“I haven’t saved her yet,” he whispered.
9
BRADEN
The wait at the ticket desk was a disappointment. It was bad enough the scheduled return flight that he booked for Liz had been cancelled, but the short sweaty man beside him in the tracksuit repeatedly bumped his elbow into Braden’s side, raising his level of agitation.
The terminal buzzed with activity, sending surges of chaotic sounds and smells into Braden’s amplified system. His fists clenched at his side while working to keep a calm expression. Between his hunger and dread, his patience had found its limit.
Braden placed his focus on the ticket agent in front of him. The middle-aged woman chewed her lower lip, staining her two front teeth with waxy pink lipstick. Her eyes searched the screen in front of her as her fingers tapped the keyboard.
“Anything?” he hoped.
After a moment, she shook her head. “The closest flight is in eighteen hours.”
Braden looked at Liz sitting wearily on her suitcase off to the side of the line. She still didn’t know he wouldn’t be returning with her. He hoped when it was time for her to board, she would just understand that this was something he needed to do on his own. Having her with him on the flight was more than pleasant. He liked Liz a lot and wanted her to have fond memories of him.
After paying for the transaction, he asked, “Is there a hotel nearby that you can recommend with vacancies this time of year?”
He didn’t want to make Liz stay in the airport for eighteen hours. They could grab a bite to eat, take a shower, and sleep for a while. His pulse quickened at the thought of spending more time with her until he had to meet the others. Strangely, her company was a relief. Although he was muscled into bring her, he didn’t regret it.
Yet anyway...
The woman skimmed him with her flat brown eyes. “You’ll need to go to the information desk about that,” she replied blandly. The pulse in her neck caught his attention, its unsteady rhythm indicative of low blood pressure. As much as he wanted to tell her off, he just couldn’t.
The sweaty guy jabbed him in the ribs. Angered, Braden glared down on him ready to explode. The man’s bushy eyebrows were raised questioningly, “The Fairmont is downtown. You and your little lady friend can follow me to the sky train station if you want.”
Braden glanced across to Liz. She smiled up at him, appearing relieved he was done in line. He could feel his own irritability subside in response to her.
The bald man’s sight trailed to Liz. He fixed his dark eyes on her as she bent over to gather her things. The guy stunk of salami and stale cigarettes, a vile combination.
Braden could hear him breathe quicker as he gawked at her. His fat tongue darted out of his mouth and over his cracked lips. “We’ll have to hurry, check out was an hour ago and the rooms fill quickly.”
Braden considered their options. They could spend another two hours waiting in line at the information desk, spend the next eighteen hours in the terminal, or follow the little pig to a descent hotel. “Okay.”
The midday sun was piercing when they stepped out onto the busy row of cars swerving in and taking off with their passengers. The short man led them down the walkway, his lumpy body moving like a sea of marbles under the beige and maroon polyester.
Braden scanned the area around him. He knew the others couldn’t be out in the daylight, but with Liz by his side, he was extra cautious.
The brunette walked beside him with such confidence. He wasn’t sure where it came from – the ability to fit in with her new surroundings so naturally. Although Liz had insisted the night before that she had traveled all over the world to see her father, when her passport was collected, he noticed it hadn’t been stamped.
How often does she really see her dad?
They crossed the street to the covered walkway where the Canada Line Station had a small grouping of anxious passengers waiting for the next train to pull in.
Rubbing his palms over his chest, the man nodded to the ticket machine on the back wall. “What you say we make a little deal?” His forehead beaded with sweat as he continued staring at Liz.
Braden’s eyes narrowed. “What deal?”
Pulling out his wallet, he mumbled, “How about I pay for the tickets if you and your friend here come back to my room when we get to the Fairmont?”
“And?” Liz questioned, her expression tightening.
The salami guy licked his lips again, unaware of the disgust fueling beneath Braden’s skin. Glancing around to make sure no one was listening, he stammered, “And let me watch the two of you together.”
