by D McEntire
Bri had to blink her eyes into focus.
"Little sister, how do you like my humble abode?" Trevor asked, while turning in a circle, his hands out to encompass the rundown shack. After one complete turn, his cold eyes focused on her. "This is what I have had to endure, thanks to you and father."
The tone he used when he had uttered the word "father" was not lost on Bri. She heard it loud and clear. But, it didn't surprise her. Trevor's hatred of Roland had been building for years before it erupted, and he had done what he obviously had thought of doing for quite some time.
Bri wanted to scream at him. She wanted to ask why he brought her here, but the thick piece of leather shoved into her mouth, and the tight strap around her head to keep it in place, kept her from uttering a single coherent word. To keep her from biting through he had forced her fangs, which instinctively elongated from fear and anger, to protrude over the top of the leather. She had to continuously fight down nausea from the foul taste of the leather; its sharp tang and filth permeated her taste buds.
He mercilessly pulled her forward and into the shack, then slammed what remained of the door behind him.
Sitting on the dirty, dusty floor, she watched Trevor's every move, anticipating a strike at any time. He had become utterly cruel even before he killed their father. She knew he was downright insane -- mad beyond reason. She also knew the fact she was his sister would not save her from harm.
Eying Trevor as he ranted and talked animatedly to himself while pacing the floor, her mind reeled from the situation. Her chaotic thoughts kept her from understanding most of what he was saying.
Bri used Trevor's distraction to slowly work her bonds. Trevor had never been good at manly skills, such as how to properly tie a knot. He thought himself too high of stature to care about such things. That, she thought to herself, would be his first mistake.
Suddenly, Trevor stopped, and Bri's heart stopped as well. She prayed he had not noticed her fidgeting. Cocking his head to the side as if listening, a smile crossed his face. The sight of it caused a shiver to run through her body as if ice water had coursed through her veins.
Trevor turned to her. "Ah, your human pet has arrived, and it seems he brought a guest." Shaking his head in mock disgust, he said, "Seems my new guide has failed." Trevor released a rather audible feigned sigh. "No matter."
Tapping his finger to his chin as if in contemplation, he laughed softly. "Hmm. I can't decide whether to let you watch him die and then use the man with him to return me to New York, or have your little pet guide me in return for your life. Perhaps I'll take the other human along for a snack on the long journey."
Bri's eyes widened in shock. Her brother was truly mad. Panic rose in her chest, and she couldn't calm the frantic beating of her heart. Brody. He had come for her, risking his life to save hers. She couldn't let Trevor hurt him, her mind screamed. Watching her brother kill the man with whom she had fallen in love would be more than she could bear.
She continued to slowly work her bonds as she searched the room for something, anything, to use as a weapon against her brother.
Movement from Trevor caught her attention. Bri returned her focus to him and found him approaching. She tensed.
A glint of metal shone at his side moments before Trevor held up an object. In horror, she recognized the item from books on humans and medical treatments used by their physicians. This one in particular she knew to be one used on teeth.
* * * *
Brody dismounted his horse and eyed the rundown ranch house sitting several hundred yards in front of him. The wind kicked up, causing dirt from the barren ground to whirl like miniature tornadoes.
Before he and Trace had left town they'd hauled Branson off to the pokey for his part in Bri's kidnapping, as well as the attempt on Brody's life. After some not so gentle persuading, they managed to get the man to flap his gums. Branson had said he was to meet up with Bri's brother at the shack. It had only taken a moment for Brody to recall this place, but it had taken the entire night to get here. Trevor had had a head start. Brody prayed he wasn't too late to save Bri.
"Wagon beside home," Trace said in clipped English. Brody glanced at the Indian shielding his eyes from the morning sun, then turned to look at the wooden structure which lay ahead.
Facing the rear of the shack as they were, the front door was not in their line of sight. Brody leaned forward, his eyes straining to focus on the building in the distance. "Can you see anyone?" Brody knew his eyesight wasn't as keen as Trace's. Both Frank and Trace had special skills and right now, he was thankful to have his friend's son along.
