Twilight Vendetta

by Maggie Shayne

  Emma was an adrenaline junkie. The thrill of danger was her drug of choice. But this guy...he scared her a little bit.

  “You said you came to find me to tell me what had happened to Sheena and Wolf.”

  “Well I did.”

  “No, you didn’t. You were searching for us before they were shot. You were already in the area. You knew where to go because of the radio transmission. You were already there to observe what happened to them. What were you doing out on the ocean last night, Emma?”

  She nodded, lowered her head, but then picked it right up again and held his gaze. It wouldn’t do to appear weak. Besides, she wasn’t. “It’s true. I was trying to think of a way to locate you. I mean, not you, specifically, but you know, some of you. Your kind. I’ve been trying to make contact for a long time, to be honest.”

  “Why?” he asked again.

  “Last night? Last night all I wanted to do was warn you that DPI had had spotted the ship and was closing in.”

  “And you decided trying to drown yourself was the best way to do that?”

  She shot him a look and let her anger flash in her eyes. “When I saw what happened to those two kids, I knew I had to do something drastic. And I wasn’t trying to drown myself. I knew you would come.”

  “How could you know that?”

  She shrugged. “You always have, haven’t you? I’d be dead if you hadn’t.”

  His dark eyes narrowed. “Why were you looking for us to begin with?”

  Devlin didn’t like humans, and while he’d admitted he didn’t quite hate her, he sure as hell didn’t trust her. It was time, she decided. Time for the truth. She walked away from him, went to the Jeep, took the canvas bag from the back seat, and rifled around inside until she located the 3” oval frame she carried everywhere she went. It rested on every hotel room nightstand, hung on every cabin wall, and was propped prominently in every tent she slept in. She took a long, loving look at the photograph and then handed it to Devlin.

  He looked at the picture in the frame.

  “That’s my mother,” she said softly. “Her name is Diana Benatar. She became a vampire the night I was born. She’s been missing since I was twelve.”

  “Your mother was a vampire?” Bellamy asked, crowding up beside Devlin to look at the photo.

  “I’ve been looking for her for most of my life. Trying to learn more about who and what she was, and what happened to her.” She looked up at Devlin. His eyes were on her again, not the photo. “Have you ever seen her? Heard of her?” she asked.

  And she realized as she asked that she was dreading his answer. And then he fulfilled her fear by saying, “I’m sorry, Emma. But no. I’ve never seen her.” He handed the photo to Bellamy, who turned to show it to Tavia and Andrew. They each took a long look, but shook their heads sadly.

  “Damn.” Emma tried to blink back the tears that welled in her eyes.

  “You went to all this trouble to find us just to ask about her,” Bellamy said. “You must be so disappointed.”

  She shrugged. “It’s not the only reason,” she said softly, searching her soul deeply for a believable answer that would convince them to let her stick around, once she’d given them the map. They certainly wouldn’t need her help to rescue their friends. To her surprise, she found a very good answer waiting there. “I’m one of The Chosen. I’m twenty-seven. I figure I’ve got somewhere between twelve and fifteen years left to decide whether I want to die young or seek out...the Dark Gift, as your kind call it.” She used the term her mother had used for it. “I thought if I could spend some time with you, live among you for a while, it would help me make my decision.” It felt true. And she wondered if maybe it was, down deep, yet another reason for her lifelong pursuit of vampires and information about them. Not just for the ERFU blog, or the book she was writing to enlighten the world.

  Devlin stared at her as if he knew she still wasn’t telling him the entire truth. He also knew she was trying to block him from probing her mind. Maybe imagining brick walls around her brain was an effective method after all. She’d read it somewhere and decided it was worth a try.

  “So you were saying, about the island?” she asked, determined to change the subject.

  “I intended to rebuild a mansion out there, one day,” he said. “I bought it half a century ago, but the need never arose. And then it did, but we were exposed, and I was forced to flee the country.”

  “And now?” she asked.

  “It’s where I’ll begin to build our army for the coming war on the human race.”

