Cliff's Descent

by Dianne Duvall

  Bastien stopped and nodded for Cliff to take the lead.

  This was so cool!

  “Hey,” Cliff said cheerfully, stopping only a foot or two away from the vamps. “What’s up?”

  Raising their heads, they turned glowing eyes upon him and bared fangs that dripped with crimson liquid.

  The blond vampire hissed like a cat.

  Cliff burst into laughter. “Dude! Seriously?”

  Frowning, the blond released the woman he clutched.

  Cliff couldn’t tell if she was a student or a young professor. Eyes unfocused, she staggered a couple of steps backward, then slid down the wall to sit on the ground. Blood trailed from a wound on her neck and dirt marred the front of her shirt, as if the vampire had been groping her while he fed.

  The vampire’s brunet companion shoved his victim toward the other woman and faced Cliff. That woman definitely looked like a student. Hell, he didn’t think she was even out of her teens yet.

  “Who the fuck are you?” the second vamp demanded.

  “I’m Cliff,” he answered, maintaining his genial smile as cold fury built behind it. What if that had been Emma and Cynthia? What if these vampires had cornered Emma and her friend when they were out for a girls’ night or something?

  The two vampires looked at each other, their blood-streaked faces blank with confusion.

  “What did you think I would say?” Cliff asked. “That I’m your worst nightmare?” Drawing two long daggers, he displayed them in a series of showy swirls, flips, and tosses as the voices in his head jumped on board his anger and begged for blood. “I probably am but thought it would be rude to say so.”

  The blond drew a bowie knife. “You’re an Immortal Guardian?”

  “Sadly, no,” Cliff said. It could have been Emma, the voices taunted. That could’ve been Emma he was groping. That could be her shirt he left his filthy paw prints on. “But I do still plan to kick your ass.” As soon as the words left his lips, Cliff dropped his smile and let the fury consume him.

  His fangs descended. Adrenaline flooded his veins. And he attacked.

  Swearing, the vampires scrambled to fight him off and avoid his blades.

  But Cliff struck with vicious intensity.

  It could have been Emma. It could have been Emma. The mantra continued in his head, egging him on.

  Thanks to Bastien’s training, the vampires proved no match for him. Cliff drew blood with his first swings. Then drew some more. And more, toying with them like a cat with mice. Hoarse screams poured forth from the vampires’ lips as they swung their own weapons wildly.

  He’d seen what vampires did to female victims. He knew these two wouldn’t have stopped at taking blood.

  It could have been Emma.

  Satisfaction filled him as he hurt those bastards.

  One vampire collapsed to the ground, already starting to shrivel up.

  Cliff grabbed the other by the hair, yanked his head to one side, and started to sink his fangs into the dying vamp’s neck. Let’s see how you like it, motherfucker.

  Bastien shot forward and stopped him before he could, inserting his arm between Cliff and the vampire. “Don’t.”

  Cliff glared up at him and tried to shove him away.

  But Bastien didn’t budge. “Don’t,” he repeated.

  “Why?” he snarled. “They were draining those women. Why not give them a taste of their own medicine?”

  “Because Melanie is worried that drinking the blood of another vampire will increase your viral load.” He frowned. “Or is it viral count?” Frustration rippled across his features before he shook his head. “I can’t remember. I just know she’s afraid that it will make the brain damage and madness progress faster.”

  Cliff blinked. His viral count? Melanie had said that?

  Or was it his viral load?

  Like Bastien, he’d heard Melanie mention something along those lines before but couldn’t remember the specifics.

  Dragging in a deep breath, Cliff realized the voices had receded, taking the rage with them. He dropped the vampire. “He’ll be dead soon anyway.”

  Bastien clapped him on the back. “Good. How do you feel?”

  Cliff thought about it as the vampire at their feet drew his last breath and began to deteriorate. “Juiced. Relaxed. Relieved that I didn’t lose it completely and try to bail on you or something.”

  “I knew you’d keep it together.”

