4-Ever Hunted: Vampires Rule

by Blake, Kasi

  “Isobel,” Cowboy cried out in one last desperate plea. When she didn’t return, he straightened his back and tightened his jaw. His hands clenched into fists. “Go then! I don’t need you. Do you hear me? I don’t ever want to see your face again!”

  Summer crossed the room to put a hand on Cowboy’s back, but he shrugged it off.

  “You’re right, you know?” Summer said. “We don’t need her.”

  “Guess we’re the only hope Trick Donovan has of seeing another tomorrow.”

  Was he out of his mind? After getting a glimpse of the Shadow Faerie and his power up close, she wanted to get as far away from the thing as possible.

  “I was ready to make a run for it when it was just the Shadow Faerie. Now we have werewolves.” She latched onto Cowboy’s arm and pulled him in the direction of the terrace doors. “Let’s go. Now. Let’s get out of here before we wind up dead.”

  Cowboy shook her off as if she were a clingy child. “We’re staying, and we’re saving Trick from the faerie king.”

  “You don’t even know him!” She paced between Cowboy and the fireplace, raving at the top of her lungs because that’s all her friend understood: violence. “Why should we risk our lives for a complete stranger? I’ve met him, and trust me when I say it’s not that big a deal. He’s human, and he doesn’t want to be anything else. Remember how much Ian Carver hated vampires, how he wanted to kill us all, including his son? Remember how he tried to kill Jackpot?”

  The mention of Jack tightened Cowboy’s jaw.

  “Well,” she continued, “Trick was raised by the man, at least for the first several years of his life. I’ve seen it in his eyes, that crazy look a hunter gets when he catches the scent of a monster.”

  “This could seriously work to our advantage. If he wants to live, he’ll have to join us.”

  “I want to go! I’m serious. Forget Trick. Forget Isobel. I have a terrible feeling we’ll die if we stay in this stupid town.”

  Cowboy slowly shook his head. “I lost Isobel, and I lost... Jackpot. I will not lose one more person.”

  Summer grabbed a fire poker and used it to clean off the mantle with a fierce swing. She broke picture frames, a vase, and a few glass knick-knacks. Fragments flew in all directions. She turned on Cowboy, still brandishing the weapon. “Meet the kid face to face. You’ll see I’m right. He’ll kill us and himself before he willingly agrees to become a vampire.”

  Cowboy stuck his hand out. “Deal.”

  She reluctantly shook it even though she wanted to rip his arm off. “Deal.”

  chapter eight

  Bad Medicine

  Baxter’s couch was familiar territory. Trick had spent hours sitting there like an idiot with nothing what to say. Her couch was the longest he’d seen—olive green with four cushions—and he always sat in the exact same spot. Habit. His first appointment had been eye opening. According to movies, patients stretched out on the couch, and the doctor scribbled endless notes while sitting in a nearby chair.

  That embarrassing day had started with him lying down and her asking, “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He didn’t know about other psychiatrists, but Baxter enjoyed moving around during their appointments. Hands clasped behind her back, she paced while he talked. If he refused to speak, the hour was filled with awkward silence. Baxter believed in asking one question at the beginning of the session. Then she traveled the room until he satisfied her with whatever information she was digging for at the time. Once he answered the way she wanted, she asked another question. If he refused to speak, she wouldn’t say another word. Sometimes the hour became a silent battle of wills.

  Not today.

  This time he had a question for her.

  “How do I know if a memory is real or if it was just a vivid dream?”

  Surprise briefly registered on her face. “Dreams feel different than reality. When we’re experiencing a dream, sometimes we don’t realize it until we awaken. Do you remember waking?”

  “If it was a dream, I had it when I was a kid. That’s why I’m not sure if it was real. Can’t remember if I woke up or not.”

  Baxter stopped pacing and gave him the benefit of her full attention. “Can you tell me about this dream? Maybe I can help crack the mystery if I hear details.”

  He hesitated.

