“Thank you.” Harriet took the gun and leaned with its weight. “Thank you, Ms. Miller. Stay safe.”
He gritted his teeth and retrieved the door to return it to its frame. The hinges and locked were broken, but Miller should be safe with her pistol. And if something other than a human came for her, a locked door wouldn’t stop them anyway.
The crone paused in the hall and eyed his abdomen. “Are you certain you’re okay? I have some skills—”
“Don’t worry yourself. I’ve healed. A little blood will help, though.” Kiral led the way to the stairs, peered down, and nodded that they were clear. Harriet was out there somewhere. He would find her.
The crone touched the side of her neck. Much like a caress. “You could drink from me.”
It reminded him too much that he almost did the previous night. Harriet wouldn’t forgive him if he did such a thing, and he needed the crone to find her granddaughter. “No. I wouldn’t dare, Grandmother. I need you as alert as you can be. We need to find Harriet.”
CHAPTER 9
“You let Harriet come to work in this part of town? This is one of the worst suburbs in Carmine.” Kiral pressed Harriet against a brick wall, his body in front of hers, as another round of gunshots exploded from not so far away.
She scowled. “It’s not as if I can tell her where and for whom she can work. She has her own mind.” She pushed him away with her free hand once the gunfire ended. “Besides, this was once a very good neighborhood. Some of the original owners still live here. Good people that need my—Harriet’s help.”
Harriet wondered if she started to refer to herself as Harriet if he would even notice. She was beginning to feel he was treating her as a means to an end. All he wanted to do was get to Harriet and make sure she was safe. So hurry it up, Grandmother. Let me carry you, Grandmother. Are you sure you still want to go on, Grandmother? She was going to make sure no one called her that ever again after tonight.
“She’d listen to you if you told her not to come here. It really is safer that way.” Kiral scanned the area and then motioned for them to carry on. “You need to look out for her better.”
Stomping a foot, Harriet folded her arms. Who did this guy think he was? He never knew “Harriet” existed until that morning. “Listen to me, laddie.” Great, now she was sounding like her grandma. “You know nothing about Harriet. Don’t you pretend to be looking out for her when you’ve met her all of once, and even then, you ran off and left her cold and alone in a stairwell.”
She’d been lying there in bliss, but she didn’t add that.
Kiral’s gaze lowered. Running his hands through his hair, he paced and shook his head. “It’s not like that. I know how it looked. You can’t imagine how terrible I felt for doing so. But . . .” He stopped and groaned, crouching down, but still not looking at her. “I had to get away from her. To stop myself from drinking her dry. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I’d killed her. She was just so . . . I can’t describe it.”
Harriet’s anger dissolved under his confession. His earnestness softened her face and made her heart beat a little faster. He’d left her because he didn’t want to kill her. His compassion won against his blood lust. She really wanted to hug him.
“Try to.” Her hands clutched the shotgun until her knuckles whitened.
Kiral sat on the ground, hands still in his hair. He glanced at her as he spoke. “I have a problem. One that I’ve been trying very hard to keep under control. And I’ve been doing pretty well. I haven’t . . . I haven’t taken from a drugged human in nearly three years. It was bad before. Really bad. But I haven’t harmed anyone.” He shook his head.
“Harriet. She—” He was suddenly standing with his hands on her shoulders. “She knew me for what I was and didn’t run. She offered herself. I didn’t mesmerize her. She gave herself to me.”
“I know.” Harriet didn’t flinch and locked her gaze with his. Her heart jumped into her throat.
“She’s the most beautiful, gentle, kindest woman I have ever known.” Kiral’s voice grew soft. “She helps care for you and all her clients.”
Not that he could really know those things so soon, but a pink flush rose into Harriet’s cheeks. He thought she was beautiful? Flattery shouldn’t get anyone anywhere, but it might get him a little somewhere.
“I was on the edge. Lost. But she found me.”
An original poet he was not, but it still made her want to burst into tears.
