Hunting Season (Aurora Sky

by Nikki Jefford

  Fane released my hands, walked to the stereo, and stopped in front of it.

  I stared at his tall, dark, lean form. Fane stayed that way, back to me, taking keen interest in the giant speaker.

  “Are you thinking we should blow out her eardrums when she walks in?” I asked. At this point, the only thing I had to work with was humor.

  “Actually, I was thinking I could throw this speaker at her when she opens the door.” Fane turned around and grinned for one brief second. “There are two of us and one of her.”

  “More like one and a half,” I said lifting my wrists. “And she’s got a gun.”

  Fane’s eyes roved the room. “Never underestimate a cornered animal. When will she be here?”

  “I don’t know. I punctured her tire on the hillside to slow her down.”

  Fane’s lips twitched right before he laughed. It was the best sound I’d heard all night.

  “You slashed her tires?” he asked, voice lifting.

  A smile broke over my lips. “One of them.”

  Fane smirked. “The princess doesn’t know how to change a tire. We could be waiting all night.” He paced the wall by the door.

  “Maybe they’ll leave before then,” I said nodding at the door. “Maybe one of Henry’s friends will drive Joss home.”

  Fane stopped pacing and frowned. “They won’t leave until they’ve made a decision about us.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “Maybe they’ll sleep on it.”

  Fane shook his head. “Diederick isn’t going into a peaceful slumber anytime soon—not after what happened tonight.”

  “Well, maybe he’ll come in to question us, at which time we can warn him about Valerie.”

  “And tell him what exactly?” Fane asked.

  “That if he hadn’t tied my hands, threatened me, and thrown me in here, I might have had a chance to warn him sooner.” My shoulder jerked. “I don’t know.”

  Fane’s jaw tightened. “And if it’s Valerie?”

  “Like you said, there are two of us. Whoever opens that door has to answer to us both. Together until the end.” I lifted my chin.

  Fane smiled briefly. “Together until the end,” he repeated. He took a step toward me. “This won’t be our ending, Aurora Sky. We have the whole world outside that door waiting to be explored. We have each other.”

  Tears swam in my eyes. I never felt them coming. Fane blurred before me. A warm wet line drew down my cheek. I swallowed.

  Fane didn’t step closer; his words and voice were comfort enough. It wasn't as if I could hug him back if he embraced me, anyway.

  Fane wrapped his thumbs around his belt loops. “When this is all over, I think we should get out of town.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I asked, blinking back my tears. I lifted both wrists to swipe the wet trail on my cheek.

  Fane’s eyes shone when I looked into them. “Wherever you want to go. I’ll take you there.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “The Eiffel Tower?”

  “Done.”

  “Taj Mahal?”

  “Why not?”

  “How about the Pyramids?”

  “I hope you like camels.”

  I laughed. “It would be nice to see something other than moose.”

  Fane stared into my eyes. “Just say the word.”

  “You’re telling me Joss won’t mind funding our world tour?”

  Fane’s chest expanded as he arched back. “I’ve got my own money.”

  “So long as you didn’t make it robbing graves,” I said. That’s how Giselle and her family got their start. It completely creeped me out.

  “I didn’t make a dime of it,” he said. “Been in the family for generations. I’ve just gotten to enjoy it longer than my ancestors.” He laughed without humor.

  I squinted at Fane. This was something he hadn’t mentioned before. He’d led me to believe that Joss paid their bills with his online rare books business.

  “Do you come from a wealthy family or something?” I asked.

  Fane removed his thumbs from his belt loop and folded his arms. “Something like that,” he answered cryptically.

  “So you inherited everything and, being unable to produce an heir, kept it for yourself?”

  No wonder Fane handled vampirism so well. It would be a lot easier to come and go as he pleased if he was financially set for life.

  “Not everything,” Fane said. “I had a younger brother. I’ve made sure to take care of each generation of his family.”

  “Anonymously?”

