“And our guys, too,” said the other. I assumed it was Petzly, but until he stepped into view, I wasn’t certain.
“Yes,” Evans agreed.
With his dark hair and nose ring, it was Petzly who cracked into a wooden crate and lifted the lid for Evans to inspect its contents. Evans, with his bowl-cut hair, nodded his approval, and Petzly dropped the lid.
The crate closed with a thud, and I was left to wonder what the contents could be. For a moment, the two vampires said nothing, and Evans scanned the stacks of crates. Had I not known better, I’d have thought he knew we were here. But Violet’s heartbeat was not out of place with the human workers roaming about. There was no chance that he knew.
As if my conviction had convinced him, Evans climbed into a small boat at the edge of the water. Petzly followed.
The bigger man pulled the cord to start the motor, while Evans waited. The boat’s engine revved to life, splashing water and filling the quiet harbor with loud mechanical noise.
Violet stepped forward. I raised my hand. She stopped.
Petzly’s back was to us, but I could see Evans’s lips move. With the sound of the motor, there was no way to decipher what was said between the two. The speedboat took off into the night, leaving spotlights and cargo behind. Leaving us behind.
“Why?” Violet asked. “If they’re out there, we can’t hear them. Why let them go?”
“We don’t know what they’re up to,” I replied.
“I can make them talk,” she said. “We can make them squeal all of their little secrets.”
I didn’t doubt she would try. It was a reminder that inside that beautiful package was a killer. A hunter who slaughtered my kind without remorse. It was easy to forget when she smiled or wrapped her arms around my neck. It wasn’t just me that meant death for her, but her who could mean the same for me—if I let my guard down. But I never relaxed, never allowed myself to be lulled into a sense of comfort. Because that’s who I was, just like her—a killer.
“Not Evans,” I replied. “The other, maybe.”
“Only one needs to talk,” Violet said.
We stepped closer to where Evans and Petzly had been, toward the crate they had opened.
“What are the chances that I can change your mind?” Violet asked. “That we steal a boat and follow them, or even better, that you can fly?”
“Zero.”
Violet nodded and looked out over the black water.
“Then what do we do now?” she asked.
It was a good question. With our only lead out of reach, we could check the cargo, but there was little else to do but wait.
Chapter Eighteen
Violet
Sounds of the boat’s motor faded off into the darkness, though I remained on alert. How far would they have to go before the docks were beyond their view? I wasn’t sure how I felt about letting them go. Part of me hated the whole surveil-and-release idea. They were vampires, bad vampires. But, if Walter was right and they wouldn’t talk, waiting really may have been the best move.
I was used to waiting in the dark—it was the best way to catch vamps. We remained still where we stood as hours passed, watching the water. I followed Walter’s lead. It wasn’t until he moved that I did too.
Walter opened the wooden box that the two vampires had inspected. When the lid dropped to the ground, it made a thud. I looked around, expecting someone to notice. Human security guards walked the grounds. Between the boat, the talking, and now the sounds of the box, someone was bound to come this way.
“They won’t notice,” Walter said.
It was as if he had read my mind. I turned back to him, and found him pulling out something from the wooden crate. He shook the black metal gently, and straw fell away. It was a machine gun.
“The guards,” Walter said. His face hardened as he looked over the weapon. “They’ve been glamoured.”
Sure enough, a man walked by, and shined a flashlight over us, and ignored us as if we weren’t there.
I waved a hand at him.
He kept walking.
“Wait,” I said. “We need to discuss the gun too, but the guards—they’ve all been glamoured?”
“Of course,” Walter replied.
I looked into the box. It was long and deep. Round tips stuck out from beneath the straw. Gun barrels—a lot of them.
“Holy—” I looked to Walter. “So to be clear, we can do or say whatever we want and no one is going to hear?”
“It wouldn’t be an intelligent location for Evans and his companion to meet if there was an opportunity for onlookers.”
“Other than us,” I corrected.
“It wasn’t particularly intelligent to miss us, either.”
I nodded.
It was strange trying to ignore the guard that walked by, only ten feet away. Instinct told me to hide. But Walter was right.
“So it seems they are planning something major,” I said, glancing down at the guns.
“It does.”
“I thought you guys didn’t use guns,” I said.
“I don’t.”
“But this guy does?” I asked. “Evans?”
Walter said nothing.
“How well do you know him?” I asked. “Why do you think he’s planning on killing the queen? And by the looks of the guns, that’s not where the damage is meant to stop.”
“I’ve known Arthur Evans long enough to know what kind of man he is,” Walter said. “Whatever massacre he is planning, it’s deeper than it seems.”
“So you don’t think he’s collecting others just to shoot up that walled house?” I asked.
His eyes flicked red, and just as quickly back to a near-black shade of brown. Had I angered him?
“You don’t want me to know about the Ulfhednar manor?” I asked. “We’re not much of a team if you’re keeping secrets.”
Walter closed the box.
