Hunting Tess

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Hunting Tess Page 14

by Kathryn Summers


  “Especially when working for vampires.”

  “We’re a few minutes out,” Landon informs from the passenger seat without diverting his attention from the fancy phone in his hands. While the man has silver hair streaked in with his brown, his biceps are the size of a small child’s head. What I’ve gathered from Parker, Landon has been working at this profession for quite a while.

  Excitement runs down my arms causing the hair to stand on end. This could be the one.

  For the past few days Marc’s team has been flooded with accounts of vampire sightings, particularly in regards to the Master. Other neighboring teams have been called in to assist the sudden influx, but I’m hoping to be with the group who actually locates him. So far we’ve checked out nearly a dozen possible locations, all empty.

  If I had known who the Master would end up being, I would have killed him the moment I saw him walking Hillbrook’s halls.

  I was returning back to class after a trip to the restroom when Hillbrook’s Headmaster was walking two new students down the corridor, accompanied by their father. The sickly-sweet smell hit me first, and I vividly remember nearly stumbling into a large framed portrait. While it was the new students I was most curious about, I rarely forget a face. Dmitri and Viktor’s father is the Master.

  And now he has one less son.

  Clearing away carnage from the latest vampire attack left me more shaken than I care to admit. Marc’s team had impeccable timing, but the fact vampires could coordinate such an assault so effortlessly, without attracting any kind of previous attention, is scary.

  My left hand clamps tighter on Parker’s. If Viktor’s father saw him being cut down by Parker, I have reservations this will have an easy ending. There is no way the Master will allow Parker to live. Through this whole ordeal I’ve gotten a glimpse of how widespread a community the vampires have under their control. There is no telling where an attack will originate.

  The SUV rolls to a stop and I shake myself back to the present. Marc parks with a silent nod to us all, mentally illustrating the spiel we’ve all memorized about following proper protocol.

  Exiting into the cool night air is refreshing after spending all day cooped up in a car with four other people. A second black SUV pulls up behind us with the rest of the crew climbing out.

  Parker ducks around a corner to shift as I take up my own position. When Marc first assigned me the post of jumper, I thought the role sounded exciting. But now I have been proven very, very wrong. It’s a glorified way of saying I get to stand outside. Then, if an assailant miraculously sneaks past the other eight individuals who actually get to enter the building, I try to catch them.

  The building half a mile down is nondescript, much like the others we’ve visited. Old haunts no longer in use but with enough supernatural black-market evidence remaining to know it was once an active site.

  The adrenaline I’ve been running on since the fight on CU Boulder’s campus has been slowly draining the past few days. My aching feet desperately yearn for an Epsom salt bath.

  “If a vampire runs out just toss them back inside,” Pete comments, scuffing the bottom of his shoe against the sidewalk’s curb like he’s trying to remove a piece of gum. “I’m working on my kill count.”

  Landon’s muscles tighten beneath his shirt, his frayed nerves getting no respite from Pete’s determined attempt of machismo. “Leave the girl alone,” he states, probably imagining how much trouble would rain down if he were to throw Pete through a window. At least, that’s what I’m wondering.

  A cold nose bumping against my shoulder lets me know Parker is back. I try not to think about where he stashed his clothes since doing so will lead me down a road ending in a bright red face with no innocent answer for curious individuals.

  “Let’s move,” Marc orders. “Keep it tight and clean.”

  Moving under the cover of darkness it doesn’t take long to reach our clandescent destination, but a single whiff reveals another false trail. I look around for any signs of movement within the past few days and find none. In wolf form Parker does the same yet enters the building with the rest of the group, returning a few minutes later in disappointment.

  The ride back to the main base is silent and a destination I’m becoming familiar with. After CU Boulder I didn’t want to risk staying at Parker’s home in case the vampires tried to launch another attack. Unsurprisingly Parker whole-heartedly agreed.

