A Fall of Silver (14 page)

At this point,
discretion was definitely the better part of valor.

Unfortunately, she’d left the living room dark
. He stumbled toward the chair, bouncing off the wall twice before he found it. After each collision, he heard Quicksilver’s ghostly, hastily stifled laughter and then the jarring thuds of her hammer as she resumed her task. When the padded arm of the chair hit him in the groin, he suppressed a sharp gasp and swaddled himself in the sheet and blanket before sitting down with a grunt.

In the
ensuing silence, he heard a few muttered words before she pounded another nail into the plywood. Nothing was going to come through that window tonight. After a few minutes, even the banging stopped, and he heard her pad softly back to her bed.

He tried to settle back in the chair and almost knocked over the reading lamp
next to it. The top-heavy lamp wobbled and shook, hitting the wall and then his head, rattling its metal base. He grabbed it at the last minute, letting out a sigh as he steadied it. A few feet away, he heard a soft chortle and rustle as Quicksilver rolled over on her side. After pulling the covers around his shoulders, he forced himself to stop moving and relax without crashing into anything else in the darkened room.

Gradually,
Quicksilver’s breathing slowed, becoming soft and regular. She was so close he imagined he could feel the whisper of her warm breath feathering his cheek.

He rubbed
a bruise on his thigh he didn’t know he had and tried not to think. The angry glare of the head of the vampire who first cursed his life haunted him.

Who had killed her?
Why
? And why did they want him to know she was finally, irrevocably, dead?

Hours later,
he slept, his dreams dark and silent with the ominous feeling of something bad, very bad, standing behind him.

* * * *

Quicksilver felt trapped within the confines of her own, small apartment. She couldn’t move without being aware of exactly where Kethan was, resting just a few feet away. It only grew worse after she turned the lights off. All her senses focused on him as he softly padded to the bathroom.

And then the
sound of the window shattering and the bloody head rolling across her pink tile floor….

What was that about? Somehow, she knew it was connected to Kethan and his negotiations. Any vampire who knew her would also know that she wouldn’t be anything
except thrilled to see one of the undead suffer such a fate. The action meant nothing to her, but she’d seen Kethan’s expression and the shock of recognition in his widened eyes.

Had the
vampire been one of Sutton’s?

That answer
didn’t feel right. This had seemed more personal in a way she couldn’t understand.

She shifted uneasily. It had to be a threat
, but what was the message? Something that only Kethan knew, and he did know it, of that she was certain.

H
e’d lied to her when he claimed ignorance. So much for his holier-than-thou, I’ve-got-nothing-to-hide attitude. Again she rolled over, unable to sleep for fear of what awaited them outside the apartment in the shadows.

Thank goodness they had found Kathy in time.

Then she remembered the cat. It waited outside, hungry and vulnerable. She stayed in bed, rigid and listening to Kethan’s breathing until it slowed into a deep, regular rhythm. Then she got up and padded silently into the kitchen. In the cupboard next to the refrigerator, she had small, pop-top cans of tuna reserved for lunch. It had been several days since she’d seen the cat so she’d stopped buying cat food, fearing it was gone for good. She’d felt cold and deserted when she realized that. But tonight, it had showed up again, looking starved with rough, knotted fur and its ribs showing.

And he had to go and scare it away.

She grit her teeth, trying not to feel angry at him as she dumped the tuna onto a small plate. Perhaps its hunger would bring the cat back.

After q
uietly opening the window above the kitchen sink, she placed the plate on the sill. A burst of cool, dawn air surprised her, rifling through her hair. She waited a minute and then added a small saucer of water. A quick glance outside didn’t show any sign of the orange cat, but that didn’t mean much. The animal had an uncanny ability to hide whenever it sensed danger.

Smart animal.

Maybe someone was still out there, waiting for her; perhaps one of Sutton’s human servants, if he had any. Someone might be watching and waiting for her reaction to the challenge he—or someone—had thrown through her window.

Who had beheaded that vampire? What did it mean?

The challenge, or warning, meant nothing to her, except maybe aggravation at having to replace the window. To be brutally honest, she’d also experienced that small spurt of joy when another vampire vanished into a cloud of dust.

Could it be that someone else was protecting her and trying to let her know that? It was an odd way to show that, if it were true. The message had been delivered in the least reassuring manner possible.

So what was she going to do? She couldn’t ignore Sutton or Jason, and she wasn’t sure she could rely on Kethan.

She closed the window and stood at the sink, staring out into the
blue mist of early morning. One minute. Two. Three. Her feet ached with the cold seeping through the tiled floor. She rested the left foot over the right, trying to warm up her stiff toes.

Then a flicker of movement
as the cat leapt gracefully from the railing to the wide window sill. It glanced around and sniffed at the plate before crouching to wolf down the fish. A deep rumbling purr shook its thin body. When the animal finished, it lapped up some water with a rough, pink tongue, all the time watching her with gleaming eyes.

Suddenly, the cat
held its head stiffly, cocked at an angle. She held her breath. It stared at a point just past her shoulder as if it knew a stranger slept in the apartment.

Then i
t leapt away, disappearing into the mist.

Feeling discouraged, s
he released the air caught in her lungs and reached up to bring in the dishes. She’d hoped that tonight it would stay long enough to let her touch the soft fur over its neck.

