Bloodhunter

by Laken Cane

  Something worse.

  Because beneath the hatred, beneath the agony, and beneath the sorrow an unthinkable sort of joy sprang to life. I belonged there, somehow, restricted, taught, and mastered by the vampire.

  That vampire.

  “No,” I screamed, but my denial was a wheeze of expelled breath, loud only in my mind.

  “I made you.” His murmured explanation slid into my ear, through my brain, and down into my soul and finally, I understood.

  He’d made me.

  “I’m a vampire?” I cried. “I’m a vampire?”

  “No, Trinity.” And his voice comforted me because it was impatient and irritated. “Not a vampire.”

  I’m not a vampire. Of course I’m not a vampire. I don’t need blood. I’m not a parasite. I don’t have vampire strength and speed and—

  “You are just not the same. You carry some of me inside you, and that gives you certain…advantages.”

  I would have spat on him but I hadn’t the strength. “Advantages.” And I knew that even if he couldn’t hear my scorn, my disgust, my hatred, he could feel it.

  As I’d felt him.

  “You killed the woman,” I accused.

  “Yes.” Then he added, “To end her suffering.”

  I stiffened in surprise at his ready admission. “Why did you kill my family?” Because that was really all I cared about.

  That was all I would ever care about, surely.

  He sighed. “I am a vampire.”

  “So?”

  “I cannot fight certain things as you have fought them. It took me two years to completely break free of the poison inside me. It took you mere months.”

  Three months. The months I’d spent in the hospital, unaware. Unresponsive. Torn apart. That’s how long it had taken me.

  “I don’t know what that means,” I said, my voice dull and tired. I couldn’t sustain the rage when I was so beaten. So filled with pain. I couldn’t win. Not against him. I couldn’t bring back my family. I couldn’t make it so the attack never happened.

  “I can feed you,” he said, bringing me back from the edge of unconsciousness, and I began to fight once more. But my fight was not enough.

  He squeezed me so tightly I couldn’t breathe, and when I thought I would die from suffocation, he eased his hold and continued to speak.

  “I can feed you,” he continued, “though it may only upset your stomach. I will allow you to recuperate on your own. There will be pain.” He hesitated, then put his mouth close to my ear. “You are growing stronger. I am proud of you for surviving the sick vampire.”

  “Fuck you,” I whispered, or tried to whisper.

  “Sleep, Trinity, and heal. We are not finished. Do not attack me again. I am tired of your useless rage. The next time we meet, you…”

  His voice faded as I sank down into comforting layers of unconsciousness, and some small part of me prayed that I would never awaken from that sweet sleep.

  I woke up—sort of—to Angus swearing as he grasped me under my arms and dragged me from the backseat of my car. There were only flashes afterward. His scent, warm and comforting. Lights, thumps, yells. Voices.

  And then, as Amias had predicted, there was pain as my body fought the wound above my collarbone, the blood loss, and something else…the vampire saliva, maybe, that coursed through my veins? I had only Amias’s bite as a comparison, and it felt like that. Only somehow, it was changed.

  My mind cleared abruptly, though I had no idea how long I’d been out of it.

  “—hospital,” someone said, her voice hard and angry.

  “No,” Angus replied. “It will go badly for her if we involve outsiders.”

  “Badly for us,” someone else said.

  I opened my eyes. “I’m okay,” I said, as much to assure them as to assure myself. I was okay. I moved, flinching at the stiff soreness of my body. Nothing woke up screaming, as it had earlier—I briefly remembered crying out at a pain that seemed unending and unendurable—and I groaned with relief when that particular agony did not reappear.

  I stared at the circle of concerned faces above me, then pushed myself into a sitting position. “Where am I?”

  “My house,” Angus said, his voice terse, his brows low, eyes stormy. Angus was very, very angry. “What the fuck happened to you, Trinity?”

  Miriam stood beside him, her own emotions hidden beneath the brightness of her pretty façade, and beside her stood…

  “Rhys?” I murmured, surprised. He and Angus weren’t exactly pals. “Why are you here?”

