Destined For a Vampire

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Destined For a Vampire Page 7

by M. Leighton


  Just like he’d promised, Bo wasn’t far.

  I don’t know why he chose that day to take such a chance. It was like he knew how desperately I needed him—to see him, even if it was only a hint of him—

  and he’d risked exposure to show me that he was thinking of me, that he needed to be close to me, too. Or maybe he’d felt the growing distance between us as well. I had no way of knowing.

  A relief so profound it nearly brought me to tears washed over me, and I felt the renewal of our bond pouring through my veins. That one moment in time, that one instant, was enough to keep me going for a little while longer. For now, it was enough.

  Carried on the wings of Bo’s visit for the rest of the day, I felt bullet-proof, like nothing could bring me down. That’s why later, I decided that I’d pay Lucius a visit. I needed to talk to someone about what I’d learned at Bo’s house, as well as the translation I’d found at Sebastian’s.

  Thinking of Sebastian made me wonder again, uneasily, about the time I’d lost there. I had no idea what to make of it and I was hesitant to mention it to anyone. A tiny seed of fear had begun to take root deep inside my mind, a kernel of dread that I might be starting to experience the effects of Bo drinking from me.

  What if blacking out was the first step to losing your mind? The first step to what the authorities were mistakenly labeling Mad Cow Disease?

  Pushing the disturbing ruminations aside, I brought my focus back to Bo and his visit. Though thinking of him did make me feel better, acknowledging my concerns about my health had still managed to dampen my spirits in a way that not even my prior elation could fix.

  At home, I unlocked the door and went to change clothes before heading to the forest to see Lucius. Looking at the sparse selection in my closet made me realize that I needed to do some laundry, and what better time than on a Friday night?

  “That’s right, girls of the world. I lead the most enviable life imaginable,” I said aloud to the empty bathroom as I separated colored clothes from white.

  My words echoed flatly back to me, bouncing off the walls of the tiny room.

  It was then that I noticed that the other bathroom door, the one that adjoined Izzy’s room, was closed, making the already small room seem claustrophobic.

  As I straightened, unease raised the hairs at my nape. Walking quietly, cautiously, to that door, I grabbed the knob and twisted it slowly. When I pushed it open, I reached out with all my senses for anything amiss.

  Everything seemed exactly the same as it always did. It still smelled vaguely of Izzy and, as I made my way around the room, I didn’t see where anything appeared to be missing.

  I let my fingers trail along the edge of the jewelry box and the decorative tops of the perfume bottles that dotted the surface of the vanity. I ran my hand over the silky comforter that covered the bed and I ruffled the curtains as I passed. When I got to the bookshelf that sat in one corner, I mentally cataloged every item I knew to have a place there. Nothing was gone.

  I turned to head back to the bathroom when something struck me. I stepped back to the bookshelf and examined a silver-framed picture. It showed me and Izzy at the beach, posing in our bathing suits when we were about six or seven years old.

  I smiled as I took in Izzy’s cheeky grin and her sparkling eyes and chestnut hair, so different from my own nearly-black hair and equally dark eyes. But then I saw the fingerprint smudge that marred the perfect sheen of the frame.

  I didn’t need to wonder if it was already there. I knew it wasn’t. It had been left recently. Someone had picked it up to look at it and then set it back down a little to the left of where it normally sat. I could see a blank space in the dust from where the picture usually was.

  Who would go into Izzy’s room? Everyone in my family knew that nothing was to be touched. Ever. Whoever it was didn’t belong there, didn’t know the rules.

  And they’d gone through my room to get in, because they’d closed the bathroom door behind them.

  A chill ran through me. I thought of the woman who’d attacked me the other night. Had she been in my house since then? Could it have been her? Who was she? What did she want with me? And my sister?

  Taking one last look around the room, I went back for my laundry and headed to the washer, my thoughts still on Izzy.

