She nodded, then peered into the back seat, as tears sprang to her eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks, “Zac, honey, it’s me, Mom …” she began, when I interrupted.
Zac was still out.
“Ma’am,” I gingerly interrupted, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She didn’t even flinch at the coolness of my touch. She was used to this strange world of the paranormal. “We have to go.”
She nodded, then slid into the passenger’s seat and buckled her seatbelt. “Let’s go,” she said, drying her tears. Now I know where Zac got his strength. After we were on the road, she turned to me and asked, clearing her throat, forcing the lump from her throat. “What happened to my son?”
I hesitated, not taking my eyes from the road. “He’s been shot.”
His mother gasped in horror.
“But he’s going to be fine,” I quickly amended, looking her in the eye. “It was touch and go for a bit, but I took out the bullet and he’s going to be fine.”
His mother looked out the front windshield, obviously bracing herself, trying to absorb what she was hearing. I wasn’t sure how much more she could take. She was already at the breaking point. “What else did you give him?” then she looked me directly in the eye, fighting back the tears.
And I knew she already knew. She knew much more about the vamp world than Zac thought. “I gave him my blood.”
She nodded, fighting back the tears, but said nothing.
“It was the only way to help him. My blood has healing powers for humans,” then I added. “It was either that, or turn him into a vampire.”
Her head snapped to the side, looking directly into my eyes. “Well, thank you for that,” she said, gathering her thoughts, looking out the window. “Thank you for saving my son’s life.”
I nodded, then a thought occurred to me. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“Jennifer,” she replied, still looking out the front window. “Jennifer Davis.”
“Jennifer, don’t worry,” I said, looking directly into her eyes. “I’m going to take care of you. You’ll be safe.”
Then she laughed unexpectedly, looking out the front window. “Take care of me? That won’t be necessary. Just take care of Zac.” Then she looked into my eyes. “He’s my world. I’ve been taking care of him for so long, looking out for him. It seems strange for someone to say you’re going to take care of me.”
“Well, don’t worry,” I amended. “I’m going to take care of you both, but you have to do exactly as I say. Can you do that?”
Jennifer took a deep breath and nodded. “Of course,” she replied, then asked. “What do I have to do?”
I laughed. “Just take care of Zac for me for a few days,” I replied, already knowing the answer to my next question before I even asked. “Can you do that for me?”
It was her turn to laugh now. “Like I said, I’ve already been taking care of him for a very, very long time.” She thought for a moment, taking it all in, then asked me point blank, “Are you an agent?”
I nodded, hesitating, then answered, “Yes, I am.”
“Were you assigned to him?”
“Yes, I was.”
“I can’t believe Sam!” she replied, looking out the window. “I specifically told him to let Zac live a normal life.”
“Well, no offense,” I gently began, thinking of the last few days. “If he hadn’t, Zac would be dead.”
Then tears slid slowly down her cheeks. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes.
Then I decided to gently broach the subject. “I just wanted you to know that it started off with me just protecting him, but it’s become much more than that now.”
She nodded, “I see.” But she said nothing more and changed the subject. “Where are you taking us?”
“To a safe house,” I replied, as I turned off the expressway. “No one will find you there, I promise. You and Zac will be safe.”
Then Jennifer turned to face me, looking me directly in the eye. “I sure hope you’re right.”
And deep down, I hoped I was, too.
A few sharp turns later, we were on a dirt road which led deep into the woods. We followed it for a bit, then came to a rustic log cabin buried deep in the woods. We pulled up to the front, then I turned to Jennifer and said, “Wait here with Zac for just a minute.”
She nodded and a moment later, I walked into the cabin.
It was adequately furnished with Adirondack furniture, much more accommodating than the outside of the cabin promised. I quickly opened the windows to air out the cabin as I walked through the small living room to the kitchen, then opened the cupboards. Good. It was well stocked. I kept it that way just in case. Yes, this was my own safe house that even the CIA didn’t know about. Zac and his mother should be safe here.