Trace shook his head.
Brody couldn't tamp down the anger boiling inside at Bri's abduction. "The horses are still hooked to the wagon, so someone's got to be there. If Trevor . . ."
Trace laid a hand on his shoulder and pointed to the sky. "We go now. Not wait till night."
Brody frowned as he wondered why Trace would want to approach the house in full daylight. Normally, a body would wait for the cover of darkness and the power of surprise.
Trace gave him a look that said trust me and raised a fist to his chest.
Understanding his friend held complete confidence in his plan, he followed Trace as the Indian mounted his horse and slowly approached the shack. With every step Brody prayed his friend knew exactly what he was doing, and that if Trevor had hired guns with him they weren't lying in wait for an ambush.
* * * *
Bri blinked rapidly as Trevor stepped into her line of vision, a broad smile spread across his face. His hands, as well as the metal instrument he held, were covered in blood: her blood. Warm liquid filled her mouth and slid down her throat. She tried to swallow to keep up with the flow so she didn't choke, but it was too much. She leaned forward to let the blood seep under and around the gag to run down her chin, neck, and over the front of her dress.
She couldn't believe her brother had yanked her fangs from her mouth, a slow death sentence for a vampire. She would no longer be able to pierce the thick hide, skin, and muscle of the cattle and other animals she had planned to feed from while hiding out on the land. Lacking fangs she would slowly die of starvation, or worse -- go mad and be forced to kill to get what she needed.
Tears covered her lashes and streamed down her face. Bri had never wanted to believe her brother to be evil. Her heart had always held out hope he would see the error of his ways. Memories of them playing together as children flooded her mind, making her tears fall even more.
"Oh, come now, Sis," he said in a mocking tone. "I figured this way you will not be able to cause me any trouble during our journey. If you do decide to make our travel difficult, I won't kill you outright, I'll just leave you in a more desolate place than I left you before. Believe me when I tell you, this time you won't survive." His next words echoed in her ears. "Then again, your human may no longer want what he sees."
Trevor held up the instrument. He worked his hand causing it to make a clicking sound as the pointed ends engaged then retracted to emphasize his point.
Bri's heart sank. Trevor was probably right. Her beautiful smile now held two empty spaces. She would never be able to smile again. Surely, Brody would not want to look upon her now.
Trevor turned away from her and listened again. "Ah, they're not too far away now."
Bri felt her strength wane, though the blood from her gums had finally slowed to a trickle. With the gag so tight she was unable to slide her tongue over the two holes to stop the bleeding completely.
Thoughts of Brody stayed in her mind and in her heart. He didn't deserve to get caught up in this. Trevor was her brother. His actions were her responsibility. Even if it meant her own death, she had to do something. At least it wouldn't be in vain, she told herself.
Trevor headed for the door. He kept his body to the side, well away from the beams of light shining through cracks in the wood.
Gathering all her strength and using the hurt and anger at her brother's actions t
o spur her on, Bri yanked her hands free of their loosened bonds, sprung from the floor and flew at Trevor, shoving him forward with such force the door splintered into several pieces as he sailed through it, and into the sunlight.
Trevor whirled around and flailed his arms about as he howled in pain. Smoke and the acrid smell of burning flesh filled the air. This was the last Bri knew as she pushed herself away from the door, and then fell to the floor where darkness sucked her into its depths.
* * * *
Sounds reached Brody's ears: screams of pure agony. Panic hit him square in the chest. "Bri!" he yelled, spurring his horse at a dead run towards the shack. At this point, he didn't care who was inside. His only thoughts were of Bri.
Yanking the reins of his mount and bringing the horse to a sudden stop, he leapt from the saddle, not bothering to tether the animal and not paying attention to Trace on his heels. Skirting to the front of the shack, the first thing Brody noticed was that the entrance to the shack lacked a door, and pieces of wood lay scattered about in the dirt. His heart pounded in his ears. He shook from the inside out from fear of what he would find inside.
