The first thing they needed to deal with was injuries. Teague and Meredith went to work cleaning up various wounds they’d all received. Neema, Teague’s mate, and Benjamin, Meredith’s son, had the worst ones. They were quickly stitched and Craig knew they would heal quickly due to their paranormal werewolf genes. For that he was thankful.
Next came the cleanup. Michael, Meredith’s eldest son, got an old tarp from the basement and they tossed Vladimir’s body on it and rolled it up. They placed the head in a garbage bag, not willing to take any chances. Until the body was burned to ash there was always the possibility, no matter how slight, that he could somehow heal himself. Better to be safe than sorry.
Isaiah picked up the tarp with Vladimir’s body. “I’ll take care of burning the body. There’s an old coal-burning furnace in the basement. It hasn’t been used in years, but it’s still functional. Won’t take long to burn this guy to a crisp.”
Damek nodded. “He’s old so he’ll burn quickly. Be sure to burn the head separately and gather the ash when you’re done. Take it down to the water and sprinkle it to the winds.”
“Consider it done.” Isaiah nodded at Damek and Craig then headed out of the bar toward the stairs to the basement. Michael grabbed the bag with the head and followed him.
The rest of the pack began to clean up the mess. Kevin, one of Meredith’s adopted sons, and Quinn hauled broken tables and chairs out to the dumpster behind the building. Bethany and Chrissten swept up the shards of glass littering the room and carefully disposed of them. Even Damek went to work, helping Hank repair the front door, at least well enough until they could get a new one delivered.
Craig filled a bucket with soapy water and began the task of mopping up the blood and alcohol staining the floor. All the while he worked, he worried about Evie. She was out there in the city alone. He was here with his friends and family, but he felt as though a part of himself was missing. It was difficult not to go after her, but there were obligations that had to be met first, things he needed to do.
Plus, Evie needed time to come to terms with everything that had happened. Or at least that’s what everyone kept telling him. He wanted to go to her now but was practicing patience and biding his time. But there was nothing that would keep him from Evie.
After cleaning up the worst of it, he dumped the dirty bucket of water and detoured to the bathroom. He yanked off his blood-and-sweat-stained shirt, grabbed a handful of paper towels and cleaned himself up as best as he could. He left the bathroom, dirty shirt in hand, and headed for the employee lockers just beyond the office. Because he often helped out at Haven, he kept some extra clothing on hand. Good thing too, because all the werewolves were much larger than he was. He opened his locker, grabbed a clean black T-shirt and yanked it on. He shoved the dirty one in a plastic bag and hid it in the back of the locker. He’d dispose of it later.
By the time they finished doing what they could, dawn was a little less than an hour away. The bar would probably have to be closed for a day or two while they fixed the damage to the walls, ordered new furniture and restocked the liquor supply.
Still, Haven was almost back to normal. Craig didn’t doubt that all the werewolves would be hard at work, after a few hours of rest, repairing their home. That’s what Haven was to them, a home, not just a place to work.
“We must leave.” Damek inclined his head toward the Haven pack. “Until our next adventure.” He jerked his head toward the door.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Craig promised his sister when he stopped to hug her. He found himself enveloped in a huge family hug, his siblings and their spouses surrounding him.
“I want to spend some real time with you.” Quinn frowned at him. “But I guess that will have to wait until you tie up loose ends and find Evie.”
“We’ll spend some time together soon. I promise.” Craig yearned to have life go back to some semblance of normal. He missed his family and his work. But none of that compared to the emptiness in his heart Evie had left when she’d run.
He had to find her and talk with her.
Damek was waiting. Craig could sense his growing impatience so he quickly said his goodbyes, left his family and hurried outside. Damek peered up at the night sky. “Come. We still have work to do. This is a good time for you to test your skills. I want to see just how strong your mind is.”
Evie ran and ran and ran until she finally collapsed against a brick wall. She’d only used her preternatural speed for a short time before reverting to normal running. She wanted to exhaust herself so she wouldn’t have the energy to think.
It was over. She’d staked Vladimir in the heart, but it was Craig who’d delivered the killing blow, taking off the vampire’s head. But none of that would have happened without Damek’s help.
She owed the ancient vampire big time.
She’d brought nothing but trouble to Craig and his family and friends. The best thing she could do was disappear out of his life. His family certainly wouldn’t want her around, all things considered. And she couldn’t blame them.
Dawn wasn’t far off. She wondered what Craig was doing and immediately chided herself for it. She had to let him go.
Why?
She ignored the soft voice in the back of her head. Maybe she should have stayed and helped them deal with the aftermath of killing Vladimir. She’d left them to dispose of the body and clean up the mess. “You’re a coward.” She pushed away from the wall and started walking. She was afraid now that the threat was over and Craig could settle back into his old life that he might not want her. Better to leave than to be left.
Once again, she’d fallen back into the pattern she’d lived her entire life. When you let people get close to you, they inevitably let you down and hurt you.
But Craig hadn’t. He’d put himself in front of her, protected her. And she’d done the same for him. His family and the werewolf pack had stood beside them, fighting for them as well.