At vamp speed, I ran to the back of the cabin where there were two bedrooms across the hall from one another. Quickly, I opened the windows and turned down the clean white sheets in the bedroom on the left, then darted outside.
Jennifer was sitting in the back seat next to Zac with tears sliding slowly down her cheeks. I knew she had enough for one day. “Jennifer,” I said, gently touching her shoulder. “Let me get him inside, then you can come in.” I also wanted to get him cleaned up before she saw the extent of his injuries. Actually, it looked much worse than it was.
She nodded, then got out of the back seat and stood off to the side, giving me access to her son as silent tears coursed down her cheeks.
Quickly, I slung the bag I packed for Zac over my shoulder, then gently shook his arm, careful not to hurt him. “Zac … Zac, honey, we’re here.” He stirred a bit and his eyelids fluttered, then closed again. “Zac, your mom’s here,” I gently cooed, but he still didn’t wake.
With the blanket wrapped around him to cover his wounds, I carried him into the house and down the hallway and laid him carefully on the bed, then quickly shut the door, leaving his mother standing in the hallway.
She didn’t need to see this.
I quickly found a basin and filled it with warm water, grabbed a clean white washcloth, and headed back to Zac. Then I unwrapped the blanket from his body, exposing his wounds.
Dried blood covered his side, but as I checked the wound, it was healing nicely. As gently as I could manage, I cleaned his wound, letting the warm water wash away the blood.
“Abigail?” Zac asked, as his head lulled to the side, then he opened his beautiful eyes.
My heart jumped with joy at the sound of my name on his sweet lips. “Yes, Zac, I’m here. I’m just cleaning you up.”
“Am I a vampire?” he asked, surprisingly throwing me off guard.
“No,” I replied, gently wiping the blood away from his beautiful stomach muscles. “Why would you ask that?”
“I thought you would turn me,” he replied, a bit disappointed.
“Why would you think that?” I asked, unable to meet his gaze.
“Why didn’t you make me a vampire?” Zac asked, ignoring my question as his eyebrows pulled together.
“Zac, you don’t know what you’re asking,” I replied, applying a fresh bandage to cover the clean wound.
“Yes, I do,” Zac replied, looking into my eyes. “I want to be with you for the rest of my life, Abbey …”
“Shush …” I interrupted him, slipping a clean white t-shirt over his head. “We’ll talk about it later.” Then I hated myself for what I was about to say. “I have to go.”
“You’re leaving?” Zac asked, his eyebrows pulling together.
“I’ll be back, Zac,” I replied, hating to have to leave him. “Your mother’s here. She’ll take care of you until I return.”
“Mom is here?” Zac asked, as concern filled his eyes. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine,” I replied, gently placing another pillow under his head. “But before I let her in, you need more blood to heal, just in case.”
“Abigail, no, I don’t want to hurt you …”
A smile lit my lips. He was hurt, recovering from a bullet wound, and his concern was for me. What a wonderful person he was. “Zac, it’s okay. I fed while you were out.”
Zac laughed, then raised one eyebrow, “On whom?”
I laughed at his word choice. “Blood bags, don’t worry.”
“You’re doing human?” Zac asked, remembering my phrasing for drinking human blood.
“For the moment,” I replied, then looked him directly in the eyes. “I need all the strength I can get.” Zac nodded, understanding. Then I bit my wrist and Zac watched as a trail of crimson blood ran down my arm. “Here, drink this …”
“Abbey, don’t …”
“Zac, please,” I begged, holding my bloody wrist to his lips. “You need this to heal. Drink it, please.”
He nodded, then closed his eyes and placed his lips gingerly around my wound, and sucked in my life force, which promised healing for his wounds. A moment later, he pulled back and I wiped the blood from his full lips, then gently kissed them with my own.
“I have to go now, but your mother will be here to take care of you,” I told him, getting up from the side of the bed. “Get some rest and stay here until I come for you.”
Zac nodded, his eyebrows pulling together with concern. “Be careful, Abbey.”