  She reminded him of the rules. “Doctor-patient confidentiality. It won’t leave this room. Even though your parents are paying me, I don’t discuss the details of our sessions with them.”

  According to Dani, Baxter shared stuff with her husband. They had talked about his necklace and it being a psychological crutch. Or maybe that had just been Dani’s take on the subject. Perhaps they’d wanted the talisman for another reason.

  He didn’t trust Baxter, but he needed to know if the vision was real.

  “I remembered something, I think. The night my dad left me in New Orleans.”

  Baxter crossed the room to sit in the chair next to the couch, something she never did. It startled him for a second. Then he realized this was what she’d been waiting for, a breakthrough concerning his father. Abandonment issues, that was why his adoptive parents insisted he see Baxter twice a week, because he refused to discuss his biological father with them. Every time he ‘pulled a stunt’ as Sean Donovan put it, they blamed his father’s absence. They’d tried to get him to talk to them for the first two and a half years. When they realized he never would, they put him in therapy with the neighbor lady.

  “Go on,” Baxter said, settling back in her chair. “What did you remember about your father?”

  “Not much.” No way could he tell the psychiatrist his father had left him with a gypsy because he’d had magical powers. “He handed me off to a strange woman. She gave me to some friends of hers, and they delivered me to the Donovan family.”

  “How did that make you feel?”

  And there it was, the go-to question of shrinks everywhere.

  When he didn’t respond, Baxter tried again.

  “What would you say to your father if he was in this room?”

  “I’d want to know why, that’s all. Laura claims they have no idea why he gave me up for adoption. They didn’t deal directly with him. Everything went through a lawyer.”

  Baxter returned to her pacing and seemed deep in thought. The clock on her desk counted down his remaining minutes. If he was going to ask a question, it had to be now.

  He took a breath and asked, “Would hypnosis work on me?”

  “It might.”

  “I want to remember the memory or dream or whatever it was more clearly. I want to know why my father left me.”

  “We can try that approach if you wish.”

  “Do you think it’ll work?”

  “We won’t know until we try. I have literature on hypnosis in the other room. Let me get it for you. Then you can make an informed decision.”

  As soon as she walked out the door, he jumped off the couch. Too wired to sit still a second longer, he moved around the spacious office. He checked out her diplomas on the wall, her stack of medical books, and a picture of Dani in her cheerleader outfit. A narrow blue ribbon on the floor caught his attention. Part of it was trapped beneath the area rug. He flipped the end of the square fabric and found a trapdoor.

  His heart beat faster at the sight of what could be an important find. Maybe Baxter was hiding a secret past. Anything could be beneath that door.

  He wrapped the ribbon around his fingers and pulled the door up to reveal an array of weapons attached to movable metal grates. He pulled a grate up and stared in fascination at a wicked looking hunting knife, a 45 colt, a grenade, and what appeared to be a Chinese throwing star. Now why would a psychiatrist need such weapons?

  They were hunters.

  Did she know that Trick hunted in his spare time?

  Footsteps approached.

  He pushed the metal grate into place, shut the trapdoor, and flung the rug over it. Her footsteps stopped outsi
de the office door. He raced across the room and plopped down on the couch as she entered. Her curious gaze landed on his face. Could she tell he was out of breath? Did she know he’d been snooping?

  His gaze went to the rug, and he realized a corner was folded under.

  He jumped up and snatched the pamphlet from her hand. “Thanks. I’ll let you know if I decide to do it.”

  “You’re leaving? We still have a few minutes.”

  “I have a ton of homework.”

  “We were finally getting somewhere.”

  “Gotta go.”

  He hurried out the front door, across the lawn, and into his own house. How long would it take for her to notice the rug? More importantly, what would she do about it once she realized her secret was out?

  ♫

  “Claudia Baxter and John Foster are hunters,” Trick announced the moment his foot crossed the laundry room threshold. “They have a hidden stock of weapons.”

