Vampire Legacy 04 - Blood of My Blood

by Taylor, Karen E

  The cabin was not nearly as easy to find as the town. I hadn't wanted to ask for directions, even had the motel desk clerk been able to give them. After driving past the road about four times, I finally glimpsed the small sign that announced their road. Parking the car on the side of the main road, I walked down the dirt road, looking at the few cabins that lined it. The first three were easy to eliminate; two had children playing outside and one was completely boarded over.

  I walked further in, deeper into the woods. The road was overgrown now with weeds and was getting rougher. I spotted one cabin, way back into the woods, and followed the path until I saw a woman picking something out of a garden. Not this one, I thought, but from there I saw the roof of another cabin, in a much more secluded area.

  I approached it warily, looking for signs of life. That it was occupied was obvious, but either the inhabitants weren't home or they were sleeping. As I moved closer, I saw the name on the mailbox. And smiled. "Bingo. I've found you."

  I used the ointment Victor had suggested to hide my natural body scent, smearing it over my skin and clothes. Then I found a tall sturdy tree and climbed up as far as I could and still keep under the cover of the leaves. I settled my back into the tree trunk, straddling a large branch, and swung my legs back and forth. All I had to do now was wait for the sun to set.

  While I waited, I concentrated on the cabin, searching, as Victor had taught me, for the minds of the two inside. And there they were, sleeping, entangled in each other. I probed a little harder until I could distinguish between the two and separated them slightly. The obviously feminine one I pushed aside. The masculine one I surrounded with a feeling of discontentment. Even from this distance, I could sense his small insecurities and past disagreements that could be fueled and fired. Mitch's mind was much less protected than I'd expected, his thoughts more chaotic, and the seeds that Victor and I had endeavored to plant during our training had grown and twisted.

  Then the sun set, he awoke and I was instantly thrown out of his mind. It felt like I'd been doused with cold water; I shivered and renewed my grip on the branches of the tree.

  About an hour later, just as I thought they weren't going to leave the cabin that night and I'd resigned myself to sleeping in my tree instead of a nice comfortable motel bed, the door opened.

  Holding my breath, not daring to move, I watched them come out of the cabin. I caught a flash of pale naked skin and then saw them transform. It was not the painful transformation I'd seen countless times in movies and on television, but a quick and sharp change, a rapid casting off of one garment in favor of another. It was beautiful in a way, beautiful and terrifying. Although Victor had warned me, I was still unprepared for the sight of a silver wolf and a large tawny feline where their human forms had been.

  As they loped under my tree, the cat form hesitated. I saw the twitch of her tail, the gleam of her eyes. Huge paws with tearing claws caught at the base of the tree, a tremor seemed to run under her skin and I feared she had scented me. But she merely shook herself and ran out into the woods to follow the wolf.

  I gave them time to get far enough away and then I breathed. "She didn't notice me," I whispered to the trees. "She couldn't smell me, she didn't know I was here."

  I allowed myself a victorious smile, and quietly climbed down out of the tree. Walking lightly on the grass growing alongside the gravel driveway, jumping at every sound in the woods, I found my car where I'd left it and drove back to my motel. Tomorrow morning I would be back.

  On the way back to the hotel, I stopped off at a fast-food drive-through and took the bag back to my room. It wouldn't do to show my face around town too much. Someone might recognize me. And for all I knew, they could be in town as well, scouring the streets for victims for their inhuman hunger.

  Victor had explained to me that vampires did not need to kill for blood. "A small amount will do just fine," he'd said. "Only the very newest and most inexperienced of us kill. And those that do, do not survive long. The rest of us have learned that moderation is the key to long life." Even knowing that, I couldn't get away from the image of my mother as murderer. She had worn that title for as long as I'd known of her.

  "She's evil," I'd said to Victor once, and he'd laughed.

  "Evil is in the eye of the beholder, my dear. And I doubt that you would find too many people who would agree with you. But have it your way. She's certainly caused me enough grief for me not to dispute you."

