“Won’t you? You’ll be strong and fast and powerful. You never again have to feel weak or helpless in a society full of sorcerers.”
I closed my eyes. He knew my heart better than I had given him credit for, but I still would never do it.
“Look at me,” he said.
I knew better than that. With the power of hypnosis, he might be able to make me drink the potion against my will, and I knew, despite the temptation, despite the fact that he had spoken to my deepest, darkest desires, that the one thing I could not do was drink that potion.
“Do you want to die a meaningless death?” he asked.
Maybe not meaningless. There was still the holy water I had consumed. Jason had never really said one way or the other if it would work, but I tried to have faith, because in the end, it was the faith that mattered more than anything else. It was the faith that had kept us all safe on that terrible day in high school when a bus had collided with a semi. It was faith that had burned a cross into my palm and saved me from Luke’s hypnotic gaze.
Faith, have faith. My blood will poison him. He’ll burn up from the inside.
“I should warn you that I don’t have quite as long to torture you as I had with Belinda. I won’t count on us remaining undiscovered here for long, but I can try to tempt you with a few nibbles. Let’s see...the upper arm is a nice place to start.”
He drew up my short sleeve and lowered his head, very slowly. I could feel hot, wet tears on my face, and I choked back a sob. Have faith, I kept repeating, have faith.
But what if it didn’t work? I needed to have faith in myself. Faith that I would not give in as Belinda had, and allow myself to turn into a monster. Faith that whatever wrongs may have been done to me, I loved my family enough to suffer this pain to the last.
Think of Christina, I told myself. I forced her angelic, three-year-old face into my mind and stared at it with my heart. She would be the one to suffer if I failed.
Razor-sharp teeth pressed into the soft flesh of my upper arm. Then with a rapid slash like that of a knife, they cut their way through skin and muscle as he drank.
My eyes squeezed shut, but even though I could have, I didn’t scream. Something like a hoarse whimper might have escaped my throat, but I kept my focus on the pictures in my mind. Christina’s face had been replaced by Adam’s, and again I told myself to be strong for him.
Frank lifted his head, and I held my breath, unwilling to move or open my eyes.
“There’s blood trickling down your arm,” Frank whispered. My heart plummeted. He didn’t even sound like he was in pain. “What a waste. The potion would help. There would be no more pain, and you could live forever. Powerfully.”
It wasn’t going to work. How could I have even let myself hope it would be so easy? A vampire hunter would know more than a few tricks to make their blood poisonous to vampires, and I had let myself believe that it was a simple matter of drinking holy water.
“Where shall I bite next?” Frank asked.
It didn’t even occur to me not to answer, because I had a suggestion all ready for him. Mutely, I pointed at my throat. Get it over with, I was telling him.
He chuckled, a sound that ended rather abruptly. “Maybe the wrist.”
He lifted my hand to his, razor sharp teeth pressing against the smooth flesh, but he did not bite. Instead, he dropped my arm and fell backward a step.
That’s when I dared to open my eyes again. His face was twisted in pain and rage. “What have you done?”
I didn’t let my face give anything away. I had no idea how the poison would effect him, how serious it would be, how long it would last, or if it would kill him, but if I broke into a run, then maybe, just maybe, I could survive this encounter. If only I didn’t have the twisted ankle to contend with, but I would simply have to ignore it.
My feet began moving before my brain caught up with them, but when I paused to fling open the office door, Frank caught me by the heel and dragged me back.
That’s when I screamed.
“What did you do?” Frank demanded again. This time, when he spoke, smoke drifted out of his mouth, and he began to gag. He let go of my heel and put his hands around his throat in the universal sign for choking. Blood trailed out of the corner of his mouth.
I scrambled to my feet and flung myself at the door, but once again, Frank stopped me before I could get there. He was weakening, but still much stronger than me. This time, he closed his fist around my ankle until I heard bone crack.