  For a guy who didn’t trust her, Emma thought, he’d sure just revealed a whopper of a secret. Or maybe it was just that he didn’t intend to give her the chance to tell anyone else. Maybe this was one of those now that you’ve seen our island, you can’t leave here alive, scenarios.

  Being held prisoner by a beautiful body builder vampire didn’t seem all that terrible a fate to Emma...just as long as he kept his word to help her rescue her father, she’d stay on his damn island as long as he wanted.

  Chapter Five

  They liberated a rowboat from a deserted slip near the shore, and she sat facing Devlin as he manned the oars. The way the muscles in his powerful arms rippled with every stroke kept her eyes on him even when she told herself to look out at the dark ocean, starry sky, or barely visible shore. He was strong. He must’ve been strong even as a human. One of the bits of vampire lore she’d gleaned in her travels was that they didn’t change physically. If they cut their hair, it would grow back during the day sleep. If they were fat as humans, they’d stay fat as vampires, and so on. If that bit was true, then Devlin must’ve been a body builder in life.

  Did they even have body builders 157 years ago?

  “We’re far enough from shore, Devlin,” Tavia said. “Please, pick up de pace.”

  Emma frowned, thinking Tavia’s comment rude, but then found herself almost falling from her small seat as the boat shot forward. The front of it rose up out of the water. Devlin’s arms moved the oars like propellers. Within minutes, she glimpsed the island, first, just a hulking shape against the distant, dark horizon. And then soon, she could see it in detail as the small boat shot past it, then came around, to approach it from the west. A lighthouse stood tall on a stone-faced cliff, looking out over the sea like the island’s guardian. It was dark now, but beautiful all the same.

  “I’ve always loved lighthouses,” she said.

  No one commented. But she could feel them watching her, paying close attention to everything she said or did, and probably noticing how often her eyes were on Devlin’s body. Bellamy seemed to like her well enough. Tavia did not, and she wondered if there might be a hint of jealousy. Andrew said so little it was hard to tell how he felt. But it was Devlin’s opinion she cared about. And aside from “I can’t quite manage to detest you,” he had given her no clue. She supposed not quite detesting her was something.

  He didn’t trust her though. She told herself it didn’t matter. She didn’t need his trust, she just needed his help to get her dad back.

  Devlin beached the boat on a sandy shore, and then everyone got out of the craft. Once they were out, he picked up the front of the boat and nodded at Bellamy, who quickly picked up the back. It wasn’t heavy for either of them, she imagined, but long and awkward and they probably didn’t want to risk any part of it leaving marks in the sand. They carried the rowboat into the woods, and Emma followed. Andrew and Tavia came behind all of them, brushing away their footprints with leafy twigs they’d snapped from nearby scrub brush. Where the sand ended, forest began, lush with trees that dripped with vines and ferns higher than her head. It smelled of earth and ocean air.

  “There’s a good spot, right there,” Devlin said, nodding at a thick copse of wild shrubs. They carried the boat there, set it on the ground and then pushed it easily into the bushes. By the time Devlin finished arranging the leaves and branches again, there was no sign that a boat was hidden there. Tavia wiped away a
ny sign on the ground, fluffing the grasses that had been flattened.

  Devlin kept walking, and they followed. The forest floor was firm, not sandy, so they were no longer leaving footprints. There was, however, a barely visible path, and they followed it until eventually, they were standing before what looked like an ancient Franciscan convent she’d seen in the Tuscan countryside. It was built of brown-yellow bricks and lined in Roman arches, supported by columns of the same brick. A crumbling walk behind them created a shadowy space between the arches and the exterior walls. The windows on the second and third stories were all arched at the tops, while those on the ground floor were rectangular. The roof was flat, and the mansion was huge.

  “This place is amazing,” Emma whispered, dying to get inside and look around.