  I made a few phone calls before I got ready for bed. One to the moving company to make sure that they were set up and ready to go for the day after tomorrow. And one to Angelo to tell him that I'd be arriving tomorrow night. No one picked up at my house. Moon's voice was still on the greeting of the answering machine and when I heard it, I felt my mouth tighten in anger. I left a short message, hoping Angelo would get it in time.

  Then I set the motel alarm clock for four in the morning and lay down to sleep, trying to calm myself by counting off the red beads on my necklace.

  I burst through the cemetery dirt. All around me lie the bodies of people I have known who have died. They are laid out in a straight line, the feet of the first corpse close to the head of the next. I follow the trail of loved ones and acquaintances, all dead. Some I have all but forgotten, but seeing their quiet pale faces brings them back to me. And with each new face and each new body, I grow angrier. I can't cry, I can't turn away. All I can do is follow the path. And look at their faces. I begin to walk faster, then run, but the supply of bodies seems endless. I have quit looking at their faces; I have quit counting them; they seem to stretch on past the horizon.

  But suddenly, the line is ended with the body of Hyde. And just past him, in a clearing, is my mother's cabin. I can hear her inside with Mitch. They are laughing, they are talking and laughing. And they are making love. I hate her. And I will make her pay.

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  « ^ »

  I woke with the alarm, determined to do whatever I needed to do to drive my mother and her lover apart. I showered, covered my body with the scent-disguise ointment and dressed once again in black jeans and shirt. I rubbed my hands over my clothes as well, in case they had picked up what Victor'd referred to as "human scent." Lacing up my boots I felt a rush of excitement. Today was the day. "Wish me luck, Victor," I whispered to him.

  I almost heard his mocking laughter. "You will need it, my girl. But hold to the plan and you can't fail."

  I tossed the leather jacket over my shoulder, collected my bags and checked out of the hotel. "I want to get an early start." I smiled at the tired desk clerk, who'd been sleeping when I showed up.

  "Early?" He pushed a receipt to me to sign. "It's not early, it's too early for that. It's late."

  "Whatever. Thanks."

  I dropped the car off at the rental agency's office in town, pushing the keys into the night slot. Then, because I found one open, I stopped at a convenience store and purchased two large thermal jugs. After filling them with coffee, I was ready.

  Even with all the errands, even after walking to the cabin, dawn was still an hour or so away. And although I could see the light of a fire inside and seemed to see movement, I decided I would be safer if I hid my bags and climbed the tree again.

  Not more than two or three minutes after I'd settled into the same branches I'd occupied the previous morning, the cat form that was my mother ran past. She didn't stop this time, but raced for the front door. There she phased back into human form. I held back a small gasp; even though I couldn't see her face, I could see that she and I could be twins. Her skin was probably slightly paler than mine, her breasts a little more full, but I could pass for her. I was sure of it.

  She opened the door. "Hi, honey, I'm home," she called, and I rolled my eyes. Just like some stupid sitcom on television, I thought. Then the door shut and I was alone in the woods.

  They talked for a while; I couldn't hear the words, but the murmur of their voices carried through the t
rees. I concentrated on the mind of Mitch as I'd found it that morning; he seemed apprehensive and edgy. I pushed myself into his head just a little harder, and the door opened. I could see the glow of his eyes, peering into the night, searching for me. Then he shook his head and closed the door.

  I smiled. "Yeah, you sense me. But you can't possibly know I'm here. Besides, it'll be dawn soon and time for all good vampires to be in bed."

  Just like in the dream, they laughed. And they made love before they slept. I could feel the passion in his mind; I could feel the love the two of them shared. It was strong, so very strong. And quite beautiful. And, I thought with a twisted smile, so soon to be gone.

  When the sun finally rose, I relaxed slightly, since now there was no fear that either of them would spot me. Even to open the shutters slightly would mean death.

  Mitch fell asleep; I could feel his mind drifting. My mother, though, was awake. And upset. "Good," I said to myself as I climbed out of the tree, retrieved my bags and quietly approached the front porch, "I want you upset. And you'd better get used to it, bitch, 'cause it's only going to get worse for you."