Liz looked like she had swallowed something sharp as she replied, “You even look at me one more time and I will sneak into your room and castrate you tonight.”
Excited by her threat, the man smirked and grabbed her wrist. “You can’t do anything.”
Braden couldn’t hold back his teeth from extending through his gums and the icy feeling of his eyes shifting to their pure white. He wanted to tear open the slob’s throat and let him bleed out on the asphalt.
About to step forward, Liz blocked his way. Her small foot shot out and kicked the guy in the knee. Yanking her wrist away, she sent her elbow into his gut.
“Back off creeper, or next time I will hurt you,” she hissed.
Rubbing his side, the beady eyed man glared at her. He was about to say something else when he directed his heedful stare to Braden. When their eyes made contact, his expression blanched. With a quick intake of breath, knowledge spilled across his blotchy face. Fearing he was about to be torn in half, his bladder let go, staining the front of his track suit. An airy squeak passed his lips before turning to flee.
“Okay,” said Liz unhappily, her complexion flushed. “That’s enough of that jerk.” Looking up at Braden, her forehead crinkled. “Wipe that look off your face.”
Braden began to half-pull, half-push her to the edge of the platform. “We need to go before he comes back.”
“Wait,” she said. Liz glanced at the faceless people huddled in small groups talking amongst themselves or on phones as they waited for the train. “No one even saw and we have to get our tickets.”
Braden’s agitation was still droning through him. His blood pounded in his ears and his skin felt taut against his tightening muscles. Knowing the creep put his disgusting paws on her made him livid.
“I need to get away from him or I’ll kill him.” He hated admitting it, especially to himself, but he had come too far to lose his humanity now.
Liz placed her hand on Braden’s shoulder. Her hazel eyes met his, holding him in place. “It’s okay. I held my ground.”
Braden swallowed back his anger, forcing his fangs to recede. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said honestly.
“I’m tougher than I look. He isn’t the first one to pull a stunt like that and I know how to hit back.” Her beautiful smile was confident, but her adrenaline left a slight tremble she was trying to mask.
He could see she was a fighter, but still worried. “There are real monsters in this world. You won’t always get away that easily.”
Glancing down at her, he wished she understood how fragile she was. If he had any sense, he would bring her back to the terminal and stay at her side until she was safely aboard the next flight. But as she glanced around like nothing even happened, he couldn’t help but do as she asked. He wanted a chance to make her time spent with him worth something. Hopefully, before the clock struck his last hour.
Turning to the ticketing machine, he slid his credit card in, and purchased two passes for the train. As the machine clicked and purred, he hoped he wasn’t being a complete idiot.
Passing on a stay at the Fairmont, Braden spotted a small motel with a flashing neon vacancy sign only fifteen minutes from the airport. Although the Thunderbird Motel looked older than the earth with its thread bare carpets and avocado green furnishings, it was clean and the attendant at the front desk didn’t ask questions whe
n Braden checked in with cash. With his backpack over his shoulder and Liz’s suitcase in the other hand, he led her through the courtyard, past the kidney shaped pool, and to their room at the end of the long building.
Braden ran the key card across the motel door and stepped into the air-conditioned room. He didn’t mind the cool air, but hoped Liz would be comfortable. She shuffled in behind him, her eyes wide with surprise when she spotted the sole king sized bed. He could almost read her mind as she bit on her lower lip, her tired face showing a hint of alarm.
“I don’t sleep,” he explained. “You can have the bed, while I rest by the window.” Pointing to the small table and chair, at least he could guard her from the door while she slept.
As she glanced warily around the shared space, he knew Liz would have preferred a private room for the evening, but he just couldn’t bring himself to sit alone for the next eighteen hours. Not when he could take comfort from her presence.
Besides, she might take off before I send her back to Maine.
