Blood Curse (Misty Cedars - Vampire Edition)

by Adrienne Blake

  Noah removed the sword from its scabbard and dropped the cover to the ground. He held the sword out in front of him for a moment, moving his hand up and down the handle, getting the feel of it.

  "Now, watch me," he said. "Stand back."

  Noah opened his posture and swung it a couple of times over his head. Swish, swish. "See how it flows?" he asked.

  "Looks easy enough," said Holly.

  "Very well. Now you try."

  Noah handed Holly the sword. It was heavier than she expected.

  "Okay, now, go slow. Swing it a couple of times and get its balance."

  Holly noticed Noah stood way back as she sliced the blade through the air. That wasn't too terrible.

  "Not bad," said Noah, smiling. "Remember not to swing it down into your own legs or anything like that. Keep hold of it with both hands, with your hands apart, so you have leverage and control."

  "Okay."

  "Now. Make a swing for that apple," he said. "See if you can slice it in half, left to right."

  "Okie dokie."

  "Remember you don't use it like an axe, you touch whatever you're cutting with the blade, and draw the full length of the blade along, so every inch gets involved in the cut. Now off you go!"

  "Right."

  Holly gritted her teeth and placed her entire focus on the apple. She raised the sword and with a single swish, sliced the apple apart. The two halves went spinning across the floor.

  "Wow, okay," said Noah. "Let's see if you can do that again."

  He placed a second apple in the same spot.

  Holly waited until he was out of the way and then struck. Once again, she hit the mark and the fruit went spinning away.

  "What? Did you go to some samurai sword training school or something?" asked Noah.

  "No. Fruit Ninja," she explained.

  Noah laughed. "Whatever that is. Alright, a couple of last things. Can I have the sword, warrior woman?"

  "Sure." Holly laughed as she carefully handed it to him.

  "If anyone tries to reach for you, step back and swing, like this, see? Keep the blade high. It's a Japanese technique. So you can bring it down swiftly. Okay?" Whoosh, whoosh.

  "Yup. Got it."

  "Hold it up over your head, ready to chop down, to attack or to block. I strongly doubt Micah will have a sword of his own, but we don't know what that cop has in his house. Best be prepared for anything, I reckon."

  At the mention of Micah's name, Holly's smile faded. She knew the hour was drawing close when she would have to face him, and the thought filled her with terror. Plus, she was still feeling a little giddy. She sat down on the end of the pew and rested her head in her hands.

  Noah put down the sword and sat down beside her. He was quiet for a moment.

  After a minute, she sat up straight and turned to face him. But the pain in her heart was too much, and she looked away.

  Noah crooked a finger under her chin and drew her face back to his. "Hey. What is it? You can tell me."

  "I'm just sitting here, looking into the abyss, thinking about, oh, everything I guess. I mean, so much could go wrong. Hell, we don't even know for sure if this is the right man."

  "What about your instincts? What do they tell you? Now we're that much closer, I thought you might begin to sense his presence."

  Holly shook her head sadly. "No. Nothing. I feel a little bit weird, but I think it's this church." She wiggled her finger around at the ruins then nervously wrung her hands. There was more, and she gazed thoughtfully into Noah's eyes, wishing he could read what was in her heart without her having to say it.

  "What is it?"

  Fortune favors the brave. "Noah, before we leave the church, there's something I want to tell you. I appreciate your risking your life for me. And I also appreciate I'm going to be dead soon, really dead. You said when you mate with someone, you mate for life. Well, if I'm dead, you can start over, seek out another mate...." She faltered, wondering if she would have to spell it out.

  It was Noah's turn to look down at his hands. But when he sat up straight again, he was smiling.

  "You are not going to die, soon. I won't allow it. I'll die myself before I let that happen."

  Holly rolled her eyes but again, Noah tweaked her chin gently back to him.

  "But when Micah is dead, when you're yourself again, I promise, we can discuss this some more." Noah leaned close and pressed his lips against hers. His kiss was gentle, but passionate, inflaming her desire, and she wanted more. She kissed back harder, but he took hold of her shoulders and pulled her firmly away.

