Into the Flames

by Multi-Author

  “Hope, this is John. He’s not going to hurt you.” Alex held her hand out to keep Hope from swinging the shovel again. “He met me here for a little chat and there’s been a slight misunderstanding.”

  He scented the air. “She’s human.” The words slurred out around teeth hanging unnaturally long from the man’s mouth. “She a friend of yours?”

  Human? What kind of hallucination was he having?

  “She is,” Alex replied. All three of them moved in some bizarre synchronized ballet that kept Alex positioned between Hope’s shovel and the crazed lunatic. “But she’s leaving. She thought you were going to hurt me. And since you didn’t mean to attack me, she’s just going to get back in her car and meet me at the tavern. Right, Hope?”

  “Only if you come with.” No way in hell was she going to leave Alex alone to become the bi-line of tomorrow’s obituary section.

  “John and I aren’t quite finished. He just needs a ride—”

  “I don’t need a fucking ride!” The man inhaled as if trying to find his sanity among the chaos flashing across his features. “I. Need. The. Stuff.” He laughed, a deep, barking sound that clawed its way up Hope’s spine. “You’re feeling it too, Alex. I know you are. We both need a fix. Just get me the stuff.”

  “Alex, what the hell’s he talking about?”

  “Hope, seriously, just leave. I’ve got this under control.”

  “Guess she’s hanging out in the dark, just like the rest of your friends. Obviously, she doesn’t know about you and the professor, does she?” Saliva dripped from the man’s mouth and insanity gleamed in his eyes. “Maybe we can do a little human education tonight.”

  He jumped in the air so quickly, Hope saw him only as a dark shadow headed in her direction. She held up the shovel, shielding herself from the impact that never came. Alex had mirrored his movement and they landed together in the dirt, a tangle of arms, legs and teeth. They moved much too fast for Hope to have any chance of swinging the shovel.

  She searched her yoga pants in vain for the cell phone she’d left in her car. Seconds dragged into excruciating minutes. The sounds emanating from their struggle were more animalistic than human, and Hope began to wonder what the hell Alex fought.

  “No!” The man’s cry split the darkness, reverberating through the barn. “I won’t let you do this.” The man broke free and, in two great leaps, was swallowed in the shadows of the forest.

  Alex turned to Hope, her hand held in the air. “Don’t ask. I don’t have time to explain.”

  The woman wasn’t even out of breath.

  “Go back to the tavern. Tell Glenn.” Alex turned to the forest then back to her, sadness contorting her features. Hope wasn’t sure which one of them Alex grieved for. “I have to find John. Hurry. Get Glenn.” In an astounding feat of athleticism, her best friend bounded into the night after the monster.

  Hope stood dumbfounded, her confusion making coherent thought impossible. Somewhere, she’d crossed the threshold into some alternate reality—or nightmare. The shovel slipped out of her hands, banging against a rock and shaking her from her stupor.

  Hope turned, sprinting through the barn, praying she wouldn’t be too late. She had no idea what Glenn knew or how he could help Alex, but Hope damn well understood there was nothing she could do to save her friend. Her fingers brushed the door handle of her Bug at the same moment a shadow materialized from the darkness, slamming her head against the roof of the car. A hand covered her mouth, trapping her cry for help.

  “I didn’t want to do this, but you’ve seen too much.”

  The whispered words barely cut though the haze of pain as her head was wrenched back by her hair and agony radiated from her throat. Heat burned over every nerve. The metallic odor of blood filled the air and the sickly sound of slurping echoed in her ears. Hope’s world became a dizzying cacophony of disjointed thoughts and sensations that tripped over one another, tumbling her into a sleepy confusion.

  Her body became a weightless entity. Limbs and vocal cords unable to function, she wasn’t sure if the motion she felt was real or imagined. It really didn’t matter. Whatever her attacker was doing to her—she wasn’t going to survive.

