by C. T. Adams
Could I drive a stake through somebody’s chest to save my own life?
Probably. But it wouldn’t be easy. It takes a lot of strength, both of body and will to do that sort of thing.
Cut off the head?
Ewww. Um . . . maybe. But how do you explain it to the police after? “Gee, officer. I’m pretty sure the victim was a vampire ...” Not so much. See previous comment re rubber room with padded walls.
But I’m not the type to just let the man take care of things. I’m not. So I needed to be prepared. I just wasn’t sure how. Last night I hadn’t taken the time to ask Daniel which of the myths about vampires were true and which were, well, myth. We hadn’t spent much time talking.
Not that I regretted any of the not talking. That had been spectacularly wonderful, wonderfully spectacular, and I wanted more just as soon as I could get it, thank you very much. In fact, it had lived up to every single fantasy I’d had about him since our first meeting. But now I had a problem on my hands and I needed to figure out what to do about it.
I grabbed the spare set of keys from their hook and pulled on my jacket. It would take a little time to ride the bus out to the restaurant and pick up my car, but if I left now, I should still be able to get there before sundown. In fact, if I hurried, I might be able to run a few errands before it got dark and Alexander came a-calling.
I hurried.
“What is that smell?” The man changing the tyre was short and bulky, with the beginnings of a gut hanging over the top of his belt. His name was Jack Baker, and I was serving him with a restraining order. He apparently had a habit of beating up on his wife, to which she’d taken exception. I’d serve the papers. It’s what I do. But I’d be careful doing it. Because, while Mr Baker looked innocuous enough, he was plenty dangerous.
I felt bad for his wife, and hoped she didn’t believe that a simple piece of paper was going to keep him away from her. In my experience, most restraining orders didn’t work. But if you’re lucky - very, very lucky - they might result in the asshole going to jail long enough to give you a head start.
“Garlic,” I answered him, because I was going to try to keep this friendly. It probably wouldn’t work, but I was going to try. “I’m planning on making spaghetti when I get home.”
“You cook? You don’t look like the type.” He raised his beady eyes from what he was doing to check me out, his hand clenching and unclenching on the tyre iron.
“I cook,” I answered. “By the way, my name’s Karen. Karen James. What’s yours?” He was busy tightening the lug nuts, and didn’t look up when he answered me.
“Jack Baker,” he answered. Grunting, he finished tightening the last lug nut. “But make the cheque out to Baker Towing.”
“Right.” I dug in my purse, pulling out a stack of papers and setting them, along with my chequebook, onto the hood of the car. I made out the cheque, tearing it out and dropping the book back into the bag. Turning to Mr Baker, I thrust both the cheque and paperwork into his hand.
“What the hell?” He tried to shove the paperwork back at me, but I backed away.
“Mr Baker, you’ve been served.”
I climbed into the car, slamming and locking the door before he could react. It was just as well that I did, because when he actually got a glance at the papers I’d handed him, he lost it completely. He swung the tyre iron in a wicked arc, smashing it into the car window, which cracked in a spiderweb pattern. Meanwhile I’d started the vehicle and threw it in gear. I was taking off, gravel spitting from my tyres when the second blow fell with the clang of metal on metal.
Crap. That had been close. Damn it anyway! My poor car. The clients were definitely getting the bill for this one.
I drove west, towards the last rays of the setting sun that were nearly blinding me, checking my rearview mirror every few seconds to make sure Mr Baker hadn’t decided to follow. He might. He didn’t seem like the type to let things go. But luck was with me; there was no sign of a tow truck.
My eyes were on the mirror when Daniel materialized on the seat beside me. I shrieked, and jerked, swerving across two lanes before I got the car back under control.
“Don’t do that. Cripes! You scared me half to death.”
“I scared you? What the hell are you doing out of your apartment? Damn it! Don’t you realize how much danger you’re in?” His handsome features twisted into a snarl. “And what is that smell?” He rolled down the window, letting fresh air into the car. I couldn’t say I blamed him. In an enclosed space the smell was a little overpowering.
“Fresh cloves of garlic.”
He sighed. “If you’re thinking it will hurt him, it won’t. Although the smell might just drive him off.” He leaned towards the window, breathing deeply. “Tell me you’re not wearing it in a necklace.”
“No, but I’ve got some in my jacket pockets. The holy water is in a gun on the back seat.”
