Mercy's Debt (Montgomery's Vampires Series Book One)

by Sloan Archer

  No, in truth, he treated me much, much better. He regarded me more like a bewitching goddess, listening intently as I told him anecdotes about Liz, Grams, my upbringing in Pelville, and my past few years at Dewhurst.

  Ironically, it was the grim stories about my impoverished youth that brought us closer because it was a strong common bond that we shared. Robert and I had both lost our parents at a young age, and we both had to work very hard to earn a respectable place within society.

  In retrospect, it seemed silly that I’d worried about Robert learning the truth about my jaded past. It had been difficult to discuss such an undignified history with a man as sophisticated and handsome as Robert, but I was glad that I had. I like to think that Grams would have been proud that I remained true to myself.

  Our outings had passed in a blur during the following two weeks; first the theatre, then the ballet, and, lastly, a night spent in my apartment watching movies. Robert swore that he didn’t mind spending a thousand dollars to suffer through crappy B movies all night for our date, but I still felt guilty nonetheless.

  One of the best aspects of all of the dates was the fact that Robert got to meet Liz, who instantly loved him. She had joined us for our night in, proclaiming that Robert was out of his mind because he was the only man she’d ever met who willingly turned down free beer and popcorn. She still didn’t know that he was a vampire of course, which made for an awkward few minutes when Robert had to excuse himself to the restroom to down a quick vial of blood in order to hold off his budding fangs.

  Unfortunately, the dates also had a few disappointing aspects.

  For starters, Robert nearly lost his mind when I explained to him why I had so many scratches on my arms. I assured him that I’d clearly imagined things during my meltdown in the forest, but he was not convinced. I couldn’t really blame him for being worried, especially after what had happened to Raquel. Still, it was kind of frustrating trying to ease his paranoia.

  I probably didn’t help matters, either, by opening my trap. I only added fuel to the fire by mentioning the smiley face on the mirror (which Liz could either confirm or deny making because she simply couldn’t remember), plus the few other “oddities” that I had been noticing.

  I had repeated hang-ups from a blocked number during all hours of the day and night, which I blamed completely on Mathew. The guy was being even more of a pest than usual, calling twenty times a day, if not more. One day, I discovered muddy footsteps on my doorway that also led to my car and bedroom window. That had been a little eerie, but I imagined that Mathew had expanded his stalking efforts to include in-person visits. As tenacious as he was, I wouldn’t have put it past him to lurk around outside the apartment, which replaced any fear I may have had with annoyance. The boy had come completely unhinged.

  The bummer was that Robert had completely flipped out when I told him of these things, which made small portions of our dates a little tense. He kept hounding me about my safety, and even went as far as offering me a bodyguard, which I found ridiculous. And then he found me ridiculous for not accepting.

  There was also the fact that the man wouldn’t put the moves on me!

  Look, I appreciate a true gentleman just as much as the next girl. However, there came a time when I just wanted to yell, “Would you get naked with me already, Robert?”

  I tried everything: low-cut tops, perfume, sexy heels, flipping my hair, innuendos. Nothing physical happened, other than handholding and a few innocent kisses on the cheeks. The vampire was almost old-fashioned to a fault.

  What I truly believed, and what we never actually discussed, was the fact that he didn’t want me to feel obligated to do anything with him sexually because I was technically “on the clock” when I was with him. I mean, it wasn’t as if I could causally insert “I won’t feel like a hooker if you want to have a roll in the hay with me” into our conversation.

  Would I have been crossing some sort of moral line if we’d slept together on one of our “outings?” Maybe. But I didn’t care, and it wasn’t as if I was going to call Marlena and rat him out.

  All I wanted was some sort of signal that Robert wanted me in the same sort of way that I wanted him. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

  None of it mattered in the end, since my plan to seduce Robert was foiled shortly after he and I had our third date.

  And who was at the crux of the foiling? Mathew.