  * * *

  Glenn pulled the truck around the dirt drive and parked in front of his farm house. Though he’d driven well over the speed limit from the bus station straight home, darkness had beaten him here. Night and its shadowed secrets now reigned over the farm. A full moon hung eerily over the trees, its blood red color a harbinger of death. Glenn refused to acknowledge the cold weight of fear pressing in his gut.

  He stared at the battered leather briefcase sitting on the passenger seat. Though the search had taken him to three different bus stations, this discovery seemed almost too easy. He wondered now if he’d been set up. Pulling the key from his pocket, Glenn examined the thin slip of metal hanging from a pink numbered fob.

  A bus locker had held a boat load of the professor’s research.

  No doubt, Dr. Paul Morgan, dear friend and colleague of Alexandra Flanagan, had given his life protecting research that had taken Glenn nearly an hour to sort through. The chemical formulas and scientific theory made no sense to him. But there was no denying Alexandra Flanagan was up to her dimpled little chin in this deadly crap. He wondered if she also knew about the fires the professor had documented. Glenn hoped like hell she’d had nothing to do with burying evidence in the ashes of those fires. It was one of the things that worried him the most.

  As he’d read through each piece of evidence against her, the fog surrounding her late night excuses and mysterious illness had lifted, and he saw with absolute clarity who’d she’d become. The fact that she’d done it all under his nose and without talking to him, broke his heart. How could her existence have been so narrowly focused that she only thought about the research?

  Questions swirled in his thoughts, but had no clear place to land. Without the professor, everything was just a jumbled mess of conjecture rolled in speculation.

  Glenn had a clear picture now of the earlier fires. But what the hell was happening now? He was beginning to suspect they somehow centered on someone’s knowledge—and hatred—of the professor’s dirty experiments. The information contained in the leather satchel on his seat would, without a doubt, blow the RISEN investigation wide open, which was exactly why the tribunal couldn’t get their hands on it until he’d purged Alexandra’s involvement from the pages.

  On the one hand, Glenn wanted to protect the impish woman who held his fatherly heart captive. But what Alex had done was unethical even by vampire standards. If only she’d told him, perhaps he could’ve helped before it had gone this far. She hadn’t.

  On the other hand, he wanted to help Reese and his RISEN operatives avenge the needless executions of the vamps and, more recently, the innocent humans. And he wanted to do both without Reese or Alex falling off the short end of the pier into a quagmire of shit.

  He fell back against the seat. The paradox sucked beyond belief.

  Hanging the key on the shifter, Glenn grabbed his cell phone. He’d call Tony to help Alex with the Friday night crowd, feed the animals, then read through the research and identify the most damning evidence. After the tavern closed, he’d bring the pig blood to the wine cellar and confront Alex. If he was satisfied with the explanation of her actions, they would sort through the papers together and cull out the details implicating her. Tomorrow, they’d deliver the briefcase to Colton’s team and satisfy RISEN with a sanitized version of the facts.

  He hadn’t come up with any other solution.

  Of course, Glenn didn’t even want to consider the train wreck scenario if Alexandra had no explanation for the most recent deaths. At the moment, blind with worry, he couldn’t even see down that track.

  Glenn slid the briefcase under the seat, punched the tavern’s number into his cell and got out of the truck and headed down the path to the barn. As the phone at his ear rang, he
shook his head at the state of his life. He’d left the barn lights blazing this morning when he’d left. That wasn’t like him at all.

  A person picked up at the same time the answering machine began playing Alex’s recorded messages about tavern hours. When it stopped, he heard the raucous sound of firefighters and the Friday night pool tournament.

  “Hey, Alex, it’s Glenn.”

  “She’s not here. This is Tony.”

  Tony only came in when things at the bar were really busy. Shit. Obviously, not a good night to be telling the guy he wasn’t going to make to the tavern. “Busy night?”

  “You could say that.” Frustration colored his words. “Where are you?”

  “Let me speak to Alex, I’ll explain to her.”

  “I just told you. She’s not here. Katie said Alex headed out to your barn about a half hour after she got here.” Tony spoke briefly to a customer before returning to the phone. “Listen, is everything all right with you two?”