She
rinsed the dishes off and placed them in the dishwasher with a week’s worth of other such dishes, wishing again that she felt settled enough to have a pet. A dog or the cat, if she could tame it, any living thing that would be happy to see her when she came home. She ached for a connection, for approval, for love.

Her glance was drawn to the window.
Would the cat ever allow her to do more than stare at it through the glass?

It was a w
ild thing, used to its freedom. Sometimes, she tried to believe it could sense her desire to care for it, to make a home for it where it could be warm and well-fed.

W
ith a sigh, she returned to her bed and tucked her chilled feet under the covers. She listened with relief to Kethan’s breathing. The slow, deep breaths were almost, but not quite, snoring. Instead of bothering her, the noise was oddly comforting, another human being at rest nearby. For once, she didn’t seem quite so alone.

Unfortunately after a few minutes
, his presence also made her tense. She drew her legs up and huddled in the center of her mattress. If she could just curl up in his lap instead and feel the heat from his body seep through her muscles, maybe she could relax. She craved the comfort of human warmth pressing against her under the covers.

His scent filled the room.

She wanted him.

T
he whole thing was impossible. She couldn’t begin to enumerate all the reasons why she needed to avoid him. Kethan was the worst type of human, a vampire lover. He associated with them. He bargained with them. He was a traitor.

How could she trust him?

Another spurt of uneasiness, bordering on guilt, burned inside her. He said they should give vampires another chance.

What kind of chance?

What chance had they given her? Kill or be killed.

Chills knotted
her muscles. What if he knew about Mexico? What would he think if he knew what she’d done? He’d think she was just another psychotic killer, as bad, or worse, than the vampires she destroyed. Vampires killed for food. She killed for…what? Revenge? Fear?

She pulled the covers tighter. Hadn’t
she saved lives through her actions? Saved others from enduring the pain she knew only too well?

Fear taunted her, reminding her of the brutal fury hiding
in the depths of her soul. Psychological terms were easy to apply, but the clinical labels didn’t help her deal with the rage inside, the horror at what she’d experienced. The fear that she’d been contaminated and was no better than Carol or Carlos.

S
he was just another crazed killer in a world full of violence and psychosis. The irony was that, even if she sought professional help, they’d probably institutionalize her and keep her sedated for the rest of her life. Everyone knew that vampires didn’t exist.

Her
gaze rested on Kethan’s slumped form.

H
er heart thumped, thundering in her ears. She wanted—no,
needed
—him and his acceptance. He had a way of looking at her as if he really saw her, saw who she was, and liked her. Respected her. Understood her.

At the very least, he was one of the few who knew the undead still walked the earth at night, seeking innocent blood.

She sighed and rolled over, deliberately slowing her breathing. The exercise didn’t help, and the headache that had played hide-and-seek with her all night returned with a vengeance. The pain twanged along her nerves, running down the back of her head and gripping her shoulders with sharp talons.

Twisting to ease the agony, she felt tears drip from the corners of her eyes
and roll over her cheeks. She squeezed them shut and rubbed her face in the pillow.

Allison
.

Why had she given him her
real name after all these years as plain Quicksilver? Allison’s ghost fluttered in the painful black void, desperate face upturned to seek the light.

Let me out
! Let me live.

No
.

That part o
f her was dead, locked away. Allison’s naive softness meant pain, vulnerability, danger.

The thrumming in her head increased. She bit the pillow, wanting to pound her head against the floor to release the pressure. She grabbed one of the packets of powdered aspirin she kept under the corner of her mattress and d
umped the astringent contents into her mouth. The chalky powder melted over her tongue, stinging her throat as she choked it down.

Then she forced herself to relax.

When the pain eased slightly, she controlled her breathing.

Everything is under control.
Pretending to free-fall through a distant cool sky, she welcomed the dizziness and imagined the sensation of wind rushing through her hair.

Everything is fine.

The discipline worked. Slowly, she fell asleep although peace eluded her.

The
nightmare started within minutes, ripping away her relaxed tranquility. She huddled into a tight ball and wrapped her arms around her legs, trying to become as small as possible, a mote of dust in a huge universe. Her head twisted on the rumpled pillow as she sought escape.

T
he nightmare expanded, pulling her down. Relentless.

She
cried in her sleep, tears pooling at the corners of her mouth, running down her neck. She cradled her hands as if the bones still throbbed and ached from their punishment. Allison cowered as the horror of the past enveloped her.

T
his time, before she found the weapons, before she bound them to her broken hands and icy-hot sprays of vampire blood drenched her in burning streams, she awoke. Her heart pounded in a deafening roar. Sweat saturated her sheet.

S
he stiffened, distantly aware of Kethan’s comforting presence. Although he wouldn’t be flattered by the comparison, she immediately thought of a massive guard dog, slumbering but still watchful, protecting her.

He breathed rhythmically in the
shadows. She listened and matched her breathing to his, her tension slowly ebbed away.

The past was
gone like the wisps of a torn spider web.

She had to forget and move on.
Part of her desperately wanted to trust him, longed to feel close to someone again.

She wanted to be normal.

Her hands still shook as she turned her back to him and pulled the blanket over her chin. She knew she was isolating herself and that her actions were unhealthy, bordering on the psychotic, but the thought of reaching out to a man, especially a man who associated with vampires, made her sick.

It would be
so easy for him to betray her, to make her a bargaining chip in his game with Sutton.