  Out of breath, he’d searched the entire house before finding Matt doing laundry. They were supposed to have a housekeeper, but Matt had given Camille the week off in light of their vampire troubles. The last thing they needed was for her to give a detailed report to the parents. Sean and Laura would be on the first plane home. Then one of two things would happen. Either they’d believe there were monsters in the world and totally freak out. Or—and this was the most likely scenario—they’d think Trick had lost his mind and have him committed.

  Matt stopped folding towels long enough to stare at Trick with a mixture of disbelief and fear. “Maybe they just like guns.”

  “I know what weapons hunters use, and they have a huge supply.”

  “Wonder if Dani knows.”

  “No way.” Trick leaned against the washing machine. “She’s like you. She’d wet herself if she came face to face with a monster. Besides, she doesn’t have that jaded look in her eyes.”

  Matt smirked. “You’ve been gazing into her eyes?”

  “Shut up.”

  Those two words had lost their meaning years ago after extreme use. They were brothers, so they constantly told each other to shut up. Trick didn’t even bother to put feeling into the words anymore.

  “She’s lucky,” Matt said. He returned to his chore and added another towel to the growing pile. “I wish I didn’t know about monsters.”

  A sheepish grin stretched Trick’s mouth. “Sorry. I had to tell somebody, and my new bratty brother seemed the best choice.”

  “Thanks.” Matt shook his head. “I’ll never forget the night you woke me to tell me that you and your father hunted werewolves. I thought you were trying to prank me.”

  “That’s why I introduced you to one.”

  “Yeah. That gave me nightmares for years.” Matt looked at him, a probing gaze as if he was trying to see into Trick’s mind. “I don’t understand how you can hunt and still be normal. I couldn’t do it. I’d go crazy.”

  Trick’s eyes narrowed. “Well, get over it. Someday you might not have a choice, and I want you ready.”

  The idea of Matt coming face to face with a monster while Trick wasn’t around scared him. He wished his brother would let him train him.

  Matt changed the subject. “Do you think Dr. Baxter knows about you? Or about your dad?”

  “If she does, she’s the most patient person I’ve ever met. I have been dodging her nosy questions for four years now. Can’t be much fun for her.”

  “Maybe you should confront her.”

  “And say what? If she doesn’t know about me, I don’t want to give away information.”

  “Do you honestly think she doesn’t know?”

  Trick rubbed the back of his neck, feeling more frustrated than usual. “Her living next door can’t be a coincidence. When did they move in?”

  “I don’t remember. It was after you got here, maybe six months after you moved in. Do you think your dad sent them to watch over you?”

  Trick’s cell alerted him to an incoming text. He glanced at it and sighed. Scarlet. She sent him texts continuously throughout the day. Like him, she was itching for another hunt, but it would have to wait.

  “Scarlet?” Matt asked.

  “Good guess.”

  “Not really. You should ditch her before she gets you killed.”

  “At least she isn’t a vampire. I trust her more than I trust Summer.”

  Matt got a weird look on his face like he was caught in a daydream. “Summer is... sweet. You don’t know her.”

  “And you do?” When Matt didn’t respond, Trick felt a rock form in his gut. “How well do you know her?” Still no answer. “Hey, have you been seeing her? Answer me!

  Matt admitted, “I’ve talked to her.”

  “Since she was here? Since finding out she’s a vampire? Are you insane?”

  “Maybe all vampires aren’t evil.”

  Speechless, Trick stared at his idiot brother while his mind raced in dizzying circles. In the history of the world no one had been more wrong than Matt was about vampires. If there was a scale to measure how wrong a person could be, Matt would have broken it with the dumb statement.

  “Vampires are monsters, Matthew. Don’t you forget that. She’s playing you to get closer to me cause she wants me to kill that faerie thing.”

  “Think so? A pretty girl couldn’t possibly like me for me, huh?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Matt slammed the dryer shut. “Believe it or not some girls think I’m cute.”

  Trick sighed.

  The doorbell rang, interrupting the heated moment. They walked down the hallway to the front door, and Trick peered through the peephole. His jaw tightened. He nodded at his brother. “Yep. It’s the Fosters.”