  “Yeah, it’s good.” That would explain why the lights were on in the barn. “I must’ve just missed her.”

  A heavy sigh filled Glenn’s ear. “Listen, I hate to ask, because obviously you’ve got your hands full with something else, but we could really use another bartender and waitress. It’s a regular night at the fire station around here. When you coming in?”

  Glenn wasn’t sure when O’Malley’s had become the hangout for the local boys on their off hours, but he rather enjoyed their humor and their rowdy manner. Firefighters were definitely a breed all their own.

  “I’m not coming in tonight either.” Worry quickened his steps. Where the hell was that woman? It wasn’t like Alex to call out on a Friday night. Something was up. Glenn quickened his strides. He hoped to hell she’d simply come to feed the animals. Then he could talk to her without anyone else around. Maybe she’d actually tell him the truth. “You should be all set. Let Bob handle the kitchen and pull Chris to help at the bar. Katie can handle the crowd.”

  “Chris left on Alex’s heels.”

  “Where the hell’d he go?”

  “Not sure. But the way he stormed out, I don’t think he’s coming back.”

  “Shit.” What the hell was happening to his family? It didn’t seem possible that Chris was also rolled up in this mess, but what the hell did he know? He’d missed all the signs of Alex’s deceit.

  “Yeah, you can say that again.”

  “Listen, I’m sorry to do this to you, but just call in a couple of the college kids. They’re always looking for extra hours.” The wind shifted and even the pungent odor of pigs couldn’t mask the copper odor of death floating on the breeze. Glenn spun in circles, trying to locate the source.

  “Listen, we can shut the tavern down for the night if you need me to,” Tony said. “If you and Alex need—”

  “No. It’s all good. Nothing going on I can’t handle.”

  “If you’re sure …”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. But damn it all, if you hear from Chris or Alex, tell ‘em to call me.” Glenn disconnected the call. He hated losing his temper, but with his patience wearing thin and the vampire rising within him, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his wits about him.

  “Alex, you here?” he called into the barn. His horse’s whinny and a snuffle or two from the pigs were his only response. The stench of death hadn’t come from here.

  Glenn’s fangs pulsed as he went around the side of the barn and scanned the darkness. Nothing except creatures of the field scurried in his vision. Glenn focused on the breath of night surrounding him, hearing only the sound of the brisk September wind rustling through the leaves. Moving with the stealth of a shadow, he followed the scent of blood into the woods behind the barn. His fangs lengthened and even after all the years of living off the wine, Glenn felt the beast clamoring to share the carnage. The goats bleated out calls of hunger from the barn, but he ignored their summons. Stalking deeper into the forest, he caught the unmistakable essence of vampire. Someone was feeding on his property.

  “I know you’re here. Show yourself,” he called into the night. “If you’ve come for sanctuary, I freely offer it.” This wouldn’t be the first time a vamp had sought refuge, bringing their last victim to him as a sacrifice. The nearly imperceptible whoosh and swell of movement vibrated the air and Glenn wanted to follow it. But a low keening of pain garnered his full attention and forced him down the hill. A body lay curled in on itself, the heart barely pumping blood to its organs. Glenn’s own heart nearly stopped when he rolled the body over, only to see Hope’s vacant expression staring up at him. Puncture wounds at her slender throat were raw and swollen. Fresh blood covered her neck and chest.

  Despite his anger, Glenn forced his fangs to retract. Cradling Hope against his chest, he rushed back to the barn, not sure whether she had enough life within her to survive.

  Large lights, hanging from the wide-beamed ceiling, washed the wide hall and numerous stalls in yellow light. The sweet grass and animal odors replaced the tempting aroma of fresh blood. Glenn laid her gently on the hay in an empty birthing stall and ran to the cooler in the back office. Grabbing a bottle of blood wine, a couple packets of pig blood he kept on hand for these types of situations, a syringe and bandages from the medicine cabinet, Glenn prayed it wasn’t too late. Perhaps with Josh’s help, Hope wouldn’t see immortality as the curse of saving her life.

