Bait

by Kasi Blake

In a split-second they went from dead of night to bright sunlight. She cried out and squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden burst of pain. Shocking heat tripled her discomfort, like being inside of an oven. Sweat broke out on her face and under the heavy fall of hair on her neck. Without looking around she knew she wasn’t home. He had purposely taken her somewhere else.

  Carefully, she opened her eyes a slit and took in the foreign landscape under the shield of one hand. They were standing in the middle of nowhere. Beneath her feet, sandy sun-baked earth with cracks like a mosaic piece of pottery stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction as the fiery ball in the sky beat down on them relentlessly.

  There was a diner nearby, looking like a mirage, housed in a metallic train car with big red letters on top that spelled Crossroads Diner. No way could this place be real. There wasn’t a road leading to the diner or a parking lot near it, not a single sign of life, but the place didn’t look abandoned either. Someone was obviously taking care of it, washing dust from the exterior and keeping the paint fresh.

  She started breathing through her mouth in an attempt to get more oxygen. “What’s going on? I thought you were taking me home.”

  “We need to talk first.”

  And we couldn’t talk in a cooler climate, like Siberia? “Where are we?”

  “You don’t know about this place?” Disbelief was replaced by smug satisfaction. “Well, I guess you don’t know as much about hunting as you think you do.”

  “Van doesn’t tell me everything. He wants to... protect me.” The lie tried to choke her. If anything, Van kept secrets to protect himself.

  “This is our safe haven,” Nick said. “It’s a place for hunters to go when they need somewhere to hide or to talk privately.”

  He wanted to talk and there was something she was dying to know. “You were in my bedroom last night. Why?”

  “Well, I’m a little over six feet and most of the girls I meet are way too petite. Got to have me a tall woman.” He had the audacity to wink at her.

  Maybe she should punch him. “That’s it. Goodbye.”

  “You aren’t going anywhere.” He blocked her path. “Not yet. I have a few questions for you and you are going to answer them.”

  This was Bay-Lee’s first time being kidnapped and she wasn’t sure how to respond. Under ordinary circumstances she’d nail the perp with a right cross, but this was no ordinary man. A trained hunter, he could more than defend himself. The idea that he could be a better fighter than her stung her pride.

  “What a coincidence. I have questions for you. We can make a game of it if you want, take turns. The rules are you have to be totally honest, no dodging questions, and you can only ask one at a time. If you don’t answer mine, I won’t answer yours.”

  His gaze narrowed on her face and a long silence fell over them, more suffocating than the killer heat. For a moment she thought he’d decline. It was obvious he didn’t like to share information. Finally, he shrugged. “Agreed.”

  He led the way to the diner’s glass door and retrieved a key from behind a loose brick before swinging the door open wide. He motioned for her to enter ahead of him. As she moved to pass him, she caught sight of her reflection in the glass. There was something wrong with her eyes. A glowing jade, they didn’t look human, and the sight of them made her cry out in fear.

  Over her shoulder Nick said, “The Spirit Realm changes them. But don’t worry. It’s temporary unless you make the Realm your second home. I guess that’s another thing Van didn’t tell you.”

  “This has never happened to me before, I’m sure of it. Connor would have seen and he would have known I was sneaking over there without telling anyone.”

  “It takes a while for it to start happening. Guess you crossed over one time too many.”

  “Your eyes—”

  “I know. I know. People think they’re contacts, but they’re mine. I used to have ordinary hazel eyes.” He shrugged. “I’ve crossed over more than most.”

  “What about Van? He’s crossed over more than anyone on this planet and his eyes are still plain old brown.”

  Nick gaped at her. “How can you not know your father wears contacts? He’s had them as far back as I can remember.”

  Ignoring the question and his incredulous tone, she continued to stare at her own eyes in amazement. They were beautiful. As a child she’d wished for green or blue eyes, but now that she had them she didn’t want it to be permanent. Her mother’s eyes had been brown. When she looked into a mirror, she wanted to see those eyes.

  Nick opened the door wider, gesturing once again for her to enter so she took a hesitant step inside. This diner reminded her of the one she saw in a magazine a few years ago. Lana Turner was rumored to have been discovered there by a talent scout while sitting on a cushioned stool.

