by Zoe Arden
"Um, is it okay to ask what all that was about? It seemed a little more involved than missing Dean at the ferry."
"It was."
"So... are you gonna tell me what happened?"
He sighed and turned a corner.
"And where are we going?"
"Whisper Crossing," he said. "I need to clear my head."
I started to ask another question then thought better of it. Maybe this was one of those times when I should wait for him to tell me whatever it was. He cast a speed spell, and we made it to Whisper Crossing in less than an hour. When we got there, he went straight up to the cemetery on the hill.
"I know some people think it's weird, but I like it up here. You can see for miles. On a clear day, you can see straight to the ocean."
"Yeah, I know. It's one of my favorite spots, too."
He turned to look at me. "I'm sorry for being so... " he let out an exasperated sigh and ran his hands through his hair, "frustrating."
"Colt, you're not frustrating me; you're officially freaking me out. What did Dean Lampton and Sheriff Knoxx say to you?"
He clucked his tongue like he was debating with himself about whether to spill everything. "Dr. Dunne ran some tests on Rachel Sessler's puncture wounds."
"Okay..."
"Do you know much about how vampires kill?" he suddenly asked.
"They drink your blood."
"Yes, but they also leave behind a trace venom when they bite you."
"Poison?"
"More like a tranquilizer. It's how they can suck someone dry and not have them fight back."
"Okay..."
"The venom is like DNA or fingerprints. It's unique to every vampire. It's incredibly difficult to get ahold of the exact makeup of a vampire's venom. Most vampires today don't drink human blood, and those who do, don't get caught. So, the files we have are sparse. But there is one file where the victim matches the venom Dr. Dunne was able to pull off Rachel. The file belongs to a man who was killed by a vampire over ten years ago."
"Who?" I asked.
Colt looked at me, his eyes watery and angry all at once. "My father."
* * *
CHAPTER
TEN
.
.
.
* * *
* * *
.
My heart thundered in my chest. "You mean that whoever killed Rachel Sessler is the same person—vampire—who killed your dad?"
"That's right." Colt started walking back down the hill. More like stumbling than walking. I was afraid he'd fall and go rolling if he wasn't more careful. "I need to tell my mother." He paused just as he got to his car and looked at me. "Or maybe I shouldn't. She's gonna freak out."
"I'll bet. Is she still at your apartment?"
"Yeah. I haven't had much time to spend with her, but she says she doesn't care. She just wants to be around for a while." He licked his lips. "What do you think? Should I tell her?"
I considered it. "Yes, but maybe not until you find out more details. Like who the killer actually is."
I looked around Whisper Crossing. We were alone. High up on the hill, Sara Sweetland's angel stood watch, encouraging me to tell Colt the truth about Melbourne and Vlaski. I knew I had to. The problem was that I hadn't forgotten that I had this curse hanging over my head. Everyone on my mother's side of the family did, thanks to the witch who had placed it upon Sara Sweetland's child. Eleanor, Trixie, my mother, myself... we were all descended from Sara Sweetland. Descended from that curse.
What if that curse didn't want to kill me like it did my mother? What if it just wanted to ruin my life? What if I told Colt the truth about Melbourne, and he got mad for not telling him sooner? What if he left me here in Whisper Crossing?
"Ava?" Colt's voice snapped me out of my trance. "Are you okay? You look kind of pale." His eyes widened as if a light bulb had suddenly gone off in his head. "Have you eaten anything? Are you hungry? I think I have some chips in my car. You should have said something."
I shook my head. "It's not that. I'm not hungry."
"Then what is it? I know I'm acting a little funny, but I've got a reason to be. What's your excuse? Does it have something to do with that book you were looking for at Melbourne's?"
I nodded and bit my lip.
"Okay, so what is it?"
I quickly ran through the many possible outcomes available to me. Would Colt get mad? Would he freak out? Would he think I was lying or worse yet, crazy?
"You know how you told me that breaking and entering into Melbourne's could get me arrested?"
He nodded. "Yes..." He was waiting for the punchline.
"Well, it's not breaking and entering if the person who lives there asks you to go in, right?"
He squinted at me as if the sun were in his eyes. "That's true," he finally said, "but, Ava, Melbourne didn't invite you into his home."
"Yes. He did."
Colt's frustration over the connection between Rachel's death and his father's quickly evaporated, forgotten as he tried to understand what I was telling him.
"You mean that Melbourne invited you into his home once before, so you have the right to go in anytime you want? The law doesn't work that way, Ava."
"No, I mean that Melbourne came to see me and asked me to go to his house and find that book for him."
Colt was staring at me, his eyes growing wider by the second. "When? When did Melbourne ask you to do this?"
I licked my lips. "A few days ago." I hesitated then added, "Right before our date."
Colt's first reaction was to laugh. Then he frowned. Then he scratched his head. "You're serious."
I nodded.
"You're telling me that Melbourne is still alive."
"That's what I'm saying."
He started pacing the ground, wrapping his hands together. "You're sure it was Melbourne?"
"Of course, I'm sure."
"I mean, did you see his face or did you just hear his voice? Did you actually talk to him?"
