“No family. Two friends who would notice. And I have a couple days off, too.”
“Will you call your friends and tell them you're sick or something? Something that will keep them from checking on you for the next week or so.”
Part of my mind said that was a very bad idea. After all, this guy could be a serial killer.
A very high-end serial killer, I thought as I glanced up at the room. Still, I couldn't explain away the new sensations coursing through my body, or the way I had reacted to the sun. Either way, I wouldn’t be able to go home till the sun set. I reached for the phone he offered and dialed Jordan's number.
“This is Jordan,” he announced in his business tone.
“It's Ashley.”
“Hey shorty.”
“Hey Jordan.”
“What's up? It's Ash,” he said, his mouth pulled away from the receiver. I assumed Chloe was with him. “Hey how was your Isaac time,” he asked, slurring the words into a sneer.
“Be nice,” I heard Chloe say, sounding as if she held the phone herself, though I knew she wasn't. That was too weird.
I cringed, remembering how Isaac had overpowered me. “Um… nothing special really. Probably a good thing, cause I'm sick now. Feeling pretty awful.”
“That sucks. Ashley's sick,” he said for Chloe's benefit. “I'll bring you dinner tonight.”
“I can make soup,” she offered.
“No!” I snapped, a little too quickly. There was a lengthy pause. “I mean, I don't want you to get this from me. It’s pretty nasty. I'll call you in a few days. Enjoy some time with Chloe.”
“Okay… ” drawled Jordan.
“Talk to you later,” I added before hanging up the phone. The conversation had not gone as planned. It sounded like one of those horrible lies one hears on sitcoms where you wonder why the other person doesn't realize they're being lied to.
“He buy it?” Josh asked.
I nodded hesitantly before yawning again.
“Don't worry, Ashley. I won't hurt you... Get some sleep,” Josh added as he bent down and pulled a thick blanket out from under the futon. He added a pillow to the bedding before standing up and shifting over to the curtain that concealed his bathroom.
“But I have so many questions.”
“And they'll wait until you get some rest.”
I hesitated, wondering if Jordan or Chloe would miss me while I was out “sick.” Considering their new dating status, I figured they'd be too distracted to regret my absence. I nestled down onto the futon, glad to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter Five
I woke some hours later, my leg draped over the blanket and my dress hiked way too high. I quickly covered myself while searching for Josh. Right on cue, Josh pushed the curtain aside and appeared at the edge of the bathroom area, his red hair glistening in the soft light coming from the lamp on the far night stand.
“How bout I take you home so you can get cleaned up before we start introducing you to people,” he suggested. I liked that idea. He helped me up and we left his room.
“What is this place?” I asked in a whisper as we headed up the steps, passing another man who watched us closely.
“This is where those in my seethe are safe.”
“Seethe?”
“Family of vampires. This place is like our headquarters.”
“You live here?” I asked.
“I have a room, but I also keep a private apartment.”
I heard a door from behind me open and shut. “It’s been ages!” came a female voice from what sounded like a great distance.
“All right Emma, I’ll try and come visit you,” stated a disembodied voice, much closer at hand. We turned to see a tall man with a wide jaw, dark brown hair carefully styled, and green eyes that faded to red near the center. He was carefully sliding a sleek cellphone into his pocket. I felt a little mesmerized. He made Isaac look like a hillbilly. So much for not meeting anyone until I cleaned up. “This her?” he asked from the doorway.
“Yes, sir,” responded Josh in a respectful voice. “Nikolai, may I introduce Ashley Hawn. Ashley, Nikolai Krasniy.”
The tall man nodded to me and turned toward Josh. “She finished?”
Josh nodded.
“Good.” Nikolai glanced quickly at me. “Get her cleaned up and bring her to meet Mikhail.”
I bristled at his tone and choice of words. Though I knew I looked like the loser of a mud wrestling match, I didn't appreciate him pointing it out. A gentleman wouldn't have brought attention to it. I wanted to make some snarky response about his own need to get “cleaned up,” but the truth was he was just too pristine. Not to mention he was wearing the suit of all suits. Now, I've seen some pretty nice suits before, but this one was in a league of its own. It hung from the man in sleek, well-ironed lines.
