The Van Wilden Chronicles Box Set Books 1-3

by Jessica Gleave

  The waiter returned.

  “I’ll have the smoked salmon Caesar salad,” Morgana said. “I hear the Alaskan-caught is delicious in these parts,” she added, handing her menu to the waiter.

  Gareth nodded, though he had no idea and could care less. “Great choice. I’ll have the same. And please bring an extra loaf of bread and whipped butter spread.”

  A shy, radiant smile spread across Morgana’s face when he did, making his heart stutter.

  He’d noticed how much she had enjoyed the bread during dinner at Ava’s. He couldn’t help his own small smile.

  The waiter nodded and walked away.

  “Enough about me.” Morgana leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand. Gareth had a clear view down the front of her dress. Her auxiliary artery was throbbing. He knew he should be making eye contact, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “Tell me a bit about yourself, Gareth.”

  He gulped some champagne, desperately trying to distract himself from staring down the front of her dress. He looked up at her face and promised himself he wouldn’t look down again. Was her voice getting huskier? Trust a female to play to her strengths. “What would you like to know?”

  “Well, how long have you and Alastor lived in this town?”

  “We moved here about five years ago. We both needed a change from living in the chaotic city, so we thought small-town life might be the way to go for a while.”

  Morgana threw him a charming smile. “So… what made you want to volunteer on my father’s campaign?”

  “My parents were rich. They left me a trust fund, so I pretty much just live off that. A few years back, I graduated from a nearby university, but it didn’t really give me any direction, so I’ve just sort of considered myself a perpetual student of humanity, aren’t we all?” He adjusted the collar of his shirt, obviously not accustomed to wearing such restricting clothing. “Volunteering for your father’s campaign seemed like a good way to get out of the house and get to know the community better.”

  This was partly true—his parents had been wealthy back in the late nineteenth century, but he had never attended college, though he’d likely read more books than most of today’s college graduates, combined. As for a job, over the years, he’d held many, but while living in Oak Wood Hills, he had never felt the need for one. The locals had just accepted him and Alastor as rich kids living off their ‘parents’ money.

  “I see.” Morgana nodded. Gareth was relieved she didn’t seem too fazed by his lack of a career or interest in one. But then she did have vampires for parents, so she was likely used to coming across other vampires who didn’t work. Surely, she had sensed by now what he was? It depended on how old and experienced she was. He was still struggling to narrow down her age and wasn’t about to lay all his cards on the table.

  “How about you? What do you plan to do after the internship is finished?”

  “I’ll probably take the rest of the year off, then return to college in Autumn.”

  “In Autumn?”

  “I mean… in the fall? I’m still getting used to the varied English used over here. We say Autumn.” She laughed at herself.

  Gareth chuckled—her giggle was intoxicating. Everything felt so easy and natural with her, but suspicion still lingered in the back of his mind. She was withholding a lot of information, no doubt. But then, so was he. “But weren’t you born in America? You only lived in Australia for five years, right?” he pressed.

  Morgana took a sip of wine—obviously stalling to collect her thoughts. She even cleared her throat before answering, “It was our second move to Australia. I was very young the first time we moved there. Overall, I’ve lived there longer than in the States. I’m sure I’ve been more heavily influenced by their laid-back culture and terminology. If I say anything out of the ordinary, you’ll know why.” Morgana took a sip of champagne, avoiding eye contact with Gareth.

  Gareth nodded. It was a good lie. To anyone else, it would have seemed reasonable. He hoped a time would come when they could sledge hammer the proverbial walls and be honest with each other, but right now he was just pleased to have her sitting across the table from him. The view was divine.

  When the server arrived with their meals, Morgana seemed relieved. The colorful dishes placed before them smelled pleasant, but not as delicious as the blood flowing through Morgana’s veins.

