Turning Point

by K M Smith

  “Make what easier?” Alice said, anger sparking in her voice again. “This—this, whatever this is—is over now. You guys tried, but you’ve failed. I have no interest in meeting my fa— Drew! Ugh! Just leave me alone!” She jumped up abruptly and ran away from Jake and Leo.

  “Alice!” Jake called after her. “Don’t do this!” He stared at her as she ran, willing her to stop, but it didn’t work. “Shit,” he hissed, shaking his head.

  “Want me to grab ’er?” Leo asked, poised for the chase.

  “No,” Jake shook his head. “No, I’ll do it.” He watched her run farther away, but he made no move to follow her.

  “Whattaya waitin’ for?”

  “I said I’ll do it, Leo!” Jake strained a look at his partner then threw a mental message to him, ‘She’ll hate me for this.’

  “It’ll be easier that way, pal,” Leo replied aloud.

  “Yeah,” Jake said. Then in a blink he sped off through the woods to re-capture Alice.

  ◆◆◆

  “Help me!” Alice screamed.

  Shit! Jake sped up. ‘I hope no one’s hanging out late at the diner,’ Jake thought at Leo.

  ‘Just keep your eye on the prize.’

  Jake needed to grab her before she broke through the clearing. She was fast, faster than he’d expected. But her human legs were no match for his vampiric speed.

  One more step, that’s all she needed. Part of Jake wanted her to win. To make it. But he had orders.

  He grabbed her and whispered in her ear. “I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant it. Then he bit her.

  He held her close to his body, cradling her head and neck in his hand. She struggled for a moment, but then went limp, her body heavy in his arms. She was so warm. Her forehead and the bridge of her nose glistened with sweat. Droplets ran down her scalp, behind her ears and made their way down her neck and into Jake’s mouth. Salt mixed with determination on his tongue and Jake’s thoughts rambled. He was sorry to have bitten her—he liked Alice, but after this she would never forgive him. He had a job to do, and he was doing it, though now he wondered why he agreed to it. Why had he been sent on this job? Why now? What did Drew hope to achieve? Her blood filled his mouth and he fell into a swoon, pulling the sweet life-giving elixir from her body. Her heart had been beating furiously as he bit her, so her blood flowed and flowed.

  He was in heaven.

  And hell.

  “Alright, lover boy, that’s enough.” Leo’s hand rested on Jake’s shoulder, snapping him out of his reverie.

  He reluctantly pulled his face away from Alice, her blood dripping down his chin, his eyes drowsy with ecstasy.

  “You better seal ’er up.” Leo nodded toward the puncture wounds on Alice’s neck. They were overflowing with her thick, salty blood. Jake looked at her neck and realized what Leo was saying. He carefully, gingerly, put his mouth back over the wound and used his tongue and healing saliva to create a seal to stem the flow. He stood upright, still holding Alice loosely in his arms and looked at Leo.

  “Good work, kid,” Leo said. “Why don’t you hand ’er over to me, I’ll take ’er to the car.”

  “She screamed before I got to her—”

  “I heard. I checked, ain’t nobody in the parking lot or sniffin’ around outside. Either nobody heard or nobody’s here.”

  Jake nodded. “Thanks.”

  “C’mon. You look like crap. Head back to the car and clean yourself up.” Leo walked on ahead, carrying Alice in his arms.

  Jake stood still for a moment, the weight of what he’d just done heavy on his heart.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Adam

  Adam awoke to a rustling sound. He turned his head and saw the hollow glint in a raccoon’s eyes. The animal was scratching and pawing at the detritus that made up the forest floor, eyeing Adam the whole time.

  On impulse, Adam dropped his fangs and hissed at the creature as he rose to his feet. The raccoon wasted no time making his escape. “I won’t be so nice next time,” he muttered as he wiped debris from his clothes and hair.

