Samantha holds her hands up. She has tears in her eyes and won’t meet my gaze. “I don’t care who you are. I won’t file any reports, so you have no business talking to my daughter.”
“Is this a familiar process for you?”
She maintains eye contact with her slippers.
“I know this is difficult. I’m here to help you–”
“I don’t need your help. I want to go home. With my parents.” She really wants to take the kid back to that? What is wrong with her? I tamp down my temper, but it’s hard.
“Samantha, do you know that most children who suffer abuse at a young age either get in abusive relationships later or become criminals? Is that what you want for Abby?”
She shakes her head. I’m not even touching her. “My parents would never touch her–”
“Maybe not yet, but–”
She turns away. I feel sick.
“Okay,” I say, because I can’t change her mind. I go into my schpiel, although it’s the last thing I want to do. “The hospital is required to report this to the police. That means there will be a record of this treatment, in case you decide to file charges later.”
Her shoulders tense, but she doesn’t respond. I have one last try.
“Take this.” I press a business card into her hand. She glances at it but there isn’t much to see, only a telephone number. No name. “If you need me, day or night, I will come get you. For your little girl’s sake, I hope you will.”
She walks back into the room, ignoring me.
Hannah waits at the nurses’ station. I shake my head the tiniest amount, and her shoulders slump.
“I’m sorry I wasted your time. I know you need to get some sleep.”
“You know that’s not why I’m angry.” I keep my voice low, can’t help the growl in it. “I just hate thinking about that little girl being back in that home. If the mom wants to be there, that’s her decision. A stupid one, but it’s still up to her. But that kid doesn’t deserve to be there. She gets no choice.”
I could work some magic and get the mom to change her mind if you want. Hannah’s mouth doesn’t move, but I hear her voice in my mind loud and clear. Secret conversations are one of the perks of being her best friend.
I keep my voice low. “No, witchy woman, we’re not taking away her free will. You know that never ends well.”
I’m just saying, if you feel that strongly about it–
“Just because you have the ability to persuade her decision, doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do.”
“Blah, blah, blah. Because that wouldn’t at all be like someone turning all creepy and intimidating in order to get an abusive jerk under control.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever, Hannah. The point is that if this girl wants help, she’s going to have to decide that for herself. Otherwise the change won’t stick. And in the meantime, I’m going to hope that nobody ends up seriously hurt.”
Hannah’s pager beeps. “I gotta go. See you back at EW.” She can’t hide her stress behind her smile. Not from her best friend.
We definitely need a vacation.
~o~
The cab drops me off in front of E.W. House around one a.m. I tiptoe in the side door and up the stairs. Mine and Hannah’s dorm room is on the fourth floor, but I detour to the third. I need to eat, bad.
I step out of the stairwell expecting darkness, but I’m surprised to find all the lights on and a girl with black hair sitting alone in a corner of the game room. She looks up and her unnaturally blue eyes barely register my presence before she’s glaring at me.
Great. Just what I needed to make my day complete. An altercation with Lily James before bed. But I can’t ignore that she should be in her room. “What are you still doing up? It’s after lights out.”
“None of your business,” she snaps. “What are you doing on this floor? Shouldn’t you be in bed, getting your beauty rest?”
Her attitude warns me off, but what I smell pulls me a step closer. Is that marijuana?
I can’t see Lily’s right hand; it’s behind her legs on the couch. Her left fiddles with the hem of her over-sized sweatshirt. I’m too tired and hungry to play games, so I just ask. “Are you smoking pot?”
Her gaze narrows on me. “Are you just getting in for the night?”
I step closer; she shifts so her legs are tucked up underneath the sweatshirt. I still can’t see her hand.
She goes on the offensive. “Wonder what Director Phillips would say if he knew Little Miss Perfect broke curfew?”
Her threat doesn’t scare me. “Who do you think he’ll believe? Me or you?” She doesn’t know it, but the Director has been in my pocket since the day he was hired.
