The Vampire Hunter's Daughter: Complete Collection

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The Vampire Hunter's Daughter: Complete Collection Page 12

by Jennifer Malone Wright


  “You killed my mother!” I spat at him.

  A couple walking by snapped their heads in our direction, and Trevor shushed me again.

  “I did not kill your mother. I wasn’t even there.”

  I shook my head in disgust. “Don’t lie! I heard Eli say you issued the order that she needed to die for taking me away from you.”

  He neither denied it, nor did he acknowledge my accusation. I figured his silence was probably because he knew it was true. He just strode off into the parking lot. He stopped when we got to a brand new black Mustang. He pulled out his keys, and I heard the locks disengage.

  “Get in,” he told me.

  I opened the door, threw my bag into the backseat and slid into the passenger seat. Trevor slid behind the wheel and started the engine.

  “Nice ride,” I told him.

  “You have no idea,” he replied as he pulled out onto road that led to the freeway.

  So off we drove, into the night and away from my family, away from my best friend, and away from the guy who had been everything to me since my mother’s death.

  Off we drove into the next chapter of my life.

  THE VAMPIRE HUNTER'S DAUGHTER

  PART V

  Living with Vampires

  The headlights glared off the dark, wet highway ahead of us. Trevor’s Mustang flew across the pavement at breakneck speed. I sat in the passenger seat, scared out of my wits and stared out the window into the blackness, just to avoid looking at him.

  It took about an hour to reach Trevor’s house. I tried to guess which house was his, but little did I know, it couldn’t be seen from the highway. Eventually, we slowed, and I realized the house was hidden down a small paved driveway, beyond a large iron gate, surrounded by trees. Well, it wasn’t even really a house… It was a freakin' mansion.

  We pulled into a brick driveway that circled a large fountain with stone fairies that danced around falling water. Lights in the bottom of the fountain created a magical glow for the dancing fairies.

  “Why is your house so big?” I asked him. I leaned over the seat to grab my duffel bag.

  He got out of the car and slammed the door. “A little extravagance never hurts,” he replied.

  “Okay.” I rolled my eyes and didn’t bother to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

  “Follow me.” He motioned for me to come with him.

  I slung my bag over my shoulder and followed him up the brick pathway to the French doors that served as the front entrance.

  “Welcome home,” he told me and flung the doors open.

  I spun around in a slow circle. Never in my life had I actually been inside a home as nice as his. The floors looked like they were white marble with black swirls. A gigantic chandelier hung directly above us, each delicate crystal glimmered and reflected the lights. Because of my new wonky vision, I could tell that every one of those crystals were real. Expensive Persian rugs were thrown over specific spots on the floors. To my left, I could see a large living room area, the couches and chairs were all smooth black leather that looked so comfy and soft.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  I looked at him like he was an idiot. “Seriously, do you even have anything here I can eat?” In my head I was thinking that he was going to offer me a big glass of blood or something.

  The corner of his mouth lifted in a semi grin.

  “Vampires do not require the sustenance humans require. We can, however, consume human food if we choose to. I also have human donors who live here. They must eat well in order to feed me well.”

  I wanted to barf. Human donors? “That is disgusting.”

  “You would rather I bring home an unsuspecting young girl and take her against her will?" He waved his hand in the air a bit. “I have tried that and found it distressing when I have to kill them because they can’t keep silent. The donors are here of their own free will, and I pay them more than enough. None of them will have anything to worry about for the rest of their lives. Come now.” He beckoned me again to follow him.

  I was still disgusted.

  “Alice!” he called out. Within seconds, a human girl with blond hair, who couldn’t have been much older than me, emerged from one of the rooms beyond where we stood.

  “What can I do for you tonight, Mr. Trevor?” At least she wasn’t wearing a degrading maid’s uniform. She had on a tee-shirt and jeans.

  “Alice, my daughter and I would like to have a late supper.”