  Rhys Graver watched me, his quick black eyes impassive.

  “I brought him,” Angus replied, when Rhys remained silent. “I thought you were dying, Trin. I ask you again. What the fuck happened to you?”

  I kept my stare glued to the unreadable Rhys. “What are you?” I asked.

  A smile, there and gone, lifted his lips. “Nonhuman,” he replied. Nothing more.

  “You were bitten,” Miriam told me, and smoothing her skirt, sat down beside me. “But not just bitten for blood. Your wound is—was—torn and gaping, as though a dog attacked you.”

  I reached automatically for my neck, pressing at the thick bandage I found there. It was only then, when I caught a movement against the wall, that I realized the golem was in the room as well.

  I gathered the sheets in my hand and pulled them a little higher on my chest. I wasn’t naked, but Clayton made me feel as though I were.

  “Tell us your story,” Miriam encouraged, gently.

  I ran my dry tongue over even drier lips. “Can I get some water?”

  “Clayton,” Miriam said.

  He detached himself from the wall immediately and went to do her bidding. I flushed, uncomfortable. “Don’t do that,” I told her.

  Her brows rose. “What?”

  “Don’t order him around on my behalf. I don’t like it.”

  She shrugged. “Stop delaying, honey. Tell us what happened.”

  I blew out a breath. “The woman on the news.”

  “The one killed in New Gravel?” Angus asked. “What about her?”

  I kept my gaze on Miriam’s. “I went there, to where it happened.”

  “You really are insane,” Angus roared. “Why the hell would you do something that fucking stupid?”

  And I looked at him then, confused. He thought I was insane? Was that the general consensus among the supernaturals? “I’m not insane,” I whispered, but something dark trickled like slick oil through my mind. Was I?

  Miriam patted my hands. “Of course you’re not.” She shot a glare at Angus. “Keep your mouth shut, you moronic beast, and let me talk to her.”

  To my surprise, he dropped his angry stare from mine, shamefaced, and gestured at her. “Go on.”

  Clayton slipped into the room and gave Miriam a tall, icy glass. She grasped the straw and guided it to my lips, and I drank long and deeply. The water filled my mouth, cleansing it, and gushed down my throat and through my body, and I widened my eyes in surprise. Nothing had ever tasted as amazing as that icy water.

  My throat began to burn from the coldness and at last, I spat out the straw and allowed Miriam to set the glass aside.

  I put my fingers to my throat, still lost in the taste of that water, and they all watched me silently. When I looked at them, I saw something in their faces that made me almost afraid.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  Miriam touched my cheek, bringing my attention to her. “Nothing, Trinity. Continue, please.”

  I folded my hands into my lap. “I killed the vampire who attacked Carrie Alden. I killed him.” Suddenly vicious, I repeated it yet again. “I killed him.”

  Angus took a step back. “Trin.”

  I wasn’t sure why he sounded so sad. The killing made me happy, and confident, and proud.

  “Dead?” asked Miriam, quickly, shooting him another warning look. “How do you know?”

  “Because he dried up like a raisin and he didn’t mov
e again,” I told her. “He looked like the husk of a worm when I was done with him. He was dead, Miriam. I can promise you that.”

  The four supernaturals looked at each other with shock and…wonder, maybe. Or maybe I was misreading everything.

  I was sick, after all.

  Then they turned back to me, and even the golem looked suitably impressed. I’d done something no lone human woman should have been capable of doing—I’d killed a crazed, murderous vampire, and I’d killed him with a stake and a prayer.

  Rhys finally decided to join the conversation. “You gave a vampire the true death.” He didn’t sound like he was convinced.

  I leaned back against the headboard, tired, sore, and suddenly, I was ravenous. “True death? Obviously anyone can stake a vampire. Anyone can kill a vampire. I just proved that. Angus.”

  He stepped closer. “Yes?”

  “Can you ask one of the kids to bring a pizza? I’m starving.”

  He looked at the others and spread his hands, then pointed at me. “She’s…” But he shook his head, his search for the right word unsuccessful.