  I sat up against the door, leaning the side of my head up against it so that I could better hear what was happening inside. She was moving around, making coffee, it sounded like, talking to herself about being hungry. Fretting, I knew, about the man who lay asleep upstairs. The man who was about to dream what I wanted him to dream.

  Seeing them together hadn't changed my mind; it had only emphasized to me what she had and what I lacked. So I turned the dream on full power, pouring into it all that I could remember of my escape from a premature grave, filling it with the despair of that moment, the total despair of all my subsequent years. The deaths, the tears, the wasted lives and the anger: I channeled it all into Mitch's sleeping mind. And most of all, I sent him complete and utter hatred of the creature known as Deirdre Griffin.

  "Kill her," I whispered. "Kill the bitch who made me what I am." Realizing, as I said the words, that I had lied to Victor. I did want her dead.

  "Kill her." I burrowed deeper into his mind, still hissing words of hate and anger. "Kill her. She deserves to die. Kill her!"

  When I heard my words in his voice, I knew that I'd succeeded. Now all I had to do was wait for her to leave. Victor had assured me that she'd leave. "What else would she do?" he'd said. "Not that she'd fear that he'd kill her, although that thought will occur to her. After all, she killed her creator." He'd stopped for a while, then continued, his eyes harder. "No, what she will be most upset about will be that he doesn't love her. That will drive her away. She will be devastated and she will run." He'd laughed then, and I'd laughed with him. "As I've said before, love is an emotion a vampire can't afford."

  The day stretched before me, gloriously bright. Mitch's sleeping mind was still troubled, fretting over the images and emotions I poured into it repeatedly. Most gratifying, though, was the total and utter despair that radiated from my mother. She cried and, feeling the heat of her tears on my own face, I smiled and laughed. "It worked, Victor," I said. "We did it." I remained curled up next to the front door of the cabin, reveling in my success, until movement within sent me back up the tree.

  The sun had barely set when the door opened and my mother came out. She was dressed in jeans, a flannel shirt and heavy hiking boots, a backpack hanging from her arm. She looked pale and thoroughly miserable, stopping only once to stare back at what used to be her happy little love nest, before disappearing off into the woods.

  I climbed down from the tree for the final time and followed in her path. When she knocked on the door of the closest cabin, the woman let her in. I gripped the beads around my neck. "Keep her there," I ordered the woman. "Give me an extra day to get away. I don't care if you have to break your back to do it. Just keep her there."

  Then I headed back through the woods and walked into the front door of the cabin. "Hi, honey, I'm home." I breathed the words, and stepped into the kitchen. Taking a mug from the cabinet, I filled it with coffee from one of the jugs, then added a dash of Angelo's control liquid. I sniffed at it; it smelled like coffee. I dabbed a little more of the disguise ointment on my hands and my hair. Then I quietly went up the stairs.

  Mitch was still sleeping. I took a minute to look at the man that my mother loved so desperately. He was attractive, I thought, his face was rugged but handsome, and what part of his body I could see looked well-formed and firm. But his hair was totally gray. I wondered about this, since he didn't look old enough to have gone this color. It can't have been his age. Victor was far older than Mitch and his hair was dark.

  He moved then and opened his eyes. They were steel blue and, had I never stared into Victor's eyes, I'd have thought them the most intense thing I'd ever seen. But these eyes smiled for my mother when they smiled at me. I held my breath. Would he recognize the difference as Victor had? I'd have to keep away from him physically and emotionally. Fortunately, I had a diversion already planned.

  "Dressed already, Deirdre?" His voice was smooth. "Going to go over and play with your toy again?"

  I smiled. "No, my love. Something even better." I handed him the mug and he took a long sip.

  "Ugh," he said, making a face, and I tensed, worried that he tasted the potion. "I'd forgotten that we were out of cream." But he took another sip anyway. "Thanks. That's exactly what I needed. But tell me, what could possibly be better than playing with your toy?"

