Knight Predator (12 page)

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the fucking bitch who keeps parking her half-arsed excuse for a motorcycle in my path.” I mimicked his tone exactly, while my spirits sank.

Allenby stood by us, hatred in his eyes. I hated him—the ratty brown eyes were psychopathic and dangerously intelligent. I wanted the pleasure of seeing him grow old and frail. I would kill him much later on in his life when he was completely defenseless, just so he knew exactly how it felt to be picked on by a stronger opponent.

He stood before me with his arms crossed in a posture of supreme arrogance, a smug smile playing about his thin lips. He shifted to rest his weight on his back foot, and his tattoos appeared to snake and ripple up and down an unusually clean arm. Something about him had changed, but in my anxiety to be under cover before dawn, I could not see what it was.

His hand shot out and grabbed the front of my white shirt, and I looked down with mild alarm when I saw the knuckles. I had not expected such speed from a mortal. From a mortal. I studied the hand with rising shock. The knuckles gleamed with their snowy skin, the hair clearly outlined on the back of the hand. I followed the white hand up the white arm to his equally white face and looked deep into unfathomable burning brown eyes, shining in the predawn hour, the lustrous, graying, dark hair.

Oh my deary me. He was one of us now. A vampire. What idiot had been responsible for that?

“Okay, so you’re one of us now.” My voice was cold as I leaned forward to glare at him. “Remember this: You are nothing but a novice compared to me, and I do not have time to waste on you. If you ever come near me again I can and will kill you.”

Faster than the eye could catch, I wrapped my strong fingers around his throat. He swallowed convulsively and clawed at my arm with iron fingers as I picked him up and hurled him against the nearest brick wall.

There was an ugly crunching sound, and a small spray of blood on impact, and he slid down the wall to collapse in a still, crumpled heap.

From behind me, I heard Bronwyn give vent to a sobbing, moaning scream and fumble for the car door. Quick as a flash I was behind the steering wheel, punching the central locking button, and on my way out into the traffic, looking anxiously up into the brightening sky. Cursing, hoping I was going to get home in time, I took a quick look at Bronwyn.

She was curled up in the seat as far away as possible from me. Her eyes were wide with horror and the wariness that had taken me so long to extinguish flared up again in full force.

“Bronwyn?”

“You killed that man.”

“Actually, no I didn’t.”

“Oh really? So what was that back there?”

“Something I never wanted you to see.” It was true. I was a killer and did enjoy drinking blood—that much was true—but did not enjoy doing it with an audience. I also realized I had lost her, whatever regard she may have had for me, and that hurt like hell.

“When were you going to kill me?”

I cast an anxious eye at the steadily lightening sky and struggled to remain awake. I weaved in and out of slower traffic, suppressing a curse. When I got clear again, I put my foot down on the accelerator and turned to her. “I’m not going to kill you, Bronwyn.

That’s the truth.”

She stared at me, face inscrutable. “Oooh yeah, right. You never wanted me around anyway.” It took all of my considerable restraint not to flinch at the sarcastic tone and barefaced directness.

“Bronnie, I don’t really have time for this now, but I will answer all of your questions this evening.” I was most of the way toward being unconscious and was rapidly losing my coordination. Before I caused a massive accident, I pulled over to the side of the road, in front of an abandoned park that was so overgrown it was almost a wilderness.

Traffic blared horns past us at my unscheduled stop.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Bronwyn stared at me, alarmed despite herself. She reached for me, but I avoided her grasp.

I staggered out of the car and leaned heavily back in the window.

“I don’t have time to explain now. Wait for me this evening at home.

Please?” I was begging. I didn’t want to lose her.

Bronwyn’s wide green eyes were suddenly sober. I could see she was fighting herself. One half of her still saw a beautiful woman, the other half thought she saw an unpredictable, cold-blooded murderer.

There was also a glimmer of courage in her eyes as she realized the power she had resting in her hands. “How does it feel to have the tables turned on you? Why does my opinion matter to you so much?

Ask yourself that.”

She was right. Why didn’t I want to lose her? Was it because she was a friend? Was it because I could finally say to someone what I really was? Was it because I needed to tell my story, to justify myself to her? I didn’t really want to lose the sheen she had put on me, did I?

