He forced himself to sit up. His head objected, sending spikes of pain through his temples that radiated down his neck. He grunted a little and swung his legs over the bed. No one had bothered taking off his outfit, except for his shoes. His feet felt a bit numb. The single bed was too short for him. He was in the kid’s room of the safe house, he realized. It was the one room they kept clear for any injuries, the hospital room as Joan called it. He wished they’d put in a longer bed or laid him on the floor.
He rotated his feet in circles, trying to get the circulation back into them.
“I couldn’t just let you all go in there without helping,” he said. “I’m supposed to be fighting too.”
She spun to face him. “Fighting, yes. Getting sucked down in their deaths, no.”
“I didn’t get sucked down.”
“I saw you,” she said. “You were practically convulsing. If I hadn’t realized what you were doing and come back, the others would have killed all of them and taken you down with them.”
“That wouldn’t happen.”
“You don’t know that. Nobody knows that. Nobody understands what the hell you do, they just want you to keep doing it no matter what it costs.”
She stopped. He held out a hand to her. She crossed the room to take it and he drew her down to the bed beside him. As she sat, he put his arm around her shoulder and she leaned her head on him.
“You push too hard on this, Sebastian,” she said.
“I just want it over with,” he said. “The sooner the better. Then I can go home. Besides, this was the last one, right? Finish with your friend Hanson and then we can leave.”
He felt her stiffen under his arm. Her head came off his shoulder but remained bowed.
He didn’t like the sign of this.
“Jessica?”
“They want us to go to Rome,” she said. “There’s several nests operating out of there and they need help subduing them.”
He was almost afraid to ask. “What did you tell them?”
She glanced at him. “What do you think I told them? I said you’ve done enough, you need to rest and you need to go home. I said we’d come back in a month and help out in Rome.” Her head dipped again. “They said that wasn’t good enough. They need you to go in three days.”
He tightened his grip on her shoulder. He knew she’d tried her best but Nigel and the others had only one narrow focus. Finish off the vampires, and while Sebastian concurred with their efforts, he didn’t agree with their attitude of doing it no matter the cost. Eight months he’d been focusing and Influencing vampires. He could feel himself on the edge and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like where it could lead him, he didn’t like the exhaustion he felt almost all the time or the way he was getting used to constantly being in pain.
But he didn’t much like the vampires either.
Dammit.
“What about five days?” he said. “We go to Rome for a week and that’s it. Then we’re done.”
“It could take longer than a week,” she said.
“Tell them I’ll give them a week only, no more.”
She looked back up at him. “Are you sure?”
“If they give me the extra two days rest, I’m sure.”
She gave him a half smile. He knew she was as conflicted about it as he was; she wanted to stop the vampires too but she could see the cost to him up close.
“You get some rest,” she said and kissed him.
He tightened his arm on her shoulder as he let the kiss deepen. Finally she broke away. Her tongue flicked out to lick his lips.
“You’re supposed to rest,” she said. Her fingers trailed along his cheek as she slipped out from between his arms. He watched her cross to the door. She opened it, looked back him and smiled before she slipped through, closing the door behind her.
He could imagine a couple of things he’d like to do with two days extra rest.
He smiled to himself as he tested his feet on the floor. There, the numbness was gone. He could stand without falling over, always a good thing. Across the room on the desk, he saw a laptop and a bottle of water. He crossed to get some water; his mouth felt a little gummy. He twisted off the cap and drank some down. Room temperature, not his favorite. He preferred water cold from the fridge but he’d take what he could get. When he set the bottle down, he bumped the laptop. The screen sprang to life.
Not turned off, just sleeping.
He knew a lot of the In-Between used special forums to share information. He didn’t bother with that. Instead he searched for newspapers from home. It made him feel a little closer to it although it also made him homesick. He wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea, torturing himself this way, but he needed something, a reminder that there was a normal world out there.
He found several online papers and skimmed through, revelling in high school and college sports scores, weather reports, traffic accidents, supermarket openings and political punditry. He usually avoided the crime reports but found himself scrolling through a list. One item caught his eye: Motel fire kills ten guests and owners. Strange. Not even any indication of survivors. Hadn’t anyone made it out alive? He clicked on it and read the whole article.
Small motel off the highway. Fire department suspected arsons. No survivors. He felt an itch in his brain, the kind that always started when something wasn’t right. Who would burn down an old motel with everyone inside? It wasn’t for the insurance; the owners had perished as well so they wouldn’t be able to collect. Besides, deaths like this would always be investigated more closely than an empty building.
Unless whoever did it didn’t care about that.
The itch crept down his neck, hitching his shoulders up toward his ears. He didn’t like the look of this. Not at all.
He checked the other sites for more details. They mostly regurgitated the same story except for one detail; a man had been found in the last room on the floor between the bed and the wall. His location had prevented the body from being burned too badly. Initial reports discussed trauma to his neck and a lack of blood.
His fingers froze on the keyboard. He stared unblinking at the screen until his eyes teared from lack of lubricant. As the screensaver switched on, he pushed himself away from the laptop.