  “We’re here,” Parker whispers, kissing me on the temple. Stretching as far as the seat in front of me allows, I let out a massive yawn, feeling like I could have continued sleeping for twelve hours straight. Softly chuckling at the display, he helps me down from the car. My feet feel heavy as we pass through the doorway to the home The Agency bought as Denver’s base. The art deco theme feels very Great Gatsby, and while not my taste, others seem like they appreciate the artistic design.

  The two-level home, including a finished basement, is enough to house Marc’s team and the visiting team from Salt Lake, many of whom are banging around in the kitchen. Two more groups from Albuquerque and Oklahoma City are staying in hotels.

  “You look as if you’re about to drop,” Parker comments as people split from the main hub of the house.

  “That is a very accurate assessment. But before I do, all I want is a nice, long, hot shower.”

  “If you want hot water you had better get a move on.”

  Marc rushes out from a side office with his phone at his ear shouting, “Landon, Rebecca, Isaac, Rob, and Iris, get your shoes back on because there’s been another sighting.”

  “What? Where?”

  “Are you kidding? We just got back!”

  “Let’s go!” he orders, not wanting to lose a lead this fresh.

  “I want to come,” Parker insists as people rush past us toward the front door. An objection is on the tip of my tongue, until I notice how much he is trying not to look in my direction. Does he think I’ll protest? Except, that’s exactly what I was about to do.

  Marc gives him a hard look before nodding. “We can use all the help if it turns out to be authentic. So long as you have the energy.” Those last few words are said after he is already out the door.

  Parker finally looks down to me, and I don’t want to be the one holding him back. Of course, I would much rather him be here to snuggle after my shower, but who I am to oppose his desire to rid the world of evil?

  “Go on.” My lips turn up in a small smile. His eyes crinkle in the corners, softening the hard look that’s been plastered on these last few days. He takes a step closer and my breathing hitches. “Seriously, Marc will leave and then you’ll be stuck with little old me.”

  “Tempting, tempting,” he breaths, a smile of his own crossing his features. “Are you sure you don’t want to come along?”

  “Ha, no. Hot shower, remember?”

  With a swift kiss to the corner of my mouth he dashes out the door. Waiting until my heart rate returns to a normal rhythm, I move to shut the forgotten open door when two sets of eyes flash from the darkness. The Twins sit beneath a rhododendron bush, their tails twitching in aggravation. I look at the SUV’s tire tracks, the car’s taillights still visible in the night.

  “Keep him safe,” I whisper, feeling like all the air is sucked from my lungs and fervently wishing I had agreed to go with Parker. “Please.”

  The Twins sprint into the dark. I don’t question whatever power informs them of trouble, just like I don’t question the fact they’ll make it to Parker. Sending off a quick message to be extra vigilant along with the additional aid from the Twins, I close the door before treading the stairs up to my room. Extremely hesitant as to our living conditions, I was pleasantly surprised to have my own room, sharing a joint bathroom with Rebecca.

  Never far away, Parker bunks with a couple of guys from Salt Lake across the hall who share a bathroom with four other men. Seven men sharing one bathroom. Cringing at the thought, I thank my lucky stars once again for privacy. Good
ness knows I need my bathroom space.

  My lower lip feels raw by the time I’m stripped and standing in the granite tiled shower, listening intently for every little ding from my phone laying on the counter. There’s no way I’ll be able to fall sleep before Parker returns. Looks like it will be a long night of staring at the ceiling.

  “They’ll be fine. There’s no reason to doubt otherwise,” I mumble to myself while lathering shampoo into my hair. My stomach growls and I realize I should have eaten before getting in. “No way I’m leaving my room now. Nuh uh, no way. Though cereal sounds pretty good. Or Chinese food. Or Italian. Maybe I can order pizza and have someone bring it to my room.”

  The gabbling continues as an old Muse song plays in my head until I realize that all the thoughts flashing through my head are actually verbal. “Well that’s it for me,” I mouth. “This is the last straw before they send me to the loony bin. This wouldn’t happen if I got sleep.”