Instead of talking back, I glared up at him. It was the best I could manage. I wondered if he'd look as nice after going through what I had. He noticed it and condescended to ignore me. Josh, sensing the tension forming, took me by the arm and led me away, my bare feet pattering against the floor. We went to the door where I had first discovered my sensitivity to the sun. Thankfully, the sun was set and I walked out without the slightest discomfort.
We walked through the dimly lit streets of Olympia toward my apartment, passing a few teenagers and the occasional politician—Olympia was the state capital, after all. The city also had quite a few colorful bars which were slowly filling. We reached my apartment in less than two minutes, with only one or two pointed looks at my lack of shoes and matted hair. But this was the land of hippies; my matted hair could just be dreadlocks, and my lack of shoes a choice of conscience—anti-child labor maybe? Then again, I didn’t know too many hippies that wore little, slinky black dresses. We weaved through the courtyard and into the narrow staircase leading up to my door. I could almost hear Josh's thoughts as I stopped at my paint-chipped door—people actually live in these dumps? Belatedly, I realized I didn't have my purse with me anymore, and thus my keys. I glanced at him and he seemed to understand. He reached for my door handle, twisted it easily, and pushed it open. I heard a crunch as the deadbolt tore through my wall and cringed. That was going to cost. Thankfully, Josh's inhuman strength distracted me.
How the hell had he done that? Seeing vampire strength in real life was a far cry from reading about it in books.
We entered my dingy apartment. I looked around, the whole place taking on a new light while in the presence of a stranger.
“You live here?” he asked, echoing my previous thoughts.
I tried not to take offense at it. “Unlike some people, I'm not rolling in it. My books aren't that popular.”
I moved into my apartment, hoping to find some comfort food. “Do you want anything?”
“No.”
“I can still eat food right? I mean, Isaac ate in front of me.”
“Yes, you can eat food, but it won't be as satisfying.”
I shrugged and closed the fridge door, no longer really interested in food. Nothing looked good. I couldn't figure out what I was craving.
“Why don't you go shower?” Josh suggested. “I'll wait here.”
I hesitated a moment before realizing there was nothing of value for him to steal.
I gathered up clothing that in no way resembled a cocktail dress—jeans and a T-shirt—and shuffled into the bathroom. Once out of the shower, I dressed and returned to the main room. I threw my wet hair up into a ponytail and stuffed my feet into my most waterproof pair of boots. Josh sat on the edge of my bed, petting Muffler. I filled Muffler's bowls while the cat was happily distracted. On the way out of the door, I grabbed my brown leather jacket, and I followed him down the stairs and out onto the street.
“So do—do vampires, like, live forever? Like in my books?”
“Well, we don't die of old age, but we can still die. And far more easily than in your books.”
“Then how old are you?” I asked, an un
comfortable idea forming in my mind.
“I was born in 1952 and turned at the age of twenty-one.”
“So, you're really sixty years old?” I ask after a brief pause to calculate his age. Math wasn't exactly my best subject—hence the writing.
Josh chuckled at the clear sound of shock and disgust. “Yes. I'm an old fart in your eyes—though barely middle-aged compared too many of my seethe. Well, soon to be your see… ”
Josh was cut off by a blow to the back. He fell to the ground, blood spurting from his broken nose and tainting the sidewalk. I turned to see a man dressed in dated black jeans, a black sweatshirt, and a knit hat pulled down to his eyebrows. At first I thought it was just your average mugging—whatever that means—but the attacker immediately turned toward me, arms outstretched, as though I was the item he intended to steal. He ignored Josh. I panicked, not having the faintest idea how to defend myself.