Gun held out in front of him, Brody stepped over several pieces of the door and braced himself at the side of the doorway. Easing forward, he peered inside.
The sunlight illuminated particles of dirt and dust, floating in the air from where they had obviously been disturbed by the exploding door. Through the curtain of dust, Brody scanned the inside before catching sight of Bri laying face down on the floor.
"Bri!"
Rushing inside, Brody sank to the floor beside her. He turned her over to lie on her back. Brody sucked in a breath when he discovered the front of her dress drenched in blood. Blood also smeared her face and hair.
Brody quickly removed the crude gag covering her mouth.
"Oh, dear Lord, Bri." With a gentle hand, he patted her cheeks while calling her name, trying to get her to open her eyes.
Lifting her top lip, Brody searched for the source of the blood, praying her brother had not done something so heinous as to cut out her tongue. He'd heard tales of raiding Indians who had done that very thing to settlers and travelers unfortunate enough to cross their path.
Seeing the pink of her tongue gave him a moment of relief until he noticed the hole in her gums where one of her teeth had been. Leaning to the other side, he found the same there. Her brother had obviously pulled her teeth, but why?
"She will die." Trace's words sliced through Brody like a knife. Stunned, he stiffened and looked at the brave.
"What?"
"She will die." Trace repeated his words in the same flat, no-nonsense tone the brave used the first time.
Brody's panic grew even more, and so did his rage at Trevor for what her brother had done to her. Now, it was directed at Trace for his quick dismissal. No. "She won't!" His mind forced his denial through his mouth. It came out hoarse and sharp.
Trace spoke again. "She cannot feed." Brody watched him crook his fingers in the sign of a snake's fangs.
Vampire.
Brody understood now what his friend was trying to tell him, and he knew in his heart the possibility existed. Bri was a vampire. Her fangs, the lifeline for her species, were gone. Taken from her by her sick-minded brother. Without someone to take care of her, she would not survive.
Trace sighed long and loud, though Brody noticed the brave's eyes had softened as he shook his head. "I look for him." With that, the Indian walked out the door.
Brody's heart felt as though it slowly broke apart piece by piece. The unthinkable had happened; he'd found a woman who had touched him deeply -- physically and within his soul as well. Even though she wasn't human, Brody found being around Bri felt so right. He only now realized affliction or vampire didn't matter as long as he didn't lose her.
With an arm under her shoulders and one under her knees, he lifted her close to his chest, then settled in a dark, cool corner, keeping her as far from the rays of light shining through the broken doorway and cracks in the old wood of the walls as possible.
Brody sank to the floor, cradling Bri in his arms. He spoke to her, holding back the tears threatening to fall. The blood on her dress and face tore at his heart. He tried to wipe the drying red liquid from her cheeks, but only caused it to smear.
A sudden wave of resolve crashed over him. Brody leaned to the side and pulled his knife from his boot. Gritting his teeth, he sliced deeply into his forearm, not caring about the risk of infection. He knew what needed to be done and didn't think twice about doing it.
Propping Bri against his chest, he gently parted her lips and pressed his bleeding arm to her mouth. "Come on, Bri. Don't you leave me."
After several minutes of coaxing, his prayers were answered. A warm, wet tongue slid across his arm followed by weak suction against his skin which grew stronger with each passing minute.
"That's it, darlin', drink. Everythin's gonna be okay." Brody stroked her hair then kissed the top of her head as she drank from his arm. Her soft hands lifted and held his skin to her mouth while his blood brought life into her body. He could tell it worked by the color seeping back into her pale face.
Footsteps scraped outside the door. In one swift move, Brody leveled his gun at the doorway, then quickly lowered it when Trace came into view.
"You see anythin'? Is he dead?"
Trace shook his head. "Saw no one."