She moves again, and this time her untidy onyx hair falls into her eyes. Geez. I wince at her unkempt appearance. I’m no Barbie Doll, but I at least own a brush.
Lily doesn’t reach up and brush her hair out of her eyes like I expect. If she does have a joint on her, she knows I have to report it. Those are the rules, and she’s had two strikes here at E.W. House already. Three and she’s gone.
“Look, can’t you just forgot you saw me?” she asks, and the venom in her tone makes it clear how much she hates having to ask me.
“If you need someone to talk to—”
“Yeah, yeah, all right.”
Her quick dismissal gives me pause. It smacks of more than just her desire to get rid of me. Is there something else going on? And now that I think about it, why would she break the rules out here in the open? She wouldn’t, she’s too crafty for that.
“Why aren’t you in your dorm room?”
She shrugs, but can’t keep her face from tightening. I must have hit on the real problem.
“Is Landry,” her roommate, “doing something?”
“More like someone,” she says under her breath. A normal human wouldn’t have been able to hear it, but my senses are on high alert because I’m so hungry. “Look, I just wanted to watch the Late Late Late Show, all right?” This she says louder, and nods to the TV in the corner. Which she so wasn’t watching when I came through here.
She probably promised not to rat out her roommate, who is breaking a big rule if she has a boy in her room. I spin and start down the hallway, intending to find out.
“I was just watching TV!” Lily calls out behind me. Yeah, sure.
Guess my dinner is going to have to wait. A girl’s job is never done.
2 - Shane
I pound the steering wheel again. It still doesn’t help. My temper flares dangerously and I let it out by yanking on the handbrake and forcing my truck into a drift around a corner.
It’s a risk, because this isn’t one of Boston’s worst neighborhoods, and there’s a good chance a cop might actually be paying attention to traffic around here.
But getting steamed is a risk too—I might just strangle my sister when I manage to track her down. Where could Rachel be?
“Um, Shane?”
“What?” I snap.
My youngest sister Chloe cringes in the backseat, and guilt surges. Way to go. Make the eight-year-old feel bad. It’s not her fault that we’re out at two a.m. looking for our other sister, Rachel.
I work to calm my voice, but my temper still simmers inside. “Sorry, Chloe. What is it?”
“Can you slow down? Your driving is wearing on my nerves.”
What kind of kid talks like that? I’m reminded once again that my littlest sister isn’t normal. Like I can ever really forget.
I lay off the gas and the truck coasts down to the speed limit. Stress is one of Chloe’s triggers and the last thing I need is for her to have a seizure while we search for our missing sister. I can only handle so many problems at once.
I just don’t understand where Rachel would’ve gone.
I’m the first to admit I don’t get teen girls. Never have. Never will. Even relating to an eight-year-old is a stretch. And I didn’t have the best parenting examples to follow, so most of the tim
e I feel like I’m flying blind.
This isn’t the only knock-down-drag-out fight Rach and I have had. Maybe the worst, but not the first. And running away like this isn’t her style. She usually hides in her room for awhile until she cools off, then comes out and tells me matter-of-factly how I was wrong.
My temper heats again. She knows this is my prime hunting time. Vampires are at their most active between one and five a.m.—
Suddenly, I know where she went. On a solo hunt.
That’s what all her griping about “more responsibility” has been about, even though she hasn’t said it directly.
Fear clenches my stomach as I whip the truck around, pointing it toward the warehouse and the small coven we identified last night in our family’s version of a sneak and peek. If Rachel tried to take down four vampires alone, she could already be dead. She’s not ready, I know she’s not.
I can’t let what happened to Cassidy happen to her.
My cell phone vibrates against my hip. I dig it out of my pocket, but don’t recognize the number. It could be Rachel calling from a payphone, so I answer.
“Hi, is this Shane Campton?” a polite, female voice asks.
“Yes, it is.”
“Hello, this is Meredith from Mercy Hospital. We have you listed as the emergency contact for a Rachel Campton?”