  “Yes, sir.” Alice rushed off in the direction of what I assumed to be the kitchen.

  I was still so taken with the house and continued to look around. There were many pieces of art on the walls and shelves housed authentic-looking statues and vases. The only reason I knew they looked old was because we did a section on art history in school. The majority of the art on the walls were paintings of sunsets, sunrises and ocean scenes. The pinks, purples and oranges of the sunset and sunrise pictures contrasted the black and white decor, giving it warmth and color.

  Trevor watched while I examined the house. “Chloe, I hope that you will make yourself at home. This is all as much yours as it is mine.”

  I nodded trying to keep my expression blank.

  “Why don’t we take your bags up to your rooms?” He headed up the stairs. The stairs and the second floor were carpeted in white.

  Really, more white? For some reason, my one thought when I saw the white carpet everywhere was that it would be terribly hard to keep blood stains off of it.

  The walls upstairs were burgundy. Instead of paintings, the walls were accented with artistic photographs.

  “Did you take these pictures?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No. Most of these are daylight shots, so I couldn’t have taken them.” He stopped to examine the pictures, gazing longingly at one in particular of a farmhouse surrounded by lush green fields and large oak trees. “Although, they do remind me of what I am not able to experience.”

  He turned away, and we continued on until he paused at a set of double doors at the end of the hallway.

  “This is your suite.” He opened the doors with both hands.

  I passed through the doors and then stood in awe. The room we entered was a living area with couches and a television in the center. A desk was pushed up against one wall and there were about six book shelves along another wall, bulging with books. Across from the couches, tucked into the corner of the sitting area, was a small dining table with two cushioned chairs.

  The only thing I didn’t like about the room was that there were no windows to let the sunlight in.

  “This is your sitting room, and if you come this way,” he moved through an adjoining door, “this is your bed room.”

  I followed him into the bedroom. As soon as I saw the queen bed with a pewter frame and sheer curtains, I wanted to crawl in and go to sleep. The bedroom also had a flat screen television mounted on the wall.

  “This is amazing,” I told him. I continued to explore. I found a gigantic walk-in closet and an adjoining bathroom.

  “It is yours,” he told me.

  His words echoed loudly in my head: ‘You’re very important to me. You are my blood.’

  I just nodded. I didn’t want to be grateful to him. No matter what, I had to remember my mission. He had killed my mother. He was trying to buy me off, or it seemed like he was.

  Alice appeared in the doorway of the other room and cleared her throat. “Your supper is ready, Mr. Trevor.” She nodded my direction. “Miss Chloe.”

  I hadn’t realized she knew who I was. Trevor hadn’t bothered to introduce me.

  “We will be down momentarily.” Trevor dismissed her with a slight wave of his hand. He didn’t thank her, but what else should I have expected? She hurried out of the room. “Shall we eat?.”

  I wasn’t really hungry, but I figured it was best to eat to keep my energy up. I threw my bag onto the bed and followed him down to the dining room.

  Later, we sat across from e
ach other at the long dining table while Alice served us thick steaks, potato salad and corn on the cob. I picked at my food and stared down at my plate.

  What exactly should I talk about with a father I have never known and whose guts I hate? Maybe he was thinking something similar, because he didn’t say anything either, except to ask if I wanted some of the red wine he had uncorked and was pouring into the crystal wine glass beside his plate.

  I passed. I didn’t want to do anything that would cloud my thinking while I was around him.

  I didn’t trust him.

  I studied him while I messed around with my food. He was dark. Everything about him, except his skin, was dark. His hair, his eyes, his demeanor, all of it was just… black.

  “So, how old are you now anyway?”

  He tilted his head thoughtfully. “My mortal life was taken when I was twenty eight, the age which I will forever appear. As an immortal, I have lived nearly one thousand years.”

  I almost spit out my water. “Wow!”

  “Yes, it is a very long time to have lived.”