“Her blood was the most incredible thing I’ve ever tasted. Pure and good and, yes, I know she’s not fully human like you.” Kiral handed her a little smile. “You smell similar, but I realize that’s because you’re family. You have a taint on your scent. Harriet’s, she was like drinking pure magic. I’ve never felt so good in, well, ever.”
Her smile flattened and her heart splattered on the cracked sidewalk. It wasn’t her he wanted. It was her blood. He was drunk on her blood.
Shouts and then a scream came from a house nearby. Kiral fast wrapped an arm around her, hurrying her out of the open, and sheltered her in the shadow of a tree.
Harriet said nothing. What should’ve she expected? That he would fall madly in love with her upon first sight? A few of her fantasies did revolve around that. Okay, most of them did. She was so in love with him that she only wanted him to feel the same way for her.
It wasn’t realistic. He was an addict. Years of school and volunteer work taught her addicts generally couldn’t hold meaningful relationships. And she wasn’t about to become his newest addiction. No matter how much he thought he could control himself or that she thought she could control him, it wouldn’t work. Not really.
Her feet dragged as he led her down the street to the next address she’d given him. Harriet wanted to run away back to her apartment and have a good long cry. Her life was truly cursed in every aspect.
Maybe next time he offered to take her back home, she’d let him. Let him go on his wild goose chase for a woman he already had in his arms. Let him . . .
The rooftop. Chains, sunlight, and fire.
No. She might be cursed and heartbroken, but she was going to do everything in her power to make sure he didn’t die. She’d vowed to save him. Addict he may be, but he was a good man. With all the death and destruction happening in Carmine tonight, she was going to save one soul.
CHAPTER 10
They found Isaac Kirkwood unconscious in his kitchen. Kiral carried the old man into the bedroom where Harriet tended to his head wound. There was nothing supernatural about what happened. Someone broke in, knocked Isaac out, and took whatever they wanted. Humans could be just as ugly as the monsters.
While Harriet tended to Kirkwood, Kiral popped out to find a bite to eat. It was clear Harriet had not been there. He wanted to scream, to tear something apart, and bash his head against a wall. The only thing that would bring him some peace would be to find Harriet.
Even with his mind not on the hunt, it took only a minute to find a human loathsome enough for him to drink from. The man was barely full grown. He was likely sixteen, but big for his age. He’d found himself a girl. She was a skinny thing, and even with all her struggling, she couldn’t free herself of her attacker’s strangling grip. Fear was bright in her eyes.
She might’ve been Harriet. Harriet could be out there, bleeding slowly to death in a dark hole, and Kiral didn’t know how to find her faster to save her. No. No, he refused to let that happen.
This girl, though, he could save.
Kiral tackled the bastard to and pinned him to the cold grass. The girl was fast to her feet and screamed as she ran off, not even looking at who rescued her. It didn’t matter. Kiral only wanted the prick beneath him to see what had him.
Forcing the teen’s head forward, Kiral stretched his jaws wide. Like a serpent, he swayed his head from side to side. Not to hypnotize, but to give his victim a complete view of his fangs.
His prey bawled, sounding more like a toddler than a man. Kiral silenced hi
m by biting his neck and drinking deep. Nicotine, a bit of dope, and sugar laced his blood. It was typical of the bastards Kiral usually fed upon. They always thought they’re such bad asses, but really they’re just dopers on a sugar high.
Tempting as it was, Kiral didn’t kill him. Yet he did hit the prick hard enough to knock him unconscious.
It was almost ten minutes before Kiral, fully healed and hot with new energy, returned to the house. His steps were silent as he walked in and heard Kirkwood groan. Kiral peered around the door to see the old man suddenly thrash about on the bed. He tensed, ready to rush in to protect the crone, but she laid a gentle hand on Kirkwood’s shoulder.
“It’s okay, Mr. Kirkwood. It’s okay. You’re safe now,” she said.
“Harriet?” Kirkwood flopped back and winced. “What day is it? Have I been out for long?”
“No, it’s not even midnight yet. How are you feeling? You were whacked in the head pretty hard.”
