by Tamsin Baker
In some respects, it is good that he decided to leave now. The distress and distraction of the past couple of days has taken over and I need to check on my bees. I haven’t been out to the hives recently and I have to collect honey and wax and head into town to replenish some of the wares in the shop. Hopefully, that will give me a chance to find out about funeral arrangements for Darrie and Gwen.
After breakfast I don protective wear and head out to the far paddock with my smoker and collection tub to check the hives. I never take too much—the honey provides sustenance for the bees as much as it does for my customers and I would never deprive them of what my babies need to thrive.
The swarm is buzzing with more activity than usual. Most are usually out collecting at this time. The mood is so agitated I need to add smoke to calm them down. Usually I can just croon to them in my defective voice, which for some strange reason they seem to love. I bring the smoker only as a precaution, but this is the first time since I began keeping bees that I’ve been forced to use it.
What is going on? A glance around the field reveals no sign that anyone else has been here, and the hives certainly look untouched, but something has definitely unsettled them.
Afterward, I visit the storage barn that serves as my warehouse and load up my car with the latest batch of honey-based products I finished making last week. Sales of these products via the local store in town is how I make enough to pay the bills. It’s not much, but I live simply. Once the car is loaded up, I head into Hatton Grove for my usual fortnightly visit.
Laura, the woman who owns the store, greets me with a worried look instead of her usual smile. “How are you doing, Aleah? I’m really concerned about you out there on your own. I heard about Darrie and Gwen.”
“Yes, such a terrible thing.” We hug for longer than usual. Eventually we release each other. “Do you know anything about the funeral, Laura?”
“It won’t be for a little while, I believe. I think there’s something about their deaths that needs further investigation. We all thought some kind of wild animal when we first heard, but Bernie said the supe police are now involved, so you know what that means.”
My heart thumps as I nod agreement. Word certainly gets around quickly in small towns. Bernie, our local cop, should know better than to spread gossip, but I guess everyone is worried about their own family and friends as well as being sad for the loss of such a popular local couple.
“I think they found something at the scene. Bernie started to say, but then he bit his tongue and refused to speak about it further.”
What did they find? Does Luc know about this? What does it mean? Before I can ask any questions out loud, Laura lays a hand on my forearm. “Are you all right out there on your own, Allie? You can always come and stay at ours for a bit, if you like. You know Davey loves to see you.”
I smile at Laura, grateful for her caring attitude. “Davey is adorable, and you know I love him.” Laura’s seven-year-old son has Down syndrome, and I don’t think I’ve ever met a sweeter child. Like my dear neighbors, Davey and Laura are among the small handful of people I’ve allowed in close to my heart. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to them as well. “Thank you for the offer, hon, but I’ll be fine. I’m used to taking care of myself.”
She frowns, obviously still concerned, but lets it drop for now. I head back out to the car and start unloading trays of new product for the store. I have a new range of candles made with beeswax and a batch of honey-fragranced soap that has proven popular with tourists passing through the region.
After I drop off my wares, I head to the store to stock up on groceries and cat food. Everywhere I visit, the mood is somber. Everyone is talking about my neighbors and making wild guesses about what might really have happened. I hear talk of vampires, werewolves, maybe a bear shifter, and even demons reaching up from the depths of hell to rip out their hearts and eat them. At least one of those guesses is correct, but preternatural creatures these days are mostly as respecting of human life as any human, and no one really has a handle on exactly what happened and why.
Luc’s name is bandied about here or there, too. The townsfolk seem particularly fascinated by the sexy vampire cop who has breezed into town to save us all. At least, that’s the gist of the various chats at the grocery store, where I fill my cart with supplies for the next fortnight and eavesdrop on snippets of conversation.
“Have you seen him? Sexy as hell, with that black hair and those piercing blue eyes.”
“Can you imagine being seduced by a man who looks like that?”
“Better than my old hubby, any day.”
Titters of laughter fade away, and I’m left alone with images of what it actually did feel like to be seduced by Luc. I want to call out and let them know that when he’s in the throes of passion, his eyes turn green instead of blue, so green that it feels as if you could dive in so deep you might never find your way back out.
Instead, I bite my tongue and let the other women drift away and carry my bags back to the car to begin the return trek to the farm.
I hope, wherever Luc is, that he’s okay. And I hope that, tonight, when he’s at peak strength, he’ll finally manage to find and destroy the remaining loup.
When I get home and begin to unpack, I realize there’s a note stuck on my coffee maker. He must have written it in the early hours of the morning before he left, because it damn sure wasn’t there yesterday.
Be careful, little banshee. The rogue attacks are indiscriminate and are clearly focused in this area, at least for the present. I won’t stop until I have tracked him down and ended his deadly spree. I can’t remain here to protect you and hunt at the same time. I will be back as soon as I can.
I scowl at the patronizing tone of the note. “I never asked you to stay and protect me.” I say the words out loud, even though there’s no one bar my two cats to hear. “I don’t need your protection. I don’t need anyone’s protection. I’ve done pretty well up till now looking after myself.”