“It’s not that,” he said.
“So tell me.”
“It’s dangerous for you to travel those grounds,” he said.
“So now you’re my protector or something?” I laughed. “I don’t need protecting.”
Walter said nothing.
“I’m capable of holding my own,” I said.
“I’ve noticed,” he replied. “You would not be here with me if that were not the case.”
“So what makes that place different?” I asked.
“Come,” he said, and walked off the way we had entered.
“I’m not leaving,” I said. “And that’s not an answer.”
He brushed his hand back through his brown hair. “If we want to wait for their return,” he said, “it should be beyond their view and their notice. Your heartbeat must be one like those of the guards. I must be indistinguishable from our surroundings. If that is not the case, then our task likely ends in a fight. Or death.”
The fight part didn’t sound too bad to me, except for the fact that we wouldn’t learn what we came to learn.
“I won’t let it be yours,” Walter said.
There was sincerity on his face. He acknowledged my competence yet tried to keep me from danger. He was no typical vampire. I already knew it, but it still surprised me.
Walter walked down an isle of metal boxes, then stopped in front of one.
“Here,” he said, just before he ripped open the metal door, padlock and all.
“You want to hide out inside?” I asked.
He held open the door and waited for me to enter. A gentleman.
I stepped inside and imagined what I’d walked into the last time I was at the docks, the last time I was inside one of these crates. I shuddered.
This time was different.
I leaned back against the metal wall and watched the moonlight fade into a sliver as Walter pulled the door most of the way closed. I wondered how well he could see, while everything looked black to me.
A realization came over me while I waited for my eyes to adjust. I had willingly allo
wed myself to be alone in this confined space with a vampire. What was it about Walter that made me so comfortable? Why was I so confident that he was not a threat? I couldn’t say, but I was sure.
The outlines of shapes began to come into focus, first the hard lines of boxes stacked from floor to ceiling, then the shape of the man standing across from me. We sat in silence for a time, waiting for the boat to return. But after a while, I wasn’t sure that it would.
“So if you think Evans is planning something other than an attack on the queen,” I said, “what do you think those plans are?”
I watched as his features slowly came into focus, sharp nose, dark eyes, square jaw.
“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s just not the way Evans operates.”
“Tell me about him,” I said, though it wasn’t what I was thinking. I wanted Walter to tell me about himself.
“He has a way about him that draws in others like him, opportunists,” Walter said. “Evans has spent his existence preying on those with wealth or power, to steal what he covets.”
“And to you,” I said, “that’s not typical for a vampire?”
The corner of his lips turned up. I loved it when he did that.
“I’ve known many men,” he said. “both human and vampire, over the years. Some are content with mediocrity, some strive for perfection, some consume all in a frenzy of greed. There are those who do what must be done, and those who style themselves puppet masters, manipulating others for amusement.”
By the way he said it, I knew which he meant to describe Evans.
“He’s the last,” I said. “The puppet master.”
Walter nodded. “Which is why I believe there is more here than we can see.”
“And which are you?” I asked.
He was quiet a moment, as if he needed to think about it, or maybe he didn’t want to say.
“I believe as we travel through existence, we may find ourselves different men at different times.”
So his answer was more than one.
“I’ve taken more than I needed at times,” he said. “Others, I’ve done what I needed to do to survive.”
“And now?” I asked. “Which are you now?”
“Now,” he said, “I grow weary of doing what I must. I look back on what was, long for days decades past, and search for contentment.”
It was a complex answer, which made sense. I’d had my fair share of changes too. I went from happy child, to angry teen, to whatever it was I could be considered now.
“And you?” he asked.
What was I?
“I don’t know,” I said. “I guess I’m searching.”
“For what?”
It was strange, this openness I felt with him. I could tell Walter anything, and I knew he wouldn’t judge me. I felt acceptance even before I said anything at all. I’d never had that.
“My place,” I said. “My parents always wanted me to be a certain way. I was expected to do all the right things—go to college, get a degree, then return home to marry some guy whose family was just like mine. It’s what you do when you’re a Fields. And before you say it, I know—Violet Fields. You’d think my parents were hippies. They aren’t.”
“It’s a lovely name,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said. “I never liked it.”
“Some things we don’t choose for ourselves,” he said. “But are given.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I know a lot of people have it worse than me. And I know it’s lucky to be born to parents who can provide nannies and vacations in Europe. But I never accepted that someone else was going to decide my fate. I decide.”
“So you didn’t marry?” he asked.
“Hell no,” I said with a laugh. “I went to college, but I didn’t study business. I picked women’s studies, enjoyed learning some new things, but eventually I dropped out. The place wasn’t for me. I decided to find my own way, and have been traveling the states, and a bit of Europe, ever since.”
“Hunting?” he asked.
“I kind of fell into it,” I said. “And I’m good at it. It isn’t for my family. It’s just for me.”
“How long have you been hunting?” Walter asked.
