Caught in Darkness

by Rose Wulf

  Her stomach did a strange little flip at that idea, but she wasn’t entirely sure it counted as pure nausea (not that that made any sense). They hadn’t really discussed vampire eating habits aside from the basics: they drank blood to survive and they didn’t need to drain a human to satisfy themselves. Beyond that she was still assuming. Did they need to drink more when they were weaker? That certainly seemed to be the most relevant question, but she wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.

  The car eased to a stop, jarring Veronica from her thoughts and letting her know that they’d arrived at her house. She glanced sidelong at Seth as they reached for their seatbelts, but he didn’t seem to be moving slower or more carefully than usual. Oh, he’s good.

  Seth fell back as they approached the front door, allowing her to lead the way inside. When she was standing in the entry, holding the door wide open, she gestured toward the couch and declared, “Make yourself comfortable.”

  He nodded and moved past her, and as he walked she studied his stride. She couldn’t seem to find anything wrong with that, either. Though she might possibly have been distracted when her eyes lingered below his waist. Shaking her head at herself, Veronica shut and locked her door out of reflex before following him to the living room. He was already sitting on one side of the couch, one arm propped on the arm of the sofa and legs stretched out. It was hard to ignore how good he looked sitting there, but the large spot of what had to be blood on his shirt did a lot to help her focus.

  Their gazes locked for a second (he’d taken his sunglasses off in his car), and she took a deep breath before saying, “All right, lose the shirt.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, seemingly surprised by her demand, but pushed back to his feet obligingly. Using both hands he grabbed the hem of his stained black t-shirt and lifted it over his head fluidly. As his arms fell back to his sides he balled the shirt up in one fist, holding on to it. “Care to tell me why I’m undressing?” he asked, trace amounts of teasing in his voice.

  Veronica swallowed heavily at the sight before her. She had been able to tell—through his tight shirts—that his muscles were Hollywood-perfect, but seeing them in action as he’d moved was a whole other thing. His chest was just as lightly-tanned as the rest of him, with not a spot of hair to be found, and it made her mouth water. She wanted to run her fingers around each contour—and, if she were being honest, she wholly intended to follow that trail with her lips and tongue if she ever got the chance.

  It was an effort to remember his question, and her gaze lifted back to his for a moment as heat rushed to her cheeks. His eyes, in fact, his entire expression, were lightened with laughter. Though whether he was enjoying her embarrassment or her distraction remained to be seen. Still, she found her voice and replied, “I’m going to make my own opinion of whether or not you’re ‘fine’.”

  Her eyes had dropped back to his chest—supposedly looking for the hole that she already knew wasn’t there—when his resulting chuckle reached her ears and it occurred to her how else her words could be interpreted. She wasn’t sure she’d blushed so badly since she’d been partnered with her high school crush for a project in her sophomore year. Clearing her throat she attempted to contort her face into a glare as she said, “You know what I meant!”

  Seth swallowed the rest of his laughter and lifted his free hand, his index finger lightly prodding the blemished circle of skin where the stake had once been, and he asked, “What’s your verdict, then, Dr. Wyndham?”

  Veronica sobered, her flush fading, and stepped closer to get a better look. The skin was red and looked sore, and it was obvious that he was being careful to touch it lightly. But it was also whole—lending credence to his insistence that he was all right. Her voice was soft when she asked, “Does it hurt?”

  “To the touch, yes,” Seth replied honestly. “And it would probably feel like it was pulling too tight if I tried to lift anything. But that should all fade in a couple of hours.”

  “Wow,” Veronica breathed, one hand reaching out without thought and letting her fingertips trail just around the wound. “You were right, you do heal faster than me.”

  “Veronica,” Seth murmured, his voice almost a groan.

  She froze, her body warming at the tone of his voice, and lifted her gaze up to his. He was watching her with a poorly-concealed, heated look in his eyes. Her own eyes darted back down, to her hand, and she was blushing all over again as she snatched it back. “Oh! I’m so sorry!”