  His relentless harassment escalated to the point of madness: the incessant calls, the crying, the begging… One evening, I simply had enough.

  I didn’t consider Mathew dangerous (only pathetic), and so I consented to meeting him at the local coffeehouse to “have a talk.” It was ridiculous to agree to such a thing, I know, especially because it was a small courtesy that he never extended to me during our breakup. I probably should have told him to go to hell simply out of principal, but he assured me that he’d vanish from my life for good if I only heard him out just the one time. I figured that I could endure a few minutes of seeing his detestable face if it meant that I would get him off my back once and for all.

  When I arrived at the coffee shop, Mathew approached me in the parking lot holding a gas station rose, acting as if we were long-lost lovers meeting up for a reunion.

  And then he opened his arms and tried to hug me.

  I took a step back and formally said, “There will be none of that. Let’s go inside and get this over with.”

  It may have been petty, but I must admit that it made me feel jubilant to note that Mathew’s appearance had taken a turn for the worse since I’d last seen him. His hair had thinned greatly, he’d packed on a good twenty pounds around his once toned midsection, and he had an angry razor burn at the base of his neck. Looks like all of your chickens have come home to roost, Mathew, I thought smugly.

  We went inside, and as if it wasn’t awkward enough that he paid for only his coffee using all quarters (seriously), he then chose to sit at a table located in the utmost center of the room. The spotlights above us, which would have been a lovely addition to any interrogation room, felt so hot on my scalp that I began to worry that my hair would catch fire if we didn’t start speeding things along.

  When it got to the point that I just couldn’t wait any longer (i.e. my skin was staring to blister), I demanded him to get on with it.

  And then he lost it.

  He burst into tears as an opener, causing every pair of eyes in the room to focus on me accusingly. He then began loudly blathering about how we were meant to be, declaring that the “other guy” I was dating was “nothing but a chump.” He then concluded his tremendous outburst by flapping his arms around spastically, informing the entire coffee house that he never stopped loving me.

  At this point, I was furious; clearly I’d been duped. Mathew never had any intention of parting ways with me. Coffee was merely a ruse to get me to recommence our relationship.

  I’d played the whole “when I finally face Mathew” scenario out in my head more times than I could count: my biting words, my witty insults, my sweeping exit. When it was actually taking place, though, he was just such an utter… douchebag that I no longer cared enough to get my digs in. If anything, I was pissed at myself. How had I ever fallen under his spell?

  His life was obviously in the toilet. That was revenge enough for me.

  Without another word, I stood up and walked away. Mathew, not yet having his fill of dramatics, followed me into the parking lot and continued wailing. Of course, he did this directly in front of the coffee house windows, giving the customers a perfect viewpoint into act two of the hit production Mercy Montgomery Wants to Die of Embarrassment.

  I rooted through my handbag looking for my keys as he carried on sobbing, cursing myself for choosing such an enormous purse for the occasion. (On a side note, if there’s one thing I learned from the experience, it was to never again go boho-chic for an outing with the ex. Keep it simple and use a small clutch bag.)

  I finally located the damn ke
ys, stepping around Mathew in order to get into my car.

  Then three things happened all at once: Mathew grabbed my arm, Robert materialized out of nowhere, and Mathew hit the deck.

  The icing on the whole shit cake of the evening was the subsequent argument that ensued between the three of us.

  Robert yelled at Mathew for “placing his hands on a lady.”

  Mathew reacted to Robert’s assault, screeching, “Why don’t you fuck right off, moneybags?”

  And I yelled at the two of them for acting like apes.

  After I’d calmed down from the shock of the fight, it occurred to me that Robert must have been monitoring my movements. He’d have no other reason to be at a coffeehouse.

  He didn’t even have the decency to deny it when I accused him! He merely shrugged his shoulders and stated that he was looking out for my safety, and that I’d left him no other choice because I’d refused his bodyguard.

  It was then that I snapped.

