She rode in the car for what seemed like hours, jostling along, feeling warm and content. Billy was keeping her safe. He handed her a bottle of water. “Drink this for me, love. Every single drop, okay?”
She opened the lid and took a sip, wrinkling her nose. “It doesn't taste good.”
Billy smiled. “I know, love, but you need it. It’ll keep you healthy. Especially after the baby. Drink it for Onyx. Drink it for me.” He glanced at her in the rear view mirror and she became enchanted all over again. She put the bottle to her lips and swallowed the bitter brew down. She shuddered at the taste and shook her head at the ringing in her ears.
“My head hurts,” she whispered, rubbing her forehead slowly.
“I'm sure, love. You must be so tired. Lay your head back and rest.” He expertly drove through the streets. “Close your eyes, love.”
***
Jeremy winced as he stepped from the dusky elevator to the bright hospital floor. He watched the nurses and doctors scramble around in panic, ignoring them all until he saw Trevor running up to the nurse's station. He jogged over to his friend. “What's going on, man?”
Trevor wouldn't meet his eyes. “We have a situation.”
“What do you mean, we have a situation?” He grabbed Trevor by the front of the shirt, pulling him in close to his face. “What is the situation, Trevor?”
“Sasha and Onyx are gone.” Trevor paled as Jeremy's eyes flashed.
“Gone?” he choked out. “They’re gone?” He let go of Trevor's shirt and stumbled back against the nurse's station, a peculiar shade of gray settling on his agonized face. He clawed at his hair and whispered, “Weren't you with them?” Trevor shook his head and Jeremy paled further. “Oh fuck, Trevor. Where did they go?” Tears filled his eyes. “God damn it, Trevor.” His mouth twisted cruelly. “I knew I should have never trusted you with this.” He hissed out a breath.
Trevor touched his arm. “Jeremy, I just stepped away for a second.”
Jeremy turned to him, his canines extending. “I told you to stay with her.” He ground out each syllable slowly.
“Jeremy, calm down. We’ll find them.” Trevor swallowed nervously. “I didn't mean for this to happen. I thought she was safe. I swear.”
Jeremy smiled slowly, cracking his neck. “We are done.”
Trevor touched his arm. “Jeremy, you need to calm down.”
He shook his head. “It's too fucking late to calm down, Trevor. Stick the God damned company up your ass as far as it can go. I hope it chokes you. Buy me out, I'm done. Put it all in my offshore account. You have twenty-four hours, or I'll hunt you down and relish the last breaths you take.” He turned abruptly and walked down the hall.
“Damn you, Jeremy! Don't walk away from me! Where are you going?” Trevor jogged to catch up with him and put his hand on his shoulder.
Jeremy shoved him abruptly, the sound of Trevor's head hitting the tile floor as he fell a gruesome pleasure. “I'm going to get what's mine and finish something that should’ve been done a long time ago.”
Trevor sat up and rubbed his head, wincing as Jeremy stepped onto the elevator and hit the button. Trevor stood quickly and stumbled to the doors that were sliding shut. He looked into Jeremy's eyes for a split second. “Be safe, brother.”
Jeremy's full lips twisted, his dark eyes cold. “Fuck you.” The doors closed and he rode silently to the first floor.
As the elevator came to a stop, he took a slow breath. He walked out into the lobby and moved briskly through the people milling around. His hand touched the cold brass bar of the glass door and he pushed it open, breathing deeply of the fresh air that tantalized his nostrils.
He ran his hand through his hair, mussing it worse than it already was. He breathed deeply again and he swore he could taste her on his tongue. He shook his head and took off at a brisk pace down the sidewalk. God damn it. I shouldn't have left. I shouldn't have trusted him. Fuck. He picked up his pace, moving now at a jog. He kept his head down and moved quickly past the stragglers on the sidewalk. The sun filtered through the trees, shining on the last scraps of the day. He needed to find somewhere to make a plan.