  ♫

  Trick pasted on a fake smile and opened the front door to greet his unwanted guests. John Foster and Claudia Baxter stared back at him with open hostility. At least they hadn’t shown up with guns in their hands.

  “Good evening, Mr. Foster,” he said with as much sarcasm as he could manage. “Dr. Baxter.”

  Usually he didn’t bother with her title. He used her last name, except for when Sean and Laura were around. Then he was careful to put Doctor in front of the Baxter. Sean and Laura thought the way he purposely dropped the woman’s title when speaking to her was disrespectful. Maybe that’s why he did it.

  “Making house calls now?” he asked.

  She stood there like a statue. No response. The blinking of her eyes was the only movement that indicated life.

  His gaze moved from her to her husband. If there were two people that simply did not go together, it was Baxter and John. Baxter wore an air of refinement and had what his mom referred to as impeccable manners, while John was a beer-drinking, football-watching truck driver. She looked like a woman who belonged at the opera or at a fancy gala filled with celebrities. Her husband would be more comfortable in a biker bar.

  “What can we do for you?” Trick asked.

  “Cut the crap,” John said. “We know you saw the guns.”

  Baxter let her tight expression evolve into her patented smirk. “Curiosity killed the cat, Patrick. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that?”

  Trick’s teeth clenched at the sound of his given name. “Are you threatening me?”

  “We don’t make threats, kid.” John pushed him out of the way. “Move.”

  Baxter followed her husband. They made their way to the formal living area as they had during countless dinner parties. Baxter sat in his mom’s floral chair, but her husband chose to stand near the marble fireplace. When the brothers hesitated under the open arch, Baxter waved them inside.

  “I’m sure you’ve already told your brother what you saw,” she said. “He may as well stay for this conversation.”

  Trick stepped into the room, but he refused to get too close to his neighbors. Folding his arms, he waited beneath the arch. Whatever it was these people wanted, they weren’t getting it from him.

  Matt sailed into the ro
om. “So he’s right about you? You’re hunters?”

  “We are,” Baxter said without batting an eye.

  “Are you even a real psychiatrist, or is that just your cover?” Trick asked.

  Deadpan expression, Baxter said, “Those diplomas on my wall, they didn’t come from a Cracker Jack box.”

  “Did his father ask you to watch over him?” Matt asked.

  Trick threw his arms up in the air. What was wrong with his brother? He didn’t own a muzzle. If he didn’t shut up, he was liable to give them information Trick did not want them to have.

  Matt returned his glare. “What? We were both wondering.”

  Baxter shook her head. “No. Ian Carver did not send us.”

  “Of course he didn’t.” Trick’s hatred for his father grew. “If he cared about my health, he wouldn’t have dumped me on strangers.”

  Baxter explained. She spoke slowly. Her unblinking eyes made him feel like a bug under a microscope lens. Was she watching him for signs of deception? Did she think his expression would give away what his lips didn’t? “We were sent by our group after we heard rumors you’d inherited your grandfather’s power.”

  Trick kept his mouth shut and his expression neutral. She could fish all she wanted; she wouldn’t get anything out of him.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep his brother from talking.

  “Group?” Matt shook his head as if to clear it. “You work for a group?”

  John spoke to Trick from his position near the fireplace even though the question had come from Matt. “There are rogue hunters like your father and like you, but most of us operate in large groups. We watch each other’s backs. Safer that way.”

  “What were your orders?” Trick asked, unable to stop himself.

  “To watch you,” John said. “Make sure you don’t have any crazy powers.”

  While her husband answered, Baxter watched Trick as if searching for something.

  “You were planning to kill him, weren’t you?” Matt asked.

  The blood drained from Matt’s face, and he looked shaky. Trick wanted to tell him to sit down, but any show of weakness in front of the hunters would be dangerous. They couldn’t be trusted. It was important for Trick to convince them that he was strong and capable.