  He brought his hand up to massage the back of his head. He didn’t have a lump, that had already gone down, but the feeling of having been whacked upside the head still lingered. He scanned the forest, hoping for any sign of Alice and the goons. Judging from the emptiness hanging in the air and the number of woodland creatures scurrying about, they’d all left quite some time ago. Adam trudged back toward his car, his legs heavy and a knot of anxiety building in his stomach. He rehashed the evening’s events in his mind as he walked and kept coming back to one thought: How could she choose them over me?

  They were the bad guys. They tried to kill her. They kidnapped her. How could she choose them? He reached the edge of the woods and spied his car in the parking lot, just where he’d left it. At least they left my car intact. He made the trek from the woods to his car in less than a second, and as he sat in the driver’s seat, hands in his lap, the car cold and lonely, there were no distractions to keep him from being consumed by the sinking feeling in his gut.

  Doubt crept in.

  Did I orchestrate this?

  He placed his hands on the steering wheel.

  Could I have prevented all this from ever happening?

  His knuckles grew white from gripping so tightly.

  Why didn’t Drew ever come back?

  The leather squeaked under his grip as he twisted his hands around the wheel.

  She’s mine. I will get her back.

  Adam started the car and peeled out of the lot in pursuit of Alice.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Drew

  The room was dark and silent. The kind of silence that feels like cotton balls in your ears. He sat motionless in a way that only the undead can: eyes closed, back straight, feet on the ground, hands resting on his thighs. Not breathing. A moment of peace. A time to shut down with intent.

  The room had one chair. It was metal, basic, no padding, no curlicue designs: four legs, a seat and a back. There were no windows, no air vents, no slits in the door. Much like a bank vault; when it was closed, it was impenetrable and still.

  Minions acted on his whims. If he wanted a door opened or closed a minion would do that for him. Not that he liked this setup. But reputations were important and he intended to maintain his. How did humans manage without minions?

  He laughed. His mind had been wandering again. At least lately his wandering thoughts were less painful. No reminiscing, no lamenting what might have been. There was no point in fretting over things that couldn’t be changed.

  Like being made a vampire against your will.

  Like losing your family before you even knew you had one.

  He sighed heavily.

  ‘Eliza.’ He projected the thought to forge a connection.

  ‘Already?’ she replied almost immediately.

  ‘Yes, already. Will you just open the door?’ He rubbed his hands along the tops of his thighs as he waited for the door to open. A moment later he felt more than heard the crack and whoosh, followed by a flood of light, as Eliza opened the door for him.

  “You rang?” She pitched her voice low, in her best Lurch impression, as she stepped through the doorway and pressed her back against the heavy, metal door.

  “Funny,” Drew said without looking at her. He stood up and stretched.

  “It’s only been an hour. Don’t tell me your muscles have seized up—”

  “I know, I know, I’ve been undead for twenty years, but old habits die hard.” He walked out of the room, past Eliza, down the hall, and straight into his shower.

  “Did it help, at least?” Eliza asked later from her comfy seat on the sofa. Her shoulder peaked out from under one of Drew’s button-down shirts and her legs were tucked up underneath her. She glanced up from her phone.

  “Sure,” Drew said, drying off his hair as he entered the room, a towel wrapped around his waist. He plopped down next to her on the sofa and sighed heavily. The leath
er cushions puffed up at his sudden weight.

  “Mm, I can tell.”

  Looking at Eliza, seeing the way she looked at him, he felt small and weak. Normally, his tall frame and hockey-player shoulders dominated the room, but lately, he couldn’t muster the confidence he was used to showing. “What do you want me to say, Eliza? ‘Oh yes, I’m feeling amazing. I haven’t heard from Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum since they left, but I’m just peachy!’”

  “Don’t be so dramatic,” Eliza quipped. Drew’s eyes drifted over her as she reprimanded him. “Meditation works if you let it. Obviously, you haven’t let it. I think you like the drama anyway.” Eliza locked eyes with him, then stood up, her legs unfolding to reveal she had been wearing only his shirt, and her black lacy bra and matching panties. Several of the buttons on the shirt were undone, her perfect décolletage peeking out. When she turned to walk away, the curve and movement of her hips pulled his eyes to her legs, and they drifted further up with each step she took. His shirttails covered enough to keep him interested and forced him to rely on his imagination. Not that he needed to imagine: Drew and Eliza had turned post-argument sex into a sport.

