Authors: Marissa Farrar
At the same moment the
sun set beneath the horizon, Sebastian’s eyes flew open. The cellar of the old, abandoned hunting lodge in which he’d taken refuge remained pitch black, but this didn’t affect his body clock. He always knew, through some intrinsic aligning of his body and the solar and lunar cycle, when his time had come to wake or sleep.
Today he
had a reason to stir from his dreamless slumber. Today was Elizabeth’s birthday.
He
pushed off the wooden crates he’d positioned over himself—extra protection in case someone did return to this place. He doubted they would; he’d been able to tell from the smell of the old cabin that no human had been here for several years now, but he preferred to be cautious. The cellar stank of dampness, mold and mildew covering every surface. The rough log walls of the levels above ground had fared a little better, but he’d not been tempted to stay beneath one of the beds or even in one of the musty closets. With these old places, there was always a chance of a crack appearing in the wooden walls or furniture, allowing sunlight through. Just a chink of light would cause him some serious burns and he couldn’t risk needing to find somewhere else to hide out in the middle of the day—something that could kill him.
Anyway, he didn’t plan on staying here for long. He didn’t stay anywhere for any length of time
, and he’d been at the cabin for a couple of weeks now. His time to keep moving was fast approaching, though he was unsure where he would head to next. He lived the existence of a nomad, constantly moving onward, with no plan or schedule to negotiate his movements. He figured the less he knew where he was headed, the less likely someone else would be able to stay one step ahead and find him.
However much he missed Serenity and Elizabeth—and he did miss them, missed them with a deep yearning that encompassed his whole soul—he was also relieved that they now lived a relatively normal life. Removing himself from the equation had allowed such a thing to happen.
After he’d left and started calling home to make sure they were all right, Elizabeth had initially been upset, then angry, and for a while even refused to speak to him—something that hurt more than any physical pain he’d ever experienced. But now when they spoke, she chatted happily about her day at school, her friends, what book she was reading or bands she liked—just like, he imagined, any normal girl would. She no longer needed to live her life explaining the lie of her father’s severe allergy to the sun, the fictional reason for him to always stay in the dark, something which automatically made her stand out from others at a time she only wanted to fit in, labeling her a freak simply by association. Now she could tell friends the truth—her dad was no longer around. An absent father was hardly an unusual occurrence these days. Not that this made him feel any better.
Speaking to Elizabeth always helped confirm in his head that he had done the right thing by leaving. There was no talk of blood or strange things happening, and though it had taken a long time to reach this point, he now at least felt at ease that removing himself from their family life had been for the best thing for their daughter.
Serenity however … Serenity was different. They didn’t speak as openly as he was able to with Elizabeth, their tone always somewhat guarded. They carefully skirted the topics of other people or places Serenity might have been, and he knew she never asked about his feeding for the same reason—a need to simply not know.
Sebastian had no doubt that there would never be another woman in his life. Even the beautiful ones he occasioned across, who smiled and flirted with him, not knowing who or what he
was, did nothing for him. Instead, he comforted himself with the memory of being with Serenity, falling into a trance-like state where he seemed to exist only in his memories. He brought to mind the warmth of her skin against his. The way her dark eyes lit with life when she smiled. The softness of her curls as he ran them through his fingers. Her fierce love for both him and Elizabeth.
How he’d given all of that up.
Years had passed now and he wouldn’t have blamed Serenity for moving on, though the idea filled him with a crazed, all-consuming jealousy. The thought alone of another man’s hands on her hips, his lips against her skin, another man pushing into that most private
part of her, felt like a white-hot flame sweeping through his entire being, consuming all other emotions. He could imagine no other mortal man being good enough to even breathe in her direction, never mind being held in the warm circle of her arms. The possibility of being forced to confront such a man also left him crazed, especially if Serenity had feelings for him or Elizabeth had started to think of him as a father figure. While no part of Sebastian would ever want to cause Serenity pain, he couldn’t imagine not ripping the man limb from limb and bathing in his blood.