He twisted around and peered over the top of the seat. I saw his eyebrows rise at the sight that greeted him. I’d gone to a toy store and bought the top-of-the-line squirt gun. It was made of neon plastic with no less than five tanks of assorted sizes, all of which I’d filled with holy water from the baptismal font at the Catholic cathedral, before having the gun itself blessed, along with a smaller one that was tucked in the inside pocket of my jacket. I was pretty sure the priest thought I was nuts. But he did as I asked.
“Does holy water work?”
“As a matter of fact, it does. So make sure you aim that thing carefully. Assuming, of course, you get a shot off.” Shifting his weight, he pulled the briefcase I’d had on the seat out from beneath him. “I don’t suppose I can talk you into staying home where you’re relatively safe while I deal with this.”
“No. Not really. I’ve got a job, bills to pay — a life. I refuse to cower in the corner.”
Actually I’d thought about doing just that, but decided that the stress of worrying would probably do me in just as effectively as the monster hunting me. And then there was the worrying about Daniel. Because I did. Yes, he was a big, strong vampire, perfectly capable of taking care of himself. But I’d seen his expression in that fleeting instant when he’d realized I was up against Alexander. He’d been afraid.
“You do realize how stupid that is.” He said it softly.
“Yes. But it doesn’t matter.” I took the 120th street exit, heading for my next assignment. This should be an easy one: little suburban housewife getting divorce papers. She was even expecting them.
“I could make you go home.”
I thought about that for a moment. Maybe he could. I’d looked in his eyes last night, had felt the magic pulling me like an undertow. Could he use that same magic to bend me to his will? Probably. I just hoped he wouldn’t.
“If you do, it’s over. I won’t be anybody’s meat puppet. Not yours, not anyone’s.”
“Maybe I don’t care. Maybe having you alive matters more than whether or not you hate me.”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that. So I didn’t. The silence stretched uncomfortably. I pretended to concentrate on driving, turning left and slowing, my eyes scanning the row of split-level houses for the correct address. When I found it, I pulled the car to the kerb and shut off the engine. I grabbed my briefcase and climbed out of the car. Daniel did the same, following a few steps behind as I strode up the sidewalk to the front porch.
I rang the bell and Mrs West came to the door. She was pretty; a petite brunette that looked harried. In the background I could hear the sound of children fighting. She took the papers, thanked me and quickly closed the door.
It was only when I turned to go back to the car that I noticed Daniel wasn’t behind me. Instead, he was standing in the middle of the Wests’ manicured lawn. In front of him was the most striking woman I’d ever seen. She was tall, taller even than Daniel, with a muscular build and harsh features. I didn’t know who she was, but I could guess what she was. And while she was distracting Daniel, Alexander was moving i
n from behind.
“I cannot believe you are sleeping with a sheep. God, Daniel. How can you?”
“Hey, you! Who are you calling a sheep?” I shouted the words as I reached into my jacket, my hand closing around the handle of the squirt gun.
I had expected her to react, to attack me. She did turn, and would’ve charged, if Alexander’s magic hadn’t struck out at her like a lash.
“The sheep is mine.” His voice was a harsh caw. His throat might’ve looked whole, but either it hadn’t healed completely, or there was permanent damage.
I didn’t know what he was doing, but he somehow froze both the woman and Daniel in mid-motion. They stood, like statues, only their eyes moving. Those eyes followed Alexander’s gliding steps as his stalked me across the grass. I kept my head down, and began edging towards the car.
“Stop right there.”
I felt his power wash over me, felt him willing me to do as he said. But when the power hit the necklace Daniel had given me it scattered, leaving me in possession of my own mind, my own will.
It was then that I had a flash of insight. Daniel hadn’t made the charm for me. There’d been no time. No, he’d given me his charm - the one thing that had protected him from Alexander’s power. He’d left himself completely vulnerable to protect me. I knew, too, that if I didn’t stop Alexander somehow, we’d both die.
Time seemed to slow. Everything was preternaturally clear. I would have to let Alexander get close enough to use the squirt gun. But if he got that close, with his speed and strength, I’d have almost no chance of survival. I might just be able to wound him, maybe even badly enough for Daniel to finish him off. There’d still be the woman to deal with, but there was nothing I could do about that.
