He couldn’t see any sign of the man.
He stopped, sucking in air, resting his hands on his knees. In front of him, a row of trees, with thick veined leaves dipping low, spread out in both directions. He smelled the heady scent of them, the fresh new buds, the wet, dank scent of decaying vegetation on the ground.
It reminded him of another set of trees, just a few years ago, and a night that changed his life forever.
If only he’d never left that party...
“So, are we just going to admire the view?” Charlie stood beside him, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. In the darkening light, he looked more solid again and he’d lost the frigidaire effect.
“No,” Sebastian said. “We’re going in.”
He stepped forward among the trees.
“I died surrounded by trees, didn’t I?” Charlie said behind him. Sebastian glanced back. Charlie was following but didn’t make any noise. His feet didn’t disturb any vegetation on the ground. As he watched, one of the Charlie’s feet passed through a large outcropping of rock.
“Yeah, there were trees,” Sebastian said.
“Thought so,” Charlie said. “I remember that.”
“Why are you here, Charlie?” Sebastian said. “Do you know?”
“Getting tired of me already, huh,” Charlie said. “Better be nice to me. You’re burning your bridges faster than you can build ‘em. Think Jessica’ll ever talk to you again?”
“Shut up.”
“Ooooh touchy. You really suck at the whole relationship with women thing. I thought you were just a pussy with Alexa but it turns out you can’t sustain it with any woman.”
Sebastian spun around. “Oh yeah? And you were such the expert. Tell me, great expert, what am I doing wrong?”
“You don’t listen,” Charlie said. “You don’t talk to them. Women like to talk and they like to be listened to. That’s the secret to my success. I listened. Give a nod in the right place, a sympathetic noise, and they love you. Maybe if you listened to Jessica, told her what you were doing, what was really going on with you, she’d trust you.”
Sebastian turned away. “Shut up.”
“Sure,” Charlie said. “Run off. That’s what got you into this mess in the first place. You couldn’t stay and talk to Alexa. You ran.”
The air around Sebastian seemed to vanish. He felt his lungs collapse inward, his shoulders hunch. Hiding his height, always hiding his height, hiding himself. He shuffled forward. Running. Yes, he was always running and it had been the thing that got him into this mess, gotten all of them into this mess: him, Alexa, Charlie, even his own family.
His eyes burned with tears. The rough, black bark of the trunk in front of him blurred. He blinked to try to clear his vision. He’d done his best, was trying to make things right, even the things he knew could never be right again. So many ripples cascaded out from that one stupid night, so many people caught up in whirlpools of destruction, even Stan. How could Sebastian ever fix it for them when he couldn’t even fix it for himself?
“I’m trying,” he said. His voice sounded thready and weak even to his own ears. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Maybe stop trying to do everything yourself,” Charlie said. “Maybe ask for help sometime.”
“Can you help me, Charlie?” Sebastian said. “Or are you just going to keep criticizing?”
“Buddy, I am helping you.”
“This is helping? It’s almost dark. How am I supposed to kill Bianca before nightfall now?”
“Maybe you aren’t supposed to kill her before nightfall,” Charlie said. “Maybe you aren’t supposed to kill her at all.”
Sebastian stared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Charlie shrugged. Through his shoulders, Sebastian caught a shifting of leaves. Darker now.
Almost night.
Enough of this. He had to go.
He inhaled deeply, catching a subtle whiff of sourness lingering in the air. Brent. He’d gone this way. Sebastian headed off.
He didn’t turn to see if Charlie followed.
The uneven ground slowed his progress, tripping him with upraised roots and slippery congealed leaves and grass. He pushed on, even as the shadows darkened around him. He couldn’t see through the branches and thick foliage above his head but he could feel the encroaching night, feel as it hummed in his veins.
Bianca would be waking very soon.
He had to find her before then.