  Autopiloting necessary cleaning regimes, I stand under the hot pounding water for a few extra, unnecessary, minutes to raise my internal core temperature. When my skin starts to pleasantly burn I’ve reached my goal.

  “Uh,” I groan, groping for a towel hanging from a rack just within reach. I’ve come to the resolution that The Agency doesn’t want their employees to shower. Otherwise, they would provide something besides the scratchy piece of cloth posing as a fluffy towel. Towels are meant to encase you in a comforting hug, not rub your skin off.

  Steam swirls around the bathroom, encasing the mirror and infusing the air with humidity. Semi-consciously ignoring the fan designed to clear away condensation, I revel in the leftover shower heat.

  Trying to be as gentle with the prickly material against my skin as possible, I almost jump when my phone dings loudly. Snatching up the device, my hands shake with anxiety as I swiftly skim Parker’s words.

  He informed the others to be on their guard but the destination is still over an hour away, near one of the suburbs of Pueblo. I try to recall one of my conversations with Emily. She visited Florence to see some old timey movie, but ended up getting lost because of poor cell service and missed the showing. That’s all I remember since she related the story right before an audition when I was focusing elsewhere. Can’t believe I remembered the area.

  Securing the towel around myself, I open the door to a rush of unwelcome cold air and even more unwelcome smell that freezes me in place. That precious fraction of a second is one I can never get back.

  “I believe we have a previous engagement.” The Master wraps his long fingers around my upper arm as I grip the towel to my body. There are too many vampires to have any sort of chance. Unless I can turn into a giant panther again.

  Wet hair brushes against my shoulder blade and bumps rise on my skin from the sudden drop in temperature. Preserving modesty with this crowd is a non-negotiable. I wonder how many I can take out one handed.

  “Once again, I will offer you the option of how you prefer to proceed. You may dress in the bathroom, but I am not a fool. I will accompany you to ensure you don’t attempt any tricks. If that is not to your liking at the moment then you may come as you are, dripping hair and all.”

  The team from Salt Lake plus Pete and a girl named Eunos are in the house. The bedroom window is currently closed and locked meaning they had to travel up the stairs. Didn’t anyone see them?

  My brain doesn’t process in time what my eyes are screaming for it to see. Blood.

  Flinching away from a finger trailing up my neck, my gaze jolts from vampire to bloodied mouth vampire.

  “There is a third option, but I would like to avoid using it if possible.”

  The words fly over my head as incoherent mutterings while I plan out a way to escape. Now if only an idea would come.

  My phone. Currently crushed against white fingers, the screen is pressed into the only thin fabric separating me from a mass of monsters. If I can send a text and stall, maybe Parker will get here in time.

  Summoning every ounce of acting magic that’s accompanied me throughout the years, I look down at the towel with a slight degree of horror. “Change,” I whisper, the word feeling odd passing through my lips. “I need to change.”

  The pressure lessens slightly at my arm. “Excellent choice, my dear.”

  A vampire shoves a bundle of clothing at me which I quickly scamper to catch, not wanting to retrieve any pieces from the floor.

  Stumbling backwards, I try to use the clumsiness as a cover for unlocking my phone. Low sniggering follows the incident until I parade into the bathroom followed by the Master and two of his goons. One of the tall vampires dressed in solid black shuts the door, muting the obnoxious choking sounds barely passing for a dry chuckle.

  “I didn’t agree to three.”

  “And yet here we are.”

  Fully aware they’re only here to protect their leader doesn’t give me a good chance for a successful attack. “Turn around.” The forceful demand is neither weak nor leaves room for dispute.

  “Manners,” he chides, his dark hair making his already fair skin pallid. When my expression does nothing to change, he slowly turns. The other two only rotate half-way with their eyes adverted. Even if all three backs were to me, I don’t know if I could move to put on whatever clothes I’m clutching to my chest. What if someone turns? Or they glance in the mirror? No. No no no no no.