She absently rubbed her chest. She ached to see Craig, to touch him. As it was, she could feel him inside her mind and her heart and knew he was safe. That would have to be enough.
Glancing around, she realized she was in her old neighborhood. She trudged to her building and pulled the door open, barely noticing how easily the lock gave way with her preternatural strength. She was outside her apartment door before it occurred to her that she didn’t have any keys.
She didn’t want to damage the door. Of course, it might not even be locked. No reason to believe Vladimir would have bothered. She turned the knob and, sure enough, it opened easily. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door wide. Her belongings were strewn everywhere. Not that she had much, but what she owned was one jumbled mess scattered all over the floor.
Evie shut and bolted the door. She stepped over her clothing and books, ignored the open paints and canvases strewn across the floor and grabbed her pillow off the daybed. The curtains had been dragged down and the rod hung haphazardly from the window frame. There was no window in the bathroom so she’d be safe there. She trudged into the tiny room and tossed her pillow into the tub. It was pitch black, but with her perfect night vision, she could see her reflection in the mirror—sunken eyes, pale skin and the sad expression on face.
She could still smell blood and knew it was on her. No way she could sleep knowing Vladimir’s blood was on her.
Evie pulled her sweater off and used it to clean off as much of the blood as she could. She wondered if she could salvage it. She’d liked wearing Craig’s sweater. It was like having him wrapped around her. The garment was probably damaged beyond repair, not just with blood, but with rips and holes from the fight. She reluctantly tossed it aside.
Then she grabbed a facecloth and wet it under the tap. She rubbed at her arms, neck and face, cleaning away the remnants of the battle. She rinsed the facecloth several times until it no longer ran with blood. A shower might be the best thing, but she was too tired, not just physically, but emotionally. She promised herself
she’d take one tomorrow night as soon as she woke.
She went into the other room long enough to find a clean shirt and pull it on. Then she went back into the bathroom and shut the door. She climbed into the tub and curled into a little ball, hugging her arms around herself. It was only then she really allowed herself to think about the mess of her life. She wondered where Craig was and what he was doing. The first tear fell and then another. And as the night waned, Evie cried herself to sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
Craig followed Damek to another part of the city. They traveled with preternatural speed, racing along the sidewalk faster than they would if they took a vehicle. Damek slowed and came to a stop in front of a very impressive house—a large Victorian that had been totally restored.
“This Vladimir Drake’s home?”
“Yes. And there is someone we must help.” Damek strode to the front door and knocked.
The door opened and a dark-haired man stood there, his blue eyes bloodshot, his body trembling. “You’re back. I wasn’t sure if I imagined you or not.”
The unassuming man appeared to be in his mid-thirties, but with his receding hairline he could be older or younger. Craig couldn’t be sure. What he could be sure of was the man was afraid. Craig could smell his fear.
“You don’t know what I’ve done, what I’ve seen,” the man began. He seemed broken. This had to be one of Vladimir’s minions. Craig felt sorry for him.
“Your master is dead.” Damek’s tone was almost gentle. He reached out and placed his hand on the man’s forehead. “You will forget everything from the past few weeks. All else will be nothing more than a dream, which will fade over time.”
“A dream,” the man repeated. His eyes went vacant.
Fascinated, Craig opened his mind and tried to feel what Damek was doing. Damek put up no blocks, allowing him inside his mind. The process was as delicate as any brain surgery. It was like writing code for a computer program. Damek was literally reprogramming the man’s memories.
It was over in a matter of seconds. The man slumped slightly, but Damek caught him. “Go home,” Damek ordered him. “Forget me. Forget all that has happened. Go back to your home.”
He nodded and left the house, front door wide open and trudged down the sidewalk.
“Will he be okay?” Craig wondered if they shouldn’t follow him home.
“He’ll have to be. There’s no time to waste.” Damek closed the door to the house, making sure it was secured. “We’ll come back here tomorrow night and deal with Vladimir’s belongings. Anything that hints of him being a vampire must be destroyed.”
Craig hadn’t thought about that. “Being a vampire isn’t easy, is it?”
Damek shrugged. “It has compensations, but you must always be careful. Only a trusted few can know your secrets. I spent hundreds of years with no one knowing what I was at all. It was safer that way.”
His friend faced him. “You must learn to use your powers, test them, strengthen them. I didn’t allow you to do that with this man because he is an innocent and deserved no further harm to come to him.”
He digested what his friend said and nodded. It made sense. “Wouldn’t Vladimir have had more than one minion?”
Damek nodded. “He had a half-dozen. Only this man was innocent. All the others were hardened criminals to begin with. Murderers. They won’t be returning to their homes.”
Craig swallowed hard, realizing that Damek had already killed them.
“I know what you’re thinking, my friend. Yes, I destroyed a couple of them, but the vampire hunters had already done most of my work for me. I found them here when I arrived earlier this evening.”
“What about other connections? The vampire who made Vladimir?” Craig had so many questions.
“No, his maker is dead. I caught that much from Vladimir’s memories when I held him in my command. He murdered him because he wanted to be the oldest.” Damek shook his head in disgust. “Such arrogance.”