“Please? Wait for me? Please?”

Bronwyn smiled a cold smile and nodded decisively. “I still owe you one for taking me in, I suppose. All right, then, I’ll wait for you.”

“Thank you.” Never had my words been more heartfelt, and I let everything I was feeling show in my eyes. Her eyes widened in surprise. “This evening.” She had seen me at my most vulnerable.

Now I could only hope that she kept up her end of the bargain and be waiting for me . . . alone.

I stumbled into the ragged bushes, barely functioning, as the first rays of dawn lit up the sky. I found a dark place between two bushes and fell to my knees. My conscious mind was almost gone, pushed aside by the deepening paralysis that was rapidly claiming me. I allowed my pure animal instinct to take over and dug myself into the forgiving earth before sleep claimed me.

I was rare for a vampire. I did not need to rest in my mother earth.

Vampire history had it that those who had been made willingly were not bound to the earth that had once housed their moral remains. Those who were made unwillingly did have to remain in their mother earth.

It seemed somehow cosmic justice—those who thought that being undead was a prison sentence were kept confined; those who didn’t were free to roam the earth. Naturally, I was free to roam the earth.

As always, when I slept I did not dream, and I never woke up stiff and sore as humans do. It was the one real blessing about being a vampire. I could do what I wanted and I never hurt myself; the blood was a wonderful restorative. That night was no different, but when I woke up the next evening, it was with a groan. I clawed myself out of the ground, with no small amount of disgust at the filthy state I found myself in. I blew a sod of dirt out of my mouth, and coughed and spluttered against the unwelcome, coarse taste.

It’d been quite some time since I’d been out under the stars far away from civilization, trying to sleep like that just to see if I could do it.

Now I remembered why I didn’t like doing it.

I rubbed the back of my neck and sighed at the gritty feeling. After pulling myself to my feet, I stretched and looked down at my ruined clothes. Dirt did not stick to my skin so I would be clean in no time, but my cool and stylish apparel wasn’t cool and stylish anymore.

I walked to the edge of the road and took a good look around.

Traffic was light, as I suspected it would be. It was exactly why I’d chosen this route. No one would really be around to see the Cave Creature of Borneo emerge from the ground. Of course, it wasn’t the most direct route home, but if I ran I could make it back there in about half an hour.

Resigned to my fate, I began to run down the road. My body settled into a comfortable rhythm, stomach loudly mentioning its neglect. I would have to feed before I spoke to Bronwyn; I suspected it would be a long night of intense conversation with her.

About ten minutes from home, I stopped off for a quick bite. It was a filthy, hallucinating, homeless young man, and I made sure I did my usual trick of healing his wounds with my blood, so people would think he’d had a heart attack.

As I approached my house, I felt a slight tremor of apprehension.

Would Bronwyn have called the police? What would be waiting for me when I got home? The question that really twisted my gut was whether Bronwyn would still be there. Would she give me the chance to explain? Had I lost my young mortal friend?

It was time to face the music. The gates stood wide open, and I walked through them. I made my way up the asphalt driveway, wondering how I was going to tell Bronwyn what I needed to tell her.

With a steady hand I put my key in the front door, twisted the knobs, and opened them.

“Bronwyn?” I heard the unsteadiness, the aching question in my voice and cursed myself for my weakness. “Bronwyn?”

I noticed the dribbles of earth that were coming off me and landing on the clean, white tiles of the foyer. I was too melancholy to think clearly, so I wandered down to my basement hideaway to change my clothes, resolving to clean up after myself once that was done, if Bronwyn was still not in the house. I had no idea where she would have gone, other than the police. Being a vampire, I was quite lucky because I never had to follow human laws. If I ended up in custody, it would be a novel experience I could snack my way out of, rather than a huge drama.

In the shower I soaked luxuriously in the hot water, trying not to think about my young friend. After I was done, and I threw my soiled clothes into the trash, I stopped and extended my keen hearing to cover the house. There was the ticking of a clock, mindlessly marching through eternity; the scrape of tree branches against the windows of the upstairs spare bedroom; the gurgling and crunching sounds of the refrigerator turning itself on and off. There was no sign of life, I realized after several moments.