“It aches, but I’ll live. Damn thugs. No respect these days.” He grumbled and finally opened his eyes. He startled. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear. I thought you were my nurse.”
Harriet smiled, squishing her wrinkles together. “Harriet’s my granddaughter. I was hoping to find her. I thought she’d be checking on her clients tonight.”
“Your granddaughter. Makes sense. You’ve got the same gentle touch.” Kirkwood traced his fingers over his bandage and sighed. “I’m sorry she hasn’t been here. Out on a night like this. Poor girl. You’re not out searching on your own, are you?”
It was obvious that Harriet got her manner from her grandmother. Both were healers. Even cursed, the elder still did as much as she could for others. A surge of pride went through Kiral as if she were his own family.
“No, sir. She has me.” Kiral announced his presence from the doorway.
“Ah, good boy.” Kirkwood relaxed back and his eyes fluttered closed. “You find Harriet and keep her and her gramma safe. There’s some big gang war or something going on tonight.”
“I will find her.” Damn right he would.
“Will you be all right on your own? Is there a neighbor or anyone we can fetch to come stay with you?” The crone fussed over Kirkwood.
“I checked earlier on my neighbors. Lovely little girl they have. They went out to dinner, but their minivan isn’t back.” Kirkwood shook his head. “I’ve been praying for them. You go on. I’ll be fine here, resting.”
“Are you sure, Mr. Kirkwood?” Harriet nipped her lip as he nodded. “Okay. Well, I’ve left some water here on the bedside table and some aspirin along with your pillbox. Do you need anything else?”
“Go on, go on. Find Harriet. That will bring me peace of mind.”
“Come on, Grandmother.” Kiral touched her elbow and guided her away from the bed. He had no doubt she’d find some reason to linger if he didn’t.
“Take care, Mr. Kirkwood.” Her good-bye was scratchy and weak.
“Where next?” Kiral asked before they were even out of the house. He feared she was nearly out of energy and running on pure will power. The faster they got to the next place, the better.
She frowned, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.
Kiral’s gaze met hers. She wrapped her bony arms around herself with tears in her eyes. They shone, bright as the moon. When she was young, he bet she was beautiful. He could see the remnants of it underneath the sagging flesh. Did she look like Harriet? He was almost tempted to smooth back her wrinkles and see.
He rubbed his palms against his thighs to keep him from doing just that. “We need to get to the next place. The night’s getting worse as it goes on.”
The crone said nothing, choked with her sorrow, but pointed north. Kiral picked up the gun, handed it to her, and supported her as they carried on. Thankfully she didn’t protest, but emotion was making her heavier than before.
Or perhaps it was his own causing his shoulders to hunch and his feet drag.
CHAPTER 11
The visions were coming more frequently. Every ten minutes or so. Harriet wished for once that she could scream, but she didn’t dare draw any more attention to them than an old woman and a young man would marching through a devastated city.
“We’re not going to make it before the sun rises unless you let me carry you.” The patience in Kiral’s voice was wearing thin. In fact, Harriet was surprised he didn’t just toss her over his shoulder like a bony sack. She hated to slow them down, but she was no baby.
Harriet leaned on the gun like she would a cane. The muzzle wisely pointed down. “We’ll make it.”
“I need to find Harriet.”
“She’s fine.” At his look, Harriet held up her chin. “She’s fine. I know it.”
“Magical family bond?” He didn’t appear convinced.
“Yes.” Harriet snapped. “Trust me, she’s alive and well.”
Kiral dipped his head. “I trust you, Grandmother.”
The words weren’t false, but they were frustrated. Harriet sighed and walked on.
She should tell him the truth. It would end this search, but she didn’t know how he’d react. She needed to keep him alive. If he knew she was Harriet, he might run off in his anger. There would be no way she’d be able to catch him.
No. She had to keep him tied to her. Since she was the only one who knew where Harriet was, she was valuable to him. He wouldn’t leave without her.