  I smiled, reached my hand over and stroked his cheek. "I have a surprise for you. How does a second honeymoon in New Orleans sound?"

  "Sounds wonderful, actually. I've been getting kind of bored lately."

  "Gee, thanks a lot." I forced a smile. "But I know exactly what you mean, Mitch. And I can promise that this trip will be anything but boring. So drink the rest of your coffee and get ready. I've made all the arrangements and we don't have much time. Our flight leaves at ten."

  "That soon?" He tossed the blankets back. "I guess I'd better shower, then, and get moving. Care to join me?"

  I turned away and walked over to the dresser. "No, not this time, my love. I'll get us packed and call a cab for the airport."

  "Great." He hesitated in the doorway for a minute, then shrugged. "This is a wonderful idea, Deirdre. And just what we needed."

  I turned and watched him head into the bathroom, heard the water turn on. "No, Mitch," I whispered with a smile, "it's not at all what you needed. But it works for me."

  * * *

  PART FOUR

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  « ^ »

  "So," Sam said as we sped down the main road out of town, "aren't you going to say something about my car?"

  I looked around at the interior: leather seats, complicated dashboard with more dials than anyone could possibly want, pretty decent stereo system. "It's nice?" I ventured. "Is it new?"

  Sam laughed. "I should've remembered, Deirdre, you're totally unimpressed with cars. Yeah, it's new. A birthday present from Vivienne."

  "Ah." I ran a hand over the seat. "A very expensive present, no doubt. And how is Vivienne these days?"

  "She's fine. Or at least I guess she is; she's been in Paris the last couple of weeks."

  "Paris? How lovely."

  He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Cadre business, of course. She asked me to come along, but to be honest, I didn't relish the thoughts of being the only warm body there." He gave a bitter laugh. "It's not always comfortable being used as arm candy."

  "Arm candy?"

  "Yeah, you know, sort of like a trophy wife."

  "Ah."

  "And the meetings? God, I thought psychiatrists were boring. You have no idea. The tracing of the various houses, who bit whom and when, catching up on hundreds of years of small talk. I just couldn't stomach it. So I figured it would be a perfect time to visit you and Mitch."

  I winced at the name. "Your timing was excellent, Sam."

  He glanced over at me. "And you still don't want to
talk about it? Are you sure? It's what I'm good at, after all. And maybe I can come up with some insights…"

  "No." I interrupted him and laid a hand on his arm. "Just drive."

  "But…"

  "Just drive, Sam. I want to be as far away from here as possible by dawn."

  "Oh, yeah, dawn. I guess I'd better think about finding you a place to spend the day."

  "Or not" I turned away from him and looked out the window.

  "You're not allowed to talk like that, Deirdre."

  "Advice from the doctor?"

  "No. Words from a friend." He reached over and gave me a small punch on the arm. "Besides, if you burst into flames in my new car, I'd never forgive you."

  I permitted myself a small wry smile. "I will try to keep that in mind, Sam. At the very least, I promise to get out of the car before I spontaneously combust."

  Sam kept driving for hours, humming along with the songs on the stereo. His voice had a peaceful sound, comforting somehow. I concentrated on the night's scenery flowing past my window and felt the miles accumulate behind us. He stopped for gas once, but said nothing, sensing that I wished no conversation. He pumped his own, paid and got back behind the wheel without a word. And still we drove, his sleek car eating the miles. Every minute carried us further away from the cabin and my previous life, until there seemed to be no previous life, there was merely the car and the road and the endless night.

  At one point, I turned away from the window and glanced over at him; he was relaxed at the wheel, totally in control, and if the smug smile on his face was any indication, he felt pretty good about the situation. I thought about Bob the previous night; must be that white-knight syndrome, I thought, they all want to be rescuers. Even Mitch fell into that trap. But no, I was not going to go there. Not now. I sighed and stretched my legs out in front of me. Elly's boots looked so large on my feet; I clacked them together and laughed.