The sour smell intensified, thickening until he could almost taste it. He slowed, pressing against the rough bark of an old tree that bent sideways at an angle. Large, heavy bushes grew on the other side of this tree. Sebastian followed the curve of the trunk, pushing several of the thin branches aside. Sharp thorns pricked at his fingers, scratched at his forearm as he cleared a small space.
He peered out.
A small clearing glowed on the other side of the bushes, golden in the final dying rays of daylight. He spotted Brent crossing to the other side. He disappeared between another set of trees. Sebastian hurried after him, then stopped. Brent stood just on the other side of the tree, facing away. At his feet was a large wooden trunk. Old fashioned, with brown, aged leather straps arching over the curved top. A huge padlock hung open.
Brent reached down and pulled off the padlock. It fell from his loose fingers, bouncing once on the ground before rolling to a stop.
Brent paused, still leaning over the trunk, like he was a windup toy that had reached the end of its track. He needed another good wind before he would move again.
Sebastian knew exactly when that would be. As soon as the sun finished setting.
Less than fifteen minutes now.
“Sebastian, wait.” Charlie’s voice came from behind him.
No, he’d already waited too long. If he waited any longer, she would be awake and he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her. His Influence on vampires would backlash on him when it came to Bianca. She was the one who’d infected him. Any attempt to Influence her would only strengthen her hold on him. Then she’d be able to finish the job.
And he didn’t want that. No, he didn’t.
Although deep inside a tiny part of him feared that maybe, just maybe he did.
NO!
He pushed through the bushes, feeling the branches and thorns grabbing at his shirt and pants, as if trying to hold him back. He wouldn’t let them, wouldn’t let anyone stop him.
He pushed through.
Brent didn’t move. He stood poised over the trunk. God, he did really look like a giant doll.
Bianca had made him that way, stripped away his life, his dreams, everything. Turned him into a doll that she could feed off of and kill at her leisure.
Not anymore.
Sebastian pushed Brent out of the way. The man stumbled. His left leg collapsed underneath him and he fell to the ground. He lay unmoving.
As if he didn’t even realize what had happened.
Sebastian grabbed the edges of the trunk. They bit into his palms as he clenched them but he didn’t care, didn’t give a fuck at all.
He yanked, feeling the weight of the lid drag down. God, it was heavy. The muscles across his back and shoulders strained, his arms grew taunt. It shouldn’t be this heavy.
Bianca was trying to hold the trunk shut, trying to stop him from opening it before sundown. All she had to do was hold on for a few more minutes.
His heart hammered in his chest, sending adrenaline shooting through his system. He couldn’t let her hold on, couldn’t face her again in the full night.
Couldn’t risk saying yes to her, couldn’t risk that deepest fear.
That maybe he really did want to say yes.
His hand tightened. He gave a final wrench.
The lid flew up.
She shrieked from inside the trunk. Legs folded to the side, she curled in the bottom of the trunk. A wave of decay and sourness wafted out. The heady strength of it made him stumble back. Her han
d reached up to the lid.
He kicked out as hard as he could, using every ounce of In-Between strength he had. The lid snapped back, the hinge breaking. It flopped on the ground. Bianca gave another wail. She shook her head from side to side, the dark curtain of her hair obscuring her face. Her hands came up, hooked into claws, shielding her face. In the dying sunlight, her skin was almost translucent, so white, so pale.
Sebastian grabbed her wrists and yanked her arms up. Her upper body came out of the trunk even as she struggled against him. She wore a sleeveless dark red top. Black pants covered her legs. She twisted and turned her body, her arms. He felt the effort in her wrists as they slid in his hands. But she wasn’t at full strength. Not enough to break his grip on her.
Only a few minutes now...
He backed away, dragging her by the arms. Her body rose out of the trunk. Her legs flopped over the side. They kicked out but she didn’t yet have the coordination to stand. Whimpers and moans came from her throat.
The clearing was only a few steps away. Just a few steps and he could throw her into the last golden glow of the sunlight.