“Are you the oldest vampire?” Craig asked. He’d often wondered but there’d never seemed to be the right opportunity to ask.
Damek shrugged. “I don’t know and don’t care. I have no idea what became of the one who made me a thousand years ago. Dead or alive, it matters not. I have carved out my own life and that is enough to concern me.”
Damek glanced at the lightening sky. “We must hurry. Follow me.”
In a blur of motion, Damek zipped down the street, moving easily around obstacles, never slowing. Craig followed. It wasn’t easy to keep up, but he managed. He’d get better over time, or at least he hoped so.
Damek stopped outside a motel just this side of seedy and waited until Craig pulled up alongside him. Craig studied the motel. It wasn’t quite rundown, but it certainly wasn’t going to get more than a two-star review, and that was only a good day. They walked down the side of the building and stopped in front of one of the rooms that had an outside entrance.
“There are two hunters staying here.” Damek pointed to room eight. “I want you to find out what they know. Then you will decide what is to be done with them.”
Craig knew this would be one of the most difficult things he’d have to do since becoming a vampire. It was one thing to kill an enemy in the heat of battle, a vile creature who wanted to kill his loved ones. But this was different. This was cold-blooded.
“It is who you are now,” Damek reminded him. “Who you must become if you are going to survive. Your brother understands this. As does your brother-in-law. All paranormal creatures must face this moment. It is a matter of survival.”
Survival. Craig thought about the men waiting inside the cheap motel room. They were in the city for one purpose—to hunt vampires. They would kill whatever vampires they could find, not stopping to question whether it was right or wrong. It’s what they did. They didn’t differentiate between vampires like Damek and Vladimir. All vampires were evil to the hunters.
Something inside him hardened and he strode to the door. He glanced at Damek, but his friend stood to one side watching. He knew then that Damek would interfere only if absolutely necessary. This was Craig’s show now.
He concentrated on the locks and felt them turn easily. They were no challenge at all. He opened the door and stepped into the darkened room. There were two double beds crammed into the small space. A man slept fully clothed on each one.
Craig waited until Damek entered and then shut the door. He didn’t need light to see, not with his new and improved night vision. Damek motioned to the man closest to them. “That’s Evan. The other one is Leroy.” Then his friend withdrew into the shadows by the door until Craig couldn’t see him at all. Quite a feat, that. He’d have to ask Damek to show him how that was done.
Knowing he was procrastinating and the clock was ticking, Craig went toward the first bed and sat on the edge. The man—Evan was his name—woke, his eyes widening. Craig slapped his hand over the man’s mouth before he yelled or made enough noise to wake his friend.
He’d felt how Damek had eased into the mind of the minion at Vladimir’s home and did the same with the man in front of him. He reached out with his mind and connected easily to Evan’s. He traveled along the delicate neural pathways until he came to the man’s memories. What he found there was disturbing. This particular hunter had a sincere wish to protect mankind from the monsters he knew existed. His sister had been killed by such a monster. The other man, Leroy, had come to him after his sister’s death, telling Evan about the monsters. At first, Evan hadn’t believed Leroy. But then he’d been shown undeniable proof.
But Evan wasn’t comfortable with all the killing. He didn’t mind slaying the monsters. They deserved to die. But the minions were another thing all together. Weren’t they victims too?
Craig backed out of Evan’s mind, releasing his hold on his memories. He was careful not to damage or disturb any of them. It was such an intimate thing to dig around another person’s mind. Much like searching someone’s home wh
en they weren’t there. None of his secrets were off limits, there was nothing he could hide that Craig couldn’t find, given enough time.
This kind of power was both seductive and frightening. It reminded Craig of hacking into a computer. It would be very easy to do lasting damage.
There was so much anger, sadness and fear whirling around inside this man. Craig swiveled his head so he could see Damek. “He’s not a bad man.”
“I know.” Damek said nothing more. Craig knew if he didn’t deal with the situation, Damek would, and Craig wasn’t exactly sure how his friend would handle things. In many ways, Damek was primitive at heart. He’d been born into a more violent and basic time in the history of the world, and civilization was a thin veneer he wore when it suited him.
Craig looked back at Evan. The man was sweating profusely, but he hadn’t moved. Damek must have him under a compulsion. Craig straightened, lifting his hand from Evan’s mouth so he could speak.
Evan swallowed hard. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
“I’m a vampire, yes,” he answered honestly. “But I’m not a killer. Not a bad person.”
“You drink people’s blood,” Evan accused.
“And you eat cows,” Craig shot back. “At least I don’t have to kill people to get sustenance. There is plenty of blood to be had from blood banks. And there are those who know about vampires, some of whom are more than willing to give their blood when needed.” He thought back to earlier tonight at Haven. His friends had come through for him in ways he’d never imagined they would.
“You don’t kill them?” He could hear Evan’s confusion.
Craig sighed. “I’m so sorry about your sister. That was a tragedy, but not all vampires are like the one you were chasing. You don’t need to worry about him any longer. We took care of him.”
“We?” The man reeked of fear, his clothes damp with sweat. Damek stepped out of the shadows and the bed began to shake with the man’s trembling.
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