  “Yeah, but I really wanted to bite that guy. I mean, I wanted to rip his throat out.”

  “Don’t let it disturb you. I feel the same way every night. I’m not exactly what one would call even-tempered.”

  Cliff laughed. “I think you would bore Melanie if you were.”

  Bastien knelt before the women.

  Cliff sank onto his haunches beside him. “Are they going to be okay?” he asked softly.

  Both women had lost consciousness during the battle, but his acute hearing told him each had a strong pulse.

  “They’ll be fine.” Bastien drew his cell phone out and dialed.

  Cliff was glad neither woman would remember the attack, let alone be haunted by it.

  Glancing around, he grimaced. Or be horrified by the ferocity with which he’d dealt with their attackers.

  “Reordon,” a male answered faintly.

  Oh shit. Did Reordon even know Bastien had taken Cliff hunting? Because if he didn’t and Seth hadn’t given him a heads-up—

  “It’s Bastien. Cliff and I found a couple of vampires feeding on two human women. Can you send a cleanup crew out here to see them home?”

  “Sure. Where are you?” Evidently he did know.

  Bastien gave him their location.

  “How do you like hunting, Cliff?” Chris asked.

  His eyebrows flew up. “It’s weird,” he responded, loud enough for his voice to carry to the human.

  Chris laughed. “I know, right? Jack will be there in ten to take care of the women.”

  The line went dead.

  “That was weird, too,” Cliff commented as Bastien tucked away his phone.

  “What was?”

  “Reordon’s asking me what I thought about hunting instead of asking you if I’d lost my shit.”

  Bastien shrugged. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’m actually starting to like that asshole.”

  “Chris?”

  “Yes.”

  “Reordon’s a good guy,” Cliff said slowly. “He’s been really nice to me ever since the mercenaries got their hands on me.”

  “Good. He should be. You saved a lot of lives that night.”

  Cliff smiled.

  “So,” Bastien said, “once the cleanup crew arrives, do you want to call it a night? Or are you up for more hunting?”

  “More hunting,” he said quickly. This was the best night ever.

  Chapter Ten

  Emma smiled as she watched Cliff banter with Todd.

  Something had changed in recent weeks. Cliff had seemed more relaxed lately, less on edge. She didn’t like to think about it, but for a while there…

  Well. The madness that was destined to consume him had appeared to gain a toehold. He had continued to come to the cafeteria, but his easygoing nature had struck her as being blunted somehow. Or maybe more subdued? His handsome smile sometimes seemed forced, as if he knew he should find whatever sparked it amusing, so he made the requisite motions. And he laughed less. His shoulders often looked tight and knotted with tension… or perhaps poised for action. His languid stroll had grown stiffer, as though he believed that controlling every infinitesimal motion of his limbs would enable him to control whatever was going on inside his head. And his eyes had begun to flicker with amber light.

  She wasn’t sure if they did that in reaction to something unpleasant his amazing hearing carried to his ears or something transpiring in his head, and she didn’t ask. The luminescence rarely lasted more tha
n a second or two before he brought it under control, so she didn’t want to draw attention to it.

  Since no one watched Cliff as closely as she did, most probably hadn’t noticed it. But it had worried her.

  Now, however, Cliff’s lips turned up in genuine smiles once more. His deep brown eyes sparkled with mirth as he razzed Todd. He laughed and talked more.

  He seemed happy again. Or as happy as a man in his position could be.

  Today his gaze strayed to her more often. And his smile seemed to bear some hidden meaning she couldn’t discern, as if he knew a secret and couldn’t wait to share it with her.

  Sitting across from him, Emma found herself mesmerized. Her own lips lifted in a smile that pretty much remained in place the entire time she, Cliff, Cynthia, Todd, Miles, and a few others ate lunch together.

  Cliff’s boot nudged her running shoe.

  When she reciprocated, his smile broadened into a grin even though he directed his attention at Todd.

