Conversion Book Three: 'Til Death

by S. C. Stephens

  Alanna stood with Jack and Imogen. “We will take everyone to the ranch, Teren.” Alanna looked over at her mother. “Between the two of us, Nika, Linda, and Ashley, will have night and day protection there.”

  Jack walked over to Teren, his warm brown eyes full of barely contained emotion. Placing his hand on Teren’s shoulder, he nodded at the door. “Go find your son.” That was all the encouragement Teren needed, he blurred out without another word.

  I gasped as his presence streaked away from me. Hot Ben ran his hands through his hair, looking a little lost as to what he should do. Since he couldn’t move as quickly as we could or follow a scent like we could, he probably felt a little…human.

  Placing a hand on his shoulder, I forced myself to smile. He looked over at me, a sigh escaping his gorgeous face as he guessed what I was about to say. “I’m sorry, Ben, but you won’t be able to search with us.” I cringed. “You’re just not…equipped like we are, and we can’t wait for you.”

  He hung his head and Ashley came up to put a hand on his back. Leaning down to his face, I added, “But we’d really appreciate you looking anyway. If you want to drive around the city, ask around if anyone saw anything…weird recently.” My hand came up to stroke his face. “I know Teren would really appreciate that.”

  Ben nodded, his jaw setting as a task that he could handle was given to him. Nodding at me, he said, “I won’t let you down, Emma. I won’t stop looking.”

  Tears pricked my eyes as I watched the brave man leave. It was almost hard to imagine a time when Ben had been a shivering, cowardly mess of a man who’d thought Teren wanted to eat him. Saying quick goodbyes, he dashed out after Teren at a much slower pace.

  Gabriel put a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be north, Emma, if you need anything.” He patted his pocket. “I’ll call…if I find him.”

  I was still nodding as he phased away.

  Twisting back to the Adams and Taylors still left in the house, I shrugged and cringed. “I can’t stay either. I need to…do something.” I felt my husband’s presence drifting away from me, to the very outskirts of the city, and longed to follow.

  My eyes rested on my daughter though, finally having cried herself to sleep on my mother’s lap. Mom lazily stroked circles into her back, looking worn herself. “Go, Emma,” she whispered, her eyes locking to mine. “We’ll be safe.” Her eyes flicked up to Alanna’s and the vampire smiled, fangs exposed.

  Cocking an eyebrow at me, Alanna seriously said, “No one will harm them.” Smiling around her teeth, she added, “Don’t forget, Halina is a part of me too.”

  I nodded, giving her a hug and then the rest of my family. I lingered on my sleeping daughter last, placing soft kisses in her hair. She stirred under my cool touch, but remained asleep. Dried tear tracks were clear to me in her skin and I lightly brushed them off. A part of me wanted to wake her, to ask her if she could still feel Julian, but I didn’t. I let her get her rest, and hoped that whatever reason Malcolm had taken our child, his intention was not to harm him.

  I ran to where I could feel Teren, at the edge of the bay. The smell of saltwater surged through my nose as I dashed along the sandy beaches. I moved so fast, I barely left an impression in the dunes. I found my husband searching under a pier. His eyes scanned every nook and cranny of the dark wood, looking for any trace of a child, ours or not. The faint glow of his eyes twisted to me as the sweetness of our bond announced my arrival. He didn’t even crack a smile, only nodded, his lips set in a hard line. I nodded back, and together, we began the futile search for our son.

  It was looking for a needle in a haystack, we both knew that, but our only other alternative was to sit at home and do nothing. Nothing wasn’t an option for us, so we searched. We ran in short bursts throughout the city, searching every hidey-hole that was large enough to place a toddler. We looked through every home and business that was open, and quite a few that weren’t. Then we streaked away to the next location. It was tiring, searching and streaking with no real direction.

