Exsanguinate (24 page)

B
y the time
I got back to Orlando, Harris had left to go hunt for Dakota’s geo-cache notebooks. That maniac Ludovic had both my sisters, and now my father had disappeared right under my nose. I clutched the note that had been left in my father’s apartment for me. It mimicked the word scramble Harris and I solved.

I would never forget those visions of my father’s caretaker dead on the floor drained of all her blood. Why did they have to kill her too? What was the point of all this insanity?

I am responsible for her death! I should’ve never let Daddy out of my sight!

Flat out exhausted, I waited for the time Ludovic said he was going to contact me at eight a.m. I checked the time, it was 7:45 a.m. I stumbled into my office to check my computer. Nothing. My phone chimed it had received a text message. Sure that it was Roxas, I swiped open the lock screen.

“Hope I didn’t wake you, my pet. I’m not ready for your next clue. But here is that message from your sister I promised you.” Bile clung inside my throat as I read Ludovic’s text.

There was an Mp3 attachment to the message. I wasn’t sure if I opened it that the message would contain a virus, but I couldn’t wait. My finger shook as it hovered over the attachment file.

I clicked it.

I watched as the file downloaded and opened up in a media player on my phone. Instantly I heard Sheridan’s screaming. Her pleading begging sobs for them to stop hurting her echoed out the speaker. I heard a thud and a clanging of metal and she grew quiet.

Instant tears rolled off my face. I collapsed on the couch. I hated this awful, sadistic man with every fiber of my being.

Why would he do this to us? I’m so sorry … I promise I will find you!

* * *

F
ed Ex was
due to deliver in a few hours and I needed to get some sleep. I couldn’t think straight any longer. Worried, furious, and even more distraught about what the delivery package would yield, my body was completely numb. I saw a notepad on the coffee table.

Beano and Stormy jumped on the couch and licked my face. It seemed when everything else in life was shite, my pets were always there for me. They loved me no matter how shitty a sister or daughter I was.

I spoke out load to the pups, “Where the heck is Roxas - Khaldon? I need to figure out what I’m gonna call him.”

I was beginning to feel like the freaky stalker chick from
Fatal Attraction
. Anxiety settled in the pit of my stomach worried he might be in my next list of clues and or disappearances.

Harris is right. I just needed to hang in there.

I puffed out a few breaths and petted the pups for a few minutes. I decided on a shower and to try and get a little bit of rest. The package would be here in a few hours, regardless if I slept or not. Hopefully Roxas and Harris would get back before it arrived.

Cranking the shower water all the way to hot, trying to scald off the day’s events, I languished in the steam. Finally, the woman in me gave way, and I decided to shave my legs only to discover there was no need. Guess that’s another thing vampires don’t need to do. I pulled up the teak bench and sat under the steamy mist and gave up. I tried in desperation to make sense of it all.

How in the hell did this happen? Why are we being targeted? My entire family is being controlled by this puppet master freak? What in the hell for if he doesn’t want any money?

With every inch on my skin exfoliated, I fell into bed. In a flash, Beano jumped on the bed and Stormy tucked herself under the covers. He circled around three times and planted himself into the small of my back - just as he had done since the day I brought him home. Now he was a sixty-five pound puppy asleep and snoring. I always felt safer when Beano slept beside me. Nothing bad could happen with my big protector in the bed with me. If he felt calm enough to sleep, then I knew it would be safe for awhile.

I vowed tomorrow to find where Dakota kept those records of the geo-caches. They had to be close.

Where is GC89? Where are you my sisters? I’ll find you, Daddy!

* * *

T
he pounding
on the front door and the incessant ringing of the doorbell slammed me out from the depths of sleep. My ceiling clock blinked at me – 11:11 a.m.

Oh shite – Fed Ex.

I grabbed an overnight shirt and a pair of boxers – my red hair flying wildly across my face as I stumbled toward the door with Beano on my heels. Barely able to focus, I gave Beano the hand command to not move unless I gave him a signal to attack. Tentatively, I opened the door, pulled my hair back behind my ears and saw the familiar blue and orange uniform. I saw a drop-dead gorgeous delivery guy who was so amazingly good-looking he had to be gay.

In his hands, he held a very small box. I didn’t even know they could deliver such a small box. I gave the guy a puzzled look. He mocked my expression with a look that said, ‘I have graced your presence with my six-pack-abs, but you don’t have the right plumbing, so never mind.’

He held the package out to me. Truthfully, I didn’t even want to touch it. I had no idea what could be in it. Would it be my next clue, or perhaps a bullet he had used to kill one of them? I just couldn’t bear thinking of what could be in such a small package. What was I expecting? Something big enough to hold her head?

“Sign here, lady,” Mr. Model Man said and handed me the electronic tablet.

I stared at the little white box. “Can you put it on the table please?”

He rolled his eyes at me. “Sure. You don’t have any mean dogs in here, do ya?”

Beano growled at him from behind my legs. Stormy pranced up and began to bark. Super-hot delivery guy dropped the box on the foyer table and ran out the front door. Stormy continued her barrage at the poor guy.