  “We’d better go,” he told the guard. “I can hear the other guys’ stomachs growling, and they’re starting to get cranky.”

  Todd shoved the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth, then kissed Cynthia and rose.

  After tossing the table a goodbye, the two men bused their trays and left.

  “I’m going to head back to my office,” Emma told Cynthia.

  “Okay.” Smiling, her friend tapped her phone to wake it up and opened an e-book. “You want to come over tonight? Todd and I are going to binge-watch Game of Thrones for the dozenth time.”

  Emma laughed. “No, thanks. It’s been a long week, so I’m just going to curl up with a good book.” After turning in her tray, she headed down the hallway and opted to duck into the restroom to check her hair and wash her hands.

  Sadie exited one of the stalls as Emma entered. “Hi, darlin’.”

  “Hi, Sadie.”

  The elderly woman crossed to the row of motion-activated sinks and washed her hands. Today she wore a casual dress with a long skirt that ended just above thick-soled sneakers. Emma smiled, pleased to see her moving with more confidence now. She was still reed thin but didn’t seem as heartbreakingly frail as she headed for the hand dryer. Those training sessions must be paying off.

  Turning back to the mirror, Emma patted her hair.

  Sadie shook her head and gave her a wry smile as the dryer shut off. “What I wouldn’t give to have hair like yours.”

  Emma grinned, imagining her with a big snow-white Afro.

  “My hair’s so thin now I barely have enough to pull back into a bun,” she grumbled good-naturedly.

  “You have beautiful hair,” Emma protested.

  The woman harrumphed. “So how’s my hero today? I missed lunch because my torture session ran late.” Torture session being her term for her physical therapy/weight training session.

  Emma glanced at the stalls behind them.

  “Don’t worry. They’re empty.”

  She smiled. “He’s good. He seemed to be in high spirits.”

  Sadie winked. “Because you were there.” Sadie had been the one to arrange things so Emma could sit beside Cliff that first time. The sweet woman had baked cookies she knew would lure more people to the table, then plunked herself down next to Emma. And as soon as Cliff had entered the cafeteria, she’d abandoned her spot for him.

  Unexpectedly, sadness filled Emma because she knew the other woman’s matchmaking efforts would never garner the results she wished. “Sadie…”

  Her smile softening, Sadie patted Emma’s cheek. “I know. I’m sorry, sweetie. I can’t help it. It’s just that I see in you two what Henry and I had for so long.” She headed for the door but paused before opening it and turned back. “I had a lot of years with him, you know.” She shook her head. “His battle with cancer was a long one. A hard one. Every time we thought that damn disease was gone, it came back.” Her expression turned earnest. “But I’m telling you, Emma, every minute I had with my Henry made getting through the bad times worth it. That kind of love doesn’t seem to come around much nowadays.” She smiled. “So I’m going to keep hoping you and Cliff will find a way.” She opened the door. “You have yourself a nice weekend.”

  “You, too,” Emma belatedly called after her as she left.

  * * *

  Emma couldn’t stop thinking about Sadie’s words as she drove home at dusk. Nor could she stop thinking about Cliff.

  She rolled her eyes at herself. As if that was anything new. She always thought about Cliff. Tragic though it might seem, Sadie was right. The connection Emma and Cliff shared was real, not imagined. What she felt for him wasn’t simple infatuation. It wasn’t lust, easily assuaged. It wasn’t a desperate attempt to escape boredom or alleviate loneliness. It wasn’t any of the things she had experienced with the few boyfriends and even fewer lovers she’d had in the past.

  It was so much more than that. If she was honest with herself, what she felt for Cliff made everything that came before him feel like a teenager’s fleeting crushes.

  Reducing her speed, she waited for a logging truck driving in the opposite direction to pass, then turned onto the long dirt road that led to her small country home.

  She was falling in love with him.

  Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. No. She already had fallen in love with him. She’d never felt like this before… like she would walk through fire just to have one more minute with him. She’d never met a man who so enthralled her that she would rather have a platonic friendship with him than take another man as a lover.