“I will,” I replied, hating to have to leave him, despite the necessity. “Don’t worry about anything. You’re in a safe house and no one will find you. Just concentrate on healing.”
He nodded, then smiled, as I started toward the door. “Abbey?” Zac asked, stopping me while my hand was still on the silver door knob.
“Yes?” I asked, turning to face him.
“I love you, Abbey,” Zac said with complete conviction as his eyes met mine.
I smiled and his words were music to my ears. “I love you, too,” I replied, meaning every word. Then I opened the door to let his mother in.
Chapter 15: Verus
I opened the door and smiled weakly as Zac’s mother walked into the room. She returned the smile as she passed me to enter the room where her son lay. Unable to look behind, I ran quickly out the door at vamp speed, then turned the key in the ignition of the Challenger RT, listening as the hemi engine roared to life. Tears streamed silently down my cheeks as I threw the car into gear and headed toward the main road, leaving Zac and his mother behind.
I told myself over and again that Zac would be safe, but I hated myself for having to leave him behind. For a moment, I thought of the other members of my CIA vamp team, but knew I couldn’t call them. I didn’t know who I could trust at this point. And now with Rick and Annie gone, it was just me.
But I knew what I had to do.
I pushed the gas pedal to the floor and headed toward the city. I was going to The Mirage.
On I-95, I floored it, hoping I wouldn’t draw the attention of any uniforms along the way. But, at this point, I had no choice. I needed to find Rick and Annie and stop this mad man, whoever he was, before more innocent lives were lost.
But what kept running through my mind as I watched the signs quickly passing by is what he wanted with me. Surely he knew I wouldn’t work for him, shape shifter or not. Or maybe that was why he grabbed Rick and Annie. I just hoped they were still alive, but I quickly pushed the thought aside, not wanting to borrow more trouble. If I was going to save their lives and protect Zac, then I had to keep a clear head to find the answers.
And to get those answers, the first person—or vamp—I needed to see was Verus. He knew a lot more than he let on the other night. After all, he worked for this mad man, or was in contact with him, at least. Boy Blue and Big Bird said Verus was their contact when and if any vamp found Zac.
I cringed at the thought.
Soon, the night pushed the day away, sending shoots of purple and orange across the sky as I headed toward the city. Normally, it wouldn’t bother me to be alone, but now the car felt extremely empty without Zac here with me. But as I turned down W. 178th Street headed toward Hudson Parkway, I quickly pushed the thought aside for the task at hand. I made a left on Canal Street and headed toward Broadway, making myself a vow that I was going to find this guy that was after Zac, and he was going to pay with his life.
As I made a right onto Broadway, headed toward The Mirage, I knew I had to see Verus. The only question was who I was going in as. I parked the Challenger RT on the curb, grabbed my black leather jacket out of the back seat, and slammed the door shut, not bothering to lock it up. With the bullet holes on the side, no one would bother it, even though it was in the worst part of New York. Thugs would think the car belonged to a drug lord and everyone knows you don’t mess with the property of drug lords in New York City.
I walked purposefully toward The Mirage, slipping my arms into my jacket, determined to get the answers I needed. As I neared The Mirage, I decided to go in as Bill, the manager that I knocked out when we were here before. A lot had happened in those few short days. The last time, I was here with Rick and Annie. Now I was here to find them.
Anger filled my soul as I thought of Rick and Annie being held God knows where by God knows who. As I headed down the street, I made a silent vow to find them and to make whoever had them pay. But at the moment, I had to concentrate on the task at hand.
Not bothering to hide in the shadows and without breaking my stride, I let my body shimmer and shake, my features quivering and changing, until I morphed into Bill, the manager of The Mirage.
No one noticed or gave a damn. After all, many strange and exotic things happened in this part of town. No one cared. I approached the Mirage looking like Bill, eyeing the long line of humans lined up on the outside. If they only knew, they wouldn’t be dying to get in. Steve, the burly bouncer I morphed into the last time, was not at the door. He was probably fired after my little performance the last time I was here.