Once again, I screamed, and fresh tears spilled from my eyes. I’m not sure whether a broken bone hurts more or less than a vampire’s teeth tearing into your flesh. Suffice to say, I would avoid them both if you can.
Frank could no longer speak, but he wasn’t done fighting. His eyes told me if he was going to die, then he would at least take me with him. He could barely breathe, blood flowed freely from his mouth, and there was a new wound forming on his stomach, as if something was eating him from the inside out. His clean white shirt was stained with blood.
He dragged me toward him, clawing with both hands while I tried to resist with my mere human strength, further encumbered by a broken ankle.
I could tell when his strength continued to wane. He had nearly dragged me close enough to rip out my throat when I was suddenly able to slip away a bit. Crawling on my back, both hands clawing at the scorched carpet for extra purchase, I slipped away.
He roared, a sound like that of a dying animal. For a brief, shining moment I thought I might make it out of the room alive, if not unscathed.
Then, with one last burst of energy, he lifted my shirt and sank his teeth into my belly, the only thing he could reach. He didn’t drink, he tore, his goal clearly to do as much damage as possible.
I’m not sure when he died. By the time he did, the pain had become too much for me, and I lost consciousness.
34
THE VAMPIRE MUST HAVE KILLED me, but as I slowly blinked back into awareness, I was struck by how painful death felt. People always described it as a release from pain, an end to normal, human suffering, and yet there I lay, weak, nauseated, and with a throbbing in my head that made it difficult to think.
Sensations slowly penetrated, but they seemed too loud, or bright, or real. The light from a dozen candles illuminated an otherwise dark room, tearing into my eyes like shafts of brightest sunlight. Heat enveloped me, surrounding my body in satiny fire that constricted my lungs. Somewhere nearby, a low voice rumbled, but the deafening volume neither helped me identify its owner, nor make sense of the sounds.
I started tossing my head back and forth, kicking at the constricting folds of heat I later identified as sheets. Then I felt a hand pressing me down, and something cold touched my lips. Liquid spilled into my mouth, bitter and oddly gritty, but though I tried, I couldn’t seem to spit it out.
The pain eased. I risked opening my eyes, but saw little more than the outline of a stark bedroom before I shut them again. The low rumble of sound became coherent, and familiar.
“Evan?” I said.
“I’m here. How do you feel?”
“Hot.” I kicked the covers further away, but when cool air hit bare skin, the fact of my nakedness penetrated my foggy mind. I scrambled to retrieve the covers, but Evan beat me to it, tucking a sheet around my shoulders.
Once again, I tried opening my eyes, and Evan swam into view. He looked exhausted and unkempt, several days’ worth of stubble shadowing his face, his eyes bloodshot.
“Am I alive?” I asked, my voice creaking.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I saved you.”
That didn’t answer much, but as sensations returned to my body, so did the realization that Evan was beyond exhausted–he was drained. Magical exhaustion, or draining, can happen when a sorcerer overextends himself, and it can lead to serious complications.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I will be, when I get some sleep. I wanted t
o make sure you would be okay first.”
“Will I?” The pain was slowly easing, but I still felt weak.
“Yes. Now, go back to sleep.”
I didn’t want to go to sleep, I wanted to ask questions, but no sooner had he made the suggestion, then sleep seemed all I was capable of doing.
* * *
I woke several times over the next few days, just long enough to drink a few potions Evan forced down my throat before falling back into exhausted sleep. Each time I woke, the angle of the sunlight slanting through the drapes told me some time had passed, though I never knew how much. The sparsely furnished room didn’t even have an alarm clock, just a bed and next to it, a padded rocking chair. Evan often sat in the chair when I woke, and at first, his eyes were full of fear and exhaustion. Gradually, he began to look better–less drained. As he recovered from his magical overexertion, his appearance improved as well, his shirts becoming less wrinkled, his hair brushed, and finally, his face cleanly shaved.
The day he came to me, clean shaven, I asked him not to drug me back to sleep again.
“I haven’t been,” Evan said, “at least, not after the first couple of nights. You’re just that exhausted.”