Trauma to the neck and lack of blood.
It had to be a vampire, one who went on a rampage through the motel and tried to use the fire to cover his tracks.
Or her tracks.
It would have to be a fairly recent turn, he thought. The thought behind covering its tracks indicated less time under the influence of a clan head. Such a vampire would be quite independent and harder to catch.
It didn’t mean anything, he thought. It could be any young vampire, turned less than ten years ago. They’d found any turned within that time span still maintained most of their independence and intellect. The older vampires were too dependent on the clan head and reverted to an almost primitive animalness. But there were lots of vampires under ten years. It didn’t mean anything.
It didn’t mean it was her.
But he knew it was.
Alexa.
His heart twinged. An old pain, at least it felt old, with an ache that seemed to settle into his soul. Thinking of her tugged him back into his old life, only a few short years ago, when he was a different person. A geeky, awkward college student instead of what he was now. And what exactly was that? A geeky, awkward In-Between, suspended between vampire and human by an aborted attempt by the vampire Bianca to turn him. If she’d been successful in it, in starting her own little clan, would he now be wandering lost like the others? If Constantine had been successful in tracking down the book by the first vampire, would Sebastian have been enslaved along with the others? Instead, he’d felt the call of the book, a link to Grellock, the first vampire, and slowly realized he could use the book to kill Constantine, just as Constantine hoped to use it. Spilling the vampire’s blood on the book destroyed the clan heads, and yet even after, he’d heard
it calling in his mind before Jessica torched it, breaking the link between him and the book.
Good thing she’d done it. He might have started a whole new mess. Although he’d been left with this whole new ability.
And after that, Alexa made her vow: I’ll make sure you pay dearly.
Had the massacre at the motel been the first down payment? Or maybe it was just a warm up to the main course. He checked the location again. West Pennsylvania, almost into Ohio. She was making her way west. Making her way to Michigan.
Making her way to his family.
Forget Rome. They would have to deal with it without him. He’d already spent way too much time here, trying to help them clean up the mess when he should have been taking care of his family. He suspected she’d try to go after them and yet he let it slide because the In-Between needed him.
But enough was enough.
Time to go home.
He ran a quick search for flights heading back to the States, then he wiped the browser history and all the temporary files before turning the laptop off. He grabbed his jean jacket, which hung on the end of the bed, and shrugged it on. Heading to the door, he started thinking about money. He was going to need some to buy a plane ticket. He patted his pocket. He had maybe five pounds on him and his passport. He might not be able to buy a ticket but he could board the plane at least.
Time to get some money.
He opened the door and peered out into the hallway. Silence filled the upstairs of the safe house. Voices floated up from downstairs. He tried to but couldn’t distinguish Jessica’s voice from the general murmuring. Either she was down there and not talking or she wasn’t. If not, he had to find her. He couldn’t leave without at least telling her.
With careful steps he made it to the stairs without any creaking. He grabbed the handrail and headed down. He placed his feet gently onto each step before moving to the next. The voices grew louder in volume as he reached the bottom. Now he could distinguish them: Nigel, Hanson, a woman whose name he never remembered, and Joan.
Still no Jessica.
Damn, where was she? He didn’t want to try to send out a psychic feeler for her, not with so many In-Between around. At least one of them would catch it; he knew Joan would for sure. She probably sensed him now anyway. She was the most sensitive In-Between he’d ever met.
“...need to hit hard and fast.” Nigel’s voice drifted out from the back toward the kitchen.
“My people are still trying to get accurate numbers,” the unknown woman said.
“We send in a large enough group, they can handle it,” Nigel said.
Typical of Nigel, Sebastian thought. Impatient and willing to risk people’s lives. The only good thing was that at least he went in as well.
He turned away from the kitchen and took the narrow cream colored hallway toward the front of the house. At the doorway to the living room, he paused, peering around the corner. Empty. Just an overstuffed floral couch in pinks and yellows with a matching armchair. He shuddered. Now that was horrifying.
He made it all the way to front door before he heard the creak of the floorboard behind him.
“Going somewhere?” Joan’s voice spoke quietly behind him.
He turned. She stood near the door to the living room, a tall, thin figure in grey pants and a plain green shirt who looked like she would be quite at home serving tea on that couch. Her grey hair had grown to brush the tops of her shoulders but he felt that same intensity in her hazel eyes.
“I was looking for Jessica,” he said.
“She’s running an errand,” Joan said. “She should be back soon. Why don’t you come into the kitchen? I’ll make you some tea.”
Dammit, he thought. He couldn’t refuse her without some good excuse but he didn’t want to go into the kitchen around the others. Even when Jessica returned he wouldn’t be able to talk to her freely with them around.
Joan gave him a slight smile as if she knew the turmoil she’d caused. She stepped aside, gesturing back to the kitchen.
Dammit.
As he passed her, she squeezed his shoulder. Then she followed close behind.