  The surrounding trees extended their graceful limbs to form a canopy over much of the building, and she could see more limbs extending out and above it from within. There must be a courtyard with trees, helping to protect the place from detection, and from the sun too. Water stains beneath the window sills made them look like old eyes, too tired to remain open, but unable to close, to rest. Vines and moss crept over the place from every direction, as if the forest was trying to reclaim it.

  It looked like a place where vampires would live.

  Devlin examined the place with an expression of suffering. Emma wondered if the challenge of it was more than he’d anticipated.

  “Can we go inside?” she asked.

  “That is the plan.” Then he walked beneath the arches to the solid wooden pair of doors that were the main entrance. He brushed the moss off the tarnished doorknobs, and forced one of them open. It stuck here and there, but Devlin just shoved, and it gave further as litter sprinkled to the floor.

  They trooped in, Emma pushing ahead of the others, despite that she was the outsider. Even with the decay, the place was stunning. Just through the doors lay a huge room. Despite the darkness, she could make out multiple domes in its ceilings and the skeletal remains of chandeliers hanging like shadowy ghosts. She tipped her head back, pointing. “There’s something else... I can’t quite see but–”

  “Dere are fading remains of frescoes in de domes,” Tavia said.

  “Wow.” Emma shook her head in wonder, longing for daylight. A broad staircase began as one, then split, curving in opposite directions. The foyer seemed to be square, with several darker archways off every side of it, some with doors, some without. The remains of furniture and aging, mildewing books littered the floor along with broken boards and glass. Paintings hung crookedly on walls, their surfaces completely covered in dark fungus, and that was a shame, but it was the books that got to her. Emma loved books.

  “At least we won’t have to spend anoder night in a cave,” Tavia said.

  “I’m afraid we will,” Devlin corrected. “Go on, explore the place. I can see you’re dying to. Bell, we’ll need to know if the caves off the cellars are suitable before sunrise.”

  “I’m on it,” he said, and the three of them took off to explore.

  “Cellars? On an island?” Emma asked.

  He nodded. “Regina Island is mostly solid rock. The basements were blasted out before the place was built. It has some amazing features that make it particularly suited to our needs. But you don’t need to know about all of that. Let’s just find you a place to sit and work, shall we?”

  She nodded and followed him through one of the doorways, through an all but empty room, and from it, into another. The place was like a maze, rooms connected to rooms connected to rooms, each one darker than the one before. She grabbled hold of Devlin’s arm so she wouldn’t lose him as they moved deeper into the place. Even in complete darkness, though, she felt this place. It was a jewel in the rough, and she’d have given her eye teeth for it, even though it was large enough to be a hotel. She wondered how many square feet there must be, and how many rooms.

  Devlin opened door after door, exposing dark room after dark room, until eventually, he found a room quite a bit larger than the others, where moonlight fought its way through the grime of a tall, window. She gasped at the ornate fireplace, even while straining her eyes to see. Then she remembered she still had her phone and quickly pulled it out and turned on the flashlight app, for a better look. The hearth was made of white marble, with black and gold striations. So beautiful, she was surprised it hadn’t been stolen.

  “Thieves probably would’ve taken that if they could’ve found a way to move it. But I would guess it weighs more than a ton,” Devlin said.

  “Reading my thoughts again?”

  “Every now and then, you let one slip through. But you seem to be learning how to create a wall around your mind. Why are you trying so hard to block?”

  She shrugged, lowered her head. “I didn’t think I knew how to block. I’d only read about it. Mom told me vampires could read human minds, but she never mentioned that I could prevent that. Probably figured I’d get away with too much if I knew.”

  He frowned, no doubt fully aware she hadn’t answered his question at all. Then he sighed, came to her quickly, caught her chin in his hands and tipped her face up to his. “You don’t need to be embarrassed by the power of the attraction between us, Emma. I feel it too.”

  Those words took her breath away. She sought an answer but didn’t find one, and her heart beat faster. He felt the same way?

  “Nothing can come of it,” he said, releasing her chin and effectively dousing her with an ice bucket. “Nothing at all.”