He forced the image from his head. He knew such a thing was possible—he’d sensed the occasions where she’d distanced herself from him, both mentally and physically, taking, he suspected, another vampire’s blood. Yet, she’d still come back to him the next month and he’d sensed their blood bond renewed. She’d not given up on him completely.
Elizabeth was thirteen now. She was growing up so fast and he’d only caught glimpses of her childhood—during the time Serenity had been taken, and then the glorious year after she’d been returned. Soon, their daughter would be a grown woman with a life of her own and, though he didn’t want to wish her childhood away, he held onto the possibility that perhaps then he could risk being close to Serenity again. He needed that tiny thread of hope. Without it, he would risk losing all of his humanity and would simply be overwhelmed by the bloodlust he constantly fought.
Sebastian left the rundown lodge and set off at a sprint through the forest, pine needles thick underfoot like a cushion, releasing their distinctive scent into the night air. His keen sense of hearing picked up the low roar of a truck’s tires against asphalt. Where there was a road, there would eventually be a service stop. Where there was a service stop, he would also find a phone.
Within minutes, he came across the highway, winding its way through the pine-covered mountains, their scent strong in his nostrils. He kept up his pace, running alongside the road, while staying deep enough in the wooded covering to remain hidden from any passing motorists, though they were few and far between.
He’d been living rurally for some time now, stopping in at small towns when he needed to place a call back home or send something back to his family. To feed, he’d been taking out the occasional roamer, someone with no home or family who would miss them, he hoped. Even so, death had never lain easy on his shoulders, even now, after more than two hundred years. But he was a killer. There was no escaping that fact.
Animals moved around him, birds bursting from their roosts in the branches above his head, rabbits scampering to safety with a flash of white. The wind stirred the branches above his head as he moved almost silently through the forest, his feet automatically knowing the exact spot in which to tread. He ran with a sense of freedom, like flying, feeling as he thought the birds must when they caught a wind current and circled in the sky.
Finally, he came across what he was looking for. He smelled it first—the thick, acrid slick of oil. Next
came the sound of a condensed area of vehicles, people talking, and the underlying hum of fluorescent strip lighting. From between the trees appeared the unnatural square structure of the truck stop. The sudden reek of urine from lazy truckers who had used the back of the building instead of bothering to head into the bathroom assaulted his nostrils.
He slowed and emerged from behind the building to step up onto the road. The rest stop—though the building itself was small—had a decent-sized lot carved out of the forest which was covered in asphalt. A single eighteen-wheeler truck was parked, the owner of the vehicle either sleeping in the cab or using the facilities. He paused for a moment, concentrating. He got no sense of warmth or life from the vehicle. The driver must be in the café.
Sebastian headed into the restaurant. He pushed open the door, a small bell above his head tinkling his arrival. The air was redolent with the scent of over-cooked oil and burned coffee. A couple of rugged men sat at the counter, one forking pie into his mouth and wearing a scowl in Sebastian’s direction, the other drinking coffee and nose-deep in the local paper, no doubt reading about the spate of disappearances that had occurred lately. Neither of these men were the one from the truck, he could tell by their scent. He guessed that particular man must be in the restroom as he’d suspected.
His sharp eyes picked out the old-fashioned phone still attached to the back wall. He’d worried there was a chance they wouldn’t have one—after all, everyone used cell phones these days—but he guessed the reception wasn’t exactly great around these parts.
He gave a tight smile at the young girl standing behind the counter, a pot of coffee clutched in her hand. The girl gave a flustered smile in return, her cheeks growing red, her heart rate increasing at the sight of him, the sound filling his ears. Quickly, she turned her back and busied herself with something else.
Sebastian knew he looked strange—out here in the middle of nowhere, with no vehicle to have brought him here and miles of forests and mountains surrounding him. Plus, his smart clothes and lack of thermal clothing didn’t help. He was bound to attract attention.
He lifted the phone receiver, added some change from his jacket pocket and punched in his old home number, the digits remembered by heart.
The ring of the phone came down the line.
“Sebastian?”