  Nick steered her across the checkered floor tiles to the counter. Stepping behind it, he grabbed a pot of coffee. She watched in stunned amazement as he poured them both a cup. He looked comfortable behind the counter as if he was at home in his own kitchen. Seeing her puzzled expression, he explained, “Someone pops in every few hours to brew a fresh pot, but if we want something to eat, we’ll have to cook it ourselves. No one actually works here.”

  “I don’t want anything. Just answers.”

  The ‘dead’ musician showed her to a booth with a dented table and a torn seat, glaring at her the entire time with open hostility. It was obvious he hated her. Maybe that should be her first question. Why did he think she’d ruined his life? But another question popped into her head and took precedence.

  He was the last person she should be curious about, and yet... “What is your name, Tyler or Nick?”

  “Both.” When she frowned at him and prepared to exit the booth, he gave in with a frustrated sigh. “I was born Nick Gallos. Tyler Beck is my alias or at least it was until he was killed.”

  An epiphany swam to the surface of her mind, and a hard fist clenched in her stomach. “Wait a second. The people you killed last week... they were vampires. Since they only turn to dust in the movies, the cops thought you’d killed innocent people.”

  Dry tone, he said, “Ding, ding, ding. Give the lady a prize. My turn now.” He drew invisible circles on the table with his finger. Head lowered, his gaze was on the lackluster surface instead of on her. “Has Van ever mentioned me to you?”

  Out of all the questions she’d expected, this one wasn’t even on the list. “Of course not. Why would he?”

  “Is that your question?”

  She shook her head. “Why were you in my room last night? And I want the truth.”

  “Curiosity.” He took a moment to add three sugars to his coffee before responding with more detail. “All my life I’ve heard stories of Van Helsing’s daughter, the bright light meant to save this world from certain destruction.” He made a rude noise. “I wanted to see if you lived up to the hype.”

  Her insides turned to water. “And?”

  His opinion shouldn’t mean anything to her. So why was she on the edge of her seat waiting for a response?

  He smirked. “Is that your question?”

  “Stop it!”

  “Stop what?”

  “Stop being a total jerk.”

  Nick took a sip of coffee. Steam swirled up from the hot beverage. His mouth formed a large ‘O’ and he breathed in and out fast as if trying to cool the interior. The human response gave her hope. He seemed less intimidating now. After a moment he said, “You made the rules. It’s my turn anyway. Do you want to be a hunter or did you just give in to destiny?”

  “I want it more than anything,” she admitted but refused to tell him why. There were certain things she couldn’t share with him, no matter what the rules of the game. “What about you? How did you become a hunter?”

  A grim twist ruined his perfect mouth for a moment. The anger living in his eyes,
only softening now and again for a split-second returned with a vengeance. “When I was a kid, a fortune teller made the decision for me. Do you have a boyfriend?”

  She froze, instantly uncomfortable. The questions were becoming more personal. She didn’t want to admit the guy she was currently dating had been supplied by Van Helsing. It wasn’t like she couldn’t get a date on her own if she wanted one. She definitely didn’t want the young man across the table to figure out her pretend-boyfriend was actually the first boyfriend she’d ever had, didn’t want him to suspect the only kisses she’d received were quick and passionless.

  “Why do you care?” she asked.

  “It would make my life a lot easier if you were ga-ga over some other guy.”

  She would have questioned him about the odd statement only her ears picked up on the name of his alter-ego. Her gaze flicked to the small television hanging in the corner of the diner, and she realized that was where the low talking she’d been hearing was coming from. Preoccupied with her intriguing companion, her mind hadn’t registered the noise until now. The network had pre-empted regularly scheduled programming to broadcast a special look back at Tyler Beck’s life and career. A music video clip was currently playing.

  Nick realized he didn’t have her complete attention anymore. His gaze followed hers to the television. By the time he looked, they were showing footage from a concert last year. The band was performing Motley Crue’s Kickstart my Heart.