  Against my vow to loathe him, my interest was piqued. I wanted to know more. “How did you become a vampire?”

  He took another sip of his wine. “That is a story barely worth mentioning. It happened so long ago.”

  “I think it’s worth mentioning. You should tell me.”

  He shook his head. “Perhaps another time.”

  I shrugged and stabbed a piece of steak. “Whatever. If you would rather sit here and stare at each other, that’s fine with me.”

  “Chloe, you're being insolent.”

  I shrugged again and chewed my steak then took a big swig of water to wash it down.

  He leaned back in his chair, turning to the side so he could cross his legs. “I suppose, if it pleases you, I could tell you how I came to be who I am. Seeing as I am your father, it would not be a terrible thing for you know.”

  After another rather delicate sip of wine, he spoke. “I was born in the Balkans. My parents bore no other children. For most of my life, I stayed home with my parents and worked the land.

  “When I was twenty-two years, they both died from the sickness that had spread rapidly throughout our small community. Nothing could help them.”

  As much as I wanted to hate Trevor, the look of sadness on his face when he spoke of his parents made my heart wrench a little bit, I knew what it was like to lose the ones you love.

  “After their passing, I had no desire to keep our land. An inner anger I had not known before had surfaced. I wanted vengeance for something that could not have been helped. I wanted to kill people who had no part whatsoever in the spreading disease that took my parents. With this anger, I became a soldier and killed for the good our people.”

  I leaned forward and ate a few bites. This was actually a good story. Much better than I expected.

  “Eventually, the nobles of Italy hired foreign armies to fight for them. Their country had much wealth; however, their armies were miniscule. They were known mercenary soldiers, led by Condottieri. We were basically contract killers. Some called them soldiers of fortune.

  “Italy found war and blood. I reveled in it and fought my way into one of the highest-paid armies. Years passed and my soul hardened. Death and becoming a vampire are not what made me the way I am. It was life that made me a killer.”

  He paused for another sip of wine, then continued. “One night, in the calm between battles, I stood on the cliffs and looked down at the black sea. Below, I saw a woman who sat on a lower cliff, letting the spray of the waves rain down upon her white gown. I called out to her, telling her to remove herself or she would be drowned when the tide came in. Still, she sat on the cliff, staring out at the waters.”

  “She was a vampire!” I guessed.

  “If you want to hear my story, be silent.”

  I shut my mouth, because I did want to hear it.

  “Frustrated with the idiot woman, I climbed down the cliffs to retrieve her. I was a hardened soul, but I wasn’t going to stand by and watch a woman be taken by the sea for her stupidity.

  “When I arrived on the cliffs below, I bellowed at her that very thing ordered her to climb back up the cliffs with me.

  "When she turned and looked into my eyes, I saw the most beautiful woman, perhaps aside from your mother, that I’d ever seen. Her face was pale as ivory and hair dark as the rolling sea beneath her.

  “She stood and said softly to me, ‘Have no fear for my life, sir.’ I felt entranced by her beauty, though my harsh words continued to flow freely from my lips. She took a few steps toward me, and I reached out to grab her by the arm and drag her back to the top of the cliffs with me.”

  He shook his head, remembering his frustration with the woman. “As I clamped my hand around her arm, she had me in her arms quicker than lightning, as I have no memory of how I got there. Her lips caressed my earlobe and whispered again ‘Have no fear.’

  "I felt the pierce of her fangs when she bit me; they drove deep into my neck. Her lips formed around the wound. The last thing I remember after screaming in fear until I was breathless was that it was the most amazing feeling I had ever encountered.

  “Ever since then, we traveled, and then I left her and traveled on my own. I built my power within the supernatural realm as well as the living, and killed to live instead of living to kill.”

  I fell back in my chair and pushed some hair out of my eyes. I didn’t want to feel sorry for him. I regretted asking him to tell me his story. I didn’t even know what to say to him.

  I set my fork down. “I’m tired. Can I go to bed, now?”