“Hey, Bill!” a small vamp with a black Mohawk manning the door greeted me, surprised. I wore a power suit and stood about six foot tall with coal black short cropped hair, and I was a vamp. “I thought you were still at home recovering from your run in with Steve. How’s your head?”
“Can it!” I ordered, walking purposefully past him and through the door.
“Okay, man,” Mohawk boy replied, backing away with his hands up in surrender. “No problem.”
I strolled into The Mirage, eyeing the blood dripping from the sign, indicating it was a vamp club, and walked straight up to the bar. Inside the door, some vamps swayed to the music on the dance floor, while others were perched at the bar from every era, just like the last time. On the end stood a vampire with a high-collared cape, just like in the old days, talking to a pretty young vamp probably from the 1800s. Walking past them, I slid onto a vacant bar stool beside a beautiful blonde that—if I didn’t know any better—looked exactly like Marilyn Monroe. Her hair was in platinum blonde waves—as was the style in the sixties—and black eyeliner with bright red lipstick. And despite the war paint, she was beautiful.
“Bill, I’ve missed you, Hun. You feeling better now, baby?” she asked in a breathless soprano voice, just like Marilyn, slinking over my shoulder.
“Not now,” I replied patting her hand, looking like Bill. “I’m working, babe.”
Body print.
Then she snubbed me and talked to a vamp that looked exactly like James Dean to her left. For a split second, I wondered if it was really them, Marilyn Monroe and James Dean. If it was them, they could have staged their deaths before anyone noticed they weren’t aging. Well, stranger things have happened.
Behind the bar was a female bartender with short black hair, cropped into a bob curling just below her ears, reminiscent of the silent movie era. She had a painted on black mole on her left cheek and heavy black, Cleopatra eyeliner to match.
“What can I get for you, Bill?” Cleo asked in a squeaky voice reminding me of Betty Boop, frantically chewing gum, as she placed an empty glass onto the bar in front of me. “The usual?”
<
br /> “No, I’m working,” I replied, pushing the glass aside.
Cleo laughed, then replied, “Since when has that stopped you?”
“Since tonight,” I replied, looking around the bar. “Where’s V?”
Cleo’s painted on black eyebrows pulled together, confused. “Well, he went home early tonight since it was slow.”
I looked around and it seemed busy enough to me. “Give me his address, will you babe?”
Marilyn heard my comment to Cleo and gave a humph, raising her chin, then turned back toward James Dean.
“Why do you need me to get it for you, Bill?” Cleo asked, looking worried. “You have it on your rolodex in your office.”
“Stop asking questions and get it for me,” I replied tersely, then added, “Now!”
“Okay, okay, keep your shirt on!” Cleo replied, then walked to the side of the bar and paged through a rolodex under an old-fashioned phone hanging on the wall, adding ambiance to the place. After a minute, she pulled a card from the rolodex and looked at it. “You want me to call him for you? Really, Bill, you have him on your cell phone …”
“No, I want to surprise him,” I replied with a smile, but I knew I couldn’t trust her. She knew something was up, but just didn’t know what. I thought it might be best if I killed her with kindness. “Just give me the card, babe. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Okay. Whatever you say,” she said, sliding the card across the bar, but nonchalantly placed her hand under the bar. I was sure she hit a silent alarm. Then she turned her attention toward the blonde as a diversion. “Marilyn, you need another one, honey?”
“No, I’ve had enough,” she breathed in answer, then looked back at me appraisingly. “Unless you want to buy me one, Sugar?” The vamp looking like James Dean rolled his eyes and turned away.
“Not tonight, babe,” I replied, getting up from the tall bar stool, casually slipping the card into my pocket. Besides, Marilyn would definitely change her mind if she knew the truth of who I was. But the truth for me was that I had to get out, and I had to get out now. “Maybe some other time.”
Star, Starland Vamp Series, Book 1 Page 22