  “Don’t apologize,” Seth grunted, reaching out and snatching her nearest wrist with his free hand. He tugged her forward, against his chest, and bowed his head until their noses were touching before adding, “You just need to be careful with what you do around me.”

  Before she could respond to his words, her lips were against his and she was moaning into his mouth. He released her wrist in favor of wrapping his arm around her waist and hauling her closer, so she snaked her arms up and around his neck. She had barely laced her fingers through his hair before his tongue was in her mouth and dancing with hers for the first time in far too long.

  She felt like she was on fire as they kissed, her knees very nearly buckling as her body begged for him to touch her—kiss her—everywhere. She couldn’t think clearly as he rolled his tongue along hers, his hand clamped firmly over her opposite hip and his bare chest pressed against her covered one. Her clothes were too constricting and his were too concealing and if he made love like he kissed she would never even be able to look at another man. She desperately wanted to find out.

  But then it was over and Seth had pulled away, leaving her standing alone in front of her couch. Her mind was slow to catch up to the disappointing new reality and she barely turned around in time to see him—shirt back in place—reaching for the door. “Wait,” she called, trying to ignore the stinging in her chest. “Seth.”

  He stopped, arm falling back to his side, but didn’t turn around. “This is a bad idea. You know it as well as I do.”

  “Bad ideas are all relative,” Veronica argued.

  His shoulders slumped as if he had sighed, though she didn’t hear anything, and he said, “Veronica, think about it. I’m a vampire. I’m immortal; I’m damned hard to kill; I have a dangerous job that’s earned me my share of enemies; and, right now, I’m hungry. That’s what happens when we get hurt. We get weaker, especially if we lose any blood, and we need to feed.”

  Not sure what to reply to first, Veronica asked, “What are you saying? That I’m not strong enough for you? That I’m not intelligent enough to understand what this is and what it could never be?”

  This time she did hear the sigh and he turned half around, enough to look at her, as he said, “No. You’re plenty strong enough, in every way. What I’m saying is that, eventually, you’d regret it. And, in the meantime, I would probably bite you. That’s why I can’t stay.”

  It took her just long enough to figure out her response to that for him to turn again and pull the door open, but when she called out for him she couldn’t make her feet move. “Seth!”

  “I’ll see you later, Veronica. Stay safe,” he called back without breaking stride. He pulled the door shut behind him and then he was gone.

  ****

  “That was too close,” Richards growled as he, Tobias, and Troy settled in Troy’s apartment. It was a temporary place to rest, of course, since the entire Family was hunting them; the sun was just too bright out that day for them to keep moving.

  “Tell me about it,” Troy exclaimed as he sank into his old sofa. His head was back, eyes closed, as he focused on regulating his breathing.

  Tobias settled on the couch beside his brother, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as he suggested, “Maybe it’s time to cut our losses and leave town. It’s getting awfully dangerous out there.”

  Richards cut a glare at him from the chair he’d claimed and declared, “Absolutely not! We’re not leaving town until that fucking bitch is dead.”

  Troy lifted
his head, staring aghast at Richards, and said, “But there’s a Slayer in town now! Do you want to die?”

  Richards scoffed, shifting his glare to the other brother. “Don’t be an idiot, Wilson. Having a Slayer in town doesn’t mean we’re going to die, it just means we have to play a little more cautiously.”

  Keeping his tone even, Tobias asked, “And what’s cautious about throwing our original plans to the wind in favor of stalking and slaughtering one pointless human?”

  “That ‘pointless human’ ruined our original plans!” Richards exclaimed angrily, hands curling into fists. “Everything was in place until she fucked it up! And she didn’t even get the hint!”

  “Yeah,” Troy began carefully, “but—”

  “No buts!” Richards interrupted, angrily rising to his feet. “If you two cowards don’t like it, then bail; I don’t care. But I’m not leaving this rotten city until I’ve bled that bitch dry.”