  The rest of the meal went smoothly. They laughed easily and discussed everything from sports to the local weather. The server eventually arrived with the bill, signaling the end of the evening, but Gareth found himself wishing the night didn’t have to end. While he’d learned a lot about her personality, he still needed to dig deeper to uncover the truth about what she was.

  He paid the bill, despite Morgana insisting on paying half. “It’s the least I can do for a beautiful woman willing to suffer my company.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Maybe chivalry isn’t dead.”

  Oh, it lives on, he thought to himself—in the psyche of the one hundred and fifty-year-old undead.

  “Would you do me the honor of taking a walk with me?” he asked. He was afraid he was coming off too sheepish, but he was not accustomed to a woman making him feel so vulnerable. There was very little these days that could phase him as Morgana Van Wilden did by simply existing.

  She pulled on her jacket and smiled. “I’d love to.”

  As they exited the restaurant, on an impulse, Gareth took hold of her hand. It was delicate, soft, and warm—the way he had remembered the human touch—though he’d forgotten how thrilling it was. She squeezed his hand tightly in approval of the gesture, a feeling he had never experienced and would struggle to explain shot through his chest. She was electric. He led her down the main street, hands clasped together. She stopped occasionally to glance in a shop window. She seemed to like colored twinkle lights. He couldn’t always determine what she was looking at, but her reactions were entertaining. He supposed this was the sort of tedious activity human couples often engaged in on dates. All he knew for sure was he liked the feeling of Morgana’s hand in his.

  But how long was that going to last?

  Gareth led them over to the town center where he had first seen Morgana. He hoped the old oak would come across as a romantic destination, but really, he had an ulterior motive in mind.

  Gareth stopped suddenly, letting go of her hand. He felt the absence of her warmth, but he dismissed the feeling. Enough of the pretense. He needed to know what Morgana was and what she was doing in Oak Wood Hills.

  Morgana turned to him. “Why are we stopping?”

  “I wanted to show you something.” He pointed to the oak behind her.

  She turned and stepped up to the tree, running her fingers over the engravings. “It’s a bit early for us to be doing this, don’t you think?” She laughed.

  Gareth laughed and stepped up behind her. “That’s not why I brought you here. This is the oldest oak in town, planted the day the town was founded. Alastor and I have made our home here.” He leaned over her, resting one hand on the tree trunk above her. “We’re not about to let it get destroyed.”

  Morgana furrowed her brow and arched an eyebrow. “What are you trying to say, Gareth?”

  “You know what I am, don’t you?”

  Morgana sighed, nodding. “Yes, Gareth, I do.”

  He moved closer, nudging her back against the tree.

  Her breathing hitched, and the beating of her heart thumped in his ears, and her carotid artery pulsed in her neck. All so very human. She licked her lips, staring at his.

  “So, then you should know that I’m also aware of what your parents are.”

  “I suspected.” She bit her lower lip.

  “Then, I have to ask.” He placed a hand to her face searching her brown eyes, “What are you? And what’s your family doing in my town?”

  Morgana hesitated. She opened her mouth to reply.

  The sound of screeching police sirens and tires echoed all around them.
Police cars sped past them toward the forest. The sound of ambulances could also be heard in the distance.

  Morgana eyed Gareth. A look of recognition flickered across her face as if she had just realized something—something he should probably know about.

  “I’ve got to go,” she said, hurriedly slipping past him.

  Gareth reached for her hand. “What is it? Are your parents attacking humans in the forest?” he asked.

  Morgana turned back toward him, snarling. “It’s not my parents! I have to go.”

  Gareth took a step back. The force she was capable of projecting had taken him off guard. The look on Morgana’s face was certainly not human. Alastor was right, she might be half-vampire. But how was that possible?

  He grabbed her arm. “Tell me what it is, Morgana. Let me help.”

  “I can’t,” she said, her face softening. “Just stay out of the forest.”

  Gareth didn’t know how to respond. He wondered for a moment if she might not want him to discover it was her parents killing hunters in the forest after all, but he suspected it took a lot more than hungry parents to elicit this level of emotional response from her. No, this was bigger than a family ordeal.

