"You saved his life," he interrupted.
"Hardly. He was only put in that situation because of me."
Callum's jaw clenched and he said nothing. He went back to work, placing the next layer on the cake. He finished putting the other two on, and bent down to make sure the cake was level. "The human is still an idiot," he muttered.
Tucking my hair behind my ear, I reached for a bowl of frosting and handed it to him. He took it, picked up a narrow spatula, and began smoothing the frosting on the bottom layer.
"Speaking of idiots," I said into the silence. "Liam was in a bit of a mood today."
Callum peered up at me. "I noticed earlier tonight," he said. "I sent him to pick you up, thinking that maybe his 'sunshine' would cheer him up." He gave me a small smile.
Glowering a bit, I said, "I think his mood was actually because of me."
"And why is that?"
"Well, uh, I think it had to do with last night."
"Hmm?"
"You know, with the whole—I think he heard us in the room downstairs and he just seemed upset about—"
A thoughtful look crossed over his face. "Ah."
"Ah?" I repeated.
"Liam has never done well with change," Callum explained, moving the spatula to the second layer.
"Oh."
"Which is something that is quite difficult when you live forever," he added.
"Yeah," I agreed. "I bet it is."
"It took a while for Liam to warm up to you," he continued. "I don't know if you know that he only referred to you as 'garlic girl' in the beginning?"
I let out a laugh. "Because vampires don't like garlic…" I shook my head. "I can't say I'm surprised."
"Yes, well, I made him put a stop to that immediately," he said with a glint in his eye.
"I guess I should be thankful that he now calls me 'sunshine'," I said.
"It is one of Liam's nicer nicknames," Callum said. "And I have heard quite a few over the years."
I smiled. "I'm sure."
Discarding the empty bowl in his hands and picking up a new bowl, he went on, "You and me…we changed the dynamics last night and Liam is struggling to adapt."
"Dynamics? What do you mean?" I asked, admiring the curve of his shoulders as he worked.
"In Liam's eyes, last night made things – well – more serious between us?" he responded a little uncomfortably.
"Oh," I said, brow furrowing. Serious? Is that what we were? "But who cares?"
"Ah, I would say Liam does." Callum stood up straight. "You are his 'sunshine'. And I believe he likes you—" He put up a hand to stop my protest, "—not necessarily like that—but Liam doesn't like many people, so we might have hurt his feelings."
"By having sex?" I said bluntly.
He laughed at the frankness of my words. "By crossing a line that Liam will never cross with you."
I grimaced at the thought. "I don't understand him."
"Nor does anyone else," Callum said.
I debated telling him about Liam's attempt to bite unwilling humans, but I didn't want to get him into trouble. Then he would be really pissed at me. "Garlic girl", indeed.
Callum finished frosting the cake and we began cleaning up the kitchen. When we were almost done, a tall man in a white uniform burst into the kitchen, eyes frantically searching for Callum.
"Sir—sir!" he panted, coming up to us. "We need your assistance immediately."
"What is it, Mr. Matthews?" Callum asked, putting down the towel in his hand.
Mr. Matthews put a hand to his heart, as if to slow its quick beating. "There is a big tear in the tent. Robbie just discovered it. It's right in the front, completely visible. I don't know why no one noticed it before. We need to know if you want to order a new one, sir. But since the event is tomorrow—it's such short notice—"
Callum didn't look stressed about it. He put a hand on Mr. Matthews' back and said, "Let me take a look."
"I'll just finish up in here," I told Callum, gesturing to the few dishes that were left in the sink.
"Are you sure, Dahlia?" Callum said, frowning slightly. "You did not make this mess."
Smiling reassuringly, I replied, "Don't worry about it. I'll meet up with you in a few minutes."
Giving me one last look, Callum escorted Mr. Matthews out of the kitchen. I heard Mr. Matthews expelling every concern he had about the tent, followed by Callum's low, calm voice soothing his worries. I turned to the sink, put on the faucet, and finished washing the bowls and pans.