  Troy stared, wide-eyed, at Richards for a long moment before looking over at his brother.

  Tobias was watching Richards, his expression unreadable, until he slowly nodded his head. “All right. I said I was on board, so let’s do it.”

  “I hate to point this out,” Troy hedged, “but…won’t they look for us here?”

  Scoffing again, Richards rolled his eyes and replied, “We won’t be here by nightfall, moron. We’re just catching our breath.”

  ****

  Veronica spent most of Monday the way she had spent the rest of her Sunday—lost in thought. Seth’s parting words were still ringing in her head and she was constantly going up and down with her reactions. She didn’t care that he was immortal, and she understood that anything that happened between them couldn’t be anything more than a fling. But she was starting to worry that she wouldn’t be satisfied with that. The idea of him walking out of her life—which she knew was inevitable—was heartbreakingly unbearable. A sharp, stabbing pain seared her heart at the very thought.

  But that wasn’t really what was holding her attention so thoroughly. It was the biting thing. As soon as he’d said it a strange sort of excited anticipation had bubbled up inside of her. She’d been rather thrown off when she identified the feeling, and she’d spent hours arguing with herself over how she should and should not feel. Of course she should be horrified and sick to the stomach over the idea of someone—anyone—drinking her blood. Only…she wasn’t. Some deep, primal, twisted part of her actually wanted to know what it was like.

  Not to mention, when he’s hurt, he could come to me for rejuvenation. That thought got her every time.

  She was still giving far too much thought to everything that wasn’t really happening between them when her phone rang late that afternoon, and she was so distracted that she forgot to look at the Caller ID before answering.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” Carol greeted on the other end of the line.

  Her mother’s unexpected voice snapped her straight out of her thoughts, even bringing a level of guilt to the surface, as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “Hey, Mom.” They’d only spoken once since Friday, over the phone, but it had been a good talk.

  “How are you doing?” Carol asked.

  That’s an amazing question. “I’m doing all right.” If you don’t count that I think I’m falling in love with a vampire I really haven’t known long enough to feel like this toward.

  “That’s good.” Carol paused, and for the first time Veronica became suspicious. She was suddenly thinking there was an alternative reason for her mother’s call. Carol sighed audibly, then, and said, “I hate to ask this of you, Veronica, but could you come over? It’s important.”

  “What’s going on?” Veronica asked, alarm bells blaring in her head. Her first thought was that maybe her mother was trying to set her up with Cliff again—and how awkward would that be? But then there was something about the way her mother had phrased the request that made it sound…different. And suddenly she was worried as all sorts of gruesome, terrifying images filled her mind. “You know what?” she added quickly, “It doesn’t matter. I’ll be right over.”

  Relief in her voice, Carol said, “Oh, thank you. I’m so sorry if I’m interrupting anything.”

  “You’re not, don’t worry,” Veronica replied brightly. “See you soon.” That was the one thing she’d actually been productive with that day, at least. She’d finally gotten her replacement license and no longer had to rely on other people or public transportation.

  ****

  There was an unfamiliar vehicle in her mother’s driveway when Veronica pulled in a short while later and she frowned. She’d never seen Cliff’s car, but her gut told her that he didn’t drive an old, banged up Chevy pickup. Definitely not Cliff, then. And as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t bring herself to feel relieved. At least the Cliff situation she could figure out how to handle; whatever was going to happen inside that house, however, she wasn’t sure.

  She checked her purse for the third time, to be absolutely certain that her pepper-spray hadn’t mysteriously disappeared, and returned her cell to her pocket before climbing from her car. Not for the first time since her mother’s call did she debate the wisdom of not calling Seth. But she didn’t want to assume it was trouble when it could be any number of things, and she didn’t want her mother to ask the questions she would definitely ask if she laid eyes on Seth. For one thing, she had no idea how to answer those questions.

  Releasing a deep sigh, she stepped into her mother’s house, eased the door shut and called, “Mom? I’m here.”