I slowly and listlessly went up darkened stairs to check the master bedroom. Bronwyn’s bed had been slept in and some of the clothes were missing from the wardrobe. It was odd; even after I’d brought her clothes in, she still insisted on wearing mine, claiming she liked mine better than hers. That thought brought a wry grin with it, and I shook my head.

I walked out to my tidy garage. The car was resting askew in it. I idly promised myself for the millionth time that if I ever saw her again I would teach her how to park. I put my hand on the smooth, silver bonnet—the engine was cold.

She’d taken off. On foot, so it would seem. If so, she had to be close by somewhere. If I wanted to, I could find her. If she didn’t want to be with me, I would not force her to stay by my side.

None of it really surprised me. In one evening all her illusions about me had been shattered.

Why did that hurt so much?

I made my way back into the dark house and wandered into the Spartan and fanatically neat living room. I sat down on the recliner, trying to calm my emotions. I liked Bronwyn, that was certain, and I found her hellishly attractive. Did it go any further for me? My heart shied away from the question. It didn’t matter one way or another for a number of reasons. First and most important, I was one hell of a lot older than her. I may have not looked very old, but I most certainly was not a child. Second, I was dead and she was alive. Alive. That brought such an unexpected stab of pain that I winced. She couldn’t love me, and I certainly couldn’t love her. It would be ruination for us both. I also could not understand why she said she loved me so much.

I wasn’t one of the cuddliest people I’d ever met.

I heard the front door open and close. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to calm my jangling nerves. Soft, almost hesitant, footsteps came toward me and stopped at the foot of my chair.

“Bronwyn.” My voice was soft and gentle, and I’m afraid it was the most heartfelt word I’d ever spoken. So much emotion betrayed me.

I could feel her move up beside me and touch my face with feather light fingers.

I opened my eyes and looked up at her, only to be ensnared in her pained green gaze. Her hand left my face as she moved closer to me, and my senses were teased by the smell of warm, feminine mortal as she drew me in close, and I buried my face in her chest. I slipped my arms around her and held her as closely as she held me. I took a deep breath, pulling the clean scent of her clothes, the dim fragrance of her perfume, and light sweat into my lungs.

It was the most wonderful thing I’d ever smelt.

“Crowley.” I pulled away and looked up at her, allowing all the sorrow I felt to show in my eyes as her gentle gaze reassured me. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Where were you?” Had she gotten the police?

“I keep telling you I love you, and I still mean it. Why won’t you believe me?” I gave no answer. She sighed and shook her head. “I went for a walk after I had my dinner. No cops. This is about you and me.” She sat on my lap so we were eye to eye. I slipped my arms around her waist.

“It really is, isn’t it?” I smiled slightly and took a deep breath.

“Why do you insist on saying you love me? You hardly know me.”

A small wry grin teased her red lips. “You have to keep asking that don’t you? One day you’ll get it. Start talking—you owe me an explanation.”

“That’s a very dissatisfying thing to say. I honestly don’t get it.” I gazed at her, but all she did was give me her enigmatic, maddening, sphinx-like smile.

She shifted in my lap so she was more comfortable and caressed my shoulder, and then pulled her hand back with obvious regret. “Stop changing the subject. We have a small matter of grievous bodily harm to talk about before we start spouting Shakespearean love sonnets at each other.”

“Okay, okay.” I matched her smile. It was best just to give her the bland truth. No matter what I said, what excuse I gave, I always had the same chance of her believing me. Either she would or she wouldn’t. “I didn’t kill him.” She looked at me as though I’d lost my mind, so I held up my hand before she could speak. “There is no easy way to say this and not sound stupid. I’m a vampire.”

Her eyes twinkled with mirth. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

I raised an eyebrow, giving her my best doubtful look. “Huh?

What do you mean? How on earth do you know?”

A gentle finger traced my eyebrow. “I’m not stupid. You’re always cold. Your skin is an almost unattractive shade of white. You only appear at night because you obviously can’t stand sunlight. For God’s sake, Ms Undead, half the time you bloody well forget to breathe. Last night just took me by surprise. I assume you are tactfully trying to tell me he’s a vampire as well?”