He came to a Starbucks and slipped inside. The aroma of coffee tickled his nose and he ignored it. He didn't need human edibles at this point. Finding Sasha was more important. He sat at a table and pulled Francois' phone from his pocket. Inhaling a slow breath he hunched forward, leaning his leather jacket-clad elbows on the Formica table. I can't call the cops. I’m a wanted man. I can't fucking trust Trevor. Maybe it was an accident, but shit, he promised me he wouldn't leave her. Who can I trust if I can't trust him? He closed his ebony eyes and leaned against the metal back of the chair. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. She's not going to be at the main compound. I need to know where the others are. Where better to start than the main nest of fleas? He stood abruptly, knocking over the chair in his haste, and walked back out of the Starbucks, moving like lightning up the sidewalk. He needed something fast and small to get him around the countryside. His eyes scanned the street as he walked, finally lighting on a young man and a motorcycle. He jogged quickly to the boy.
“You there, I need your help.” He fought against the urge to simply snap his neck and take what he wanted. Sasha would be none too pleased, and he frankly didn't need any more murders on his hands. He ground his teeth as he stepped closer and he pulled Sasha's credit card from his wallet. “I'll give you this card, which has access to any funds I have, which is a very great sum, if you give me your motorcycle. It will buy you anything you want, and I encourage you to use it. I'll even give you this phone.” He put Francois' iPhone in the boy's hands.
The young man looked at him in confusion. “I – I don't understand. Why don't you buy your own if you have money?”
Jeremy smiled, his canines protruding viciously. “Because, kid, I'm a bad man and I don't want people to know where I am. Take the card. Spend whatever you want. It's yours. You never saw me and you never met me. Do you understand?”
The boy paled visibly and nodded quickly. “I understand. Just don't hurt me.”
Jeremy threw his leg over the motorcycle and started it. “I won't. Go. Don't forget, boy, we never met.” He pulled out into the street on the cycle. He glanced quickly over his shoulder at the boy, who stood on the sidewalk looking at the card and phone in amazement. Pathetic kid.
Truthfully, he needed to be rid of the phone so he couldn’t be tracked, just as he needed to be rid of the credit card. He’d feed where he could, when he could, and steal for gas money if needed. He wanted no one to know where he was or when he'd attack. The fewer trails he left, the better. He wove through traffic, gunning the motorcycle. It purred under him and he drove straight for Claudio's compound.
As he neared the mansion, he cut the engine and wheeled the cycle into some bushes along the road. He slipped slowly along the stone wall surrounding the compound. They were meant to keep humans out, not paranormals, although most had enough tact to use the gate. I'm not here for a little afternoon tea, he smirked to himself as he found a small chip in the expansive wall. It was just enough for him to wedge his foot into. He jammed his sneaker into the slot and levered himself up. He placed his palms flat on the top of the wall and quickly swung himself over before dropping to the ground silently and slipping behind a large bush. He simply waited and watched for a few moments, hunting his prey. He'd noticed that since he'd been drinking a lot of blood, his werewolf senses as well as his vampire ones had become stronger. There was a scent of blood coming from inside the house; an acrid, metallic scent that made his throat ache. He let out a small breath of relief when he didn’t smell Sasha's blood. For the moment, she was either safe, or simply not there.
He slid through the bushes, more shadow than man and his feet barely skimmed the earth as he moved. As he drew close to the door, he felt his muscles tighten. He cracked his neck and ran hard and fast for the door, his left shoulder hitting the wood first. It exploded in a milli
on pieces as he barreled through. Skidding to a stop on the slick wooden floors, he opened his mouth in a sick laugh. “Claudio, I'm here to take back what's mine.”
He waited for a few moments, the silence of the house echoing in his ears. He moved through the first floor of the house, finding no signs of life and walked back to the pleasure room in confusion. There were no sounds of pleasure, no wildly beating hearts. Just an intense smell of blood that had become cloying in its sweetness.
He swallowed and touched the knob. As he flung the door open, bile rose in his throat. The room was the scene of a massacre. Both humans and vampires had been slain, and their blood mingled on the walls. Vampire brethren were missing heads and their hearts had been ripped out. They had blackened and shriveled up in the macabre crimson tide on the floor. Human bodies were rigid and beginning to swell as they rotted, their jugulars ripped out and hanging. One pair was still in a sexual position, the young man's blue eyes bugged out in terror, and his vampire partner's head missing. Jeremy backed up in revulsion, leaning against the wall as he threw up violently. He wiped his mouth and glanced into the room one more time, looking for Claudio. He wasn’t there.