He prayed it would be enough to kill her.
Thorny branches and leaves scraped at his back and arms as he dragged her forward. His feet crunched over twigs and dried vegetation. He felt every crevice in the earth, every root that tried to trip him up but it wouldn’t work this time. Not this time.
Her arms twisted in his hands. Her skin felt slick with sweat, or something close to sweat. Did vampires actually sweat? He didn’t know, but something on her skin made her arms slippery. He tightened his grip, felt his fingernails dig into her flesh.
His shoulders ached from dragging her, from fighting her. Even in this uncoordinated state, her strength taxed him. All he had to do was hang on, just another minute, just another few steps...
He felt the crunch of grass beneath his feet. The weak heat of the last of the sun warmed his face. He gave another yank and backpedaled as fast as he could, dragging her the extra few inches into the center of the clearing.
Bianca’s screams rose in volume. She thrashed in his grip. Her legs flailed, her arms jerked. Heat emanated from her skin, almost burning his hands. Her head whipped back and forth, sending her hair flying, obscuring her face but he caught glimpses between the flying hair.
Her skin darkened, appearing to wrinkle and shrivel at the same time. Her lips, usually full and red, seemed almost translucent and thin as they pulled back from her teeth. Her gums looked bloodless. Her fangs stood out even more prominent as she opened her mouth to cry out.
The shrieks lessened, becoming higher pitched as if her vocal cords were shriveling as well. Her movements became jerkier, more spastic, her legs kicking out. The fabric of her clothing slid over her body as if the muscles were shrinking.
The temperature in her arms rose so high he couldn’t hold onto her wrists any more. He dropped them but stood ready to grab her again if she made a dash for the trees and darkness, but she fell back against the grass. Her hands and feet flailed and grabbed as she tried to rise up but she didn’t have the coordination to do it. The skin on her arms darkened. The bones became more prominent. He watched as the fingers on one of her hands snapped back as she hit the ground. A moment later, the forearm of the other arm cracked against the earth, the jagged edge breaking through her now paper-thin flesh. Brackish blood oozed out.
Her smell, always sour, became fetid, a stench that made him gag. It coated the air around him, leaching into his nostrils even as he tried to hold his breath. It mixed with the rot of the decaying vegetation, making him think that this was the final result of vampirism, the very essence of it, a mingling of rot, decay and degradation so sour it seemed to poison the air and ground around it.
Her struggles weakened. The flesh on her face molded to her bones and had the color of burned leather. Smoke curled up from her cheeks, carrying with it the acrid stench of burning flesh. It began to rise from every part of her body, snaking out from under her clothing. The smell of it, of her, grew in strength until the sourness of it burned his eyes. He blinked, tears streamed down his face. After a moment, she gave a few more final spasms, legs and arms twitching, before her body sank down. A final gasp issued from her gaping mouth and she stopped moving.
Shadows from the trees reached across the clearing, finally covering her and Sebastian in the soothing darkness of night but it was too late for Bianca. The death process was too far along. Even a few moments before, she might have been able to recover but not now. He watched as the skin continued to decay at a faster and faster rate. Her body settled into the ground. Gentle clicks sounded as the bones cracked and crumbled. Her clothing deflated. Her skull turned away from him, the hair sprayed out against the ground before it began to shrivel and crumble into the grass.
The heavy scent of decay began to dissipate. The subtle scent of leaves and growing buds began to reassert themselves, reclaiming the air.
Another minute and all that was left of her was the clothing, flat and full of dust.
He’d never watched it happen all the way before, not a daylight death. Relief made him sag into himself. Bianca dead! The one vampire who could have turned him, gone. The realization left him trembling. He took a step back, wiping the tears from his face. The stench of her death still lingering in his nostrils, strong enough that he wondered if he’d ever smell anything else ever again, or would he just continue to smell her death, over and over.
Maybe he’d never be rid of her.