  Swiping out an SOS, I cough to cover up any sound that doesn’t comprise the ruffling of fabric. I fervently pray Parker hasn’t entered a dead zone on his way to Florence.

  Peeking at the clothing I was so rudely handed, I lift up a shirt in hopes to find underwear beneath when the phone slips against the towel. Sloping downward, my left hand fumbles the catch while trying to keep the towel securely fastened. With a painful thud it hits against the toilet before bouncing to the floor.

  The four of us stare at the floor like it has the most fascinating renaissance painting by Da Vinci himself before I lift my gaze to three very angry sets of eyes.

  The one closest to the door moves to intercept whatever he fears I’ll do to his leader. He yowls in pain as I kick out his knee. Wanting to rip the towel rack off the wall but worried about dropping any article of clothing in case I also lose part of the towel itself, my elbow slides into the stomach of another attacker. Ready to spin around him and try my luck with the horde outside, a sharp sting pierces my upper arm. Trying to shake off the cooling feeling spreading outward from the origin point, it takes my mind a moment to realize that my arm didn’t follow the command to open the door.

  Looking down, I see my hand fall of its own accord before arms wrap around me from behind, keeping my towel in place. Other appendages follow suit in mere moments until I have no control of my body.

  “Wrap her in the blanket from the bed. We’re leaving.”

  CHAPTER 17

  HER

  I wonder how many bones I’ll break if I jump.

  My hair stirs in the chilly wind, but at least there’s fresh air on the balcony as opposed to my suite of rooms pumping out ventilated air.

  “Do you not care for steak?” Kleidion asks from across the table. Foregoing a candle, a good move on his part since servers would constantly be relighting it with the wind, there are several strands of twinkling lights decorating the private balcony outside my sitting room. If he’s hoping for a romantic ambience, I would gladly tell him, again, that he’s failing.

  The heavy piece of meat sits untouched on my plate next to sauteed turnips and bacon Brussel sprouts. The meal looks fine but the company squashes my appetite. The chains around my wrists also dampen the mood.

  Looking out to the rugged mountains lining the distance, I trace their peaks illuminated by moonlight.

  “You must eat, keep up your energy.”

  “My energy is no concern of yours.”

  “You shy away from the inevitable. I’m not a monster, but I will not wait forever.”

  Feeling the topic shifting toward dange
rous grounds I have no desire to cross, I pick at the roll resting on a side plate. The ridiculousness of eating in chains has grown more normalized with ever passing meal which is probably not a good thing.

  Nibbling the food is enough to stop Kleidion’s pestering, cutting off the route I know he was going to take since he has been relentless in telling me my future place. From the fairly graphic picture he paints, I know he is expecting children. Lots of them. I have to forcefully swallow the bite of bread caught in my throat and hope it doesn’t make a return visit.

  Because vampires believe the institution of marriage is a mortal’s drive to form lasting relationships, and I don’t know whether they scoff at the idea because it’s human or because they don’t want to be bound for hundreds of years, they don’t get married. So basically I get to live as a concubine, my days confined to a set of rooms locked from the outside. At least, until I find a way to escape, or, as a last resort, jump.

  “Did you have a nice day?”

  Even one of the server’s flinch. Probably not at his asinine question, but rather my homicidal expression. Clearly waiting for a response, I take the rose he offered me at the beginning of the meal, snap off its head, and drop the stem and petals into the glass water pitcher.

  I’ll probably have to say goodbye to these outside dinners. I put up with the goon squad that accompanies Kleidion in order to enjoy this small outdoor luxury even though all the bodies make the balcony somewhat crowded. But he will not tolerate an act of disrespect in front of his subjects.

  Already garbed in a heavy red velvet gown, I’ve jumped through the hoops he’s asked to gain what little I do have. A small hand-held mirror, for example. Not for vanity, but to get a visual for things sneaking up behind me. Glass can be used as a weapon and therefore kept to a small size which they deem can do no real damage to a vampire. Everything in my rooms are soft, plush, and completely useless in a fight.

 

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