“Is that a sly way of asking me how old I am?”
He smiled, a full, joyous grin. It was nice.
“I’m twenty-five,” I said. “How old are you?”
He looked somewhere between my age and thirty-five. I was terrible at guessing these kinds of things. But given his name, his way of speaking, and the nature of what he was, I was guessing that he only appeared young.
“What day is this?” he asked.
“Friday,” I said.
“The date.”
“Oh.” I had to think about that one. I checked my phone. Not too long before, the day had changed. “Saturday,” I said. “November fourth.”
“Then as the date has changed, so have I.” He took a step toward the doorway, and I moved to stop him. I grabbed his wrist, and then wondered if I should have. I considered letting go, but he turned and put my hands in his.
“I am two hundred thirteen.”
I stared, stunned.
His eyes were crimson, his hands big. This night had been crazy and wonderful, just talking. It was like he already knew me, and I knew him, yet we had hardly shared anything about each other. Two hundred thirteen.
“Why does the date matter?” I asked.
“It’s my birthday,” he replied.
Why else would he have asked about the date? I should have guessed. I wasn’t myself with Walter, I was off, yet somehow I was more me in a way I’d never known before.
“Happy birthday,” I said.
“It’s time.”
I had expected thank you, or something related to what I had said. His words threw me.
“Time for what?” I stared into his eyes, enjoying every minute we shared.
“To go.”
“What about the guns?” I asked. “And Evans.”
He disappeared before my eyes, only to return a second later.
“The guns are at the bottom of the harbor,” he said. “After the time that has passed, it is unlikely that Evans would return to this place before sunrise.”
“So you think he’s gone somewhere else, instead?” I asked.
Walter scooped me up in his arms, and I breathed in the gentle scent of his clothes, masculine yet natural. I liked it.
A flash of lights passed, and I held tight to his hard chest, barely conscious of all the ground we’d covered.
He lowered me gently to my feet in the alley that had become our special place. It meant time together, and it meant goodbye. I wasn’t ready. I held onto his hands, not wanting the night to end.
“The sun will soon rise,” he said.
I didn’t let go.
He tilted my chin up, and smiled. I leaned in, and stole a kiss.
Everything ignited. My whole body came alive with our connection. His lips were soft, yet cool like a strong mint.
His hand slid across the small of my back, pressing my body to his. It felt so right to be in his arms. And just as quickly as it happened, he pulled away.
“Goodnight, Violet.”
Before I could respond, Walter was gone.
Darkness lifted, the blanket of stars faded to blue sky. My heart sank. Daylight again, and I was alone.
Chapter Nineteen
Walter
Rose red locks cascaded over her shoulders and tickled my chin. She was younger than I remembered. No, not younger, just carefree. There was no suspicion in her eyes, no tension in her shoulders, just the jovial smile that she was meant to wear. Her blue eyes sparkled like the waves that crashed behind us.
The sun was pleasantly hot, and almost too bright. The sand was firm and cool beneath me. Violet rolled off of my chest, and ran toward the water. She turned back to me, a vision in a bikini that matched the bright red shade of her hair. She was youth and soft curves, playful as she splashed along
the water’s edge.
“Come on, Walter,” she called.
There was love in her eyes as I approached, a look which promised that no matter where we were or what else happened, it was I who mattered most. How had I become so lucky?
I scooped her up in my arms, and she squealed in surprised delight. I took her mouth and kissed her deep, tasting salty air and the sweetness that was only my mate. She opened for me, moaned for me, grew wet for me.
I ripped off the small pieces of fabric that covered her, and laid her down in the sand. Waves crashed upon our feet, and Violet looked up at me with a hunger that mirrored my own. Her eyes glowed crimson red, just before I sank my fangs into the soft flesh beneath her earlobe.
My eyes shot open.
Violet.
My cock was hard, my mouth parched. It had felt so real, yet now seemed so absurd. I would never again see the sun. And she would never be mine.
I closed my eyes and wished for more, though there was only darkness to be seen. It was always darkness. How long had it been since I had dreamed? Perhaps it had been since my mortal days. After, there had been only nightmares and darkness. Until now.
I climbed up from my place of rest, and into the room where I pretended to live.
The last rays of the setting sun peeked through the edges of my blackout curtains. It was too early. I was not yet meant to be awake.
My desire for Violet was getting out of hand, beyond what I was accustomed to dealing with. I had not had a taste for sex in over a hundred years. But I wanted everything from her, and I couldn’t accept that.
I stared at the freezer, wondering if I could do it—if I could stand the flavor of the packets held within. But it was that or find a meal before I saw her. And somehow, that sounded worse.
Violet. I wanted only Violet.
I flung open the box and grabbed a pouch of frozen blood. I took it with me into the bathroom, into the hot shower. As the water flowed from the shower head, my meal thawed, and the vivid clarity of my dream faded. I wished it wouldn’t, but I couldn’t see her like this. Not like this.
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