"Colt, I was standing as close to Melbourne as you are to me now. I saw his face. I heard his voice. It was him." I licked my lips. "Also, he's the one who broke into Dale's Hardware and those other places. He was hungry and wanted something to eat. He says he'll pay everyone back for the food or any damage."
Colt stared at me another minute before flying into a frenzy of emotions alternating between excitement and rage. "He thinks he has the right to just mess with people like that? Making us think he was dead? Is he okay? I'd better call Dean Lampton. No, I'd better not call anyone. Oh, my roses, what was he thinking? Is he crazy?"
He finally stopped talking and turned to me. "Did he tell you anything? Why he faked his death?"
My throat was dry. "Vlaski Ambrose is trying to kill him. Melbourne knows something. I think it's something about the Cult of V, and whatever it is, Vlaski doesn't want it getting out."
"Vlaski Ambrose is here? Now?"
"Yes."
"Then it must've been him who killed Rachel. And my father."
"Should I tell Sheriff Knoxx?"
"No, don't tell anyone. If it got out, it could be bad."
"What do you mean?"
"It's not safe for Melbourne. It's not safe for any vampire right now. Dean is talking about putting together a vampire hunting party."
"What? But not all vampires are killers."
"Yes, but people are scared and angry, and people do stupid things when they're scared and angry. You know that better than anyone."
I wondered if he was thinking of the first time we'd met, when he'd tried to arrest me because the town was convinced I was a killer. It was amazing what kind of turns life could take. One minute, I'd hated Colt's guts. The next, I was in love with him.
"Then we need to find Vlaski," I said.
"Before Dean or anyone else finds Melbourne. If they find out he was faking his death, they'll assume he's responsible. If that happens, the next pile of ashes we find in Melbourne's house won't b
e fake."
* * *
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
.
.
.
* * *
* * *
.
I knew Colt wouldn't approve. That's why I waited until he was gone. After spilling everything to him about Melbourne and the Cult of V, I thought it only made sense to take a closer look at his father's death. If Rachel and Russell really had been killed by the same person—who was undoubtedly Vlaski—it only made sense to take a closer look at both crimes. Maybe there was something that had been overlooked.
Russell Hudson's death had been over ten years ago. Maybe there was new testing that could be done. Something that would help to give us the proof we needed. Right now, even though we knew it had to be Vlaski Ambrose who had killed both Rachel and Russell, there was just no way to prove it. The only thing that might help was if I could convince Melbourne to talk to COMHA and tell them that Vlaski was behind all this, but he didn't even want Trixie knowing he was alive.
I'd sent Lucy a text the night before telling her to forget about going to Melbourne's to look for that book. Colt had been too upset and when I'd finally left him to go home, I was exhausted.
I rang the bell at Colt's apartment and waited for his mother to come to the door. I'd begged Colt to talk to her. Not necessarily tell her everything that was going, just ask her about his father's death. Colt had only been twelve when it happened. As smart as he was, twelve-year-olds had a tendency to miss details that adults didn't. It was entirely possible that Terri Hudson knew more than Colt realized.
I thought I caught a shadow just to my left as I stood on the doorstep. I turned for a closer look but it darted behind a building. Or maybe it was just my eyes playing tricks on me.
I glanced down at my phone as I pushed the bell a second time. Colt had gone down to headquarters for the day with Dean Lampton. That meant he was on the mainland—Florida—and wouldn't be back until nightfall. I hoped his mom could keep this conversation between us. If she ever answered the door.
"Maybe she's not home," I muttered to myself, turning to go. Just then the door swung open. It revealed a pretty but not overly made up woman in her mid-forties with bright blue eyes that reminded me of Damon's. I pushed his image away. I hadn't heard from him for almost three months now. Not even a text. Not that I'd sent him any. He'd made it very clear he was through with me. With us.
"Hello," the woman said.
Her voice was soft and smooth. It reminded me of an elementary school teacher—the nice ones. The kind of school teacher who offered pieces of candy as reward for good behavior and let you wear fuzzy slippers in the classroom, not the ones who made you sit in the corner and write your name fifty times just because you called Mark Quincy a pill bug.
"Terri Hudson?" I asked uncertainly. It occurred to me that I'd never seen a picture of her before. I'd only been to Colt's apartment once or twice. We usually met at Coffee Cove or Mystic Cupcake.
"Yes?"
The tension in my shoulders began to make my head hurt. "Um, we haven't been formally introduced yet. I'm Ava Fortune. I'm—"
"You're Colt's girlfriend!" Her eyes widened to saucers, and her whole face lit up. She practically jumped out the door and swept me up in a giant bear hug. She was a good hugger. It made me smile and giggle all at once.
When she let me go, her face was beaming. "Come in, come in, I'm so glad you found a way to make some time. I told Colt how anxious I was to meet you, but he told me how busy you are."
"He did? You are?" I bit my bottom lip. The way this woman was talking, it almost seemed like Colt was making excuses to keep me away from her. Had he really told her I was too busy to meet her?