The wail of sirens never seemed to quit. A jumble of cars blocked the road. Even if Harriet thought about suggesting they’d take a vehicle, they wouldn’t be able to make it through the streets.
The block they walked on appeared empty. Not even a pigeon or cat.
“How did you come to be an oracle?” Kiral’s voice seemed too loud even against the background noise.
“An oracle?” Harriet placed one foot in front of the other. “I suppose that is one way to look at it. You do know what I am, don’t you?”
“When I was a child, we called you keeners. Wise women with the sight. Some visions so afflicted them that they mourned the dead before it happened.” Kiral kept pace beside her. “I knew a girl. She wasn’t born to it. She went away for a while, and when she came back, she was one of the crones. Some considered it a blessing from the gods.”
“It’s a curse.” Harriet spit out with more venom than she intended. “No one would choose to be this way, and if they did, they’re fools. A jealous little fairy cursed me, not kissed by any god.”
Kiral was silent for a moment before taking her free hand. “I’m sorry, Grandmother. I can sympathize with you, being forced to be something you never wanted. It does get easier, though. I—”
Harriet didn’t hear the rest of what he said. She sucked in a breath as another round of horrific visions claimed her. An angel. Not a real one, but the one at the city’s center. Then an explosion. So many people screaming and dying.
When she came back to herself, she wasn’t on her feet anymore. Kiral rocketed down the street with her in his arms, and her hair flew into her face. Hooves? Did she just hear hooves? They suddenly stopped, and she grunted with the jolt to her body.
Something massive hissed.
“Shit.” Kiral set her down as she frantically swiped at her wild hair. “Run, Grandmother. Go find Harriet. I’ll take care of them.”
With her hair out of her eyes, Harriet gasped and stumbled back. The creature was born from the most chilling of horror tales. A headless rider sat upon a dreadful steed. The beast pawed at the ground and cracked the pavement.
Harriet whirled around at the sound of thunder. A second rider barreled down on them.
Her first instinct was to run. Then she remembered the gun. Where was the shotgun?
“Go!” Kiral roared and leapt at the oncoming monster. Fearless or foolish, or perhaps a little of both. She admired him for it and was terrified at the same time.
The second rider bolted forward, and Harriet fell over her feet to get out of its way. She was certain it would tram
ple her, but its focus wasn’t on her. It didn’t even glance her way. They were after Kiral.
They were after Kiral!
Kiral ripped at one horse’s neck and tried to yank the rider off, but the headless monster and its stallion moved as one beast. The vampire unbalanced it, but didn’t knock it down.
As he was occupied with the one monster, the second one rode up from behind. The rider unfurled a barbed whip and lashed out. The whip wrapped around Kiral’s calf. It jerked him off his feet as the hellish steed stomped on his chest.
This was it. This was when the monsters took Kiral.
Harriet picked up the nearest thing: a discarded water bottle. She chucked it at the closest rider, but it paid her no attention.
The other rider snapped a whip and caught Kiral around the arm. His struggles bought him torn flesh as the barbs dug deeper.
She pounded a fist against her thigh. Time was of the essence. What could she do?
Maybe these things didn’t like light any more than the darkness that attacked her in the alley.
Kiral cried out, and Harriet choked on a sob. No, they couldn’t have him.
Fast and a bit sloppy, she summoned one wisp after another. They zipped down from the sky and circled her, dancing as if attending a grand party.
Harriet commanded them to shine bright and blind the monsters. Well, the mounts since the riders had no heads. The wisps had no attack other than with their light. It had to be enough. It had to.
Their illumination didn’t chase the monsters away, but as the wisps swirled around the things, they definitely got their attention. One of the horses reared, and the riders swatted at the wisps like annoying gnats.
Hunched over, Harriet scurried onto the sidewalk and moved behind the cars parked along the road. If she could get into a car, she could bull the monsters over. But she didn’t have the keys to any of them nor could she hotwire one.
Another plan. She needed another plan.
The Oracle & the Vampire (The 13th Floor) Page 5