  "If the sun wasn't sinking in the sky I would pursue this," said Noah, staring meaningfully into her eyes. "But with every second that passes, Micah gets stronger, and the risk becomes greater for you."

  Holly lowered her head, frustrated. But she knew he was right.

  Noah stood up and grinning, extended his hand. "Come on, honey. We have an immortal to kill, don't we?"

  Holly nodded philosophically, and after a heavy sigh, accepted his hand and stood up beside him.

  "Sure, you're right," she agreed at last. She tossed her hair back and took a whopping gulp of stale church air into her lungs. "Let's do it. Let's go kick some vampire ass."

  13

  The MacMillan House

  They hadn't stopped all day and yet time was slipping away. It was six o'clock by the time Noah slowly turned into the Maple tree lined street and stopped within sight of their destination.

  The MacMillan house was a surprisingly well kept Colonial, with additions on both sides. The lawn hadn't been mowed in a few days, but, besides that, there were no obvious signs of neglect.

  All seemed quiet, and the driveway was empty. Noah felt sick. His greatest fear might prove true. Micah might be away and not get back in time for their plan to work. Or maybe this wasn't the right place at all. Holly had said it herself—she hadn't sensed a thing.

  "This street is dead," said Holly. She had been studying the free town map and now folded it neatly and stashed it in the glove compartment. "Not just that house, but all of them. Look at it. There's no one around anywhere. Are you feeling a bit creeped out too?"

  "Something like that, yes," replied Noah. "There's usually a kid or something out this time of day."

  "So what do we do now?" asked Holly.

  "Sit here for a minute and just stake out the place, I guess."

  "Why don't we just go and break in? If he's sound asleep, he won't hear anything anyway. I don't understand what you're waiting for."

  "I guess I'm just wondering why there's no car on the drive," Noah replied. "He's a cop, so where's the car? It's the middle of the day, and he's a night owl. It should be parked there now."

  Noah couldn't have timed his question better. He turned just as a flash of white caught the corner of his eye. A police car drove right by him. It drove right up to the MacMillan house and parked on the drive.

  "Sense anything?" asked Noah.

  "Not a thing. Maybe the telepathy thing is one way, I dunno? Or maybe it's not him. Did you get to see his face?"

  "No, but look."

  A man in uniform slipped out of the patrol vehicle and turned to close the door. He looked straight at their car.

  Holly slouched down in her seat at once. "Shit! Do you think he spotted us? Maybe he remembered the car! I should have listened to you and let you drive yours."

  Noah stared straight back. It was the cop in the picture alright. A little thinner perhaps, but it was definitely him. But then MacMillan turned, and walked down to the front of the drive where he retrieved his mail from the mailbox. He was carrying a clear plastic bag in his hand, which seemed to be filled with water.

  "Is that a goldfish?" asked Holly, peering intently.

  "Err, yes. I believe it is," replied Noah.

  MacMillan strolled slowly back up the drive toward the house, flicking through the envelopes as if he hadn't a care in the world. He stopped only the once to glance casually at his fish, but t
hen transferred everything to his left hand. With his right, he unlocked the door and let himself inside.

  "Well that's odd," said Noah.

  "What's odd?"

  "It's broad daylight! So unless he's wearing an eight million factor sun-screen, he's looking awfully well for the time of day."

  "Yeah, I figured that out, genius."

  "And another thing," continued Noah.

  "What's that?"

  "I can usually sense when an immortal is nearby, at least if he's active. This guy's walking about, going about his business and still, I'm not feeling a thing. Are you?"

  Holly shook her head. "Nothing feels any different," she said. "This can't be our man."

  Shit. This was their one good lead, but it had turned out to be nothing, after all. MacMillan was alive. It couldn't possibly be Micah in disguise; the daylight would have destroyed him.

  Holly was staring at Noah, her eyes were searching, as if trying to read his mind. She knew what this meant as well as he did. No one had to spell this out. And yet, she still looked hopeful. Noah rubbed the bridge of his nose and tried not to sound too despondent. But his heart was torn in two.