She answered with his name, a frantic tone beneath her voice. Instantly, his hackles rose, knowing something was wrong.
“Serenity, what’s happened?”
She broke down on the phone.
“Oh, God, Sebastian. I’ve been waiting for you to call. Elizabeth got her period this morning and then attacked her friends.”
“What do you mean, ‘attacked her friends’?”
Her voice came out as a whisper. “She bit one of them.”
“What?” He couldn’t help the shock ratcheting through him.
No, surely not his sweet little girl?
“She drank the girl’s blood and then threw it back up. She’s been up in her room since we got back and she’s really upset about what she did. But she’s changing. I can feel it.”
He’d feared this might happen someday, but had been hoping and praying Elizabeth would stay just as she was. How was she going to cope with being like him? He’d never wanted that for her.
“You don’t have to—”
“Hey, buddy. I need the phone.”
Sebastian looked over his shoulder to see a burly man in a thick lambskin jacket standing too close.
The trucker.
Sebastian narrowed his eyes and shook his head, indicating the phone was in use.
The man took a step closer, a scowl on his weather-beaten features, a reddened, bulbous nose poking from a heavily bearded face. The gap was only a matter of feet now.
“I’m busy,” Sebastian said, regarding the man coolly before turning his back on him once more.
“Sebastian?” Serenity’s worried voice came down the line, obviously wondering what was happening. He opened his mouth to tell her everything was all right when the man spoke over the top of him again, too loud, as though wanting the other men in the room to hear him, trying to prove something, though Sebastian couldn’t imagine what.
“You think you out-of-towners can come up here and treat this place like your own—”
Sebastian’s patience snapped. He spun around, curled his lip and hissed, flashing his fangs at the guy. The man stumbled back, almost falling over a chair. He turned his head, his eyes locked on Sebastian’s face as he staggered to get away.
“Ralph?” one of the other guys sitting at the counter called out as the man ran from the building, his face pale, and climbed back into his truck.
Sebastian took a perverse delight in watching the man’s fear and then turned his attention back to the phone. “I’m sorry, Serenity. Some people have clearly forgotten their manners.”
“Is everything all right?”
“The only concern I have right now is for Elizabeth.”
“We need you, Sebastian. Elizabeth needs you. I don’t know how to handle this. I need you to come home.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll come right away.”
“Are you far?”
“I’m in Canada. I’ll be with you long before daybreak.”
“Oh, thank God.” He sensed her relief down the line. Hearing her emotion in her voice gave him a sense of purpose. His family still needed him.
“And, Sebastian, this may sound stupid, but be careful. An awful storm seems to be heading this way.”
His lips quirked in a smile. Even after all this time, with everything that had happened and was happening, she still worried about him.
“A bit of bad weather won’t keep me away. I’m coming to you, Serenity,” he said. “I’m coming home.”
Serenity replaced the receiver only
to turn and collide with a wall of cold, hard muscle. Not thinking, she let out a scream and lifted her hands to batter away the sudden intrusion. Strong fingers wrapped around her wrists and she looked up into Vincent’s serious, gray eyes.
She sagged with relief.
“Jesus, Vincent. You just scared the hell out of me.”
“I’m sorry.” He glowered down at her from beneath his heavy brow. “I sensed something was wrong.”
She carefully took her wrists back and stepped away. Like most vampires she’d come across, he always made for an imposing figure. He was dressed in blue jeans and a black t-shirt that would probably be a regular fit on most guys, but on him was stretched over every bulging muscle of his shoulders, chest and biceps. His shaved head only served to make his strong features more prominent—the deep set, blue-gray eyes, the hard jaw and Roman nose.
Relief quickly replaced t
he initial surge of panic. She was glad to see him. While Vincent might not be her vampire of choice, he was still a vampire and might be able to help her with Elizabeth.
“You were right,” she said. “Something is wrong.”
She glanced up the stairway, toward Elizabeth’s room. The upper floor remained still and silent. She’d need to go up and check on her daughter in a minute, though she suspected the poor girl had cried herself to sleep.