I enjoyed the simplicity of the task at hand, especially when my life was so complicated. I breathed in the lingering smell of cake batter and the citrusy scent of the dish soap and closed my eyes.
There was definitely a feeling of impending doom hovering around in my head. There was no doubt Lilynn was going to strike again. She was going to try to kill me or hurt me or the people in my life until she was dead, frankly. I had my fair share of qualms about killing a human being, but if it came down to it, I would pull the trigger. Maybe that said something about me, I don't know.
"I don't know," I muttered, picking up a towel and drying my hands. I walked over to my purse and took the Firestar out, gave it a quick admiring look, and tucked it into the back of my waistband. The cold metal against my skin was a comfort. Perhaps idiotically, I felt safer.
Sneakily swiping some frosting from the middle layer of the cake, I pushed the kitchen door open with my index finger in my mouth. A member of the staff looked up from sweeping and I quickly dropped my finger, giving the man an embarrassed smile. An older man with a comb-over, he waved a hand in acknowledgment.
As I was making my way back towards the tent, I looked into a room off the foyer and saw Lester and Raven sitting on a couch, looking bored. I hadn't seen either of them since that night at Damien's house. They had both been through a lot since then; Raven dealing with killing her sister and Lester with his poisoning.
I stuck my head in. "Hey, guys," I greeted. "Lester, I'm glad you're feeling better."
Lester turned his body to face me. "Thank you, Flora. It was not the way I prefer to spend my evenings, but…" he said, trailing off with a smile.
"I'm really sorry that you got involved in all this," I said. "With Lilynn and everything."
He shrugged. "It is a hazard of my job," he said simply.
"Still," I said.
Raven's teenaged face looked tired and drawn as she plunked her black boots up on the coffee table in front of her. She crossed her arms and stared me down. "You're making our lives miserable," she said crossly.
"Yeah—yeah, I know. Sorry," I replied with some discomfort.
"Yeah, you should be," she said. "It's your fault Liam's in a mood."
I laughed, relieved that she wasn't directly blaming me for everything going on.
Her dark eyes twinkled a bit as she asked, "What did you even do? We haven't seen him like this since someone totaled his Lamborghini." Lester nodded in agreement.
Chuckling awkwardly, I responded with, "Well, I don't know. He just got a bit—a bit upset at something I did, and well—"
Raven's eyebrows rose skeptically. "'Something'?" she repeated.
"It was nothing," I lied.
"Oh, no, no, I think I know what this 'something' was," Raven teased.
Wincing, I leaned against the doorjamb, feigning nonchalance. Raven let out a loud laugh and said, "I knew it."
I put up both hands. "Think what you want," I said.
"So, how was it?" she asked. It was good to see that smirk on her face.
"Oh, hell no—"
"I have only heard favourable reviews but I'd love to know the truth—"
"I'm outta here," I said, grinning at them as I turned and walked across the foyer.
Spotting a bathroom next to the large dining room where they were setting up, I went in, locking the door behind me. It was big and as elegant as the estate itself, with its marble floors and countertops, impeccably cleanliness, and glistening
surfaces.
As I was washing my hands with the very expensive soap, I heard a distant yell. Frowning, I used the towel without looking at it, my eyes on the door instead, trying to listen. I didn't hear anything else, so shrugging to myself, I picked up my purse, threw it over my shoulder, and leaned closer to the mirror, checking for smudged makeup. It felt like such a girly thing to do with a gun tucked into the small of my back.
With my hand on the doorknob, I heard another yell. I yanked open the door and strode out into the foyer, looking for the source of the sound. I looked around and didn't see anyone. I could see that Lester and Raven weren't in the room that had just been in, and the dining room seemed empty. There was a crash that came from the direction of the tent and I started in that direction.
"What is going on?" someone behind me said in a thick accent.
I stopped, whirling around to find the man who had been sweeping outside the kitchen. Broom in one hand, he frowned at me. I shrugged and said, "I'm not sure. I thought I heard some yelling—"
"Si," he said, nodding, "I heard it as well."