  I checked in with my family often, tracked my daughter and the rest of the girls as they shifted east, to the ranch. It brought me a little peace that my loved ones were on high alert now; that meant that another swiping was unlikely, not without a fight at least. But the majority of me was starting to feel despair, and fatigue. Endlessly searching hundreds of miles was an impossible task. And our bodies weren’t designed to maintain super speed. By the next evening, I had to walk, I couldn’t phase anymore. And I was starving; Teren and I had searched all day without pause.

  Feeling aches in areas of my body that I didn’t know could ache, I put a hand on his arm as he shifted to streak to a new location. “Teren, stop, I can’t…” Even though I didn’t need it, my breath was hard from the exertion.

  Teren looked back at me, his breathing harder too, but determination and a stubborn refusal to give up masked the weariness on his face. “Go home, Emma, rest.”

  He twisted and lunged, but I still held him tight. “What about you? You need rest too.”

  Flicking down his body, I clearly saw the grime and tear marks of hours of frantic searching. I knew that I was equally disheveled, but I didn’t really care, my son was out there in the world. Teren sighed as he looked back at me. “Go home, get something to eat…I just want to check out one more spot, then I’ll be right behind you.” He peeled my fingers off of his arm and then he was gone. I knew he was as tired as me, but pure love-filled panic was driving him. I had no idea how long it would drive him, before he just keeled over.

  When two more entire days past and Teren still never came back to rest or eat, I started to worry about him. When our forty-eight hour window had closed on us, Teren’s search had actually picked up pace, and length. Having given up on the city, he blurred up the coast. He hadn’t gotten any leads to send him that way, he was just picking a location and doing the best he could. Feeling that my child was closer to home, I stayed in the city. I kept running back home, to see if any more blood written letters had been left for us, but we heard nothing from the kidnapper. For all we knew, he wasn’t speaking …because Julian wasn’t alive any more. It was hard to negotiate the return of a deceased person. The very thought chilled my icy flesh though, and I forced the hope back into my body. There was no point in killing Julian, so he wouldn’t.

  I repeated that every ten seconds in a never-ending loop.

  Finishing a thermos sized glass of blood, to keep my strength up, I mentally checked in on my husband. A euphoria building in my chest told me that he was on his way back to the city, back to me. I closed my eyes and felt for him, hoping beyond hope that he’d run home and tell me he’d found…something. I briefly considered calling him, but then his presence shifted east, and I knew he was only picking a new location. Nothing had changed.

  Our son had been missing for over seventy-two hours, and nothing had changed.

  Feeling so weary that my enhanced body no longer felt real, I wondered what my husband must be feeling. He hadn’t slept or ate, I’d asked. Every time I’d called him or met up with him, he’d told me that he just wanted to check out one more place, and then he’d come home and get something to eat. That one place had led to one more place, then another and another, and he still hadn’t rested. I was running on fumes, Teren was running on pure will power.

  Wanting to help him, I prepared the largest sized thermos we had with some blood. Our supplies at the house were starting to dwindle a little. We kept about a month’s supply in the freezer, with a couple of day’s worth of fresh stuff in the fridge. It had been time to go “shopping” at the ranch when Julian had been taken. We’d just been too busy to think about it since then. I wasn’t too worried though. We wouldn’t be reduced to snacking on pets when we had fields of fresh cattle under an hour away. But still, keeping a full fridge was one of those little mundane things that you had to do, regardless of the horror you’re facing. Like paying the bills, some aspects of life didn’t care if your world was falling
apart.

  Like my job. I’d completely forgotten all about the fact that life was still progressing around me and I was expected to show up to work. Hot Ben had been my saving grace there, calling me when Tracey started asking where I was. I’d called her with a fanciful story of a family member passing and a funeral I needed to go to a State over. I’d sobbed into the phone with Tracey, my depression completely real, even if my story wasn’t. She’d offered her condolences and promised up and down that she’d get everything squared away with HR, even if she had to backdate a vacation request. Telling me she loved me, I returned the sentiment and silently thanked her for all the times she’d made me feel better without even realizing it.