"I understand. Believe me. I'm not offended. What with the bakery and your extracts and all, you must be swamped with work. I offered to go down to your shop, The Mystic Cupcake, but Colt didn't think that was such a good idea. He said it would distract you."
I offered her a smile and hoped my face didn't betray the fact that I had no idea what she was talking about. Colt had never mentioned her wanting to meet me. Ever.
"Um, well, I decided meeting you was more important."
Her smile spread across her face. She started to go in for another hug, thought better of it, and offered me tea instead. When that was made, she put out some cookies and we sat across from each other in the living room, nibbling and talking.
"Don't sit so far," she chided, patting the seat beside her. "Come here, I want to show you something." She grabbed a photo album, and I moved beside her. I had no idea how I was going to question her about anything. She was much too giddy for questions about death and murder.
She opened the photo album and started sifting through it. "Here's Colt when he was two. Isn't he adorable?" It was a picture of Colt sitting on the toilet, potty training.
"And here he is at three and a half. See how his hair is so short? I had to cut it myself because he got gum caught in it." In this photograph, a pouty-looking Colt sat with not just short hair, but a completely shaved head. It looked as smooth as a bowling ball. He looked miserable.
I thought I was beginning to understand why he didn't want me meeting his mom.
"Now, if you two kids get married—and I'm not saying you will—but you are the first girlfriend of his, no, the second, that I've ever met, which tells me something. And don't worry, the first was in high school That barely even counts. So, if you two kids get married one day, your kids will probably have this hooked nose that Colt has in these pictures. See?"
She pointed out several pictures where Colt's nose hooked down at the end.
"Don't worry," she said. "It grows out." I smiled and nodded politely. "How many kids do you think you might want, Ava? I'm sure Colt would never admit it but he wants at least a dozen."
"A dozen?" My eyes popped out their sockets. Just a little.
"Oh, yes, a big family would be wonderful. He never had one growing up, and I so wanted to give it to him. But with his father passing away..." Her voice trailed off. Now was the chance I needed to steer the conversation toward Russell. Maybe I could question her without her even realizing it if I was careful.
"Colt told me about his dad. I'm sorry." I patted her hand.
She smiled at me and turned the page.
"This is him here. Russell, I mean. He was always such a good father. Well, almost always. Everyone makes mistakes."
"Of course, they do. I'm sure Russell loved you both very much."
"Thank you for saying that. I know he did." She frowned slightly, and I pointed to another picture of Colt with his saxophone.
"Colt told me he used to play but gave it up."
"Yes." Her bubbliness began to deflate like a balloon. "The day Russell died, he and Colt had a big fight over it."
"He may have mentioned that."
She looked surprised. "Did he?"
"Yes." I suddenly wondered where the saxophone I'd given Colt was. I scanned his living room and found it standing in a corner near the window. There was dust on it.
"Don't be offended," Terri said, following my gaze. "Colt showed me the saxophone you bought him. He adores it. He just doesn't play it."
I frowned. "I guess it must remind him too much of that day. When his father died."
"I'm afraid so."
"How exactly was it that he died? I mean, Colt told me it was a vampire attack, but I've never heard much beyond that."
"Oh, I don't like to talk about that very much. Neither does Colt."
"I understand. I just thought it would be nice to have more details. That way, if one of our kids ever asks, I'll be able to tell them." I knew it was wrong of me to play the grandkid card when Colt and I hadn't even had an official second date yet, but I had to get this conversation moving somehow.
"Well..." Terri was thinking, "it was like any other day, really. Except for the fight Colt and Russell had that morning. It still seems funny to me. Russ had never cared about Colt's
playing the saxophone before. Suddenly, he was crazed over it. Demanded Colt stop wasting his time."
"That must have been hard for Colt to hear."
"It was. I'm sure Russ would have apologized later. He just never got the chance."
"Colt said Dean Lampton came by himself to tell you about Russell's death."
"Yes, that's right. It had been two days, and I was getting worried. Russell had been gone overnight before, though, so I just chalked it up to that. He did a lot of top secret work and couldn't always tell me what was going on. Dean knocked on our door and... told me he was gone. For good."
"You mean, you didn't find out he was dead until two days after it happened?" This was the first I'd heard of this.
"Yes." Tears were forming in the back of Terri's eyes now. "I think I'm done talking about this." She smiled and rose from her seat. "More tea?"
"Sure. Do you know why Dean waited so long to tell you? I mean, if he knew Russell was dead—"
"They weren't sure at first. Not until they found his body. Now, please, I can't talk about this anymore."
Tears began dripping down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry. I just feel like I'm missing something. Why did it take them so long to find his body? Didn't they know where he was?"
Terri's voice was thick with her tears now. "Y-yes but it was in p-p-pieces. They wanted to f-find all of them f-first."
"Pieces?" My imagination ran wild. Pieces of Russell Hudson formed in my mind. His head. His hands. His toes. "Colt told me he was drained of blood. If he was found in pieces, though, I'm not sure that makes sense."
Terri fell apart. She sank into a chair and buried her head in her hands. I felt guilty for forcing the information out of her. "I'm sorry. I know it must be hard to talk about. My mother died when I was just a baby. I just have one more question."