  As sisters, we’d been close, had always gotten along pretty well, which just made it that much harder when she was gone. Izzy had always been a bright spot.

  She laughed a lot, as did I. It was something that I missed terribly.

  I smiled as I remembered that she couldn’t even stop laughing long enough to record a serious outgoing voice mail message on her cell phone. She’d done well up to the very end, when she’d punctuated her greeting with a giggle.

  With a sigh, I wished once more that they’d been able to find her cell phone.

  No one had seen it since the accident. To this day, I’d give anything to have it, to have some way to hear her voice again, to hear her laugh.

  Shaking off my morose reflections, I set my basket down in front of the washer and opened it to put my clothes in. The smell of stale alcohol nearly knocked me down. Already in the washer were some pajamas and sheets. Apparently Mom had gotten sick in bed last night.

  She had been in her room when I got home, so I assumed that she was sleeping off a doozy. The doozy part was right, if the smell of vodka was any indication. She must’ve vomited at least eighty proof.

  With a sigh, I washed her stuff first. There was no way I was putting my clothes in with that mess.

  When I’d finished folding the last of my colored clothes, I picked out some jeans and an apricot sweater, slipped them on and left for the forest. The shorter days meant that it was nearly dark by the time I parked by the familiar sign with the graffiti on it. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was really smart to be going into the woods alone at night with someone out there prowling around looking for me. But then my need to talk to Lucius won out over my caution and I hopped out and headed for the trees.

  As I walked the vaguely familiar path, I prayed that Bo was somewhere near, watching out for me. I knew he couldn’t be everywhere at once, and I didn’t feel him, but I really hoped he hadn’t gone to do something else tonight.

  My head had begun to throb with the strain of the trip when I saw the small cabin come into view. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Sketchers thumping on the wooden boards, I mounted the steps to the porch and walked to the door to knock. I was a bit puzzled when Lucius didn’t answer right away. With his enhanced senses, I know he’d have been able to pick up on my arrival easily.

  I knocked again. Still no response.

  Stepping down off the porch, I headed around the side of the small structure to see if there was a back door. I was a little anxious about snooping around a vampire’s house without his knowledge, and even more so about doing it in the deepening dark, but I was desperate to find Lucius.

  When I’d made my way back to the front door and was still no closer to finding Lucius than when I’d arrived, I figured it was probably time to just give it up for the night. I still had to get back to my car and the longer I waited, the more dangerous the trip became. These woods were known vampire hunting grounds and I knew the risks of running into one.

  I set out across the tiny lawn that encircled the cabin then carefully began picking my way through the dark forest. I hadn’t gone far from the cabin when I heard the faintest of rustling sounds somewhere out in front of me. There was a time (when I’d had some of Bo’s blood) that I might’ve been able to see more acutely in the darkness, hear more noises in the quiet, smell fainter traces in the air, but those days were long gone. I was once more an average, un-augmented human.

  I stopped to listen, straining to hear above the sounds of the frogs and crickets. Nothing seemed out of order, so I resumed my journey, albeit a bit more quickly and cautiously.

  When I heard another noise, I stopped again to listen, but there wa
s no need.

  It was plain to me that there was something walking toward me in the woods, dry leaves crunching under foot.

  A twig snapped, and it sounded so close I jumped. My heart was pounding away at my ribs, my muscles bunched and ready for action, and I was just turning to bolt back in the direction of the cabin when I caught a familiar scent on the wind. It smelled like honeysuckle in the summertime and I knew who carried that aroma.

  “Lucius?” I whispered.

  “Oh, you’re getting better, lass,” he said from somewhere in the trees.

  “Where are you?” I was peering into the darkness, but it was no use. The moon was new and the forest was pitch black.

  “Here,” he said.

  I had no trouble seeing him when he emerged from between the trunks of two huge trees. His uber pale skin shone like alabaster in the low moonlight. And there was plenty of it to see; he was wearing a big smile and nothing else.