He has a point though, and I make a mental note to drop into the local gun shop next time I’m in town to pick up an additional weapon. A wooden stake might be of use against a vamp, if you strike swiftly and firmly enough, but against a rabid were? I need silver protection for that. My knives upstairs might be enough, but they require close quarter fighting and perhaps something with silver bullets might be a better option for a confirmed non-fighter like me.
The sun is low on the horizon when I head upstairs to reload my belt. A stake in the loop on the left, and a knife in the right-hand loop. From now on, whenever I head outside, I will make sure I’m ready for anything. Thank goodness for Luc’s additional instruction in how best to wield a stake. I can only hope it will be enough, if I’m ever in a situation that warrants using it.
Automatically I stand at the window and scan for any sign of Luc, but of course he’s nowhere to be seen. I can’t believe how quickly he managed to get under my skin.
In a million years I would never have imagined losing my virginity to a vampire, of all creatures, and yet, now that it’s done, I don’t regret the decision one bit. Luc intrigues me in a way I didn’t expect.
My gut instinct still says he’s dangerous, but not toward me. Not unless I end up on the wrong side of the law. Even then, I don’t think he’d harm me. There’s something almost tender in his touch and in his look that I think surprises even him.
Luc is someone I’d like to spend more time with, but that’s unlikely until this current situation is sorted and the danger to the community I know and love has passed.
***
I’m not sure what sound awakens me, but I come to consciousness instantly, reaching for the weaponed belt on my bedside table.
Bobo is sitting up on the bed, all bristled and bushy-looking. Suki is on the dresser, and even in the darkness I note her wide-eyed alertness. Both are staring toward the window. I slide out of bed; thankful I fell asleep wearing a t-shirt and pajama bottoms instead of my us
ual nakedness. The belt fits neatly around my waist and I slip my feet into a pair of boots. If I have to venture outside, I need to be mindful of snakes on top of any supernatural creatures who might be lurking in the vicinity, though admittedly it would be rare to encounter a snake at this colder time of the year.
Once downstairs, I stand at the kitchen door and stare out into the night, leaving my lights off and waiting for my eyes to adjust. I search for any unusual movement along the tree line edging the garden area. Nothing. What woke me? What has caused these goose bumps to raise up along my arms? Why did the cats crowd my legs as I snuck down the stairs and then disappear under the nearest furniture?
There’s a prickle in the air that just feels…wrong. But even with my fae-enhanced vision I can’t discern anything out of the ordinary.
I’m just about to turn away when the sound of a car careening madly up the road fills the air, and then it turns in to my property and comes to a screeching halt right at my garden gate.
Laura? When my friend opens the door and lurches out, I realize she’s bleeding from some kind of facial wound. What the actual hell? I yank open the kitchen door and race down the stairs to meet her. She opens the rear passenger door of the car and my heart lurches when she pulls her young son, Davey, from the back seat. He’s as pale as a ghost, his dark eyes large and frightened.
“Let us in. Let us in. Aleah, please help us.” Laura is sobbing, and reaches out toward me with one hand while clutching at Davey with the other. Both of them collapse into my arms and Laura begins to cry in earnest. The boy is silent, clearly too traumatized to make any sound. I stagger under the weight but then right myself, lifting Davey onto one hip and supporting my friend as I make soothing noises and try to calm them both down.
“Shhh. It’s okay, you’re here now. What happened, hon? Come on inside. Do you need me to call an ambulance? Is Davey okay? Are you—”
“They nearly got him. They nearly got Dave. But I grabbed one of grandma’s sterling silver knives and…”
They? She gulps and starts crying again, and fear crashes into me when I realize what must have happened. Silver. A supe. All humans keep silver now, since the preternaturals came out of hiding. Silver won’t kill a vamp the way it will a shifter, but it will slow down any supernatural creature except fae. Iron is a fae’s weakness, and even though my human blood enables me to tolerate it, even I avoid touching anything iron more than I have to.
“Come on. It’s okay. Let’s get you both inside.”
I guide them toward the stairs and we’re almost at our destination when I hear the low growl.
Oh. Shit.
I lean into Laura and say quietly, “Get inside now, and lock the door. Call Bernie at the station and tell him the rogue vamp is here. Tell them to find the vampire cop and let him know the loup is at Aleah’s place. Go.”
“But how will you—”
“Quickly! Think of Davey.”
I don’t wait to see if she has complied. Instead, I turn and scan the darkness in the direction of the sound. Yes, there. A set of eerily-red eyes stares unblinkingly in my direction. I have two choices. I can back up, slowly, and try to make it up the stairs and all the way inside to safety before he charges. It’s still possible I might make it before he can cross the yard and reach me. I might. Or, I can stand and fight for the people I care about.
If I can hold him off long enough for the cops to get here—long enough for Luc to get here, is what I really mean, and this moment behoves self-honesty—then they might have a chance to bring him down instead of endlessly chasing a shadowy will-o-the-wisp who always lives to kill another day.