“So, the fucking plot thickens,” he whispered, wiping a shaking hand across his brow. He walked back to the front of the house and ran up the stairs, checking each room, listening for any sound of life, be it vampire or human. Every room he came to was much of the same, blood sprayed on the walls and vampires dead. He chewed his bottom lip as he walked the floor. “This makes no sense. Why are they all dead?”
He walked back down the stairs, his hand trailing along the bannister. He opened the door into the basement and couldn't take the first step. The stink of human excrement and death enveloped him. He strained his ears to listen as he held his breath. There was no life in that basement that was certain. He closed the door quickly and walked back to the kitchen. He leaned against the kitchen island and tapped his fingers against the cool tile. I have to do something…I can't just leave them here to be found. Fuck. He tapped his fingers faster as he tried to think. An idea clicked. He walked over to the door that led outside and walked to the garage, praying to all that was good in the world that he'd find what he needed.
As he searched the ramshackle garage, he came up empty on finding a can of gas. He leaned back against the black Jaguar the garage housed and tapped his fingers on the slick exterior as he pondered. He spotted a length of water hose and a bucket and picked the pieces up, before finding the gas cap on the car. He unscrewed it quickly and fed the hose down into the tank, until he heard a splash, indicating that there was gas inside the car. He wrapped his lips around the hose and sucked, creating a makeshift suction to drain the tank. He dropped the hose quickly into the bucket and spat to no avail. The bitter, acrid taste of gasoline permeated his tongue and nose but the gas trickled smoothly into the bucket. When it slowed and eventually came to a stop, he picked the bucket up and walked back across the yard in the cool of twilight.
He walked back into the kitchen and the smell of rot and blood overwhelmed him again. He splashed gasoline up on the cabinets and searched for a lighter. There was a box of matches shoved in a drawer behind an excessive number of knives, and he spotted a very nice pocket knife with a large, jagged blade and pocketed that for later. He left a slow dribble of gasoline behind him as he walked room to room. In a bedroom he spotted a pistol on a nightstand and picked it up, smiling when he realized it was loaded. Bending to check the drawer of the nightstand, he shouted, “Yes!” as he found a wad of cash. Silly vampires, leaving things strewn about. He put on the safety of the pistol and jammed it in the waistband of his jeans and the cash in his pocket. The last of the gas was dumped on the bed and within a split second of tossing a match to it, the bed was engulfed in flames. He watched them lick down the sides, following the trails of gas he'd left. He moved quickly out of the room and back down the hall.
The smoke billowed out around him in great black clouds and he hid his nose in his jacket as he ran for the door. He leapt from the porch and tucked into a ball as he rolled across the grass then moved back to the bushes like a wraith in the night and watched as the house slowly caught flame. The fire licked down the walls, eating the ancient, dry wood inch by inch. He stood transfixed as the flames enveloped the entire building. The stench of cooking meat filled his nose and he retched into the bushes.
Finally satisfied that the flames had consumed the whole house, he walked out of the gate and slipped down the road to his hidden bike. The fire had lit the night sky with an amber glow and he needed no headlights for more than half a mile. The road was quiet; there would be no call to the fire department until the house was long gone. He sped along, finally flipping his headlights on. He drove as fast as the bike would go to get as far away as he could.
Sasha slept deeply, only waking to Billy shaking her. “Where am I?” she whispered, hysteria filling her voice. He touched her chin and looked deep into her eyes.
“Sasha, you’re safe with me. I've brought you home.”
“Okay,” she nodded. “Let's go inside.” She climbed slowly out of the car and Billy reached in to unbuckle Onyx. She watched as he bundled the newborn in his arms and carried her up the stone pathway to a sweeping porch attached to a huge brick mansion, surrounded on all sides by dense trees. Sasha moved quickly to stay close to him.