Dread fills my veins. No, no, no. “Yes, that’s my sister. Is she there? What happened?”
“We’re not exactly sure. She claims she’s been in a fight this evening. Is that something you would know about?”
Yeah, sounds about right.
“No, ma’am, she snuck out of the house earlier. Is she okay?”
“Yes, she’s fine. She’s trying to refuse treatment, so we’re hoping you can help us out with that. Do you know where we’re located?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
I hang up the phone, my frustration boiling over. Rachel is sixteen now, the same age Cassidy was… I slam the lid on that thought, not needing a reminder of how I’ve failed my sisters.
Rachel’s actions tonight are reminder enough.
~o~
I park near the ER at Mercy General. Chloe drags herself out of the backseat, but I don’t have time to feel bad that she’s missing sleep. I’m too busy thinking of all the ways I’m going to tell Rachel off for her reckless behavior.
Inside, we’re intercepted by a nurse who leads us past several rooms, each with an occupant who looks worse than the last. Rachel must be in pretty bad shape if she’s anywhere near the end of this row. I quickly squash down that thought, turn my worry into anger—something I’m better at dealing with.
The halls are quiet, but suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Something supernatural is in the vicinity. Vampire?
My hand instinctively goes to the knife hidden at my waist. I look up, expecting to find a vamp trying to feed off a sickly patient, but all I see are two teenagers in deep conversation. They’re pretty. One is a short, curvaceous girl with blonde hair past her shoulders; the other wears scrubs and is nearly as tall as me. Her short black hair looks like she’s ran her hands through it one too many times. Neither of them scream vampire. Weird.
The blonde glances up as we pass by. My gut clenches with anticipation before she meets my eyes, and I’m positive that hers will be black. But when our eyes lock, hers are green, and sparkle with curiosity. I look away. Green is normal, so why does something about her seem off? I tighten my grip on Chloe’s shoulder, keeping her close.
I consider making a second pass down the hall, but I’m worried about Chloe if a fight breaks out. The choice is made for me when the nurse ushers us into Rachel’s room. On the bed, my sister is almost unrecognizable she’s so bruised and swollen. I silently promise myself that whichever monster did this will pay.
Anger surges. Anger at my stupid sister, and anger at the universe that these monsters even exist. Our job shouldn’t be necessary.
“She was picked up by the police in an area they’ve been patrolling for druggies. Apparently, the people she scuffled with got away.” The nurse picks up a clipboard hanging on the end of the bed, glances at it, puts it back. “Her vitals are good. She looks worse than she actually is.”
Chloe quietly takes an empty chair in the corner. Smart girl, to get out of the way. I step to Rachel’s bed and speak in a low voice. “What were you thinking?”
Rachel opens her mouth, but I interrupt her.
“Do you have a death wish, is that it?”
I can’t help raising my voice as my anger finally finds expression. I’m aware that the nurse steps out into the hall and returns with a second person.
Rachel tries to say something, but her words are lost in a string of gibberish. Did she suffer brain damage?
Cassie’s head had been bashed in when I found her. I blink the memory-image away and ball my hands into fists, fighting the urge to smash something. “You had no business going there, what were you thinking? Seriously, Rach, I don’t understand.”
“I didn’t know–”
“That’s no excuse!”
“Hey, I don’t think yelling is necessary.” A commanding female voice says from the doorway.
I whirl around, ready to tell someone off, but I’m stunned into silence. It’s the blonde from the hallway, but this time I know what’s wrong with her. She looks completely the same right down to her green eyes, but this time alarms buzz inside my head. Blondie’s a vamp.
As if to confirm it, the nurse stands awkwardly off to one side, pretending to be interested in Rachel’s monitors. Blondie makes her uncomfortable. Classic.
My hand itches to pull out my knife and hurl into her heart, but there are too many witnesses and I have to think about taking care of Rachel and Chloe.