  A crowd had formed around our sideshow, and I was beyond humiliated. I’d had my fill of Mathew’s whining, and I was sick of Robert telling me what was “best” for me.

  “So, this is what my choices have come down to: a cheater or a stalker?” I yelled. “To hell with the both of you!”

  I pushed my suitors out of the way and jumped into my car. “I’d rather be on my own!” I yelled out the window as I drove passed.

  Mathew, Robert, and the audience remained as still as statues, gaping at in me in astonishment as I peeled out on to the street. I didn’t bother to check on any of them in my rearview, angrily contemplating how I ever managed to get involved with such idiots.

  FIFTEEN

  The cell phone sitting by the door lit up once again, disrupting the atmosphere with its shrill melody. It was the fifth time that it had sounded that evening, and just as before, it clicked over to voicemail on the third ring.

  Liz, incensed by the continual interruptions, snapped up the remote and paused her favorite tearjerker. Letting out an aggravated breath, she hopped up from the couch and shuffled over to the side table where the relentless noise-maker was sitting. She snapped up the phone, intending to place it on silent, but then noticed that all the missed calls were from the same number. Robert’s number.

  Her eyebrows knitted together as she speculated about the numerous calls; could there be some sort of emergency?

  She was contemplating returning the call on behalf of Mercy when the phone lit up in her hand. She hit “answer” and lifted it to her ear.

  “H-hello?” She felt rude, answering a phone that didn’t belong to her.

  “Mercy?”

  “No, Robert, this is Liz… Mercy’s roommate.”

  “Oh, yes. Hello Elizabeth. How are you?”

  “I’m okay.” She waited, but he said nothing more. “So, I’m guessing that you’re looking for Mercy?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s out, actually, and I believe that she’ll be gone for at least a few more hours. Funny, I thought you were the one she was out with.”

  “I am afraid not.”

  “Oh. Well, she left her phone behind. Again. She’s always forgetting the thing. I’ve been listening to it ring all evening,” she said with a curt emphasis on the last two words. “I saw all your missed calls. Is everything all right?”

  “Well… Yes and no.”

  “Oh? Is there anything that I can help you with?”

  Robert sighed sullenly. “I do not know if you can help me, Elizabeth.”

  “Try me.” Now she was curious.

  “I do not know where to begin,” he said. “I have upset Mercy in a terrible way, and now she is refusing to return any of my calls. It has been over a week since I last spoke to her.”

  “What did you do?” Liz asked pryingly.

  “She did not tell you?” He was taken aback.

  “No,” Liz said carefully. “Mercy can be quite… secretive about her personal affairs. Sometimes she has just a little too much pride for her own good.”

  “Yes,” he agreed.

  “So, what did you do?”

  He exhaled again. “Too many things to recount, Elizabeth. The worst of it is that I… I punched this Mathew person in the face.”

  “Whoa! You socked Mathew?” she shrieked. “Awesome!”

  “You know him?”

  “Well, I used to. I can’t stand the guy. He totally broke Mercy’s heart. He…” She stopped, worried that she’d said too much already.

  “I see.”

  “So, what do you need?”

  “I do not know, Elizabeth,” he said sadly. “Perhaps I require some advice on what to do about Mercy. She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I cannot bear not having her in my life.”

  Liz placed a hand over her chest, touched by Robert’s words. “Well, you can talk to me,” she said.

  “Can I?”

  “Of course,” she said. “I only want what’s best for Mercy. She deserves to finally have a bit of joy. You obviously make her very happy.”

  “I do? Are you certain?”

  “I’m positive. I’ve never seen her as happy and relaxed as she is with you.”

  “I am very pleased to hear you say that.” He paused for a moment. “Would you…”

  “Would I what?” Liz asked.

  “Would you like to come to my home tonight and provide me guidance about Mercy?”

  “Now, you mean?”

  “Yes. If you are not busy. I can send a car for you.”

  “Well…” She thought for a moment. “I don’t know. The thing is, I don’t know if Mercy would be too happy about me going over to your house in secret.”