  “How did you get back to the park?” Rhys asked.

  I took a deep breath, then flinched as the horror of all vampires, Amias Sato, flashed through my mind. “Shit,” I said. “I’d forgotten.”

  “You forgot how you got to the park?” Angus asked. “You couldn’t have driven. When I found you, you were in the backseat, nearly dead.”

  I looked down at my hands. I shuddered as the reality of that night began to sink in. Delayed shock catching up with me, maybe. Whatever it was, I was suddenly in a bad place and they all knew it.

  Angus sniffed the air, then clenched his fists. His words, when he spoke, came through gritted teeth. “You’re afraid. Suddenly, you’re afraid. What is it, Trinity?”

  “It’s cold in here.” My voice quavered and I wrapped my arms around myself. “Turn up the heat, Angus.”

  They simply waited.

  “Amias was there,” I murmured, finally.

  Everyone in the room stiffened.

  “He sat watching as the other vampire…” My shivering became more violent, and my teeth clacked together when I tried again. “He watched as the other vampire tried to kill me. He watched me stake the guy.”

  “Sweetie.” Miriam squeezed my clasped hands.

  “He said he was proud of me,” I said and tried for a scornful laugh. It sounded like more of a watery sob. “Bastard.”

  “Then he brought you to us,” Angus said.

  “He said he made me,” I told them, hoping one of them would scoff at the very idea. Hoping they’d tell me that was bullshit, that part of Amias Sato didn’t live inside me.

  They nodded.

  “He made you a killer,” Rhys said.

  I didn’t disagree. I remembered that darkness inside me. The desire. “But I’m not his. I’m not a turned human.”

  “He changed you,” Miriam said. “But he doesn’t own you.” She glanced at Clayton, and even as his face hardened, she smiled.

  It was not a nice smile.

  “He watches you,” Rhys said. “He stalks you. Doesn’t he?”

  I nodded.

  “How do you know that?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “Because I see him.”

  “Master vampires have ways of hiding when they don’t want to be seen,” Rhys said, smoothly.

  “Obviously something changed inside me after the attack. Made me immune to their tricks. That doesn’t mean I’m made.”

  “No, but…”

  “What are you trying to say?” I asked, suddenly angry. “Just say it.”

  Angus punched at his phone screen with a hard finger. “He’s trying to say that you’re different. That you’re not quite human. Humans can’t give vampires the true death. Humans don’t see masters who don’t want to be seen. Humans can’t fight vampires and live to tell about it. That’s what Sato meant when he said he made you. He made you what you are now.”

  “Vampire killer,” I murmured.

  “She’s still human,” Miriam told them. “Just different.”

  “Altered,” Rhys agreed.

  “We knew she was,” Angus said. “Which is why we took her in.”

  “I’m right here,” I said, irritated.

  Angus heaved a heavy sigh, and the bed dipped as he lowered his massive body to sit beside me. His big hand swallowed my fingers when he enfolded them in his tight grip. “To us, you’re a friend. To the world, you’re a human.”

  “To Amias Sato,” Rhys said, “you’re an obsession. A thrall. A possession.”

  Miriam went to stand beside her golem. “And to the vampires,” she said, “you’re one of the very few people in the world who can give them the true death. They can’t even do that to each other.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, as my insides quivered.

  They exchanged long, meaningful glances once again, leaving me—the puny human—out of their mysterious supernatural loop.

  But when their silence was finally broken, it was the golem who spoke.

  “It means you’re a hunter,” he said. “And they’re going to come after you. They’re going to come after you hard and fast, and they’re going to try to kill you before you kill them.”

  Chapter Five

  I gaped at him, more surprised by his loquacity than his grim predictions. For the first time, it was as though Clayton was more than Miriam’s slave. He was one of them. One of the tiny, strange group of supernaturals who lived under the radar in Bay Town.

  I was the outlier, not Clayton.

  His predictions took a moment to sink in.

  I started to shove Angus away so I could stand, as having them all hovering around me was making me nervous, but the trembling weakness of my body wouldn’t allow it.

