old woman fanned her flaming cheeks.

  She murmured, “What a sexy devil!”

  He winked at her.

  Cheeks red, she touched her head. “Damn, forgot my curlers are in. Oh, well, you’re married. What a lucky girl.” She sighed wistfully.

  Sobering at her words, he sighed. “Cursed is closer to the truth.”

  Back at the SUV, he opened the car door for her. “Here’s your key.” He handed it to her and retreated when she climbed out, holding the Styrofoam box in her hand.

  “Thanks.” Touching her hair, she winced. “I must look a dreadful mess.”

  Staring at her hair, wild and disarrayed, his gaze lowered to caress her soft lips, remembering how they felt beneath his. “Damn tempting, I’d say.” God, he wanted to kiss her! Touch her — make love to her. Retrieving his wallet, he pulled out several bills and handed them to her. “Here, so you can purchase food later on. Do not open the door for anyone. Not even the old woman who runs the place. Keep guard for hunters and ghouls while you are in Arizona. You’ll be safe when you are out of here.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Mariah, I—”

  She cut him off. “I’m glad I was able to help you, but it’s best for you to return to your family. They need you.”

  Rubbing his knuckles along her smooth cheek, he smiled at her. “I’ll forever be grateful to you, Mariah Jordan. If you should need me, call out to me. I’ll not ever block you again.”

  “Thank you. It means a lot to me to know you are protecting me.”

  “Take care. I hope you find the answers you’re looking for.” He made to walk away, but couldn’t, not without doing one thing before he departed.

  Sliding his fingers around the nape of her neck, he drew her to him. Her mouth opened under his as he kissed her, devouring her as a man starving, and he never wanted to let her go. Nevertheless, he had to.

  He released her and went to his car, got in. Shifting the gear into reverse, he saw Mariah and her dogs watching him leave. She looked so sad — vulnerable, and he felt like a total asshole leaving her.

  If he did stay, she would be in danger … not from the others, but from him!

  ✝✝✝

  Watching him drive away, she touched her lips, still tingling from his kiss. She glanced down at her dogs, who were sitting on their haunches, heads tilted as they watched her.

  “I know, I know! I'm supposed to be sensible. No men allowed. What in the hell am I supposed to do about a vampire then?”

  A smile twitched her lips as she watched the SUV disappear down the road. For the first time in her life, she had been part of a real adventure and not just writing about one. As strange as it sounded, the danger made her feel alive and free of the safety net she’d erected around her, to protect her and the ones she loved. All thanks to a vampire who had stumbled into her life.

  Sighing, she went to the vending machine. Able to ingest the cola without problems, she decided to try a candy bar. Eating it, she instantly felt better. Potato chips went down as well without making her sick. Stocking up, she carried her treats to her room and dumped them on the bed. She fed the cheeseburgers to her dogs, then fetched the ice bucket and filled it with water for them to drink. On the bed, she attacked the goodies, amazed she could digest sugary and salty junk food without any difficulties. Deciding not to question her good luck, she was just happy to be full at last.

  Yawning, she went into the bathroom, to check out the bite mark on her neck, startled to see there was a yellowish-green bruise left. No fang marks.

  How did she heal so fast?

  Too tired to dwell on the miracle, she went back to the bed and stripped before crawling under the blankets. Should she call Sheriff Willard and let him know she was alive?

  No, she had to give Rathe a chance
to get to safety before she alerted the authorities of her whereabouts. Afterwards, she could explain what happened at the cabin and who was responsible for attempting to murder her.

  God, she hoped Murphy was still around Mormon Lake, so he could be arrested. Bastard deserved to be beaten for torching her brand new car!

  ✝✝✝

  Squatted down on his haunches, his immaculate, expensive white suit stained with blood, he viewed his victim with distain. Placing a crooked finger under Murphy's bloodied chin, he searched his ghoul’s unrecognizable face, torn and swollen from the beating he gave him. Disgusted as the sniveling ghoul begged for his life, Murphy had taken much pleasure in causing pain and suffering to others, his own weakness apparent when he was unable to withstand his own torture.

  “Murphy, I want you to explain to me once again why the Slayer was alone and not protecting his family.”

  “Master?”

  “I thought I made my orders quite clear. You were to kill them, remember?”

  “We ... we tried, Master. Rathe came at us shooting. That’s when we realized the others had disappeared.”

  “He always did love to play the hero.”

  Murphy started crying. “Master, the woman with Romulas, she-she had strange eyes.”

  “Strange how?”

  “Like … like the painting you have, Master.”

  “What did you say?”

  “She had … eyes.” Murphy tried to point at the two oil paintings hung on the wall.

  Could it be her? “What color was her hair?”

  “Dark red.” Murphy raised his hand and tapped a finger to his temple. “See, Master.”

  Peering inside Murphy’s mind, he couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be her, she was dead. Yet, the fullness of her lips, high cheekbones, shape of her eyes and nose … it was her. Pained by the memories always there in his head, always tormenting him, hope returned in the midst of it all.

  She was alive!

  Snatching Murphy by the throat, he rose, forcing the ghoul onto his feet. “What is her name?”