  “Is that so?” It pissed her off, that declaration.

  “It is.”

  “And why are you so sure you get to be the one to decide?” And why was she reacting so strongly, when that wasn’t even the real reason she’d been blocking? Yes, she wanted to tear his clothes off and put her mouth everywhere from his ankles to his elbows, but she wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed by that. And that thought, she didn’t even try to block.

  He was staring at her, possibly at a loss for words.

  She bit her lip, pushed down her anger, and with the help of her flashlight app, spotted a rickety table and a wooden chair near the fireplace, and went to it. He stood still, watching her, probably gauging her every movement and expression. She brushed the dust off with her hands, then brushed her hands on her jeans. Finally she pulled off her backpack, fished out her tablet, and sat down, glad she’d managed to grab a few essentials as Devlin had all but dragged her through her own bedroom and out the window. She had a change of clothes and a jacket. She had some makeup. She had her tablet, thank God. And from the stash in the Jeep, she’d brought several cell phones, some cash, her first aid kit, and her mom’s photo. With any luck, she’d have enough of a signal to access the ‘net, so she could find the best places to begin searching for her dad, and to blog about some of what had transpired in the past 24 hours.

  Devlin had seen the flash of defiance in her eyes when he’d told her nothing could happen between them. The way her light brown irises grew darker, their ebony stripes widening as they moved outward from the center. She was even more stunning when she was angry.

  But it had to be said. He’d been feeling the pull of her ever since she’d joined them. It was remarkably strong, stronger than it had been before, during those times when he had gone to her aid. And very different, too. It was sexual now. It had been fondness, an inexplicable caring before, but now it was volatile. There was something about her, and it spoke to something inside him.

  At their earlier encounters, she’d been a child, and then girl. Now she was a woman. A sexy, beautiful, smart, accomplished woman. And brave. Perhaps too brave for her own good. And woefully idealistic. He’d seen her naked, briefly, when she’d stepped out of her shower at her home, and he hadn’t been able to erase that image from his mind since. It had burned itself into his brain and he thought it must be there to stay.

  He wanted her. He wanted her in a way he’d never wanted a woman. He wanted her body...and he wanted her blood.


  And what was worse, she wanted him too. It was in her eyes every single time they met his. He felt it to the core of him, and it would drive him insane if he was forced to be around her for too long.

  He didn’t trust her. He trusted no human, and this one in particular was keeping secrets from him. Secrets that couldn’t be good for him or his kind.

  So he shouldn’t be around her—that was all. He just simply should not be around her for any longer than was absolutely necessary.

  Devlin wanted no attachments. He wanted no bond with another living being, particularly not a human, even if she was Chosen. Humans only brought pain. He would never suffer at their hands again.

  If he could, he would wipe them out of existence entirely. His kind could live on the blood of animals, just as humans lived on their flesh. They could exist. Not at their peak, but they could exist. Humans were a scourge on the planet. Everything would be better if they were gone.

  Emma fell into her work, ignoring him as if she’d forgotten he was there, tapping away on her tablet, occasionally picking up the cell phone and fiddling with it. He left her to it and headed out to assess their situation and immediate needs, and to examine the supplies Andrew, Bell and Tavia had gathered during their hunt on the mainland.

  He didn’t need to do any of those things. What he needed was to taste her. Putting some distance between them was the only way to avoid it happening.

  Walking With Vampires, Day 1

  I personally witnessed the government sanctioned shooting and subsequent abduction of two individuals who were believed to be vampires, that occurred just off the western coast of the United States a little less than 24 hours before this posting. I was also an eye witness to the illegal arrest of a human vampire rights advocate, a colleague of mine, by government forces. The news, my friends, is dire. We must be even more careful to protect our anonymity. These black ops teams of what we in the ERFU community call goops, are out of control. They have either been given free rein by our government, or they’re acting outside the law of their own accord. Either way, the situation is worse than we had even imagined. US Citizens’ civil rights are being violated, and vampires are being hunted down and shot on sight.