  My mouth dropped open and I looked quickly away.

  “Why are you naked?”

  Lucius chuckled. “I’ve been hunting. Why do you think?”

  “Oh.”

  I could feel the blood heating up my cheeks.

  “Were you looking for me?” Lucius asked, coming to stand in front of me.

  “Um, yeah,” I said, growing more uncomfortable by the minute.

  Lucius was a very attractive man and, though I had eyes only for Bo, it was still disarming to see him in such a state, especially when he was still wearing the pleasure of the hunt so blatantly. His body was strong and stiff from head to toe and everywhere in between.

  “Then let’s go,” he said, breezing past me.

  I followed Lucius back to his cabin, all the while trying to look anywhere except at his nude back side. When we reached the steps that led to his front porch, I stopped.

  “Why don’t you go in and get dressed? You can come and get me when you’re done.”

  Lucius laughed uproariously, a fact that irritated me and further stung my cheeks.

  “Oh, to see your face right now, lass, is…well, it’s priceless. You’re like an innocent angel.”

  “Alright, alright. Go put some clothes on already,” I snapped.

  I could hear Lucius chuckling long after he’d closed the door behind him.

  Less than a minute later, he re-emerged. Little had changed. His wide, blood-spattered chest was still bear and his dark red hair still hung loose, floating wildly around his face. His feet were bear, but at least now he had on a pair of faded jeans, though they were only zipped, not buttoned.

  “What?” he asked, indignation evident in his tone. “I covered all the embarrassing parts, love. Now, why don’t we put aside your ridiculous sensibilities and go inside.”

  When put like that, I felt like a prude. So, with a sigh and a roll of my eyes, I climbed the steps and made my way into the cabin.

  Rather than going to the more luxurious quarters below ground, Lucius veered toward the small above-ground kitchen.

  “So, I think I ran into some friends of yours,” he said amicably, rooting around in a cabinet to bring out a glass.

  “What? Where?”

  “Just through the trees and beyond the gorge.”

  I watched as Lucius poured Mountain Dew into the glass.

  “When?”

  “Oh, not even an hour ago.”

  A pang of apprehension twitched in my chest.

  “Did- did you speak to them or…”

  Lucius turned and walked toward me, smiling and holding out the glass.

  “You mean did I sample them for dessert?”

  The teasing gleam in his emerald eyes assured me that he did not, but I still chastised myself for pushing his violent nature to the back of my mind. It could be a fatal mistake to ever let myself forget that Lucius was first and foremost a vampire.

  Automatically, I took the proffered glass. “No, that’s not what I—”

  “Of course that’s what you meant, but never fear, lovely Ridley. I shan’t snack on your friends.”

  “Th-thank you.”

  What else could I say?

  “It’s really not advisable for them to be traipsing around in the woods, however. You know that.”

  Lucius walked to the puffy brown couch that faced the fireplace in the living room and sat down in one corner, crossing his legs and facing me.

  I thought of Summer’s brazen stupidity and I wanted to growl. “I know and, trust me, I tried to talk them out of it. They’re just…idiots.”

  “Ah, careless youth,” Lucius said, his smile distant with reminiscence. “I remember it well.”

  “It’s just that they have no idea what’s out there. And now, after everything else that’s happened, they could be in serious danger.”

  In fact, I was feeling guiltier by the second for not trying harder to get Summer to change her mind. Of course, by the time I’d been attacked, word had gotten out to the entire school about the party and there would’ve been no stopping it anyway, but still…

  The lilt of a fading Irish brogue broke into my thoughts.

  “Sit, lass, and tell me what’s on your mind.”

  I took the seat on the couch opposite Lucius and sipped my Mountain Dew while I decided where to begin. Lucius soon took the initiative and decided for me.

  “Has Bo made contact with you?”

  Though it was impossible for Lucius to know about our passionate interlude, but still I felt my cheeks burn.

