Breathless (26 page)

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Authors: Scott Prussing

Tags: #Interpersonal Relations, #Vampires

BOOK: Breathless
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“Time to go, Mom,” Leesa said cheerfully. “It’s nice and gloomy out, just the way you like it.”

Her mom smiled weakly and stood up from the bed, reaching out to Leesa with her hand. Leesa took it gently, touched by the gesture, and guided her out of the room.

Aunt Janet and Uncle Roger had insisted on accompanying them, so they had donned matching yellow rain slickers similar to the professor’s and were waiting by the front door. That L.L Bean guy, whoever he was, must be selling a million of those things, Leesa mused as she slipped into her dark purple raincoat. Aunt Janet gave everyone an umbrella, and they headed outside to pile into Uncle Roger’s Expedition. Aunt Janet sat beside him, while Leesa’s mom sat between Leesa and Professor Clerval in the back. When Uncle Roger switched on the ignition, Mick Jagger bellowed “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” from the car stereo. Maybe not, Leesa thought as Uncle Roger turned the volume down, but she hoped this time they’d get what they needed.

Uncle Roger drove cautiously on the rain-slicked roads, and it took almost half an hour to reach the eastern edge of Sleeping Giant Park, where they pulled onto a narrow dirt area at the edge of the road. Her mom had been silent the entire trip, gazing vacantly out the front window, but Leesa didn’t care. At least she was here.

There were no streetlights on this stretch of road, and it was impossible to see anything beyond the Expedition’s headlights other than the black outlines of the woods only a few feet away. Within moments of their arrival, a dark figure appeared at the edge of the trees and glided toward the car. Leesa instantly recognized Rave’s graceful gait.

He was wearing the same blue raincoat as the other night. He stopped beside Leesa’s window and smiled in at her. The rain streaming down his face didn’t seem to bother him at all. She lowered the window and he leaned his head close, resting his hands on the edge of the door.

Leesa introduced him to her mom, Professor Clerval and her aunt and uncle. Rave nodded and said hello to each of them. Leesa noticed his gaze lingered on her mom a bit longer than on the others, but his expression didn’t change.

“Glad to see you all made it,” he said through the window. He held out his right hand, palm up to the rain. “No need for anyone to get wet, at least not until I get back. I’ve already made sure the
grafhym
’s still in the area. Now that you’re here, I’ll go round him up.” He flashed a confident smile. “If he hasn’t wandered far, I’ll be back in half an hour, at most.”

Leesa rested her hand atop Rave’s. Even in the cold and wet, his skin was pleasantly warm. She almost expected to see steam rising from it, but was glad not to, since she didn’t know how she would have explained it to the others. “Don’t worry, Rave, we’ll wait as long as it takes.”

“Are you sure you don’t need any help, young man?” Professor Clerval asked.

Rave shook his head. “Thanks, but it would just slow me down.”

Leesa forced down a grin. If they only knew how fast Rave could move. He kissed her on the forehead before turning and vanishing into the trees.

“He’s very handsome,” Aunt Janet said. “And he likes you a lot, I can tell.”

Leesa smiled. She could still feel the warmth of his lips on her forehead. “I know. I like him a lot, too.”

“Are you sure he can do this by himself?” Uncle Roger asked. “It’s awfully dark out there.”

“He can do it,” Leesa assured him. “He’s had special training.”

“You mean like Special Forces or something?”

Leesa stifled another grin. “Uh, yeah, something like that.”

 

As Rave glided silently through the trees, he thought back to his brief look at Leesa’s mom. If you looked hard enough, you could see the resemblance between Leesa and her mom—the blond hair, the deep blue eyes, the thin nose—but in truth, the two really looked nothing alike. There was none of the joyful sparkle that filled Leesa’s eyes in her mom’s vacant stare, and no hint of happiness to curve her mouth into the bright smile he so loved on Leesa lips. More than ever, he hoped Professor Clerval was right, that the
grafhym
’s blood would pull Leesa’s mom from the prison in which she’d locked herself for so many years. He knew what it would mean to Leesa to have a normal mom, someone to hug and hold, to share with and confide in, to laugh and cry with. And anything that would make Leesa happy, he was going to do everything in his power to make happen.