My panic sadly didn't produce a speedy retreat. Rather, I became glued in place, my eyes wide with fright. My breath caught painfully in my chest, keeping me from screaming. Thankfully, the blow to Josh's head hadn't muddled his thoughts. He pushed himself off his knees, launching himself into the attacker's legs. The man in black toppled over onto Josh's back.
Without really thinking about it, I jumped forward and slammed my fists into his back. I felt a newfound power surge through my muscles. The man grunted and rolled off Josh. Evidently my blow was harder than I realized, because he didn't get up as quickly as Josh. The redhead swung his leg into the attacker's rib cage. I heard a faint crack of ribs breaking. Was I supposed to be able to hear that?
Well, I am a vampire now, I thought in a smug mental voice.
Josh jumped in between me and the other man as our attacker climbed back to his feet, his body hunched slightly toward his left side. “Give her to me,” the stranger ordered, his voice constricted with pain.
Josh and I both hesitated, too surprised by his demand. “Who are you?” Josh finally asked.
The man grinned, circling to the left, which forced Josh to shift. I stayed behind Josh, as I sensed he wanted me to do. Considering I had no idea what was going on or how to fight, it seemed a good idea.
“Who sent you?” asked Josh in an effort to get any response from the stranger.
“My primus, of course,” stated the man, with a chuckle, right before he lunged at Josh. Josh was at least six, maybe even nine inches shorter than his attacker, but he was a great deal faster. Josh managed to take two steps forward and duck before their bodies collided. He used his low center of gravity to flip the other man over his shoulder while taking hold of one of the man's legs. The move resulted in our attacker slamming head-first into the pavement. His skull collapsed in a sickeningly crunchy splat.
I don't know what response I expected from myself, but I'm sure it was not throwing up. Nevertheless, I dropped to the ground and started heaving, but there wasn't anything in my stomach to expel. I barely managed to spit up some useless bile.
Josh moved before I could finish. He leaned over the man and quite literally tore his head from his shoulders. The body instantly turned to dust. I gasped and scooted away from the pile that was slowly turning to mud, thanks to the annoying drizzle.
“W-w-what just happened?” I stammered after swallowing a few times to get the taste out of my mouth.
“We'll talk when we're safe,” he said, spitting blood from his lips in a totally manly, and not at all gross sort of way. Josh pulled me to my feet and guided me away from the site. We were still a number of blocks away from the vampire bunker. Josh nudged me down an alley, presumably to avoid notice. After all, he couldn’t clean his bloodstained face. Strangely, the broken nose didn’t seem to be bleeding anymore. We weaved through the alleys, avoiding the attention of the local night life.
Josh yanked on my leather jacket, pulling me to a stop beside a nondescript door. He banged on the door in a rhythmic fashion and stepped back. It swung open a second later, nearly taking my nose off. A man I didn't recognize glanced at us before stepping aside and to let us in.
“What happened to you, Josh?” the man asked as he followed us down the steps.
Chapter Six
“Where's Mikhail?” Josh snapped, ignoring the man’s question.
The man didn't hesitate, but pointed toward the intricate double doors, his brows furrowed in confusion. Josh stormed down the hallway, and I did my best to keep up. He took my wrist, pushed the nearest door open, and entered the room. Again, my expectations fell short.
The entire room was arranged like a furniture store that catered to the modern shopper. Matching couches, with straight lines and harsh corners, were bunched into small living room sets, including coffee tables and end tables of all shapes and sizes. The walls were covered in entertainment centers, symmetrical book cases, and the occasional fireplace. Modern art, conveying no meaning whatsoever, beckoned the eye not to notice the lack of windows. Well-dressed individuals sat in conversation, drinking from crystal glasses.
In contrast to the ultra-modern look, classical music played softly in the background and two enormous, antique grand pianos sat in the back corners surrounded by special seating for those who chose to listen to the performers. Just to the left and right of the door stood two matching pool tables. The one to the left was in use.
A young man, barely out of adolescence, leaned over the edge of the table and tapped a ball into the corner pocket. His curly hair hung down past his ears and hid his face. “What happened?” he asked without turning to look at us. Was he psychic?