“How long have I been here?”
“About a week.”
“A week!” I nearly sat up, before remembering my naked state, and sliding back under the covers. “Where are my clothes?”
“They didn’t make it,” Evan said, “but I went into town yesterday and got you some new ones. Hope I got the right sizes.”
I rubbed my fists into my eyes, trying to blink away sleep. Honestly, if the clothes covered me, I didn’t care what size they were. I felt awkward and vulnerable this way, especially when I considered that he must have looked. Frank had torn into my guts, and when I gently explored my abdomen with my fingers, it still felt tender there. It had probably been easier for him to work on me without clothes, I reasoned, but still, I couldn’t help but remember the kisses...and the roses.
“Kaitlin,” I said, suddenly remembering the fire. “Is she okay? Did everyone get out?”
Evan leaned forward, stilling the motion of the rocking chair. “Everyone’s fine. I think Frank just wanted to smoke you out. But the apartment complex was a total loss.”
“Poor Kaitlin.” How was she going to replace all her things? I suddenly understood what she’d meant when she’d said she wished I had taken my parents’ money. If only pride hadn’t gotten in the way. If only it still wasn’t getting in the way. “Do you know where she’s living now? Is she staying with her mom?”
“The whole town has been pitching in to help them out. Most of them are staying at this new apartment complex at the edge of town. It’s more expensive, but someone made a rather large anonymous cash donation.”
“You?” I asked.
“I’ve been busy.”
“I see.” Using the sheet to cover myself, I slowly sat upright, scanning the plain white walls of the rather large bedroom. A master bedroom, probably. A set of double doors led into an elegant bathroom suite, drapes hung over a large bay window, and a ceiling fan spun from the vaulted ceiling. Otherwise, the place was a blank slate.
“Where am I?” I asked.
“My new place. Master Wolf kicked me out–his version of a graduation ceremony–just after I apologized to your parents. I’ve had this place waiting for months, but as you can see, it’s not decorated.”
“I don’t think my family bought the apology,” I said, vaguely, remembering Nicolas’s rampage.
“I didn’t really mean it.” He smiled, and his eyes sparkled.
Inside, I felt a growing sense of unease. My pain and sleep-muddled mind was missing something, I knew, something important.
“The clothes I got you are in the bathroom.” Evan gestured towards the double doors. “Why don’t you get cleaned and dressed, and we can talk after? I’ll make some sandwiches.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You need food.” His tone told me he wouldn’t take no for an answer, but I didn’t protest. After taking two seconds to think about it, I remembered that magical healing often saps a person’s appetite along with their strength, but the food was no less necessary.
As soon as he left, I made my way into the luxurious bathroom, complete with whirlpool tub, large shower with multiple shower heads, and a two-person sink. To my relief, the shower also contained a bench, which I eagerly used to help fend off the waves of dizziness that attacked.
The warm water felt good, as if it were washing away the aches and pains. I reveled in it, washing my hair twice with the shampoo I found, before stepping out and wrapping a large, soft towel around myself.
When I looked in the mirror, I saw that a week without food had taken its toll on my body. My face appeared gaunt, and dark circles rimmed my eyes. The clothes Evan bought for me, including, somewhat to my embarrassment, plain white underwear and a bra, were indeed in the correct size, except they hung loosely on my sickened body. That, more than anything else, told me how close to death I had been. No normal doctor could have repaired me. Most sorcerers wouldn’t have been able to heal me, for that matter. I even thought, though I hated to consider the implications, that Juliana would have had trouble.
When I emerged from the bathroom, dressed and freshly clean, Evan sat on a metal folding chair that hadn’t been there before. Another folding chair sat across from him, a card table set up in between, along with two plates of sandwiches. Beside the table, the drapes had been pulled back, letting bright afternoon sunlight spill into the room.
He looked up at me and smiled, gesturing to the plates. “My pantry isn’t fully stocked yet, but since you haven’t eaten in a week, I’d rather not challenge your body right now.”