  Which was not to say she wasn’t physically attracted to Cliff, because… damn, that man was hot. Just the press of his muscled thigh against hers under the table left her all hot and tingly.

  Pulling into her driveway, she cut the lights and turned off the engine. Though the house had an attached two-car garage, her car wouldn’t fit in it. Ever since she had proudly withdrawn a sizable chunk of her savings account to put a down payment on the house, she’d been using the garage as a workshop for all her fixer-upper projects. Tools and materials occupied half of it while the other half accommodated the old economy car her parents had taught her to drive in and given her when she’d started college. Emma had thought it might be smart to keep it on hand as a backup in case the newer one ever gave her trouble.

  A sense of satisfaction filled her as she crossed the grass.

  The place hadn’t been much to look at when she’d decided to make the leap and purchase it, but it’d had what her dad called good bones. Her parents had always instilled in her the importance of owning property. She glanced around. Now this—and several acres surrounding it—was hers.

  She smiled wryly. As long as she kept up the mortgage payments.

  Fortunately, the network paid her well enough that she was able to make two mortgage payments a month and was already a couple of years ahead on her payments now. The network also offered employees no-interest home loans for the duration of their work tenure.

  Thanks to people like Sadie, the network was seriously loaded and went above and beyond anything she’d seen any other company do to keep its employees happy.

  No wonder Sadie and other elderly employees were loath to retire. Free meals—breakfast through dinner if one so desired—prepared by talented chefs. Free healthcare with on-site clinics that required no appointments. Free childcare for employees with little ones. Mr. Reordon even offered grants to college-bound children of employees.

  And from what she understood, other branches of the network did the same.

  A cool breeze set plants to dancing and swaying as she headed up the pretty stone walkway that led to the porch. She had laid those stones herself. The lawn that had been patchy at best the year she bought the place was now thick and green. She smiled. The shrubs she’d planted along the front of the house on either side of the path were coming along nicely. Hanging baskets overflowed with flowers on the front porch. She wr
inkled her nose when her gaze went to the wood siding.

  The rest of the exterior, unfortunately, looked pretty shabby. Paint that used to be… peach maybe?… flaked off in sizable strips. Emma had already bought some cheerful yellow to replace it along with bright white for the trim, but that was going to be an exhausting job. She’d have to sand off the flakes and—

  Nope. She didn’t want to think about that tonight.

  Unlocking the front door, she entered and flipped on the lights.

  Much better.

  She’d stripped the shudder-worthy wallpaper off every wall—and it had been on every wall—and painted each room with colors that appealed to her. Though the wood floor that ran throughout the house was scuffed and faded, she still loved it. She’d had the warped Formica countertop in the kitchen replaced with gleaming granite. Once she repainted the cabinets and added modern hardware, the kitchen would look fantastic.

  Her gaze went to the treadmill parked in the space meant for dining.

  When she’d bought the house, she had intended to purchase a nice table and chairs to fill the pretty nook, imagining inviting some special guy over for a candlelit dinner.

  Then she’d met Cliff and…

  Well. Not much point in buying a table she wouldn’t use. She couldn’t imagine any other man sitting in that nook with her and didn’t really want to. So she’d opted for a treadmill and was content to eat her dinner at the coffee table every night while she watched the news.

  She sighed. As much as she loved the place, tonight it seemed too quiet.

  Fortunately, her nearest neighbors were far enough away that she could crank up some tunes without disturbing them. Hendrix helped her shake off the restive feelings that tried to creep in while she showered, donned a tank top and some soft pajama pants, then whipped up a quick pasta dish.

  Once she ate and did the dishes though, the restlessness returned.

  Emma settled on her comfy sofa and tried to dive into a new e-book. But it failed to snare her interest. She tried another one. And another with the same results.

  What was wrong with her tonight?

  Giving up on reading, she turned the television on and surfed Netflix until she found a horror flick that looked promising.