  "Sorry, babe, I just don't know what to say," said Noah.

  "Sorry for what? Rescuing me from a vampire? For nursing me back to life? For coming with me on this quest and risking your life for mine? For standing by me no matter what it cost you?" She laughed, took his hand and squeezed it. "From where I'm standing, you ain't got nothing to apologize for, honey. You have no idea how glad I am that I met you." Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn't let them fall. "I just wish we'd had a little more time, is all."

  He could not give up, not yet.

  "Come on, let's get our shit out of the trunk," said Noah. "The fat lady ain't singing yet."

  "Whaddya mean?" asked Holly.

  "Well, we've come all this way. We might as well see it through to the end, don'tcha think?"

  If Holly thought he was just crazy she didn't say anything. She looked a little puzzled, but there was more to her look. The last glimmer of hope, maybe?

  And then she full-on grinned. "Sure. Why not? MacMillan might be a dead end, no pun intended, but he might know something, right?"

  "Right!" replied Noah, his hand already on the door handle. "MacMillan might not be the vampire, but whoever attacked you was wearing his uniform and driving his car. He has to know Micah. C'mon."

  It was a slim hope at best, but a slim one was better than nothing. Noah pulled an old leather bag he had brought with him from the house. Inside, there was rope and a hunting knife. He tossed in the silver goblet they had bought at Mamaw's, but just looked at the sword, undecided. After a moment's pause, he handed the sword to Holly.

  "I hope we don't need this, but you should take it, just in case."

  "Okay."

  Noah closed the trunk carefully. There was no point drawing attention to themselves, not any more than a fiery red Alfa and a beautiful girl with a samurai sword had done already.

  They walked quickly and were almost there when an elderly lady carrying a fat cat in her arms stepped out on her porch. She set the animal down, but when she straightened up again, she peered at them suspiciously over the pearl-rimmed glasses.

  "Umm, is there something I can I help you people with?"

  They both froze in their tracks, and Holly held the sword close to her leg, hiding it from view.

  "Good afternoon, neighbor," said Holly brightly. "Have you ever considered surrendering all your worldly possessions and giving your burden-free soul to Our Lord, Jesus Christ?"

  The old lady scooped up her corpulent kitty, retreated inside and slammed the door shut.

  Holly grinned.

  "Well played," said Noah. "Come on, let's get off the street."

  In no time at all, they were at the MacMillan house. Noah hot-footed up the drive, and just as they were supposed to turn to the front door, Noah bolted to the side of the house, with Holly seconds behind him.

  They stood tight up against the siding, out of view of any of the windows.

  "Let's hope he doesn't have video surveillance," whispered Noah, looking up at the guttering for any sign of cameras.

  "Or any more nosy neighbors," agreed Holly.

  Noah edged slowly up to a window and strained to look inside. Nothing. Just an empty formal sitting room. Holly took the initiative and slipped commando style to the next window.

  "He's here," whispered Holly.

  This time Noah slipped under the window and inched up on the opposite side of the frame. Holly indicated the coast was clear, so he stole a quick glance.

  MacMillan was in the kitchen. He had his back to them as he took plates from a cabinet. There was a gun in its holster on the kitchen island. Noah pointed to it, made a pretend gun with his forefinger and thumb, and Holly nodded.

  "Shit," she said, her hand covering her heart. "This is a crazy idea."

  "Yes it is," agreed Noah. "But what choice do we have?"

  Holly thought for a second, but nodded softly. "None. Don't mind me. I'm okay. I just don't like guns."

  "Just remember, they might sting, but bullets won't kill you. You're already dead."

  Holly grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "So long as you remember, you're not, okay?"

  It was Noah's turn to nod.

  "Ready?" he whispered.

  "Yes."

  “Let's go round the back,” he mouthed, pointing with his finger.

  Holly nodded, and watchful of other windows, the two hurried unhindered around to the back of the house as they sought another way inside. He stopped at a set of French doors and pushed the handle slightly, hoping against hope that a cop had been lax enough to leave part of his house unlocked.