“Well, this is a first.” Liz dropped her bag on the bed and sat down. “As long as you never tell anyone we shared a motel room for the night,” she kidded. A slight flush stained her cheeks. Breaking eye contact, she glanced down at her nails. The polished tips were painted black like her hair.
“Are you hungry?” He watched her carefully, afraid she might change her mind and leave.
“I could eat,” she smiled. “Do you want to order in while I take a shower? I just want to get out of these clothes.” She tugged on her black cargo pants that were adorned with strange zippers and buckles.
Braden resisted the urge to smirk. “Sure.”
If Teagan was here, this conversation would be taken differently.
After ordering a Pizza, Braden forced himself to sit instead of pacing mindlessly around the room. He tapped his fingers on the arm rest, trying to release some of his pent up anxiety.
It was still surreal that he made the call and was told to go to Vancouver. He had imagined facing his death in the old country or down south where nests were rumored to exist, not in British Columbia, the land of winter recreation and the former Olympics.
Braden didn’t want to come here; there was still so much left unfinished. Even after making the call and coming to terms with what needed to be done, he wasn’t sure how his life made a difference in the world. Now that his last moments were winding down, he hoped that once he was gone, his family could move on.
Braden listened to Liz move around the bathroom. Even with the rhythmic hum of the shower spray, he could hear her soft voice rise and fall lightly as she sang. Although her iPod held songs that belonged to bands whose fan base belonged in mosh pits, he was pretty sure she was singing something by Katy Perry. Despite the growing disquiet in the pit of his stomach, the odd girl made him smile.
It was ironic that he found someone he could fall for now that his life had boiled down to mere minutes. From across the lawn yesterday, he heard Liz insist to Lexie that he wasn’t her type. At first he felt the same way, but after spending time alone with her, more than just her smell and touch appealed to him.
Liz’s quirky humor and the softness behind her independence lured him in. Life fascinated her, and she was fearless about facing it. Strong, inquisitive, and passionate about topics that interested her – she was as mysterious as she was straightforward.
It was okay that she didn’t find him attractive; just being with her for his last day was enough. Closing his eyes, he imagined how amazing it would have been to dream of Liz and to become her fate-partner the way Lexie and Torin did. With Liz’s spunk, he would have been able to let go of his past and start living.
What would happen when he died? Would he be reborn into his family or would he find his way through the afterlife? With all of the stories and legends that encompassed his ancestry, very little was said about the death of a damphyr.
As he sat in stillness, his memories took him back to when he was just ten years old. His boarding school in Nova Scotia had been his home for three months when one cold November evening he was sitting alone on his bed after lights-out had been called. With his cousins asleep in their private rooms just down the hall, he had stayed awake reading when his young ears first heard a distinguishable thump outside his third floor window.
At first he thought it was an owl, or perhaps a bat, losing its direction and flying into his window. Then a scratching sound grated against the glass. Trying to swallow back his fear, he hurriedly reached out to shut his bed side lamp off. Fighting his instincts to run, he forced himself to stay put and pretend to sleep. After a while the scraping ceased and he chastised himself for being a baby – but not for long.
Suddenly, the window sill rattled and squealed as it shot up. Braden froze to his bed, his small chest hammering beneath the covers. Very slowly, he peeled back the fleece blanket that hid his face. Edging up on his elbows, he peered into the darkness at the figure bending and twisting its way through the opening.
His lips parted, but he couldn’t make a sound. As the shape slid forward on the floor and rose up beside him in the bed, painfully familiar eyes burrowed from dark sockets deep into his own.
A rapid knock at the door startled Braden from his recollection. He tried swallowing, his throat burned with hunger. The memory of that night still unnerved him. It wasn’t the last time he had been visited by the fiend at school, but it was the only time he had actually seen him. He had been there two more times, leaving notes in his room to serve as reminders of how his life could end at any time.
Just last spring, the night before graduating from his final year – the creature came to leave behind a number where he expected to be reached.