  “They know about me.”

  My jaw dropped. “What? They know you’re a vampire?”

  Fane nodded once. “That’s right.”

  There was a lot I didn’t know about Fane, but I hadn’t expected this. Not only did he have a lot of friends, he had family—actual family, as opposed to a vampire family.

  “And that doesn’t freak them out?” I asked.

  “Did Santa Claus freak you out when you were a kid?”

  I tilted my head, not sure where he was going with this. “What do you mean?”

  “Each new generation of Donados tells their children about me while they are still young. They believe in vampires the same way kids believe in Santa when their parents tell them he exists. Only in my case, it’s true.”

  “And they don’t go running off to tell their friends?” I asked. It seemed way too risky to share with kids.

  Fane shook his head. “They are sworn to secrecy. It’s the Donado family secret.”

  “Still seems like it would be tempting to brag to a friend,” I said.

  “Family comes first.”

  “Okay, so do you have a Christmas reunion or something with them every year?”

  Fane’s shoulders sagged. He broke eye contact, staring to the side of me.

  “I haven’t been back home in a while, but we keep in touch.”

  Interesting. So he considered Italy home. I supposed it made sense—he was born there, but I'd sorta thought he’d made America his home. My insides ached at the thought of Fane jetting off to join his family in Europe. I didn’t want him to leave me behind. He said he’d take me wherever I wanted to go, but until the exchange was made and Melcher was dealt with, I wasn’t going anywhere. How long would Fane wait for me?

  I swallowed. “I hope I can meet them some day.”

  Just as long as we lived through the night. It was ironic thinking about staying alive when we were undead.

  Fane crouched beside the stereo and looked over every square inch before straightening. He moved to the door and studied the hinges. He’d looked much more relaxed moments before when we were talking. At the moment we were trapped, but maybe I could distract him while we waited for the door to open.

  “What was your life like before you turned? I asked.

  Fane looked over his shoulder at me. “Let’s save that story for another day.”

  “Come on,” I said, looking around the room. “How else are we going to fill the time?” Not to mention if we waited, I might never get to hear it. I wanted to know about Fane before Alaska, before America, before vampirism. “I bet you were a troublemaker even back then.” I lifted my eyebrows in challenge.

  Fane moved away from the door, past the stereo, and leaned against a speaker. “There’s not much to tell,” he said slowly. “I was born into the nobili, an elite caste in Venice, kind of like the one percent as you call it in the states. I was privileged, but my entire future was planned out from the moment I was born, right down to the woman I would marry.”

  My nose wrinkled. “Thank God for the plague.”

  Fane shook his head solemnly. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen the lives it claimed.”

  I lowered my chin. Bad attempt at humor, but I was still grateful time had persevered Francesco Donado and led him to me.

  “Tell me about your life before the plague,” I said. “What did children of the ruling class do for kicks back in the day?”

  Fane stared
at his combat boots.

  “It’s not particularly exciting.”

  Then why didn’t he want to share? Now I really had to know.

  “Come on,” I coaxed. “I want to know all about your past.”

  Fane walked back to the door and tried the handle. His fist moved from one side to the next, but the knob stayed in place. There was no escaping the past, not inside the music room.

  My feet covered the ground. Within seconds I was beside Fane. It didn’t take long in a room that small.

  “Did you have to go off to battle?” I asked softly.

  My knowledge of history was sadly lacking, but history and war went together like cigarettes and smoke. What atrocities had Fane witnessed in his time? What battles had he been forced into by duty and honor?

  Fane turned suddenly, his face grim.

  “You can tell me,” I said. “I know I’m a new vampire, but I’ve seen plenty—done plenty—already.”

  Fane shook his head. “You have it all wrong. I was too young to be sent into battle or hold civic duty.” He pressed his lips together.

  I leaned to one side. “Then what?”

  Fane released a loud breath. “I was part of a stocking club, okay?”

  “A what?”