I remained frozen in the bathroom doorway, staring at him, and wondering. Images began to flash through my mind, chief among them that of Evan, crushing a large tree into splinters. That had been the closest he’d come to showing me how powerful he really was. No one knew for sure, not that sorcerers typically advertised. That would be like telling an enemy nation exactly how much firepower you had. Yet he had given me a glimpse the other day, for no better reason than to talk me out of wanting to fight a vampire. And then, this week, he had reached into the very core of his power to bring me back from the brink of death.
“Cassie?” Evan frowned.
“How strong are you?” The words escaped me before I could stop them and properly consider the affront.
Indeed, his face hardened, taking on that mask he had perfected, and that cracked for only a few people. “Strong enough.”
I supposed that was all that really mattered, and I wished desperately that I hadn’t asked. I didn’t really want to know, anyway. It wasn’t as if I planned to have anything to do with magic any longer, and I didn’t want to step away from that world fearing someone who had been so good to me. Or was it too late? My heart raced, but in response to fear, nerves, anxiety, sickness, or lingering physical attraction? Magically induced physical attraction, I mentally corrected myself.
“Does anyone know I’m here?” I asked when I had dutifully finished my sandwich.
“No. I didn’t have a phone until I went to the store yesterday.” He dug a cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to me. “Call whoever you like to let them know you’re okay.”
I reached for the phone automatically, but when I held it, I didn’t know who to call. It served my former parents right if they thought I was dead. I didn’t feel the same way about my brothers and sisters, of course, but if I called Nicolas and told him where I was, he would go ballistic. He had eagerly inherited his father’s dislike of the Blackwoods.
I should call Kaitlin, and find out if she still had room at her place for me. If that didn’t work...well, I didn’t want to think about it. I would probably have to go to my Uncle John.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” Evan said, after a tense silence. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me. First door
to the right at the bottom of the stairs is the den, and the only room I’ve really furnished.”
“Thanks.”
As soon as he’d gone, I dialed Nicolas’s number, then I held my breath as I waited for him to answer.
“Hello?” he said.
“It’s Cassie.”
“Cassie! Oh, thank God!” He let out a loud whoosh of breath. “I really thought you were dead. God, where have you been? Why didn’t you call?”
“I’m sorry, I’ve been unconscious or asleep. It was bad.”
He sucked in a breath. “We found a lot of blood in your office, and a pile of dust Jason said was Frank. He was pretty old.”
“At least he’s dead.”
“Where are you?” Nicolas asked again. “How did you survive?”
“Evan saved me. He’s been nursing me back to health all week.”
Not unexpectedly, Nicolas sucked in another deep breath. “Evan?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re fine?” To my surprise, Nicolas began to laugh. “Fine? That’s what you think you are? Do you have any idea how much you owe him?”
I could feel the blood run from my face. Of course I owed him. It was the most obvious thing in the world. Hadn’t I realized, if I used the crystal, that I might end up indebted to him? Either I still needed a lot of sleep, or I had been intentionally refusing to acknowledge the truth.
“Cassie,” Nicolas said, his voice a bare whisper, “he owns you.”
The phone fell from my numb fingers to land with a thud on the table. Distantly, I heard Nicolas shouting something, but he may as well have been on the moon.
He owns you, Nicolas had said. The words pierced my soul and twisted my heart. He owns you. They echoed through my mind as if bouncing off the walls of an immense canyon.
“Cassie!” The one, clear word broke through my mental fog and I picked up the phone.
“I love you, Nicolas. Tell the kids I love them.” With that, I hung up.
Stay strong, I tried to tell myself. It’s Evan. He’s a friend. He wouldn’t hurt you. At least not physically. Or intentionally.
Outside the large picture window, the world moved on, blissfully unaware of my dilemma. I could see all the way to the lake, through a cluster of trees, and I watched as several boats raced by.
Cassie Scot: ParaNormal Detective Page 25