  “Of course.” He nodded and rose from the table. “Go on up to your room. If you require night clothes, you will find a few things in the armoire.”

  There was no way in hell I would wear anything he had gotten for me in anticipation of my being here.

  “Thank you.” I slid my chair out and rose to leave.

  “I feel I should warn you, there are guards all over the grounds. They will stop you if you attempt to leave.”

  Seriously? “So, I’m a prisoner, then?”

  His eyes were cold. “Only if you make yourself one.”

  “I understand,” I told him and marched out the door.

  What a freakin’ jerk.

  I should have known he wouldn’t let me have freedom. Well, to be fair, it seemed like I would have a little freedom, as long as I was on the grounds.

  Once upstairs, I put on my Harley shirt and sweatpants out of my bag and slid into them. I hadn’t worn the Harley shirt since the night my mother had been murdered. I wore it this night on purpose, because I needed it to bring back memories of her death. I had to stay focused on my goals. That's the only way this time with Trevor would be bearable.

  I pulled back the covers on the bed and slid beneath the cool sheets. Curling up into a ball, I pulled out my cell phone and turned it on. Immediately it buzzed that I had messages and texts. I checked them. There were four texts from Drew, two of them were of him yelling at me and demanding to know what the hell I was doing. Then the last one was him, finally, begging I come back or call him, anything.

  There were also several voice messages and texts from Gavin. His were all simply wondering why I had left, asking if I was in trouble, and asking me to call him as soon as I could.

  Tears slid down my cheeks and soaked the pillow. I sniffled and sighed, and then I turned off my phone. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t call them.

  I just couldn’t.

  When I woke, I couldn’t even tell if it was morning, because there were no windows to let in the light. I rolled over and looked at the clock. It was almost nine in the morning. I never, ever, slept that late. Even on vacation days from school or during the summer, I still woke up at the butt crack of dawn to go for my run and train.

  I pulled back the covers and sat up on the edge of the bed. I wondered what I was supposed to do all day. I assumed Trevor would be asleep, being a va
mpire and all. I picked out an outfit to wear and then hurried to the bathroom. After I’d showered and dressed in jeans and a plain black tee-shirt, I wandered into the sitting room and immediately smelled food. A quick glance around the room proved there was, to my surprise, an entire breakfast sitting on the little table in the corner of the room. On closer inspection, I saw an omelet, hash browns, a bowl of fruit, coffee and orange juice. My stomach rumbled, and I realized the long rest overnight had stirred up my appetite.

  “I hope you like it.”

  “Ahhhh!” I jumped back and reached for my gun—that wasn’t there—on instinct. When I realized it was Alice who had spoken, I put my hand on my heart and released a big sigh. “Jeez, Alice. You scared me!”

  “I’m so sorry.” She held out a little dish with toast on it. “Please, don’t tell Mr. Trevor I scared you so badly. I was just getting the toast off the cart over there.”

  I was still catching my breath from the scare. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell Mr. Trevor. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was just surprised; that’s all.” I pulled out the chair and sat. “Would you sit and have coffee with me?”

  She shook her head quickly. “Oh, no. I couldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Uhm… I just… I—I don’t think I’m supposed to. I’m just the help.”

  “Well you’re not just 'the help' to me.” I pointed at the chair across from me. “Sit,” I ordered.

  She smiled shyly and sat.

  “Well, now, that’s more like it.” I handed her the coffee mug and took the orange juice for myself. “Tell me about this place, Alice.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “I want to know everything. Do you like it here?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t really know much else any more."

  "How long have you been here?" I asked her.

  "Since I was thirteen.”

  I set my orange juice down so hard it sloshed over the sides. “Wow. And how old are you now?”

  “I am twenty two. Mr. Trevor found me sleeping in a rest room at a bus station. He asked me if I wanted a better life, asked what I was willing to give up for that better life. Then he brought me home.”

 

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