Vincent’s big hand made contact with her arm, drawing her attention back to him. His touch was cool, so like Sebastian’s. Memories flooded over her and she experienced a flash of excitement that caught her breath with its impact.
He’s coming home. Sebastian is coming back to us.
Unexpectedly, her eyes filled with tears.
How much she had wanted this … but not at this price.
“Hey, tell me what’s happened.”
The big vampire lowered his head, bunching the huge muscles of his neck and shoulders, to take in the sight of her face. She turned from him slightly, almost embarrassed to admit the reason for her tears. Vincent had been a friend to her over the last few years—albeit a strange and periodical one—he’d disappeared in and out of her life at will, reappearing when she least expected it.
She didn’t know how he would react to the news that Sebastian was coming home. He was hardly Sebastian’s biggest fan. After all, Sebastian had killed Vincent’s mother, even if he couldn’t truly be held responsible. Also, she didn’t think she imagined the reason for Vincent staying around. She’d taken his blood
, and taking a vampire’s blood created a connection stronger than any other in this world. She’d sensed his interest in her, in the intimacy he wanted to take further. But, in her heart, it was always going to be Sebastian. She would gladly accept Vincent’s friendship, but no one else would ever come close to the father of her child.
Vincent took her by the hand and led her into the sitting room, carefully leading her to the couch as though she were an old woman. She sat, grateful, and Vincent took a seat beside her. He leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees, the denim stretch
ed tight across his thick thighs, his hands clasped together beneath his chin as he looked at her.
“I’m sorry.” She swiped at the tears dampening her face. “I think I’m still in shock.” She took a deep shuddering breath and told him what had happened that day.
For the first time, she witnessed Vincent’s eyes widen with surprise. “Wow. Poor Elizabeth.”
“We need to find a way to make it stop.”
“Is such a thing possible?”
“I was hoping you might be able to tell me that.”
Vincent shook his head. “I’m sorry, Serenity, but I don’t know of any other person like Elizabeth. I’m still young in vampire terms and I’ve never come across another half-vampire child. Perhaps you need to ask an older vampire …”
The implications of what he’d suggested cleared over his strong features and the reason for her being on the phone when he’d entered dawned on him. “But then you already have, haven’t you?”
“Sebastian just called here. I had no choice. He needs to be here with us.”
Vincent
growled, a low rumbling in his chest. “He’s the reason you were all in danger last time. He’s the reason my mother is dead! Yet you ask him back here?”
“He’s still Elizabeth’s father.”
“He left to keep her safe.”
“And now he needs to come home to save her from herself. He’s the only one who can really understand her.”
“I can help, Serenity. I don’t know how yet, but I’ll do anything in my power to make sure you both stay safe. Tell your vampire to stay away.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Vincent, but he’d already on his way. Elizabeth and I are his family. It’s
his
job to keep us safe.”
“Then where’s he been these last few years?”
“Doing exactly that.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between them. She didn’t want Vincent to be angry. Aside from the fact that the huge, brooding vampire was a terrifying sight when he was angry, she also didn’t want to make him feel bad. Outside the window, a sudden rain tore from the sky, lashing with ferocious strokes against the pane of glass. The building storm must have broken. Something tumbled and crashed against the side of the house. She guessed one of the box bushes in a tub—two of which framed the front door—had been caught by the wind and knocked over.
A scuffing on the stairs caught both their attention and they rose to their feet at the sound. Elizabeth walked into the room, her arms folded across her chest.
She stared sullenly at Vincent. “What’s he doing here?”
“Hey, honey,” Serenity said. “How are you feeling?”
Elizabeth ignored her question. “What’s he doing here?” she repeated, staring at Vincent with open hostility.
“He felt something was wrong. He wanted to help.”
“Well, I don’t need his help. I don’t want any goddamned vampires anywhere near me.”
“Elizabeth!” The venom in her daughter’s voice shocked her.
“Vampires did this to me. What do you think I’m going to
do? Embrace him with open arms?”
“Vincent isn’t responsible for what happened today. And no one did this to you. You are who you are.”