  On the screen Nick’s alternate persona took command of the stage. Wearing snug faded jeans and no shirt, his hips were grinding in rhythm with his guitar. She’d seen enough of his work to know this was his usual state of dress during a performance. He liked to flash his tanned and muscular body as much as girls enjoyed seeing it. It was a known fact, sooner or later he was going to rip his shirt off.

  Present-day Nick looked embarrassed. His gaze dropped to the floor rather than watch the screen. He swallowed convulsively, and his Adam’s apple bobbed.

  Unable to help herself, she stared up at the screen in awe. Tyler Beck and his lead guitarist met at the start of a long runway reaching deep into the audience. The singer handed off his guitar to a stage person, but Mike kept his. The two of them exchanged a knowing look like two mischievous kids. When the chorus kicked in, they charged down the runway together. They’d obviously done this a million times. Each movement, each dance step, and each flirtatious grin for the ladies was rehearsed.

  Then the chorus ended. The music went full-on instrumental, growing in power by the second, and Mike worked his way back to the stage as fast as he could. He nearly tripped on the cord connecting guitar to amp. Bay-Lee wasn’t sure why he was trying so hard to get back to the stage, but it became apparent in the next few seconds.

  Jordan went to town on the drums, banging out a fast tempo that would be the envy of angry tribes of warriors everywhere. Jumping backwards on one foot, Nick danced his way to the stage with furious movements. It was like watching a runaway train. If Mike had been in the way, he would have gotten trampled. The whole thing was beautifully choreographed. She looked at Nick, prepared to ask if he’d put the routine together himself, but the expression on his face warned her to keep her mouth shut.

  He hurried to the counter and grabbed the remote control. She was sure he was going to flick the set off, but the screen turned to a live shot of a news anchor. He pushed the volume button instead, holding it down until they could hear the woman speaking loud and clear.

  “A rep for the family tells us the funeral will be held in an undisclosed location to assure it remains a private affair. A close friend has gone on record saying Tyler will be buried in a family plot in Canada. Considering his fame, the family is concerned about vandals. The rep also issued the following statement for Beck’s fans.”

  Nick scoffed. “Whatever.”

  The statement was read in a semi-mechanical tone. “We realize there are millions of fans out there who love and miss Tyler as much as we do. Please gather together tomorrow night at midnight for a nationwide memorial. Light a candle for him, bring a flashlight, or wave a glow stick. Share a moment of silence with us and with the world as we mourn his loss. Then crank up his music loud enough for him to hear it in heaven. I know he’ll be looking down on us, smiling.”

  Nick said a filthy word beneath his breath, but Bay-Lee caught it. Her cheeks flamed hot. She’d heard the word before. It was his deliverance, the boiling rage that made her face flush. He flipped the television off. Waves of anger bounced off him, tangible. Bay-Lee wanted to make him feel better even though she didn’t understand why she should care. She forced a smile and tried to lighten the overall mood. “Wow. You get a nationwide memorial. That’s pretty cool.”

  He shot her a glare before heading for the door. “The boys are waiting for me. They’ll need help driving back the border monsters for your dad’s arrival.”

  She wanted to ask when or if she’d see him again. The words turned to ashes on her tongue. For a large person he moved fast, even at a normal paced walk. Before she could summon the courage to speak, he was outside, passing in front of the huge window without glancing at her. His long stride took him to the place they’d first appeared. That was when another dilemma presented itself.

  Bay-Lee rushed outside and shouted, “Hey! How am I supposed to get home from here?”

  Hiding his expression behind dark sunglasses, he shrugged wide shoulders. “I’m sure you can find your own way, princess. Cross over for a second and then cross back to your house. Just stay off the road and out of the light and you’ll be fine. The border monsters have bad eyesight like rhinos. If you see one, stand still and you’ll blend into the background.” He nodded at the diner. “And lock up before you go.”

  Then he was gone, disappearing like a ghost.

  Bay-Lee stared at the empty spot, stunned. Although she crossed over whenever she felt like it, she hadn’t seen anyone do it before and was surprised by how quickly he’d vanished. So that’s what had happened last night in her bedroom. Monsters couldn’t cross over that fast, but somehow Nick Gallos could.