  Fane straightened. “You heard me. A stocking club.”

  That didn’t really help. I still had no idea what he was talking about. I’d heard the term blue stockings once, but I was pretty sure it referred to women readers in Britain. Fane wasn’t a woman. I wasn’t even sure he was bookish.

  “I heard you,” I said, “but what’s a stocking club? I assume you didn’t hang out with a bunch of guys in tights.”

  Fane closed his eyes briefly. “Well, sorta. They were theater clubs.”

  I nearly laughed. On one hand it sounded impossibly funny, but on the other, yeah, I could see Fane in a theater club. He’d always had a dramatic flair about him even in the way he stood.

  Fane cleared his throat. “We arranged banquets, plays, and mock battles for members, diplomatic embassies, and noble weddings.”

  Mock battles. He really had been sheltered—merely playing at fight, not actually engaging in it. Thank God.

  “The clubs all had different names. Mine was called the Eternal.” Fane turned his wrists up and looked at his pale arms. “At the time, I had no idea how fitting that word would become for me.”

  No kidding. Now we were both members of the eternal club.

  “We were patrons of the less dignified arts,” Fane continued. “Or so our fathers’ believed. They preferred marble busts and gilded paintings to musicians and actors.”

  “Thank goodness for the youth of Italy,” I said.

  Fane leaned forward. “Thank God for the youth of today.” He paced the far side of the room. “I’m glad I didn’t get old and oppressive, donning a black robe like my father in service to the republic. He was nothing more than a political monk sworn to duty.”

  The black robe I could picture, but not the obedience that went with the position.

  “I’m glad you didn’t age,” I said. “Aside from the obvious reasons, I can’t imagine you in some stuffy political chamber following strict rules. I’m sorry about the plague, though. I imagine some of your friends died.”

  Well, all his friends died at some point, but it would have felt different back then.

  “The plague killed nearly a third of the population,” Fane said.

  I covered my mouth with both hands in dismay.

  “Venice being a warm, humid seaport made it an ideal location for the disease's spread.” Fane sniffed. “Most people thought it was punishment from God.”

  “When it didn’t kill you, did you think it was an act of God?” I asked, more curious than ever.

  Fane shook his head. “I never expected to survive. I can still hear the despair in my mother’s sobs as she cried at my bedside. My body began shutting down, and the end was nigh. Everything came to a stop.” Fane stomped on the floor for emphasis.

  We stared at each other during his lingering pause. After everything he’d been through, Fane had a right to be dramatic—especially since his early life had been encircled by theatrics.

  Fane slapped a hand over his heart. “Then I felt it, the slow murmurs of my life returning, blood rushing, heart pumping, my limbs trembling.”

  My fingers twitched as he spoke.

  “At first I was a numb shell of a person. Death clung to me like a shroud. My mother considered it a miracle I even survived. Then I had my first taste of blood—nothing devious. I found it in the kitchen inside a pail used to collect blood when our cook slaughtered one of the pigs for supper. I drank it when no one was looking, the first time anyway. Not only did I recover fully, but I felt stronger, my senses keener. At first we believed I’d dodged a bullet, until our cook caught me drinking blood.”

  I grimaced. Fane was lucky he’d lived in a time of do-it-yourself at home butchery. It wasn't like they had blood bags back then.

  “Blood cravings?” I asked.

  Fane nodded. “I lost my appetite for food, but I was as thirsty as a newborn babe. The moment I saw the blood, I knew I needed to drink it the way all mammals know they must drink water. It filled me instantly with life and vitality.”

  “I imagine the cook found that odd.”

  “She thought I was a vampire.”

  “What?” I cried. Odd as it was, I hadn’t been expecting Fane’s cook to actually get it right.