Brody returned his focus on Bri, ignoring the disapproving stare he could feel from Trace.
Bri's eyelids fluttered once, twice, and then slowly opened. It took a moment before the haze he saw in them disappeared, but in the next heartbeat they sprung wide as plates. She flung his arm away, and her hands flew to her mouth.
* * * *
Bri felt as though in a fog, unable to make out where she was. Cold enveloped her until warmth touched her face and the smell of sweet blood entered her nostrils. Without thought, her lips opened to taste what was causing her body to stir.
Liquid streamed over her tongue. She felt herself alive and wanted more. She savored the taste like a fine wine. Pressing her lips further into the warm skin, her body called out for more until her mind began to register what was happening. The heaviness of her eyelids seemed to ease. Bri forced them open, only to face the horror of what she was doing.
Bri shook her head in denial. "No. Oh, sweet Mary, no!" She tried to scramble off of Brody's lap, but he refused to let her go.
"Bri. Hush now. It's alright." Brody's voice rolled over her like velvet, but it did not soothe the anguish at the fact she had been feeding from him. Had she attacked him?
Bri looked from Brody to Trace before returning her gaze to Brody. No doubt they thought her a monster.
Her teeth. Her fangs were gone, leaving empty holes. How hideous she must look.
Suddenly, her thoughts turned from horror to panic -- Trevor. Her heart stopped as she glanced around the room before she focused on the doorway behind Trace.
"Is he dead?" she asked in barely a whisper, almost afraid to hear the answer.
"Don't know. Trace didn't find nothin'," Brody answered just as softly.
Bri squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. "He has to be dead. I pushed him out into the sun." She felt Brody gather her tight, and she couldn't stop herself from leaning into his chest.
"Everythin's gonna be alright, Bri. If he is not dead, he won't get near you ever again. I promise you that."
Trace cleared his throat then spoke. "I hunt meat." Bri sensed the Indian's unease at the scene before him, as, without another word the brave was out the door.
Bri glanced at Brody's arm where she had been feeding, thankful to find the flow of blood had slowed to a lazy trickle.
"Do you need more?" He asked, slowly bringing his arm toward her face.
Bri shook her head and gently pushed his arm away. She couldn't believe this was happening. Brody not only placed his life in danger to save her, he offered his blood.
"No. I thin
k I'm okay now." She looked at his face, then his eyes. The green depths stared at her, swirling with concern. "You came for me. I thought I had lost you after you found out the truth about me."
* * * *
Brody heard the hitch in her voice and cursed himself for being such a fool. He had no doubt he had hurt her with his rejection at the hotel. In his own defense, he had been caught off-guard, floored by the revelation.
But, another thing sent him running scared. From the time he had realized he'd fallen in love with her he'd known he could not have her out of fear he would not be able to take care of her. Her raising had been different than the women who lived in this place. The affliction she'd told him she had with the sun had also meant she needed special care.
Now he knew none of those things meant a hill of beans. He had come to that conclusion while packing her belongings. He loved her regardless of who or what she was, and he was not letting her go.
"Bri, I'm right sorry for bein' clod-skulled. You ain't lost me, and never will. Come back to the ranch with me. We'll make it work, I promise."
He watched the emotions play across her face: fear, doubt. After a moment a light lit in her eyes. She smiled, but kept her mouth closed and nodded.
Brody felt a weight lift off his chest. He silently vowed to give everything he had to make this work. Already the wheels in his head turned. He had men to help at the ranch. He would be able to spend time with her during the evening hours, and though he would be rising later in the morning than a working man should, his ranch -- the one his father had worked so hard to build and maintain -- would not suffer.
EPILOGUE
Trace dismounted and tethered his horse to the post outside of the Post Office in Fort Worth, Texas. His legs ached from the long ride. He and his father, Frank, were returning from Kansas where they had delivered the longhorns to the white man. Before they left he'd watched them push the beasts into corrals on the iron horse.