  Getting in my car, since I was too tired to run, I made my way to where Teren was. I forcefully ignored the back seat. I couldn’t look at the car seat where my son should have been safely buckled. I couldn’t stomach seeing his favorite truck wedged between the cushions. I couldn’t even stomach listening to the radio. My car was silent as I drove along, but I still heard Russian nursery songs in my head. Everything, everywhere, reminded me of him. Every section of my silent heart burned.

  When I found Teren, I shut the car off and stared at him openmouthed. The man before me was not my husband. Walking out of an abandoned building that looked like it had once been a grocery store, he staggered on his feet, looking like he’d just stepped out of a war zone. While his face lifted and his eyes were in my direction, I don’t think he even saw me. His clothes were torn, streaked with blood and dirt. His walk was haphazard, like he was going to collapse to his knees at any moment. But none of that compared to his face. I’d never seen a look of such desolation on a face before. He’d never looked that way, not even when my fate had been in question.

  Even from the space between us, I could see the weariness, the straight-to-the-bone exhaustion. But still, he moved with determination. With a limp of an old man, he trudged out to the parking lot. I blurred out to him, thermos tightly held under my arm. My hands went to his cheeks as he blinked at me blankly. “Good god, Teren.”

  “Emma?” he croaked out, his voice sounding dry.

  Worried that he really hadn’t stopped anywhere to eat, I unscrewed the thermos lid. His eyes fixated on it instantly. “You haven’t stopped moving in three days, have you? Have you slept? Eaten?”

  He didn’t answer me, only wavered on his feet and stared at the drink in my hands. Once the smell of blood hit the air, his fangs dropped down. A weak growl rose from his chest and he snatched the mug from me, tipping it up to his lips. In his eagerness, he tipped it back a little too far and the blood spilled down his chin, staining his caked-with-mud shirt. He didn’t seem to care, gulping hungrily.

  My eyes watered as I watched him. Both hands on the thermos, he didn’t stop drinking until it was empty. I suddenly wished I’d brought more with me. Lowering the mug, he swiped his sleeve over his mouth. His eyes more alert, he locked gazes with me. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice a little stronger too.

  My hands stroked his cheeks, my thumbs wiping some soot off them. “Come home. Take a break, rest, and then you can set off again.”

  He immediately shook his head, his body still tittering like he was going to fall over. “I can’t.”

  Biting my lip, I shook my head. “You’re no good to him dead on your feet. Rest, sleep…please.”

  His eyes looked past me, to the infinite places our son could be tucked. The world had never seemed as large to me as it did now. We could literally search for forever, and never find him, not with the bond shut off. Those pale eyes shimmered with tears as he took in the vastness around us. “I can’t go home. I can’t leave him…alone.”

  I felt the tears sliding down my face as his eyes returned to mine. “You haven’t been eating.” I ran my fingers along the soft spot under his eye. “You’re running on empty,” I whispered. “Just come home and have some more blood.” I pointed at the thermos clenched in his hand. “When was the last time you ate?”

  He shook his head. “When was the last time he ate?” More tears fell down my cheeks as I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about that. I wanted to picture Julian full and healthy, even happy…even though Nika often told me that he was still scared.

  Teren took a step and staggered, and my arms went around him. Holding him tight to me, I summoned all of the strength I had. “You are coming home with me. You’re eating and resting. You can’t search for our son if you can’t even stand.” He pulled away from me, shaking his head, and I gripped his chin, the stubble course under my fingers. “You could see him and pass right over him, you’re so exhausted.”

  He opened his mouth to object, then shut it. Running my hands back through his hair, I soothingly said. “At least come with me to the ranch to see your daughter. She misses you. Mom says she cries all the time, feeling Julian’s fear. Come home, hug her, let her know that we’re still here…for her.” I kissed his forehead. “She needs us too,” I whispered.

  Closing his eyes, tears squeezed out and dripped down his dirty cheeks. “Alright, I’ll come home,” he whispered, his voice breaking midsentence.