  “Yes. He’s alive, as you suspected.”

  Lucius nodded in satisfaction, a pleased grin turning up the corners of his mouth.

  “Excellent news.”

  “I went to visit Denise, Bo’s mother,” I blurted.

  Lucius raised one auburn brow. “And?”

  “I think you were right. About the mind control, I mean. It’s like she was struggling to reconcile her fading memories with her life before…well, before Bo. It was actually kind of sad,” I admitted, my heart aching for the myriad of confusing emotions Denise had suffered at the whim of a vicious vampire.

  “Well, when the effects are completely eradicated from her system, she’ll be good as new.”

  I looked at Lucius, trying to tell whether he was telling the truth or just telling me what I wanted to hear. I couldn’t determine which it was.

  “I hope so,” I said absently. Then I remembered the other person that had been there. “I think she’s going to take care of it before it has a chance to wear off by itself anyway.”

  “Who?”

  “Heather.”

  “Heather?”

  “Well, I assume that’s who has been doing this to Bo’s mom. I mean, the morning I was there, I had thought someone else was there with Denise, but I wasn’t sure until I went back a few minutes later. I could hear two women talking and when Denise came to the door, she was totally different, like something had happened in the short time I’d been away. She had no idea who I was. It was really weird.”

  “So you heard another woman’s voice?”

  “Yep. And I could smell something sweet and floral, distinctly feminine, when she opened the door that second time.”

  “Hmm,” Lucius said, his brow wrinkled in concern.

  “Don’t you think it was probably Heather?”

  “It’s possible,” he answered noncommittally.

  “Well, who else would it be?”

  “That’s a good question.”

  I frowned, too. Sometimes, Lucius talked in circles. Sometimes, I doubted his forthrightness. Sometimes, I got the feeling he was playing for another side in the game. Not necessarily the bad side, but just not our side.

  “That aside, do you still think that Bo is the boy who can’t be killed?”

  “Well, that seems to further the theory, now doesn’t it?”

  “It seems to,” I said coyly. Clearing my throat, I asked, “So, what else do you know about that legend? I mean, in case it is Bo.”

  “The boy was supposedly th
e son of two angels, a child who God Himself empowered to kill his father. Some legends say his father was Constantine and that he was the very first one of us.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  Lucius shrugged. “That particular story doesn’t fit because Constantine died many years ago, and according to that legend, the boy would become mortal after the death of his father. Unless, of course, Constantine wasn’t his father. But there are many other stories of how it all began that are much more believable than that one anyway. Then again, if Bo can’t be killed…”

  Lucius cast me an odd sidelong look that brought the hairs on my arms to attention. I got the feeling that he was hiding something from me, but I wasn’t quite sure how to root it out. Of course, I could always just ask.

  I took a deep breath. “There’s something you’re not telling me. What is it, Lucius? What are you not telling me?”

  Piercing green eyes bored holes into mine, but I didn’t look away. I wasn’t going to back down. Good or bad, I wanted to know. I needed to know.

  “There is a legend- well, actually, it’s part of the same legend about the boy who can’t be killed.”

  Lucius paused, looking down into his lap and fiddling with the seam in his jeans, driving me crazy with curiosity, making me wait.

  “And?” I prompted sharply after at least one full minute had passed.

  “It speaks of God’s punishment to the angel who defied Him for love, the father of the boy who can’t be killed. Legend says that this angel will ultimately be killed by love. It tells of a girl, the one true mate of the boy who can’t be killed.

  Supposedly, this girl would provide him with the means by which to kill his father, fulfilling his destiny and regaining his mortality.”

  My whole being was focused on what he was saying, on the implications. I felt hyper alert and twitchy. I felt like my entire future was riding on his words. I don’t know why, but I did.

  “How? How will she do that?”

  Lucius finally looked up and met my eyes again.

  “It is said that God wrote it on her very skin and that only the boy would be able to understand it, to decipher it.”

 

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