“Go away. This isn’t your business.” It takes everything in me to grit the words through my teeth.
“It is my business if this girl,” she consults the piece of paper in her hand, “Rachel, is being neglected by her guardian. I’m assuming that’s you.” The downward twist of her lips lets me know exactly what she thinks of me. Not that I care. “How old are you anyway, twenty?”
Um, no. Eighteen. I stay silent. We have a nonverbal contest of wills, me telling her to get the heck outta here and her telling me… something. I can’t get a good read on her.
“Look, the hospital has to file a report when a minor comes in beat up like this. Social Services is probably going to get involved. I’d like to help Rachel, if I can.”
Heck, no.
“Look, I don’t care who you are, I’m taking my sister out of here. Right. Now.”
A burly policeman steps into the room behind Blondie. He skirts around the petite girl like she’s venomous. Oh, wait, she is. “She’s not going anywhere. Got a dead body in an alley near where your sister was picked up. She’s in police custody until we clear a few things up.”
Oh, this just keeps getting better and better.
3 - Shane
The first rays of sunlight stream through the window where I’ve pulled the blind open. Finally. We might just have a chance to make it out of here.
I flinch at a noise from down the hall, my back aching from the stance I’ve maintained all night, propped against the wall just inside the door to Rachel’s room. I can’t let my guard down for a second, not with a vampire running loose.
Rach stirs on the bed, and it’s hard to look at her and not think about Cassidy. Our middle sister had been in a hospital bed with IVs and machines hooked up to her too. The doctors had worked day and night to try and save her. And in the end, nothing they’d done had mattered.
I can’t let Rach end up like that.
She moans. Is she waking? I know how pain meds can disorient you, and for a Chaser that’s a scary thing. Her eyes fly open, and I see real fear in them.
I put a finger to my lips before she makes any noise, jerking my chin toward Chloe’s sleeping form, hunched in the single re
cliner in the corner. She’s slept like the dead pretty much ever since we got here. I’m glad of it, but it worries me too. She should be more aware of her surroundings if I’ve taught her right.
“Where’s the vamp?” Rachel whispers, her voice rough with sleep and pain.
I shrug and keep my voice low. “I haven’t left the room.”
She flicks a glance at Chloe. We both know Chloe can’t be left on her own, not with a vamp nearby. She’s too irresistible, as we’ve found out. I’m a little surprised the vamp hasn’t shown back up all night. Rach frowns. “I could’ve–”
“While you were asleep?”
Emotion flickers across her face. It makes me want to soften my tone, but I resist. Softness, kindness, that’s the kind of stuff that gets Chasers killed. Tough is the only way to be. It’s one of the only things of value my father taught me.
Rachel’s lips tighten and I see the familiar anger surge before she tamps it down. “Shane, I would’ve had those vamps if the cops hadn’t interfered.”
I don’t respond to that; it doesn’t matter. “Can you walk?”
Her eyes darken, but we don’t have time for more discussion or even worse—female tears.
“The cop stepped out a little bit ago. And it’s daylight now.” So all we have to do is get outside, and we’ll be home free.
“But–”
“I don’t need you to argue with me, Rachel Marie.” I put all my authority into the command. “I need you to obey me. You’ve already compromised our position in this area, and I don’t have time to deal with another of your stunts right now.”
“Why do you guys always have to fight?” Chloe demands out of nowhere, bolting to her feet and racing out of the room.
She’s fast, and she’s through the door before I can grab her. I glare at Rachel and step into the hallway. I can’t see her, and my spine tingles—something’s wrong.
“Chloe!”
If Blondie’s on the prowl… I don’t even want to think it, but if she’s inside away from the sun it won’t stop her from vamping out and attacking someone. Someone like my little sister.
There’s movement up the hallway, nurses rushing around and people dodging into rooms. Two women in scrubs scurry past me having a rushed conversation, but I catch the two words: “druggie” and “grabbed”.
Alliance Page 2