  The sound of padded footsteps echoed down the hall a moment before Carol replied, “Oh, you made excellent time!” She was standing in the archway between the foyer and the hall by the time the words were out of her mouth, a smile on her face but an odd weight dimming her eyes.

  Despite the look on her face, Veronica felt a twinge of relief as soon as she saw her mother. Carol was standing straight, without any effort, and there were no traces of fear in her expression. That was an excellent sign. Hoping her smile wasn’t too obviously relief-based, Veronica moved toward her mother and gave her a quick hug, saying, “I was able to come right over, that’s all.” When she pulled back, arms falling back to her side, she asked, “What’s going on?”

  At her question her mother’s smile fell and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth in an uncharacteristic nervous gesture, casting a glance down the hall before quietly declaring, “Actually, there’s someone here that you should meet.”

  Confusion and concern vying for dominance in her stomach, Veronica said, “I saw a truck I didn’t recognize.” Her voice lowered to a whisper before she continued, “But you don’t seem too eager; is everything all right? Should I call the cops?”

  Carol looked back at her and shook her head. “No, sweetheart, that’s not necessary. It’s just…unexpected. And there’s really no way to explain it without spoiling the surprise, but…we’ve got family in town.”

  Veronica’s eyes widened in shock. Family? That was impossible. Her maternal grandparents—the only family left on her mother’s side—had passed a couple of years before. And her father had been disowned from the rest of his family long before she’d ever been born, because they’d disapproved of her mother—then his fiancé. She didn’t even know any of their names, other than the surname he’d had before he’d decided to take Carol’s when they were married.

  “I don’t understand,” Veronica said carefully. “We don’t have other family.”

  Carol sighed softly and turned toward the hall, reaching for her hand as she moved, and said quietly, “I don’t entirely disagree. But he swears he’s been looking for us for years, and I can’t not hear him out. He’s asked to meet you.”

  Veronica let her mother guide her down the hall as she tried to gather her thoughts. Obviously whoever belonged to that beaten up truck was someone from her father’s former family, but she couldn’t decide exactly how she felt about that. Other than angry, at leas
t. They had cast him out when he was twenty-five (the same age she was now, ironically enough), and so far as she knew they had never attempted to reach out and reconcile with him. He’d been so angry with them that he’d even taken his wife’s name and he’d never spoken a word of his family other than to explain why he didn’t talk about them. What right do any of them have to try to make amends now, so many years after his death?

  When they reached the living room Carol stopped, gave Veronica’s hand a squeeze, and gestured toward the man standing at the far window. He was taller than them, though a little shy of six feet, and had faded, dirty blonde hair with a noticeable sprinkling of silver. He was wearing clean denim jeans and what she suspected was a new maroon t-shirt. His arms were crossed over his chest, because Veronica couldn’t see them from her angle, and he stood straight and still.

  “Veronica,” Carol began, raising her voice to get the man’s attention, “meet your uncle, Dennis Claypool. Your father was his older brother.”

  As she spoke, Dennis turned, a friendly smile already lifting his face.

  His smile faltered in the same instant that Veronica’s eyes widened once again, her blood running cold with recognition. For a long instant she was frozen, her body locked in place as myriad reactions tore through her. She didn’t know whether she should play dumb, or pretend to stay calm, or erupt in anger and start yelling. The only thing she did know was that she couldn’t walk away and leave her mother stranded with a killer. And how in the world did she end up with the rotten luck of having a Slayer for an uncle?

  Dennis recovered first, his smile returning as he strode forward and held out his hand as if he hadn’t tried to kill her barely twenty-four hours previously. “Veronica,” he began pointedly, “it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

  There were so many scathing things she wanted to say to him in that moment, but her mother was present, so she bit her tongue and let him shake her hand. And instead of lighting into him over the way he’d gone after her and killed three seemingly good vampires, she said, “So Dad was your brother. Is that supposed to mean something to me?”