  “Go ahead and walk away! I’m not going to follow you!” he called after her as she made her way down the hall toward her bedroom. He had more important things on his mind than Eliza’s perfect ass.

  From his seat on the sofa, he watched Eliza’s hips until she reached her bedroom door. She pushed it open and glided inside without pausing or looking back. The minx! He shook his head. There was no time to let his guard down now. But the thought of Eliza’s perfect cleavage as it appeared from under his shirt proved to be distracting. Resting his head on the back of the sofa, he closed his eyes. In his mind’s eye his shirt slid off her delicate frame and revealed the curve of her shoulder before falling to the floor and exposing her slight but definite hourglass shape. The daydream continued with Eliza standing naked in front of him as he lounged on her bed. Catlike, she crawled onto the bed to join him. Her smooth satin sheets competed with the smoothness of her skin. Little sounds escaped her lips as their bodies crashed together.

  He cleared his throat and ran his hands along his toweled thighs to wipe the sweat from his palms. “Dammit,” he muttered and followed Eliza to her bedroom.

  ◆◆◆

  “They’re here,” Eliza said.

  Drew sensed something had changed before she even reached his den.

  “I know,” he said, his back to her as he studied the shining surface of his mahogany desk.

  “This is what you wanted,” she said.

  Drew turned in his chair, making a show of walking his feet around until he was facing her, his elbows resting on the wooden arms of the chair. His legs were apart, feet planted firmly on the floor. “I know, Eliza.”

  He looked up after he spoke, but she had already left. “Dammit,” he cursed under his breath. He pushed down on the arms of the chair and it rocked in his wake as he stood. Arching his back and locking his hands behind his head, he gathered his thoughts. He did want this. He’d known Alice was out there. He also knew Alice would never forgive him for leaving and hurting her mother like he had. What did he hope to accomplish with this meeting? Maybe my daughter will understand why I did it and run to me with open arms, he thought. And maybe pigs will fly.

  He dropped his arms to his sides and gave them a quick shake. He walked over to the large, ornate mirror above his stone fireplace. He laughed when he couldn’t see himself. Still no reflection, he mused. He straightened his collar and ran his fingers through his hair, regardless. The movements were part of his ritual. The humor and the familiar actions served to calm and ground him. He puffed his chest and pushed his shoulders back, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

  “Here we go,” he said to the empty mirror, then walked out of his study and down the hall, unsure what the night had in store for him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Alice

  Alice regained consciousness in another unfamiliar setting. “I’ve got to stop doing this,” she said as she sat up and absent-mindedly scratched at her scalp. Looking around, she realized she wasn’t alone. Unmoved, she continued fussing with her hair and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

  “Good evenin’, sunshine,” Leo said and smiled at her. Though his smile exuded about as much warmth as a snowdrift.

  “Leo,” she smiled back, equally frosty. “You’re always here, aren’t you?”

  “Yup,” he nodded. He leaned forward and inspected his nails, finding them much more interesting than Alice. He sucked at his teeth and looked up at her.

  Alice rolled her eyes and looked around the room. With its fancy wallpaper and furnishings, it looked like it was supposed to be old, but she guessed it dated from the late 1990s.

  “Where are we now?” she asked. “Wait, don’t tell me. We’ve actually time traveled back to Victorian England, and I’m about to meet the Queen, right?”

  Leo sat upright, ignoring Alice’s quip. Alice stared at Leo for a moment, unsure why her sarcasm didn’t elicit its usual response from her adversary.

  “A sense of humor. Nice.”

  Alice snapped her head in the direction of the new voice. “Oh, um,” she stammered, and she pushed herself back into the cushions of the sofa.