  The door opened with just the quietest whoosh. Thank God for provincial security. The room they were in was a formal dining room. Strange, it was lit only by a long fish tank that ran from one end of the table to the other. It was populated by lots of different colored exotic fish of varying shapes and sizes.

  "That's pretty," whispered Holly. "Though I would never put it on the dining room table."

  "Shhh," whispered Noah. "C'mon. Get your sword ready, just in case."

  Holly removed the sword from its scabbard and held it high and to her side. "I'm sweating," she whispered.

  "So am I." Noah put his forefinger to his lips. “Keep quiet,” he mouthed.

  Holly nodded.

  They passed through the room, and Noah carefully pushed the door open a fraction. It creaked. They both froze and stood listening. Noah's pulse was racing, and he knew hers would be, too. But all was silent.

  Noah took a deep breath. His focus was so intense, just as it was before he shifted into the wolf. If he wasn't careful, that could happen, and he worked hard to steady his heart which tottered on the brink of change. He pushed the door a little more. This time, it didn't creak at all.

  The hallway was clear and led off to a series of open rooms separated only by a series of walls. There was a broad staircase just to the left of the front door, which was dead ahead of them.

  Noah stepped nervously out into the hall. He could hear Holly's breathing, and worse, his elevated wolf senses could smell her fear. If they were close to Micah, perhaps he would smell it too.

  Too close even to whisper, Holly pulled on his shirt for attention, then pointed to the wall. He nodded. The next turn had to be the kitchen. He was about to spring forward when Holly tugged even harder. He turned, and with a cheeky wink, Holly slipped in front of him.

  “No!” he mouthed, shaking his head vehemently.

  Holly pointed to herself and the sword, indicating she wanted to go first since she was armed. Noah didn't like it one bit and would have argued, but she didn't give him a chance to.

  She paused, just for a second, with her back flat against the last inch of drywall. She held the sword high. Her hand wasn't shaking. Brave girl. She inhaled deeply, then after nodding her head three times, she turned t
he corner.

  Holly froze. She turned quizzically to Noah and shook her head.

  Noah looked around the corner. She was right. The room was empty, and the gun was no longer on the island.

  From somewhere in the house above them, they heard a faint creak and then the flush of a toilet. So he had moved upstairs.

  "What do we do now?" whispered Holly.

  "Follow him upstairs."

  "No," said Holly. "We'd be sitting ducks on those big stairs. A sword won't help either of us against bullets."

  She had a point.

  "Maybe we should hide and wait for him to come down?" she suggested.

  Noah nodded. They both looked about. Then Holly walked tentatively along, looking for a place they could reasonably be concealed.

  Holly slipped into a room on her left, and Noah followed silently after her. They were in a family room that had more French doors leading into another room in the annex. It looked like a study. But the room was full of sofas and chairs, plenty of places to hide behind. Holly crouched down behind a sofa. Noah followed her in, and, finding a spot behind an over-sized armchair, did the same. He could just see her from his hiding place, and they exchanged nervous glances.

  There were footsteps on the staircase.

  Noah crouched lower, held his breath, and prayed.

  MacMillan was coming down the stairs.

  Alive or undead, Holly's heart thundered against her ribcage as sweat formed on her brow. She stole a glance at Noah, who looked ready to pounce. He was so brave, and his bravery filled her with more terror than the cop did with the gun. No way was she going to let him die for her. No way.

  MacMillan was downstairs now. She could see his reflection in the hall mirror. He was heading their way, a glass of water in one hand while he read a paper in the other. And if she could see him, he could see her. All MacMillan had to do was glance a certain way and it would be all over. For both of them. Bang bang. Game over. Done.

  Oh shit, he's coming this way! Holly grasped the samurai sword steady in her hand and held her breath. Her eyes were transfixed on the mirror. There was no sign of the gun now, but it might be concealed in MacMillan's pants somewhere. She was poised, sword now clasped in both hands, ready to spring. He was almost here....