Finding the
grafhym
would be no problem. Though his people didn’t hunt
grafhym
—there was no pleasure to be found in draining the essence of such a crippled creature—he knew killing it would be easy.
Grafhym
had only a fraction of the power of even the youngest and weakest vampire. But he was not here to kill the creature. The professor said the
grafhym
must be taken alive, its blood drawn while it still breathed. Capturing the creature would be a bit trickier—volkaane were trained to kill, not capture—but he was confident his strength and speed would be enough. Ironically, there were also his breath control exercises, which were about to prove useful for something besides kissing Leesa. He grinned in the darkness.

Ignoring the pelting rain, he leaped easily across a rushing creek swollen by the storm to a width of nearly ten feet. The darkness didn’t bother him—you could not hunt vampires without the keenest of night vision. His pace hardly slowed as he raced up a steep ridge on the opposite side of the stream, zigzagging between the trees. His speed actually helped him climb the slippery slope, for his feet did not stay in contact with the wet leaves and grass long enough to slip. At the top of the ridge he turned west, finally slowing when he reached a gigantic granite outcrop he had marked on his earlier trip here.

He moved more stealthily now, easing his way down the far side of the ridge. He wasn’t worried the
grafhym
would hear his approach—no creature moved as silently as a volkaane—but he was unsure how sharp the
grafhym’s
vision might be, or how keenly it might sense motion in the darkness. He hoped it was asleep in the rocky den where he’d sensed its presence earlier, but wherever it was, its fate was sealed. He would not return to Leesa without it.

He stopped suddenly, his instincts telling him the
grafhym
was near. He sensed the one-fang moving slowly through the blackness, presumably alert. A wet twig snapped off to Rave’s right. Scanning the darkness, he spotted a black form heading toward him, moving with an awkward gait. Every other step seemed a bit shorter than the other, but there was nothing in the
grafhym’s
manner to indicate it was aware of Rave’s presence. Rave melted behind a thick ash tree, a looped leather thong ready in his hands. The creature was making straight for him. All he had to do was wait.

When the
grafhym
came abreast of his hiding place, Rave flashed forward, dropping the loop over the creature’s head and tightening the thong around its body in one swift motion, pinning its arms. Rave’s fingers glowed blue as he gripped the
grafhym’s
head and pressed his mouth over the creature’s lips. He unleashed his inner fire in a tightly controlled manner, sending only enough into the one-fang to render it unconscious. There was no pleasure in the creature’s life breath—the pleasure would come from watching Leesa’s face when he presented her with the
grafhym
. He hoisted the inert body effortlessly over his shoulder and sped back through the forest.

 

Leesa sucked in a quick breath, her heart thumping in her chest as a jolt of adrenaline shot through her. One minute there was nothing outside her window but blackness, and then Rave had suddenly materialized out of nowhere with a limp form draped over his shoulder, his bronze face flashing eerily in the darkness, lit by the yellow glow of the Expedition’s emergency flashers. If she didn’t know how fast he could move, she would have sworn he’d teleported himself there. She took a deep breath to quiet her nerves and smiled up at him.

“Rave’s back,” she told the others.

Uncle Roger switched on the headlights, and enough light spilled back alongside the car to illuminate Rave. Everyone twisted around to get a look at the burden he bore on his shoulder—everyone but her mom, Leesa noticed. Her mom seemed completely uninterested in what was happening and didn’t so much as turn her head.

Professor Clerval was first out of the car, followed by Uncle Roger. Leesa had to wait for Rave to step back before she could open her door and climb out. The air was thick with the smell of wet leaves and dirt. Rave carried the
grafhym
into the bright glare of the headlights in front of the car and deposited the creature onto the muddy grass. Leesa followed close behind him.