“We were attacked, sir.”
I glanced back and forth between the bloodstained Josh and the younger man. There was something between them I wasn't catching. Josh stood stock still, his shoulders pulled back, as though he were a cadet being inspected by his commanding officer.
“Clearly,” sighed the teenager. He turned to look at us, leaning his backside against the edge of the table while idly picking up his glass and sipping an amber-colored liquid. I doubted he was old enough to drink alcohol. I had to remind myself that age could be deceptive with vampires, and after seeing a man turn to dust, I couldn't really doubt their existence anymore.
Though I wanted to doubt. I wanted to very badly.
“A man from Richard's seethe ambushed us, demanding I give him Ashley.”
“Ashley?” asked the youth, glancing at me for the first time. I was starting to get annoyed. Being ignorant wasn't pleasant. And having a teenager eye me with disdain was even worse. “So this is the stray?”
I bristled at his words. Stray?
“This is Ashley Hawn. Ashley, this is Mikhail Bartrey, my primus,” he added, emphasizing the title in a not-so-subtle hint. “Isaac Wilson changed her, but abandoned her.”
“Isaac huh? And now a man attacked you, broke your nose, and demanded her back?”
Josh nodded.
“It seems, little Josh, you have managed to stumble into a complete mess,” growled the youth while he dropped his pool cue onto the table, the movement disrupting most of the remaining balls.
Josh nodded, keeping his eyes on the ground.
“And what makes you so special?” Mikhail asked, his bright eyes searching me with interest.
I shrugged and glared defiantly at him. I was hungry, confused, and annoyed; such emotions never brought out the best in me. Mikhail cocked an eyebrow at me, not backing down despite my ferocious glare, which has frightened puppies and babies alike.
“I've never heard of Isaac siring anyone, much less doing so and leaving them,” commented Mikhail before taking a sip of his drink. He seemed determined to ignore my insolence. That just annoyed me more. I'm like one of those brat children that act out for attention. Not very mature, I know.
“Something must have scared him off?” suggested Josh.
I tried to think back to the attack, but I couldn't remember anything useful.
“Wait! What's siring?” I demanded.
“Shshsh,” h
issed Josh.
“Oh shshsh yourself,” I snapped, tired of being in the dark. All the rules that held my reality together had changed, crumbled. I had to know the new rules.
“Your sire is the vampire who turned you. Now be quiet,” ordered Mikhail.
I glared at him, unable to think of anything worth saying in response.
“What would scare off Isaac?” Mikhail asked.
Josh's eyes widened at the thought. Evidently the answer was something really big and nasty. It was hard to believe, I thought as I remembered the pain of his attack. Mikhail nodded at Josh's silent response.
“I think the bigger question is 'why would Isaac turn her in the first place,'” said Josh.
Mikhail took another sip of his liquid, the wheels in his head clearly turning. The silence dragged on, though the others in the large room continued to talk in subdued voices. I glanced at Josh, who was still eying Mikhail. I was about to say something, anything, when Nikolai, the man in the fancy suit, stepped forward from the other side of the pool table. I hadn’t even noticed him standing there.
“It seems the best solution would be to kill her and be done with it,” he said.
“Excuse me?” I snapped, appalled.
Josh stepped forward and grabbed my arm, but I shook him off as I marched right up to the tall man. When someone is more than a foot taller than you, it's not wise to pick a fight. What can I say; I'm not very wise.
“You just wanna whack me for your convenience?”
“If your life is a threat to this seethe, then yes,” Nikolai said in a matter-of-fact tone.
Without thinking, I pulled back my arm and swung at his face. I didn't even get halfway through the swing before he had me pinned to the pool table, the cue ball digging painfully into my cheek. “Not a good idea,” he whispered in my ear, a faint hint of a Russian accent leaking through.
“Let her up, Nikolai,” Mikhail ordered in a calm voice. “She'll learn.”
The Series that Just Plain Sucks: The Complete Trilogy Page 3