I stayed utterly motionless, barely daring to breathe. He was close now. So close that I could see the glint of moonlight off the buttons of his shirt, smell the scent of old blood on his breath.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
I turned, stepping forwards, lifting my head as though to comply, giving him exactly what he expected, right up until the last instant. When I pulled the gun from its hiding place, I aimed for the place where his heart should be, spraying holy water directly into his chest.
He screamed, an unearthly, high-pitched, keening wail that was nearly deafening. His body jerked back and flames erupted from a spreading hole the size of my fist, burning through his ribcage. I could see his lungs move as he tried to draw breath, then saw him raise his fist.
I knew that if that blow landed, I would be dead. But it didn’t land. A last squeeze of the trigger took out what was left of his heart, and he collapsed. Flames leaped up from his corpse as though it had been doused in gasoline. The heat was horrendous, and I fell back from it, my arm thrown up to protect my eyes. The stench of burning flesh filled the night, gagging me. Dropping the empty squirt gun, I staggered back, horrified.
By the light of the flickering flames I saw a battle raging. Magic and blows fell like rain, too many, too fast for me to follow.
They were evenly matched - the perfect offence meeting an equally perfect defence. Neither had the upper hand.
In the distance I heard sirens. We were running out of time. I stumbled towards the car, intending to go for the large water pistol in the back seat.
The movement distracted her for barely an instant - just long enough for her to turn her head to make sure I wasn’t a threat.
It was enough. Daniel used that moment to lunge forwards, claws extended. I heard the wet tearing of flesh, followed by her scream of rage and despair. She struggled, fought, as he tore the still-beating heart from her chest. She collapsed, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. With a roar of triumph, he threw it onto the still-burning thing that had been Alexander.
Bathed in blood, lit by firelight, the creature that stood before me was completely inhuman. It couldn’t be Daniel. And yet, it was.
He turned to me then, slowly, his movements those of a predator that spots easy prey. He took that first step forwards, and a second, and I felt my pulse speed - primal fear making the blood thunder through my veins. I couldn’t fight. I had no weapons. I couldn’t flee either. All I could do was stand my ground, face the inevitable.
He stopped. I watched him swallow, saw him struggle against the beast that was so much a part of him. It wasn’t easy. But slowly, the beast retreated and Daniel returned. When he was fully himself, he disappeared.
Three
I doused the woman’s body with the holy water in the gun from the back seat. By the time the cops arrived, all that was left of the vampires was a pair of black burned spots on the grass. Normal human bodies do not burn that completely, nor that fast. But that didn’t keep the police from investigating.
Eventually, I was cleared. But it took time: days and weeks. Long nights spent alone.
Daniel was gone. Vanished.
The sensible part of me knew it was for the best. The rest of me mourned his loss, hoped for him to return, if only to retrieve the charm necklace. I told myself I could go on without him - I didn’t need him. But I did.
Nearly two months had passed. It was late. I was awake, staring out the window at the moonlight, unable to sleep. My mind was on the night I first met Daniel as I traced my hand absently over the charm I continued to wear around my neck.
“I came to say goodbye. It will never work.” His voice was soft. “You’re human. I feed on humans. I’m immortal. You’re so terribly fragile. Anything could take you, at any time. If any of my kind find out, they’ll kill us both. Alexander isn’t the only hunter out there. I want you to live.”
I turned slowly, letting him see the tears that coursed down my cheeks. “There’s existing, and there’s living. Without you I’ll exist, but it won’t be living.”
He looked at me then, and I took a chance, met his gaze full on. If the eyes are the windows of the soul, I let him see mine, without any hiding or pretence. “I’d rather have a day with you, than a lifetime without. If time is so precious, do we even dare waste a second?”
It was a long time before he answered. Taking me into his arms, he pulled me close enough that his whisper was a breath of air against my hair. “No, we don’t.”
Author Biographies
C. T. Adams and Cathy Clamp
Award-winning USA Today bestselhng authors have written nearly a dozen paranormal romances, including the Sazi Shapeshifter series and the Thrall Vampire trilogy
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Constable & Robinson Ltd
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First published in the UK by Robinson, an imprint of Constable & Robinson, 2009
“Daniel” © by C. T. Adams and Cathy Clamp. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the authors.
The right of Trisha Telep to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A copy of the British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
UK ISBN 978-1-84529-941-5
First published in the United States in 2009 by Running Press Book Publishers
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