“I’m half-fucking-vampire, that’s what I am! I wish I’d never been born.”
Serenity gasped. “Don’t say that.”
“This is
your
fault,” she spat at Serenity. “What sort of freak gets into bed with a vampire anyway?”
Serenity felt like she’d been slapped.
Vincent stepped in. “Elizabeth, don’t talk to your mother like that.”
She rounded on him, her eyes fierce. The effect was almost comical, the girl taking on the massive vampire. “You shouldn’t even be here. You’re not my father!” She turned back to Serenity. “Does Sebastian know about his visits? What’s Dad going to say if he finds him here?”
It wasn’t often Serenity found herself mad at Elizabeth, but anger flared inside of her, hot and consuming. Perhaps an element of truth in Elizabeth’s accusations caused her reaction.
“I’ve not hidden anything from your father, Elizabeth. He’s never asked and I’ve had no reason to tell him.”
Elizabeth cocked her hip and her lower lip pouted. “Sounds like you’ve been hiding things to me. I’d like to see your reaction if I gave you that excuse about not telling you something.”
Serenity sighed, her anger melting. “You’re right. Not telling him is as good as lying, but sometimes we hide things from the people we love in order to not cause them pain, especially when there isn’t any reason for that pain.”
“Yeah, well, he’d be pretty mad if he found out.”
“He’s going to find out.” She took a deep breath, unsure of how her daughter was going to react, considering the mood she was in. “Elizabeth, your father is coming home.”
She watched a whole spectrum of emotions cross Elizabeth’s face, each passing like the briefest flicker of light, only to be replaced by the next—shock, happiness, fear, disbelief.
“But … but I thought it wasn’t safe for him to be near us.”
“With what happened today, I think we need him here. What’s happening to you far outweighs any risk.”
Her daughter’s gaze drilled into hers.
“And what
is
happening to me?”
Serenity couldn’t
bring herself to say the words:
You’re turning into a vampire.
Instead, the question hung unanswered between them.
“When will he get here?” Elizabeth asked finally.
“I’m not sure. Some time tonight. He’s been in Canada.”
Tight-lipped, Elizabeth nodded. They both knew the distance didn’t mean much. He could move faster than any vehicle, covering the miles in minutes.
“But while we wait for him,” Serenity continued, “if you have any questions about what happened today, or about how you’re feeling, then Vincent is here to help as well.”
Elizabeth only offered the big vampire a scowl. “I don’t want your help. Just because you and my mom have got some weird thing going doesn’t make you my dad.”
He glowered at her. “I’m not trying to be. I just want to make sure you and your mother are all right.”
“Well, I’m not all right, am I? I would have thought that was pretty obvious.”
Serenity felt a wave of sorrow for Vincent. Indirectly, because of her, he’d been displaced from every family he’d ever known. She’d killed his maker, Demitri, in New York, after he’d kidnapped Elizabeth, and then Sebastian had killed his mother, Bridget. Now, here he was, and had been for the last six years, trying to create a place for himself within their home—a place that was already taken, albeit by a person who was no longer there. Perhaps she should have been crueler, told him he wasn’t wanted and sent him on his way, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Vincent had more reason than anyone to want to see the destruction of her little family, to want them to suffer, yet he’d remained a solid presence in the background, a shoulder for her to cry on when she’d struggled to survive without Sebastian in her life. He’d even offered his own blood as a substitute to the stock of Sebastian’s. Of course, it had occurred to her he hadn’t made the offer purely for altruistic reasons.
Elizabeth stamped her foot on the floor, like a much younger child. “None of you can help me! I’m going to turn into a bloodsucking freak and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. And if Sebastian thinks he can waltz in here to save the day after we haven’t seen him for God-knows-how-many years, well, he can just think again!”
With that, the girl spun around and tore from the room, stomping back up the stairs. Her bedroom door slammed, the sound ricocheting through the house.
Serenity and Vincent exchanged a glance.
Vincent gave her a tentative smile. “A teenage vampire. Just what the world needs.”