  I turned to lead him back to my car when the wind shifted. A familiar scent was on it and my head snapped up. Teren’s did too. Across the empty lot a man was standing patiently in a bright shaft of sunlight, watching us. He was lean, lanky, horrible disheveled, slightly bloody, and instantly familiar.

  A rumble in my husband’s chest was followed by only one word, “Malcolm.” Then he used the last of his strength and blurred across the lot, the empty thermos crashing to the ground as he dropped it. I was a pace behind him. Fear and anger gave Teren a new reserve of strength and he tackled the man who’d taken our son. By the time I got there, Teren was holding him down, his hands clenching his throat tight.

  “Where’s my son?” he barked, the streaks of blood down his chin only emphasizing the viciousness in his eyes. For a moment, I thought Teren might start ripping limbs off of Malcolm until he got an answer. He’d tortured before for a loved one, and this time, it wouldn’t horrify me if he did it again. I might even help.

  Not needing the air that Teren was cutting off, the undead mixed vampire in his grasp smiled cockily. He pointed to his windpipe, raising an eyebrow. Teren eased up on his throat, but leaned over him, his face trembling in his rage. “Where’s my son?” he asked again, colder.

  Malcolm smiled casually at him. “This is certainly no way to begin introductions. There used to be an art to it, makes me miss the old days.” One thin lip curved up devilishly as he raised his eyebrows suggestively. “And truly, I like to get to know a person a little better before being this intimate.”

  Teren’s hand shoved Malcolm’s chin up, exposing his throat. His fangs dropped down as a growl rumbled out of his throat. “You don’t want to get to know me. What have you done with my son?”

  Malcolm rolled his eyes at the display, then flatly said, “The rugrat is fine, but he won’t be, if you don’t back off.”

  Teren eased up a little, his entire body shaking with the restraint to not rip the man to pieces. “I will shove a stake right through you if you’ve hurt him,” he growled.

  Malcolm laughed a little. “Oh, big man.” His hazel eyes flicked up to me; they were narrow-set, making his face seem as thin as the rest of him. “I bet that turns you on? I bet you find that sexy?”

  A growl of my own ripped through the lot as I took a step towards him. Maybe I’d start the torture. Malcolm’s amused face ended as he snapped his attention back to Teren. “Now, get off me, unless you never want to see him again.”

  Teren flexed his jaw and shook his head. Lifting Malcolm’s head up a bit, he slammed it back to the concrete; the crack it made was distinct to my sharp ears. Malcolm flinched and hissed. “Start talking, where is he?” Teren held him down when Malcolm started to genuinely struggle to get up.

  His fangs dropping down, Malcolm’s eyes blazed with anger. “You will never find the hole I sho
ved that brat into if you do not get off me right now!”

  Teren hissed back at him, his fangs getting longer. “I can make you talk, I’ve had practice.”

  Malcolm snorted, his fangs receding. “Yes, I’ve heard all about your ‘talks’ with vampires.” Teren blinked and pulled back, his fangs pulling back as well. Sniffing, Malcolm looked between Teren hovered over him and me standing beside them. “You probably could make me speak, it’s true.” His hazel eyes narrowed at Teren as his thin lips hardened into a straight line. “But, can you break me…in time?”

  I stopped breathing as I watched the worn vampire under my husband. Everything about him screamed exhaustion and desperation – the bloody tears in his worn clothes, the ratted, dirty light brown hair, the streaks of grime on his deceptively youthful face. As Teren was just as dirty and disheveled, I thought their physical levels of wear might be closely matched.

  Teren sat up a little, backing off. Malcolm sat up on his elbows, glancing between the two of us again. Smiling confidently, he shrugged. “You see, I was a little quick to stash the child,” he focused on Teren, “for obvious reasons, and I didn’t really leave him much food or water.” Looking up at the clear blue sky that he seemingly had no discomfort being under, he shook his head. “Come to think of it, I’m not sure when the snot ate last.” His cold eyes came back to me. “I haven’t been around much.”