The rain had slackened, floating down from the dark sky now in a misty drizzle. She moved forward for a better look at the creature that had caused her family so much misery. The
grafhym
would not have been attractive even if dry and conscious, but lying limp and soaking wet on the ground it was decidedly less so. Stringy dark brown hair was plastered across its pale cheeks in twisted strands that reminded her of seaweed washed up on a San Diego beach. Blotchy red rings circled its deep-set eyes, and its lips were thick and cracked. It wore a black cloak held tight against its thin body by Rave’s leather thong. She was tempted to reach down and pry its mouth open, to get a look at the single fang that had so dominated her life, but she resisted the urge.

Uncle Roger held his umbrella over Dr. Clerval as he bent over the
grafhym
. The professor carried a small black leather kit in his right hand. “It’s not dead, is it?” he asked, looking up at Rave.

“Just unconscious,” Rave replied. “I didn’t want any trouble on the way back here. It should remain that way for a while.”

Leesa watched Professor Clerval roll up the
grafhym’s
sleeve and loop a rubber tube around its arm, tightening it above the elbow. Ready now to take its blood, he unzipped his kit and pulled out a plastic syringe and a long needle, which he fitted onto the syringe. Feeling the creature’s forearm with his fingers, the professor located a vein and slid the needle into the pale skin. He pulled up slowly on the plunger, and the syringe began to fill with blood.

Professor Clerval looked up at Leesa. “Go get your mother.”

Leesa limped back to the rear door, but hesitated after grabbing the handle. Through the window, she could see her mom staring forward, seemingly unconcerned by what was going on in front of the car. She wondered what her mom was thinking, and whether she was doing the right thing by asking her to do this. What if something went wrong? What if the
grafhym’s
blood was poisonous? Did she have the right to ask her mom to risk this?

She inhaled deeply. She wasn’t doing this just for herself. This was her mom’s only chance at a normal life, her only chance to be able to go places, to do the things normal women did, to feel the warmth of the sun on her face. Leesa pulled the door open. She would have to trust the professor.

“C’mon, Mom. It’s time.” She took her mother’s hand and helped her out of the car, holding her umbrella so it shielded them both.

Aunt Janet patted her sister on the shoulder. “It’s going to be fine, Judy,” she said reassuringly.

Professor Clerval was standing now. Drops of water glistened in his white hair like tiny jewels. “Bring her here, Leesa, into the light.”

Her mom offered no resistance as Leesa led her by the elbow toward the professor. His eyes met Leesa’s and held them, as if asking one final time if she was sure she wanted to go ahead with this. She glanced at her mom and saw her eyes were fixated on the vial of blood in Professor Clerval’s hand. A thin smile seemed to flicker on her lips. Was it anticipation Leesa saw there? She made up her mind and nodded to the professor.

Dr. Clerval squeezed Leesa’s shoulder reassuringly, then rolled up Judy’s sleeve and wrapped the rubber tubing around her elbow. He swabbed her forearm with an alcohol wipe and gently pushed the needle into her skin. Leesa cringed as he slowly pushed the plunger, sending the
grafhym’s
blood streaming into her mother’s arm. There could be no turning back now.

After what seemed like an eternity, the professor pulled the needle out and pressed a small round adhesive bandage over the wound. Leesa rolled her mom’s sleeve back down. Her mom seemed to have barely noticed the experience.

“What should I do with the
grafhym
?” Rave asked. “Shall I destroy it?”

Leesa wasn’t sure how to answer and was glad to be saved by Professor Clerval from making any further decision.

“Let it live,” he said. “Who knows, we might have use of it again.”

Rave looked to Leesa, who nodded. He hoisted the
grafhym
over his shoulder. “I’ll take it back where I found it. Don’t wait for me.” He kissed her hair. “I’ll see you soon.”

Leesa watched Rave disappear into the trees. God, how she loved him.

“How will he get home?” Aunt Janet asked.

Leesa smiled, remembering her wonderful rides through the woods in Rave’s arms. “The same way he got here, I guess.”

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