But at least Brent would be. And she’d never infect anyone else again.
That had to count for something.
He stepped around the flattened clothing, wondering for a moment if he should do something with them but then he decided no, leave it. It didn’t matter. Let some animal or something come along and scatter them, scatter the dust remains of her. After everything she’d done, she didn’t deserve any other kind of rest.
Maybe that was a bit self-righteous of him but so be it. She’d stolen his life. He was glad he could finally return the favor.
He pushed through a set of bushes, feeling their spindly branches scrape at his arms. They burned on his skin, just adding another layer of mild pain to the ache that spread through his muscles. Dragging her had been harder than he would have thought possible. Did it have something to do with the link they’d shared? Did his reaction have to do with her death?
It didn’t really matter. He would never have that reaction again. No vampire would have that kind of hold on him.
The shadows deepened into darkness but his In-Between vision let him see easily. He spotted Brent lying on his side, just a few feet from the trunk. Dazed maybe, shocked by Bianca’s death. Sebastian hoped there was enough of the man left to be able to reclaim his life.
At least he would have a life to reclaim.
Sebastian felt a twinge of envy even as he reached down toward Brent. At least he didn’t have to live the rest of his life as an In-Between. At least he didn’t have to contend with being a freak even among freaks. Maybe he could even have a semblance of a normal life after this. Sebastian would do whatever it took to help make that happen.
After he took care of his family, of course.
“Brent, it’s over,” Sebastian said. He grabbed hold of the man’s shoulder. “Wake up.”
Even before he flopped over onto his back, Sebastian knew the man was dead. In the darkness, the blood coating his nose and mouth looked brackish. It gave off a vaguely sour stench. Lifeless eyes stared out, distended, the veins inside burst, filling the whites with blood. His mouth was open in silent agony. His arms and legs curled up, his hands twisted into claws.
Sebastian touched his neck, feeling for the pulse he knew wasn’t there. The skin beneath his fingers felt cool to the touch. Rigor mortis already setting in.
Why? Why had Brent died?
“I hate to say I toldja.”
Charlie’s voice sounded from behind him.
CHAPTER 9
Sebastian turned. Charlie looked almost insubstantial but there was enough of him for Sebastian to see he wore a different pair of jeans and a dark green t-shirt with a white hoodie over top. Hands shoved into the back pockets of his jeans, Charlie gave a shrug. His blond hair shifted over his shoulders.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Sebastian said. He stood up. The muscles in his legs protested. He could feel them bunching.
“I told you maybe you shouldn’t kill her,” Charlie said. “What do you think happened to him?” He pointed at Brent’s body at Sebastian’s feet.
“How should I know?” Sebastian said. “Maybe she took too much from him and he couldn’t survive it.”
“He couldn’t survive her death you mean,” Charlie said.
Sebastian shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Her death should have freed him.”
“He doesn’t look all that free, unless you consider death the ultimate freedom. I’m not going to argue the point.”
“Something was wrong.”
“Yeah, that something is you killed Bianca.”
“What the hell was I supposed to do?” Sebastian’s voice rose to a yell. He could hear the hysterical edge to it but he didn’t care, didn’t care if anyone else heard him but he doubted anyone was around.
“Maybe I should have asked her politely,” he said. “‘Oh Bianca, would you release Brent? And while you’re at it, just kill yourself when you’re done because you’re a bad, bad vampire.’ You mean something like that? Yeah, that woulda worked.”
“I don’t know, Sebastian,” Charlie said. “I just think maybe there were other options.”
“Like what?”
Charlie shrugged again. “I don’t know. I’m just a ghost. You’re the half-vampire expert guy and if you don’t know, maybe you should be asking for help.”
“Enough. I’ve had enough of this.”
Sebastian stepped past Charlie. Through the trees, he could see the glow of the airport. If he was lucky, he could Influence his way back inside and still make his flight.
Retribution of Soul: Book 3 of the In-Between Page 11