  He had no intention of complying, but he nodded in agreement. The increasing feeling of affection for her was getting stronger. He just wished they could get past the persistent feeling of distrust. Gareth hated her keeping secrets from him. Especially if it meant she was in some sort of danger. But what could he do, they barely knew each other. Hell, it was only their first date. She wasn’t about to reveal everything to him, but he had to try.

  “If it’s your parents, you can tell me. Who am I to judge how they feed?”

  “Trust me when I say this, Gareth, it is not my parents,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “They feed from blood bags.”

  “Then who or what is it?”

  “I don’t know… exactly. Just stay out of the woods.” She grabbed the front of his shirt to reinforce what she was saying. “Please listen to me.”

  Gareth was again taken aback by her force, “Why?”

  “I have to go,” she growled.

  “Fine. I’ll stay out of the forest.”

  She squinted, exerting a fierce assessment of whether or not he was answering honestly. “And don’t follow me.” She turned and began walking away.

  He stood still to reinforce the notion he was listening to her and would dutifully heed her warning. But the first chance he got, he was going into the damn forest. He needed answers, and if she weren’t going to offer them up, he’d get them on his own.

  Meanwhile, he admired her speed and steady pace of departure despite wearing heels—surely faster than any human could pull off with a footwear handicap. He had definitely never met a woman like her. He almost wanted to follow her instructions. Almost.

  The uneasy feeling something wasn’t right was growing in his mind. Morgana knew more than she was letting on, but this was his town. She was the key to this whole mystery, though. And the first chance he got, he was going into the woods.

  Chapter Eleven

  Morgana practically ran from Gareth. He had upset her, but she was hurrying to get home to change and head out to the woods. She glanced back. His expression was confused and forlorn. He genuinely seemed to want to help. Her heart sank. One day she might be able to tell him everything, but now was not the time.

  Morgana felt her phone vibrating in her bag. She dug it out and saw Oscar’s name flashing on the screen.

  “Hello, Father. What’s the situation?”

  “There’s been another attack in the forest. Your mother and I are on our way there now. We’re going to use the cover as the concerned and caring mayoral candidate to distract the emergency responders while you try to view the body and pick up on any trails leading away from the scene.”

  Morgana scowled. “Sure, sounds like a good idea.” She hated it when her parents took charge, but no matter how old she got, they would always be older. What was she to say? Her father was a Council Elder, and technically she was under his employment too.

  “How far away are you?” Oscar asked.

  “I’m almost home, going to get changed.”

  “Good. Don’t forget the wolfsbane, Morgana. We aren’t dealing with civilized vampires here.”

  “I never do.”

  “Good, good.”

  Morgana could hear hushed whispering in the background and her father’s sigh.

  “Morgana, I have something to ask you.”

  “Yes?” She was worried. What’s wrong?

  “Your mother wants to know how your date went?” His voice strained.

  Morgana shook her head. Even in the middle of a crisis, her mother was still pushing for her to find a mate.

  “Let her know I’ll tell her all about it when we debrief later.” She pressed the end button. Morgana looked around, listening for humans. The streets were quiet. She slipped off her heels and picked up her pace, reaching her highest speed.

  Arriving home within seconds, she sprinted upstairs and into her room, changing quickly, pausing only to pick up her perfume bottle of wolfsbane to create a spray-cloud of the apoptraic and walked through it. In the weapons room, she found her stake holster and loaded her belt with as many stakes as it would hold. She was ready.

  Morgana ran to the edge of the forest. The flashing of blue and red sirens lit up the woods like a carnival. Oscar was speaking with a local news crew. Ava was spellbound.

  Morgana veered to the left, leaving a wide space between herself and the search crews before reaching the scene of the crime. There were police officers everywhere patrolling the woods. Lucky for her, no one had seen her approaching. She jumped into the nearest tree mere seconds before they crossed the path where she had just passed. The lead officer frowned as he looked. He was right to think he’d seen something moving. He scratched his head then kept walking. Morgana cursed under her breath. She needed to be more careful.