  “You have to remember that people were much more superstitious back then,” Fane said. “There were many myths circulating through Europe about vampirism. They were known as the chewing dead. Corpses suspected of being vampires were buried with a brick lodged between their jaws to prevent them from gnawing on neighboring cadavers or going after surviving family members.” Fane squeezed his thigh. “Our poor cook thought I was going to prey on my family and everyone in their employ while they were sleeping. She took off one night, but not before sharing her suspicions with the rest of the staff.” Fane smirked.

  “What did your family say?” I asked.

  “Oh, they thought it was lunacy, naturally. Donados have always had steady heads on their shoulders. Of course, things got interesting when it became apparent I wasn’t aging.” Fane patted his pocket. “Had to leave my smokes in the car, didn’t I?”

  Forget cigarettes!

  “What happened next?” I asked.

  Fane hooked a thumb in the pocket he’d been patting.

  “My mom feared I’d be decapitated. She and Father decided I must leave Venice and never stay in one place too long. They plotted with my brother that we should stay in contact for as long as they lived. I saw them again before they died. They passed me off as their grandson, the spitting image of his father.” Fane snorted. “It was on my mother’s deathbed that she made my brother and me promise to keep the family together as long as my life continued. And so I returned to Venice every couple decades to check in with my brother’s children then their children and their children’s children and so on down the Donado family line.”

  I shook my head. “It’s just so wild. And Joss? How did you meet up with him?”

  “Our paths didn’t cross for another few centuries.”

  “Life without Joss, imagine that?” My eyebrows jumped.

  Fane hooked his second thumb in his other pocket. “Joss wasn’t as fortunate as I. He lived in a small village in England during a cholera outbreak. By this time, I’d lived and traveled enough to figure out I was immune to disease of any kind. I always had my eyes open for others like me. All I knew at that time was it had something to do with disease, but what made it trigger vampirism in a few random souls was a mystery to me—one I was hell bent on getting to the bottom of. When news of an outbreak reached my ears, I headed straight into the thick of things in search of answers, drawn to contagion like a soldier to war. By the time I arrived in England, the cholera outbreak had reached a fever pitch, killing nearly a thousand souls
a day.”

  “My god.”

  Fane frowned.

  “In some places the victims were buried so soon after being declared dead that premature burial occurred regularly.”

  “Holy shit.”

  Fane met my eye. “Josslyn was one of those unfortunate souls buried alive in a mass grave.”

  I shook my head. I’d seen plenty of terrifying things in the past year, but the image of bodies being dumped into mass graves, while some of the people were still alive, horrified me. Maybe I’d been too hard on Joss.

  “I pulled several poor souls from the pit after hearing their miserable groans.” Fane removed his thumbs from his pockets and mimed lifting a body. “I thought they might go through the transformation like me—weak at first before making a full recovery. I even tried feeding them blood, but eventually they all died.”

  “Until Joss,” I said. I was beginning to appreciate their friendship more, especially after all the trouble Fane went to hauling half-dead humans out of a mass grave looking for others like him.

  “Joss pulled himself out of the body pit. I saw him crawl out on his hands and knees. Once he made it out, he collapsed onto his back. He just lay there staring wide-eyed at the sky with this dazed look on his face.” Fane turned to me. “I saw the same look on you that day in gym class.”

  I lifted my wrists and pressed them against my chest. “Yeah, you called it. Dead girl walking. I didn’t even know vampires were real at that point, let alone that I was one of them.”

  “Your employer must have given you blood,” Fane said.

  I looked down at my wrists. “Transfusion, direct to the veins.”

  Fane frowned. “I don’t understand why he’s creating vampires.”

  “Creating vampires to kill other vampires,” I said. “That’s Melcher. He believes they’re a threat to humanity, God’s mistake.”

  Fane raised an eyebrow. “And who is he to decide?”

  “He’s the one with the military backing,” I answered.

  “And who would replace him if he died? Does he have a second in command?”

  “He had a partner, but he killed her. I suspect he and Jared have been working together a long time. Fortunately, Jared won’t be a problem for much longer.”