I pointed into the dining room. "I think it's coming from over there."
He nodded again and came to stand by me. A faint feeling of dread began to coil itself in my stomach. What was going on?
Another yell came from outside the large wooden front doors to my left, but the words were incomprehensible.
"What are they saying—?" I began, brow furrowing.
The screaming got louder. I could finally make out the words. "Everyone get out!" they were shouting. "Everyone get out! Bomb! There's a bomb!"
Chapter 26
* * *
The man and I glanced at each other for a split second, and then we both dashed to the front door. I went for one of the doorknobs, but it wouldn't even turn. He tried the other one, but to the same avail. We looked at each other again.
"No key?" he panted.
"No time," I said.
I gripped his arm hard and ran towards the open door of the dining room. Running through the room with the half-set tables and decorations strewn on the ground, we didn't see anyone else.
Shit, shit, shit.
The glass door was already open and I could see the big white tent. I stepped out, pulling the man with me. Squinting at the tent, I couldn't make out anyone under there, either. I could hear some noise, but I couldn't tell from which direction it was coming from. I let go of the man's arm and pushed him in the direction of the front of the estate, since I figured that had a road we could try to escape down. If the bomb didn't explode in the next ten seconds, that was.
"Run!" I shouted at him.
He started off and I reached behind me for my gun before I began sprinting after him. I just ran as fast as I could. Heart pumping, feet pounding into the damp grass of the lawn and onto the gravel of the driveway, I quickly passed the man. I yanked on his arm as I passed and yelled, "Come on! Come on!"
Eyes wide and frantic as they looked at my face, he starting running as fast as he could. I ran to stay at his pace, which was slightly slower than mine, but not by much. There is absolutely nothing faster than running for your life.
We made it to the end of the front driveway, slipping around in the gravel. Gasping for breath, the man glanced at the house over his shoulder. I was about to give him a shove down the road that led up to the driveway before I heard the deafening bangs. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
I couldn't help myself. Slowing down, I turned around and ran backwards. Bursts of light exploded from underneath the tent, the front doors, the left side of the house, and next to a car parked in the driveway. Debris and shrapnel flew up and I couldn't take it all in. I was deaf and there were spots in my vision. But instinct told me to get low, so I threw myself to the ground, managing to grasp the man's shirt and pull him down with me. My purse flung away from me, but my gun remained firm in my grasp.
The gravel was cold as I pressed my cheek into it, arms over my head. Even with muted hearing, I was able to hear two more explosions come from the area where the cars were parked. The man let out a scream from beside me. I peeked up from under my arms to see if he was injured, but I didn't see any wounds. The car alarms were blaring. My eyes darted to the cars in the driveway. Flames were sprinkling down on the hoods of the cars. I was so thankful my brain was still working, because I realized what fire and gas tanks equaled.
Scrambling to stand up, feeling slightly dizzy, I grabbed the back of the man's shirt and attempted to get him to stand up. Shakes were wracking his body, and when he turned towards me, I saw the tears on his face and the wet marks on his shirt.
"We gotta go," I said loudly, not able to hear myself well. I made myself put one leg in front of the other.
"Qué?" he spluttered.
I tugged on his sleeve, jerking my head in the direction of the cars. "Gas," I tried to explain. "The cars…"
So completely disoriented, he gave me a puzzled expression, but started running. I let go of him and we raced down the road. The thick trees made the night even darker, but the faint orange glow from the fires near the house helped to illuminate our way. Where was everyone else? Where was Callum? I hoped everyone had made it out in time.
There was another blast, but this one sounded different than the previous ones. I heard metal crash and screech against the rocks of the driveway. One of the cars had exploded. I heard the crackling sound of fire and the rest of the pieces of the vehicle collide into the ground. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew Liam was going to be pissed if that had been his Mercedes.
Lungs tight and muscles burning, I kept on running. My body and mind were in survival mode and the adrenaline was coursing through my system.