  Moving swiftly amongst the treetops, she stopped above the roped-off area. The smell of blood was everywhere, and the unfamiliar scent of new vampires hung in the air. Morgana noted there was also a coroner’s van. The ambulance drivers were lifting a male body onto a wheeled stretcher. The other body—much smaller, likely a female—was already zipped inside a body bag. If the female were around the same age as the male, the vampires had attacked two teenagers. They were likely residents of the nearby apartment complex and had wandered into the woods to smoke a joint or make out. She heard her father’s voice.

  He was talking with his hands up in the air. “Now, now, I believe I have a right to know what goes on in Oak Wood—”

  The sheriff interrupted Oscar, his tone abrupt, “Yes, you do, Mr. Van Wilden, when it’s daylight, and we have finished gathering all of the evidence necessary for your presence not to tamper with our investigation. Only trained officers can be present at this time.”

  “Fair enough. I’d never want to obstruct an official police investigation.” Oscar turned back toward the news crew and recording camera. “But when I’m elected mayor of this fine town, these attacks will no longer happen. I assure the good people of this.”

  Oscar was playing up his role a little too well. He was a sort of politician in their world as well. But this disingenuous, human version was difficult for Morgana to stomach. She also noticed Ava was still in the crowd, soaking up every word her father said. Alastor was standing right behind her. They were never far apart, those two.

  The ambulance drivers were placing the second gurney into the back of the ambulance. Morgana would have to act fast if she were going to get a clear view of the bodies. Then she heard her mother scream.

  “Oh, my poor wife, I think she’s gone into shock,” Oscar cried out. “Quick, you two, please help.” He pointed to the ambulance drivers. They rushed over to look over poor Vivienne. The crowd, including all nearby police officers, gathered around her as well. Their full attention was now on the overwhelmed, fain
ted woman. It would get even more interesting if the EMTs realized she had no pulse. There was no time to waste.

  Morgana leaped from the tree into the open doors at the back of the ambulance where they had loaded the young male’s body. She landed softly, so the ambulance would not rock from her movements. The boy laid unconscious on the gurney. Deathly pale. They had not likely detected a pulse and pronounced him dead upon arrival, but Morgana was familiar with his condition, and he was very much still alive, so to speak. The paramedic had stopped the bleeding on his neck. Morgana pulled back the bandages, grimacing. It was not a pretty sight. Instead of two perfect puncture marks, there was a large gash down the side of his neck like it had been ripped away. The right side of the boy’s body was covered in blood. This was definitely the work of newly-turned vampires. It could not have been Gareth or Alastor. They would be a lot more experienced at feeding. Plus, Gareth had a pretty solid alibi, having spent the night at dinner with her. There’s no way this was an hours-old injury. Either way, this boy had no chance. Morgana heard the approaching footsteps of one of the ambulance drivers.

  “I’ve got to get this poor love-struck fool to the hospital, not waste my night looking after some fainting woman. Not even mayor yet and he thinks he can boss us around already,” mumbled the driver. Morgana quickly re-bandaged the wound then leaped from the ambulance into the nearest tree.

  “Dang, I thought I just saw… never mind.” The ambulance driver rubbed his eyes and closed the doors, shaking his head. “What a night.” His female partner agreed. The other paramedic team returned as well and climbed into the second ambulance. The first bleeped the siren to clear their path, and they all headed toward the hospital. Morgana could see Vivienne sitting up, fanning herself with her hand, Oscar hovering over her. Vivienne glanced up into the trees and gave her a quick wink before trying to get to her feet. Morgana smiled. Her mother loved theatrics.

  Morgana waited until the crowd and the police who’d roped off the area had all left. Her parents made a show to leave, even driving away, but they returned shortly, approaching Morgana’s tree. She jumped down when they arrived.