Keep him here long enough for Luc to arrive and help me save the day. A little voice inside my head starts laughing maniacally at that thought. He’s not going to get here before I’m torn to shreds like my unfortunate neighbors. No one is going to get here in time.
What good are you, dead, to anyone? Running is the best option. Run. A lightning quick glance over my shoulder reveals that Laura and Davey are now safely under my roof. He won’t get them now, not unless they venture back outside.
An image of my dad rises in my memory. The two of us are seated at the kitchen table, both laughing as he pulls a ridiculous face and three-year-old me tries to mimic him. My father, so loving and supportive even though his daughter was different than everyone else we knew.
I failed him back then. And while I will likely die trying tonight, there’s no way I can run from this. Part of me has simply had enough of rogue supes who go around killing innocent people. Part of me wishes Luc were here right now, so we could fight together and have half a chance. Part of me is utterly terrified, knowing that tonight’s the night I’m probably going to die.
But the part of me that wins the argument is the one that says, enough. No more.
The vamp moves out of the trees into the clearing and I finally get my first real look at the monster of my nightmares. This is no Luc. This creature is naked, it’s whole body white and hunched, with long, spindly limbs reminiscent of a spider. Its face is frozen in a rictus of hatred. The red glow of his eyes is freakishly scary and the spittle dripping off his yellowish fangs makes my stomach turn. There’s no smell, as such, but there’s an oozing miasma of something poisonous surrounding him that just feels wrong. Bad.
My fae half senses that this is no ordinary rogue. The creature carries some unnamed darkness within him that no amount of “loupness” can explain.
Intelligence flares behind the red glow and that fact in itself is far more frightening than all the rest put together. Loups have no reason. Loups do not think logically and rationally—which means this creature is extremely dangerous.
My heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s about to lurch right up out of my chest. For a moment, I think my legs might fail me. I lock my knees to hold myself upright. I will not fall in front of this devil creature. I will not die on my knees without first putting up a damn good fight.
At least I was able to save them. I couldn’t save Darrie or Gwen. I couldn’t save my beloved dad. But I’m damn sure going to do my best to enable Davey and Laura to live through this nightmare and see the light of tomorrow.
Thank everything that’s holy I brought my weapons out here with me, though carrying one measly little knife and a wooden stick to this fight will be like trying to subdue a tiger with a toothpick. Still, my odds are better than Laura’s…
“Come on, you crazy, naked little vamp. Want to play? Try me.” What the fuck am I doing? He’s already proven insane. He won’t need me to taunt him any further to get him to attack.
Do banshees ever herald their own impending death?
I don’t know enough about my own kind. I hid from my heritage all these years because I was scared of it, and now I won’t get to explore who I really am. I don’t know how things might have progressed with Luc, if we’d only had the chance. Now I’ll never know.
I haven’t lived long enough to die tonight.
I shift the stake to rest more comfortably in my grip, exactly the way Luc showed me, and draw the knife with my other hand. Then a tiny yelp escapes when another set of red eyes appears beside the first. Two of them.
Laura said they almost got Davey. They. Fuck it. I’m facing down not one, but two crazed rogues. Is there a fucking loup factory near here? As one goes down, another steps up to take its place?
This second one is no vamp. His maw is huge and distended, and filled with slavering teeth. Unlike the skinny vamp, his body is stocky and muscled. Half human, half furred werewolf. Another fucking were.
One that doesn’t need my permission to enter my home and reach my friends. As that realization sinks in, the vamp attacks.
He launches in a blur I can barely see and I call on everything fae within me to rise to the surface and help. Fae blood. Bring me strength. Bring me speed. Bring me luck. Please. I slash blindly outward with the stake, side-stepping just in time. A rage-filled hiss in my ear and the lightest of gra
zes on my neck indicate how close I just came to having my throat torn out. Wetness coats my skin. Is it blood? Did he nick me? Or is it spittle that dripped from those disgusting yellow incisors?
No time to check. He’s on me again, and this time the weight of his charge knocks me onto my back and takes the breath completely from my lungs. I can’t see the were from this position, not with the vampire hunched on top of me, staring down into my face. My arms are pinned to my side by his bony knees. His mouth widens into an evil grin and I have to fight the urge to vomit as a trail of saliva dribbles out and drops onto my cheek.
“You want to play, hybrid?” The words are deep and gravelly—as if drawn from the depths of some unknown hell rather than emanating from his actual being. “Then why not tell me your name?”
He wants my name? My lungs finally begin to recover from being winded. Enough that I manage to draw in a breath and spit up into his face, but he only cocks his head and laughs. Horror rolls over me at the cracked sound. Is this the last thing I will hear? Is this the last thing I will feel—this spindly devil’s weight pressing me down into the damp night earth?
I blink away sudden tears as the other one appears in my vision. His wolf-like features with the red-tinged eyes above that misshapen muzzle are equally as terrifying as the vamp. He leans eagerly over the two of us, as if a spectator at a sporting event. A fight-to-the-death sporting event. “Leave some for me.” The words that emanate from the were are distorted but not to the point I can’t understand him.