All three times, the same instructions were forced upon him. He was to come forward after his eighteenth birthday: he wasn’t to wait, he wasn’t to make excuses. If he didn’t do as instructed, then the draugr would meet him in Erris.
Braden pulled himself into a standing position and moved carefully to the door. Through its aluminum plating, he could smell the sickening stench of cooked meat and tomatoes. His nose burned, the delivery man didn’t smell much better. Counting to ten, Braden pushed back his desire to feed, before opening the door. How he could think of blood at this point was incomprehensible.
With the smell of pizza wafting through the room, Liz emerged from the bathroom. She shook her raven tresses loose from the towel, filling the room with her lovely vanilla scent.
Her black cargos and tank had been replaced with a koi fish tee and cotton shorts. He hadn’t expected her to look so different without her custom eyeliner and smoky shadow, but her creamy skin was flawless. The green tint in her hazel eyes stood in contrast to the richness of her dark hair.
“You ordered pizza. You must be a mind reader or something. It’s perfect.” As she dragged her round brush through her curls, she smiled up at him. Once again, Braden was stunned with just how truly beautiful she was.
It was a shame he would never tell her.
10
LIZ
Liz’s belly rumbled in response to the delicious scent of pizza. Opening the box, her eyes feasted on a pie covered with melted cheese, sausage and caramelized onions. Not having eaten since the plane, she was thankful Braden thought to order something for her.
“How did you know these were my favorite toppings?” she asked while nibbling on a round piece of meat.
“When I used to eat cooked food, it was my favorite,” he replied with an easy smile. “It was a guess.”
Liz glanced around the room. It didn’t appear Braden ordered anything for himself. She watched him closely, noticing the subtle tension behind his expression. She hoped he felt okay.
Maybe he’s hungry?
For a brief second Liz questioned if he was safe to be alone with, but dismissed the thought as soon as it entered her mind. Braden could be dangerous, but there was a part of her that inherently knew she was safe.
“So, you said you don
’t eat foods that have been cooked. Is there something we can get you to eat tonight other than blood?” She tried sounding practical and unfazed by his dietary needs, but the words felt funny as they passed her lips.
Braden turned his sultry blue eyes on her and just smiled without saying anything. She couldn’t help but flush under his gaze. Warmth spread through her, sending little tingles down her spine.
“They might have some trail mix outside in the vending machine or something,” she mumbled.
“I’m not hungry,” he replied, still watching her.
She bit into her pizza. The oozing cheese had lost its appeal, but she needed to stop noticing how attractive Braden was in his distressed jeans and Abercrombie tee shirt. It was funny how the more time she spent with him, the more desirable she found him. He wasn’t even her type.
I can admire him just for tonight, but tomorrow, back to business.
“So, what do you do when you’re not chasing werewolves?” she asked, opening her can of Mt. Dew. “Does your family hang out with other damphyrs?”
“We try to stay under the radar. The only other damphyrs are our elders in Eire.” Braden sat as still as a statue in the chair, but his impassioned stare left her unnerved.
Liz shook her head, trying to understand. “So your ancestors are the only family of half-vampires, ever?”
“There was once a good sized family of them in Southeastern Europe who had settlements mostly in Greece and Turkey.” He stared at her mouth as she carefully chewed. “My relations made contact with them – but they were hunted down to extinction over two hundred years ago. Their origin was a bit different than our own, but essentially we were the same. They didn’t drink from humans either.”
Liz couldn’t help but detect the note of sadness in his voice. What was it like to be so different?
She thought of her own life, being abandoned by her mother and sent away by her father. She never felt like she was a part of the typical nuclear family with a mom, dad and 2.5 children. Instead, she struggled to play catch up with her friends who had parents and siblings, even a childhood home. She pretended to relate to those things, but never did. Perhaps as a damphyr, Braden had to do the same thing.
Blood Twist (The Erris Coven Series) Page 4