  When he returned to the stall, Hope’s skin had become translucent. Blue veins marked roadmaps of death on her face. There wasn’t time for the syringe. Glenn dropped the packets of blood and bit into his own wrist, gashing the vein. He held it over Hope’s face, letting the thick fluid drip on her mouth, painting her lips a syrupy scarlet.

  “Drink,” Glenn implored Hope. “Help me save you, damn it. Drink.”

  Prying her lips open, he let the life-giving blood fill her mouth. Hope’s tongue moved and she began to swallow. Glenn threaded his fingers into the tangled mat of her blonde tresses, lifting her tenderly to his wrist. He wondered again if Hope would forgive him for all the complications that came with the cure.

  Obviously, Alex never had.

  Hope’s instinct overpowered the repugnance of her actions and she finally latched on, drinking hungrily from his wrist. Though there was no guarantee he would save her, Glenn relaxed in the knowledge that Hope had taken the first step in survival.

  Sadness tripped over guilt. Glenn hadn’t been the one to rip open Hope’s throat and carry her to death’s door, but he understood his generosity condemned another young person to a never-ending night. Even though genetic evolution in the vampire DNA over the centuries had made sunlight bearable, it wasn’t like the kid would ever again feel its rays warm upon her face. Glenn would teach Josh how to wean her directly onto the blood wine and at least make her survival humane.

  Maybe they’d even be happy sharing the centuries together. He understood what a lonely and long existence it could be. The thought of what he was doing pinched his heart. This decision should have been hers. Glenn had lost count how many humans he’d pulled into his world. But letting them die seemed a worse fate.

  “There. Lie back and sleep.” He eased his wrist away from her hungry lips. Rest and intravenous pig blood would complete the rescue. Glenn licked the wound, his skin closing and repairing itself as if the flesh had never been ripped open.

  “It’s all right now,” he murmured to Hope, running a hand over her hair. But it wasn’t and Glenn knew it. There was still so much explaining and teaching ahead. The only blessing is that the rest of the responsibility no longer rested with him. But even that worried Glenn. He didn’t know how serious Josh’s relationship was with Hope. The concerns weighed heavy on his shoulders, making the task of pulling together the rest of the supplies difficult. When would it all end? How much more did he have to give to a new generation of vampires?

  Focusing on his melancholy and the effort of threading the syringe into Hope’s frail arm, G
lenn didn’t feel the push of air or smell the stench of vampire until the beast was on his back. Sharp nails and fangs dug deep into his flesh. He stood and turned, trying to dislodge his opponent, but the vamp’s legs had clamped around his waist. Glenn reached up, tangling his fingers in its hair, intent on flipping his adversary to the floor. But hatred, rage, jealousy or some combination of the three made the vampire stronger. With a growl that echoed through the barn, the beast swung a wooden stake, coming down hard in front of Glenn’s disbelieving eyes.

  Like lava pouring from a volcano, pain seared through Glenn. It erupted from his chest, scorched down his stomach and arms, oozed slow paths of torture along his thighs and finally buckled his knees. There weren’t many things that could take down a vampire, but the wood protruding from Glenn’s chest definitely did the job.

  He went down heavy on his shoulder, his head slamming onto the wooden planks of the barn. Gasping for air, Glenn’s mouth filled with a sickly mixture of straw, dust and his own blood. He only needed to rid his chest of the stake and his body could repair itself. But when his brain tried to engage his hands, they wouldn’t move. Nothing moved, save for feet pacing in small circles.

  Glenn ignored the darkness creeping along the edges of his vision. He focused on the boots in front of him, the curl of the toe and the elegant sweep of the leather around the ankle. He recognized them immediately. He’d seen them countless times walking the floors of the tavern. Sadness mixed with anger as he wondered why this vampire would murder his own kind. It didn’t make sense. None of what he’d learned in the last few hours made any sense.

  He fought against the pain welling from his chest, ebbing and flowing as if it were breathing inside of him and filling him. His vision pulsed red as it continued to grow and consume him until Glenn’s skin tingled from the heat of it.