The road curved to the left and I saw someone around the corner. I saw more people, all in white uniforms, huddled together in groups. The two of us slowed down quickly, almost hurtling into three women clutching each other. The man with me fell down on his knees and began weeping and praying. A woman ran to him and collapsed on top of him, sobbing.
"Gracias a Dios!" she gasped. "Gracias a Dios!"
I bent down, resting my hands on my knees, breathing hard. I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead. For a moment, I could only hear the sound of my own breathing. In and out. In and out. Someone put a hand on my back, but I just said, "I'm okay, I'm all right."
And I was okay and I was all right. For the umpteenth time in the past couple of months, I had managed to get out alive. And this time, unscathed. The bombs had probably been homemade, so their blast radius hadn't been that large. This was Lilynn's doing, no doubt. But it didn't make sense. If she wanted to kill me, she should have been certain that I was in an area where a bomb would explode. If she wanted to kill a vampire, she was out of luck, since a few bombs wouldn't take them down.
I might be okay, but I didn't know about everyone else. I straightened, shaking my hair out of my face, and looked around. There were about twenty uniformed employees, and although shaken, they appeared to be uninjured. I made out Mr. Matthews' form sitting on the ground, knees to his chest. There were no vampires in sight, though.
I touched the shoulder of a young woman. "Has someone called 911 yet?" I asked, voice raspy.
She nodded, but her eyes were glassy. I patted her shoulder, and then an older woman approached us and put a comforting arm around the girl. Her eyes darted to the gun in my right hand, but I kept it right where it was.
"You okay, miss?" the woman asked me. There was a tear in the knee of her uniform, spackled with some grass and blood stains.
"Yeah," I said. "I'm okay. How is everyone else?"
Her eyes swept around the groups of people. "I think everyone is okay," she replied. "I think—I think that they are."
"Good…good," I said. Cars alarms were still going off in the distance and smoke was rising from the estate. "Have you seen Callum—Mr. Knightley? Or any of the others?"
Swallowing, she shook her head, clasping her arm tighter around the girl. "I
think I saw them run after a black car." She gestured down the road we were standing on, in the opposite direction of the estate. "That way. Mr. Knightley and his…friends." She turned to the girl and became oblivious of my presence.
I gazed down the long dark road. Whoever had been in that black car was out of luck. Vampires were much faster than any car. But what if it was a decoy? The car could be rigged to blow up when they caught up to it. What if Lilynn was in there with some hired assassins with stakes? It wouldn't be the first time she hired people to kill us.
I took half a second to decide before I began running down the small, winding road. Some people behind me yelled out in protest, but I didn't care. I wasn't entirely sure what I was looking for or how far the car had made it down the road. I just needed to find Callum, Liam, all of them, so I ran as fast as my already tired muscles would go.
My breathing sped up and my boots thudded on the pavement. It was moments like this when I wished I had run that extra mile at the gym…or had gone to the gym at all.
About a quarter of a mile later, I caught a glint of the waning moon reflecting off a shiny surface. Slowing to a jog, I held up my gun in my right hand and wrapped my left hand around it for extra support. It was too difficult to aim properly and jog at the same time, so I slowed down to a fast walk. I forced myself to breathe. My heart was beating uncontrollably. I wished I had the extra ammo that was in my purse. Great. Just great.
The car, a black sedan with tinted windows, was stopped in the middle of the road, its four doors spread open. The faint ding ding ding of the car's security system was the only sound I could hear. I approached the car cautiously, pointing the Firestar into the backseat. The light emitted from the car hurt my eyes, so I squinted. Seeing nothing in the back, I took a step forward and swung my gun into the front seat. There was no one.
Putting my back to the car and my gun down, I looked out into the dense trees. They swayed with the evening's gentle breeze, and I just watched them for a couple seconds. I turned my head to look further down the road. Nothing. Where were they? I made my way around the front of the car, and examined this side of the woods. My fingers gripped the Firestar hard, prepared to use it at any moment.
Death of Night Page 40