  “We’ll protect you,” Angus growled. “Don’t worry.”

  I looked at Rhys, who shrugged, then grinned. “Anyone who can take out the bloodsuckers is worth protecting. I’m in.”

  “We rarely see vampires,” I told them. “I can’t see them converging upon Red Valley to hunt me down.”

  “You’re the hunter,” Miriam said, crossing her arms. “Never forget that. You’re the killer. They will come, but you won’t sit around waiting for them to stalk you like you’re prey. You’ll go after them.”

  “Wait a damn minute,” Angus said, finally getting off the bed—much to my relief. “She’s not going to go hunting vampires. It doesn’t matter that she’s different. She’s still just a human girl.”

  “And you’re a just a half-wit,” Miriam said, calmly. “But we don’t try to keep you at home.”

  “We’re her shields,” he said, ignoring her insult. “If she goes out there, they’ll kill her.”

  “We’re her shields,” she agreed. “And when she goes out there, we won’t let them kill her.”

  “Amias didn’t try to kill me,” I interrupted. “And he’s a vampire.”

  “Amias is all kinds of fucked-up about what he did to you and the rest of your humans six years ago,” Rhys said. “You lived. He feels you’re…his. He’ll protect you.”

  I shuddered. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “Doesn’t matter how it makes you feel. It’s the truth,” he said.

  Someone knocked on the bedroom door. “Dad?”

  “About time.” Angus strode to the door, yanked it open, snatched a pizza box, then slammed the door shut. He stomped back to me and dropped the box into my lap. “Eat,” he ordered.

  “You need to stop bossing me around,” I told him, around a mouthful of gooey cheese. “Oh. Yum. God.”

  No one said anything until I’d stuffed three slices of hot pizza down my throat.

  “How do you feel?” Miriam asked, when I stopped to breathe.

  “Better,” I admitted. I moved my arm, then groaned when the movement caused my muscles to scream. “Sore.”

  “You should be sore,” Angus said. “You shou
ld be a hell of a lot more than sore.”

  I sighed. “So you’re telling me that I’m healing from such devastating wounds because of the attack six years ago. Because of that bite.”

  “That wasn’t a bite,” Miriam said. “That was a sustained, brutal attack that tore you apart. But you put yourself back together and you lived. And thanks to Amias Sato, you gained the ability to kill the most dangerous creatures on earth. The vampires.”

  “And that makes you both dangerous and vulnerable,” Angus said, angry again.

  As though it were my fault.

  “I need to take a shower,” I said, tired of them all. “I need to wash the…the vampire off me.”

  No one moved.

  “Go.” I flapped my hands at them. “I need some alone time.” My clothes were crunchy with dried blood and God only knew what else. My head ached from being slammed against a brick wall. My nails were broken and dirty. The wound above my collarbone throbbed and burned.

  I was a dirty, bruised mess.

  Rhys reached into his jacket pocket, then shook some pills into his palm. “These will help with the pain. They’ll also knock you out, so…” He shrugged, then placed the pills on the nightstand. “You need more, let me know.”

  “She doesn’t need your drugs,” Miriam said. She ran her hand over my arm and took my cold fingers in hers. “Come. I’ll bathe you. Clayton. Carry her to the bathroom.”

  Angus’s eyes gleamed. “I will be happy to supervise.”

  “Lech,” Miriam said, but she gave him a tiny smile.

  “I can bathe myself,” I said, unamused. “And I can walk to the bathroom.” To prove it, I swung my legs over the bed, then glared at Clayton when he took a step toward me. “Try to pick me up and I will break your nose.”

  Clayton and I were the only ones who didn’t laugh.

  “Out,” I told them.

  Angus strode toward the door. “I have to go to work. Don’t leave this house, Trin. The little ones will keep you company and I’ll inform the nannies to call me if you so much as look at the front door. I’ll expect you in bed asleep when I return.”

  Miriam sighed and let go of my hand. “Come, Clayton. I would like a long, hot bath myself.”

  And finally, they left me alone.