He entered the kitchen. Hanson stood leaning against the counter, holding a teacup that looked dwarfed in his large hand. Nigel sat at the table. As usual, he stiffened at Sebastian’s appearance. Even after he helped destroy the book, Nigel still didn’t trust him. Opposite Hanson, a petite blond woman stood with arms crossed. She gave him a brief smile when he entered. He’d seen her before but he still couldn’t remember her name. They all wore the same black pants and top from their raid the night before.
“How are you feeling, Sebastian?” Hanson said.
“Fine,” Sebastian said. “I’m fine now. Just need a rest, is all.”
“And some tea.” Joan slipped past him, heading for the cupboard. She pulled out a cup and saucer and brought them back to the table. “Sit, sit.”
He ended up across from Nigel, who didn’t look any happier about it than he felt. Joan poured tea into the cup and then set a white porcelain bowl of sugar in front of him.
“I think we have honey if you prefer,” she said.
“No, this is fine, thanks,” he said. He didn’t want to feel any more obligated than he already felt. As she returned the teapot to the cozy on the counter he dropped in two teaspoons of sugar into his tea and stirred. At least that gave him something to do.
Across from him, Nigel stared into his own teacup, as if looking for inspiration. Silence stretched through the room as Sebastian lifted his cup to his lips. Obviously his presence had interrupted whatever discussion they were having. Why had Joan brought him back here? Had she wanted to stop the conversation? Mission accomplished, if that was the case.
“Why don’t we ask Sebastian his opinion?” Joan piped up.
Nigel scowled openly into his teacup. Leaning against the counter, Hanson brought his cup to his mouth and sipped, efficiently avoiding the suggestion. But the woman looked interested.
“I think that’s a good idea,” she said. “I’d like more opinions.”
“You mean you want an opinion that agrees with yours,” Nigel said.
The woman frowned at him. “I think we need to think outside the box is all. Rushing in isn’t the only answer.”
“Oh and letting it fester is?”
“Let’s hear what Sebastian has to say.” Joan’s voice cut through the comments that sounded like a rehash of an argument that had started before he walked in. Sebastian tried to give Joan a look that said ‘don’t put me in the middle,’ but she wasn’t looking at him. She gazed over at Hanson.
“What do you think, Joe?”
Hanson shrugged. “Don’t matter to me.”
A grin started to form on Nigel’s face.
“Could use with more thoughts though.”
The grin froze.
“Might as well tell ‘em,” Hanson finished.
Nigel’s scowl reappeared.
“We got some intelligence that suggests a vampire group a short distance from here, about ten miles away, headquartering in an abandoned farmhouse,” Joan said. “The thing is it is behaving almost like a clan. We think one of the younger vampires has taken control and inserted himself into a leader position. We didn’t think that was possible without the influence of the book. It’s bad news if the younger vampires retain enough intelligence to reform into clans.”
“We could see a rash of attacks,” the other woman said. Shelly, he remembered her name now.
“They could start trolling for new members to fill their ranks.”
“Which is why we need to stop them now,” Nigel said.
“We need more intelligence about this,” Shelly said. “We need to know if they’re in contact with any other potential clan or if this is a one-off. Blundering in there in full force isn’t going to achieve anything and we could lose the opportunity to find out what’s going on.”
Shelly nodded toward Sebastian. “What do you think?”
&nb
sp; Nigel glared at him from above his teacup. Both Joan and Shelly held looks of expectation as if they were prepared for him to come down on their side. Hanson looked suitably neutral.
Sebastian fiddled with his teacup, playing for time. It was floral, like the couch, similar pink flowers blossoming over the sides. Why couldn’t he have had just a plain white cup?
So which course of action did he approve of? Attack now or wait to gather more intelligence? Both stances had legitimate reasons and potential drawbacks. It all depended on the ultimate goal. Study the vampires or kill them?
He knew which he preferred.
“I think we should attack them outright,” he said.
Shelly’s eyes widened in surprise. Nigel’s scowl curved into a grin.
“There’s another vote for my plan,” he said.
“How can you say that?” Shelly said.
“You make an interesting point,” Sebastian said. “If I wanted to study them, I’d agree with you. But I don’t. I just want them gone. All of them. I want to stop them from turning anyone else into vampires, or even into us. I want to stop them from murdering innocent bystanders just to send a message or for fun. I don’t want there to be any chance of another person being cursed and destroyed this way. They have to die.”
“But if we learn more about them, we’ll have a better chance at stopping them for good.”
“Why not stop them now?” he said.
Nigel sat back nodding in agreement. Even Hanson, leaning against the counter, gave a slight nod. Shelly frowned.
Nigel drained his teacup and set it on the table. He pushed his chair back and stood up.
“That’s it then. It’s settled. We head over there this afternoon to take care of the nest.” He pointed a finger at Sebastian. “And you’re coming with us.”
CHAPTER 2
Sebastian straightened in his chair. “What?”
Nigel stepped around the table, heading for the front of the house. He patted Hanson’s arm as he passed. “We’ll head out in an hour, two at the most. Pass the word.”
Retribution of Soul: Book 3 of the In-Between Page 3