  “It’s…I love it,” Drew said. He smiled at her as he strode across the room. The king in his castle. Stopping in front of her, he slid his hands into his pockets. She thought he was trying a little too hard to be Mr. Cool. But it was his house, and she had been raised to mind her manners. At least for the time being. “You know who I am?” he asked.

  Alice nodded. At the tone of his voice and his imposing stance she was transported back to her childhood, nervous and waiting for her punishment in the principal’s office.

  Drew nodded in return, his hands still in his pockets. “That’ll be all, Leo, thanks,” he said without ever losing eye contact with her.

  Alice stole a glance at Leo as he formally exited the room. Clearly, there was more to their relationship than she knew.

  “Do you really think the décor shouts Victorian England?” Drew asked coolly, gesturing around.

  “Well, I don’t know for sure, but there’s a lot of fancy mahogany furniture in here—it was the closest I could think of, considering I’ve just spent several hours in a vampire-bite-induced coma.” She looked up at Drew, daring him to tell her she was wrong.

  “Ah, yes, you met Leo and Jake.” He walked over to an ornate high-back chair. It had been upholstered in red velvet and looked distinctly like a throne.

  This really is his castle! she thought. Alice’s eyes followed his as he looked her over. Unable to hear his thoughts, she assumed he was judging her. With a hard and analytical gaze, his eyes like tentacles, reached every part of her body. Her skin tightened and her hairs stood up in waves as each tentacle swept over her. She ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth and crossed her arms, glaring at him the whole time. He could look her over all he wanted, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of looking away.

  Tapping the back of the chair, he walked around to the front of it and said, “Their orders were to take care of you. Apparently, they applied a liberal interpretation to what that meant.”

  “Clearly.”

  “Alice—I only—”

  “Don’t,” she said. This may have been his home, his turf, and he may have been accustomed to running things, but she was fed up with excuses. “Why am I here?”

  Drew arched his eyebrows and shoved his hands back in his pockets. He chuckled and shook his head, “You’re so much like Sarah.”

  That remark caught her off guard. The thought that he’d known her mother at some point, knew her well enough to know that Alice was so much like her, had never crossed her mind.

  “Yes, I am,” she said and swallowed. Her chest constricted at the thought of her mother. “Does she know I’m here? Does she know about you, what you are?”

  “I…
honestly don’t know,” he said. “A lot has happened to me, and I’m sure to her, too. I have no idea what she knows or doesn’t know.”

  Alice nodded, her lips pressed tightly together. Enough sitting around. She asked again, “Why am I here?”

  “Sarah was never easily distracted either,” he said. “Unless something reminded her of something she’d read somewhere, then she could go on a series of tangents that not many people could follow.” He paused. “Except me.” He cleared his throat and Alice thought she heard a hint of remorse in his voice, though since she’d only just met him, she couldn’t be sure. Unsure what she was expected to say, she looked blankly at him then nodded slowly.

  He cleared his throat, again. “Anyway, you’re here because I wanted to see you. To meet you.”

  “Why now? What do you want? You must want something.” Alice willed herself to keep her back pressed deep into the cushions of the sofa. She had no intention of giving him the idea that she was at all interested in being there, in meeting him—this man she’d thought was dead until about twenty-four hours ago. This man who, for better or worse, was her own flesh and blood. This man who technically was no longer living, yet here he was, standing in front of her—and he looked to be the same age as she was. Only the depth of his eyes betrayed his youthful appearance.

  She’d never really thought much about her father before: what traits she may or may not share with him, if any of her mannerisms were similar to his. Did he like coffee? Had he liked coffee… before? She let her thoughts drift.

  “Good questions,” Drew said and looked at his feet. He clearly hadn’t expected her to have questions for him.

  Alice flashed her eyes at Drew, happy to note that she was getting under his skin. What had he been doing in New York for the last twenty years other than barking orders at the hired help? His posture shouted “I’m important,” but Alice wasn’t buying it. Maybe it was because she couldn’t understand how someone so important could abandon their family for so long, then suddenly decide they were interested. Regardless, she was already fed up with sitting in the same room with him.