As they stepped up on the porch, he opened the front door with a flourish and stepped over the threshold, his shoes squeaking on the white linoleum. She stepped forward and closed the door behind her, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the total lack of light. “Come, love.” She could just make out his shape and reached forward with both hands to follow him, touching furniture as she walked in his direction.
“I can't see you,” she whispered, her throat burning. “I'm so thirsty.”
“Could you shut up? Keep walking toward me. You're going to have a visitor in a bit and you need to look your best, love.” His voice had lost the beautiful charm that had ensnared her. She shivered.
“Why are you being mean to me, Billy?” She stumbled over a wooden table leg and collapsed on the floor. She vaguely heard her daughter crying. “My daughter needs me. Please.” She reached up through the darkness, straining to find her child. As she clambered up on her knees, the fog lifted as she realized Billy was gone, and had taken her daughter with him.
She jumped to her feet and ran toward the only place he could have been. “Billy!” She stretched her fingers through the penetrating darkness. There was silence. She turned and moved back to where she believed the door to be. She came up empty-handed. There seemed to be nothing other than furniture and darkness. As she screamed in terror and fury, a blue glow illuminated her fingertips.
***
“Well done, Billy.”
Billy smiled, staring at Sasha in the dark. He cuddled Onyx in his arms and kissed her forehead, breathing in her sweet baby scent. “I’m glad you’re pleased, sir.”
The man nodded. “I’m very pleased. Everything is in place.” He reached his hand out and flipped a switch on the wall. Sasha screamed as a grating noise hit her ears. Onyx began to cry. “Give her to me, Billy. I want to watch Sasha crumble. I want to see just what she is made of.” He took the baby from Billy and they listened, in perverse pleasure, as she began to wail. Billy leaned forward to press a button on the computer in front of him, and a microphone turned on. They watched as Sasha froze in place.
“Don't hurt her! Please!” she screamed, trying to locate her daughter in the dark. The clamoring noise on top of the angry cries of the child seemed to throw her equilibrium off. She ran forward, tripping over another piece of furniture and fell headlong into the floor, her chin splitting open. She cried out in pain, but struggled back to her feet, running forward again. The din grew louder and it made her sob and run faster. She fell again, the sick crack of a bone snapping followed by a gasp filling the air. Her arm hung uselessly at her side and she bellowed. “Please, I'm begging you. Plea
se don't hurt her. Billy, where are you?”
Billy leaned against the wall in the silence of the chamber and pressed a shaking hand to his mouth. The man turned the microphone off finally and flipped the switch on the wall. The man dumped Onyx back into Billy's arms. “Toughen up, you pussy. You know why we’re doing this.”
He nodded. “Of course, I know why, but do we really have to put her through this torture? She's a good person.”
The man smiled malevolently. “She got mixed up in the wrong crowd. I mean, you know what they say: lay down with dogs, come up with fleas!” He laughed wickedly at his joke. “Get it, Billy? Because that bastard is part werewolf?”
Billy nodded and whispered, “I get it. The baby will need milk soon.”
The man nodded. “You can enchant her again, let her feed, then we’ll torment her again. I want to see her powers work again. Did you see the blue at the tips of her fingers? Ahh, to feel that kind of power!” The man sighed in apparent pleasure. “Torture is my favorite way to get what I want. She makes it so easy.” He waved a hand at Billy. “Go on, enchant her.”
Billy whispered, “Her arm is broken. She's bleeding.”
The man shrugged. “You aren't a nursemaid, you’re an enchanter. That’s the only reason the master gave you life. Enchant the bitch. Give her the brat, let it feed.”
Billy quivered in fear. “Okay.” He cradled the baby in his arms as he walked into the dusky room. He had no problem finding Sasha in the mess. He could smell nothing but her blood, and thirst overwhelmed him. He pressed his nose to the baby's scalp and breathed her newborn smell instead. “Sasha.”
He could see her as clearly as though she was lit from within. Tears coursed down her ashen face and she was quivering, sitting on the edge of a coffee table. He touched her cheek and she gasped. His finger probed into her gash on her chin and she hissed.
“Billy? Billy, is that you? Where is Onyx?” She stood quickly on wobbly legs, then collapsed back on the table.
Once Bitten, Twice Shy Page 9