  “I see.”

  “But,” Liz continued on, “you do seem to genuinely care for her.”

  “I do. With my entire heart.”

  “And she does seem to care for you.”

  “I hope that is true.”

  “Hmm.” She chewed on the side of her cheek, undecided. “Did you really punch Mathew?” she asked, unable to hide the smile from her voice.

  “I did. Right in the jaw.” His voice contained a bit of a smile, too.

  “You know what, Robert? Send your car. I’m coming over.

  SIXTEEN

  Liz, thanks to the triple shot latte Robert had given her, fought against an overwhelming urge to pee. She jittered in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs uncomfortably. She felt for the man, she really did, but if he didn’t stop talking soon, her teeth were going to start floating.

  They’d been chatting nonstop for the past hour. He’d have to give his voice a break soon, right?

  “So, you see, Elizabeth, I did not want to make her feel crowded,” he prattled on. “I only offered to pay off her student loan because I have plenty of money to spare. I was in no way implying that I wished to buy her off-”

  “Uh, Robert?” Liz butted in swiftly. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but could I possibly use your restroom?”

  “Oh! Of course. I am terribly sorry. I sometimes tend to forget what it is like to have humans- uh, females- in my home.”

  Liz looked at him strangely. “Yah, I guess we ladies do tend to use the restroom more than the boys.”

  “I imagine,” he said glibly. “The restroom is down the hall. The door is just on the right.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be right back.”

  Liz laughed under her breath as she headed to the bathroom. Sure, the guy was odd, but he was also absolutely head-over-heels in love with Mercy. His adoration for her dripped from every word he spoke on her behalf.

  Mercy was a lucky girl to have found a man like Robert.

  Actually, when she thought about it, Mercy was just like Robert- minus the great wealth, obviously. They were so very different, but also very much the same. They were smart, thoughtful, and beautiful; a perfect match, like salt and pepper.

  Liz found the bathroom. She emptied her bladder, feeling such relief that her eyes rolled back into her head. Th
is is why she never drank coffee- it just went straight through her.

  She removed her ring and set in the soap dish, lathering her hands under the tap distractedly. It was strange that David had not yet called her, but she never knew what to expect when he had nights out with the boys. They were probably halfway to Vegas by now, sharing a bottle of cheap vodka from a paper bag.

  But then the phone in her pocket vibrated to life.

  She quickly dried her hands and answered the phone. “David,” she scolded, “I was wondering where you’ve-”

  “Liz, thaaaaaank God,” he slurred. “I misssss you, baby.”

  He was drunk.

  “David!” Liz chided. “How much have you had to drink?”

  “Jus’ a couple,” he slurred.

  “Yah,” she snorted. “A couple of six-packs.”

  “Lissssen. I need my house key. I’ve locked myself right out of the house! Can you beeeelieve it?” he laughed hysterically.

  Liz rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t really mad. At least he’d made it home okay. But he better not have driven home in his condition.

  “Da-vid,” she uttered in two syllables.

  “Yes, baby? I loooove you, my angel.”

  “Oh, God,” she sighed. She checked the time on her phone. It was just past midnight. “Okay, I’ll bring you your key, but I’m not at home right now. I’ll have to swing by the apartment first to pick up my car and grab your key. I probably won’t be there for about an hour.”

  “M’kay.”

  “Alright, I’ll see you soon.”

  Shaking her head, Liz hung up her phone; guess the conversation with Robert was going to have to be cut short.

  SEVENTEEN

  The killer’s body stiffened from within the darkness of the apartment.

  Could it be?

  Yes.

  The bitch was finally home.

  The wait for Mercy had made for a tedious evening, but the perseverance was about to pay off.

  It had gone on long enough. She must die like the others.

  On the other side of the door, Liz turned and waved at Carl. He was such a lovely man, waiting for her the way that he was. Both he and Robert were very sweet- true old school gentleman.