“Good boy! Keeping Momma safe, that’s your job isn’t it … yes, it is.” I scratched Beano behind the ears as we watched the guy run back to the elevator.

Beano’s nose twitched as he sauntered over to the package on the foyer table. This prompted my intuition to dive into my sense of smell. The odor of decomposed flesh curdled my stomach. It roiled to associate the rotten smell with my sister.

“I can do this, Beano. I can put on my big girl panties, and I can do this.” Holding the box to my face, I looked closer to see if I could find anything about it which would help clue me into its origins. I shook the box and something solid moved inside it. “Oh, Beano, I have a bad feeling about this.”

Pulling the sealed tab along the edge of the box, I prayed it didn’t have a live snake or some kind of spider in it. I just simply couldn’t handle it if that were the case. Big girl panties or not, I didn’t do critters with more than four legs.

Instead, what I did see dropped me to my knees in less than a heartbeat. Inside was a small box that an engagement ring would normally be in. Inside the box, resting on a cushion of black velvet was Dakota’s pinky toe. It still wore the Hello Kitty toe ring I had given her for her last birthday.

I had no words – only more tears as I recognized Dakota’s signature toenail polish.

Beano licked my salty face, consoling me. I reached out and hugged him to help endure the guilt over the damage I’d done to my sister.

I
awoke cradling
the black velvet jewelry box to my chest and the incessant ringing on the door bell again. I don’t know how long I lay on the cold tile. I got up and tried to straighten out my appearance, even though a quick glance in the mirrors proved my face looked like a pink Stay Puft marshmallow man.

Beano sniffed the air at the same time I noticed an odd tinge to its flavor. Floral and sweet.

“Okay, I’m coming – lay off the damn bell, will ya?” I shouted. “Beano sit. Stay.” Again, I gave him the hand command to not move unless I gave him a signal to attack.

Opening the door revealed a huge bouquet of birds-of-paradise and lilies in the arms of a not-so-cute delivery guy.

“Are you Cheyenne O’Cuinn?”

I nodded.

“These are for you.”

At least this guy has manners

He had a nice smile, and he actually greeted the dogs. “Hey there, good boy. Is it all right to pet him and give him a treat?”

Okay, so he’s a dog person – he’s got to be okay. I nodded at him.

He continued to pet Beano as he handed me the flowers. The vase was so huge it took both my hands to hold it. I propped it up on my hip in order to sign his delivery pad.

“Here ya go, ma’am. Can you sign here, please?”

I reached up to take the pen from his hand and with a lightning stroke he managed to clamp a silver handcuff onto my wrist. I was caught by surprise as my skin burned from the precious metal.

I looked down at Beano, and he was staggering, almost stumbling backwards with white foam falling from his mouth. My skin smoldered, and it stung like boiling ice.

“What the hell?” I cried out.

“Shut up, bitch!” Mr. Not so Nice Delivery Guy pushed me inside and shut the door.

I swung the glass vase into the side of his head. Shattered shards of glass crashed and fell all over the floor. Slipping in the water, he stumbled backwards grabbing at the silver handcuff for balance, pulling my arm down with him. He tried to secure my other wrist into the cuff as he sloshed around in the water and glass.

So over the games, the clues, the grief, the everything, I simply uncorked on this asshole. I swung him around, throwing him into the wall where my commissioned Steve Hanks painting hung. His head exploded the frame.

Beano, wobbling, was at my side and dove atop the guy. Stormy barked as if her little life depended on it. Beano bit and attacked the man’s face several times. Mr. Flower Delivery Guy punched Beano’s chest and my poor puppy went flying into the next room. I heard a yelp and then there was silence. His paws were bloodied from the broken glass. Stormy pattered around Beano as she licked his head.

I turned back to the jerk. “Oh no you didn’t, you mother fucker! Nobody hurts my dog and gets away with it!”

I grabbed a larger piece of glass from the broken shards as he stood. He stepped hard into me. As we crashed into one another, one of his long arms clipped me on the chin. Stars blasted behind my eyelids. His momentum sent him past me, giving me the opportunity to slash his face with the glass in my hand, gouging a deep gash in his cheek and over his ear. He screamed like a trapped insane asylum victim.

At this point I was so angry I didn’t care anymore. I grabbed the closest thing I could find to kill this guy and ripped it to shreds. Unfortunately, that was my grandmother’s rocking chair. I pulled out the heavy wooden dowel from the backing and attempted to beat the guy senseless with it. He sat there cradling his head after I pummeled him time and time again. I totally uncorked on the guy from the stress I was under.

What is this guy made of? He should be limp by now.

“And this is for my sister Sheridan. And this is for killing my dog!” I kicked at his ribs, relishing in the crunch of his bones as my toes crumbled with brute force against him.

He lay motionless and unresponsive. I stomped on his head one last time and said, “… and this is for destroying my Steve Hanks painting!”

Nothing. He didn’t move. “Asshole!”

I limped on broken toes to gather the velvet box I had dropped in the doorway, grabbed it, and hobbled to Beano. I kneeled in my own bloody mess from the shards of glass and grabbed Beano up into my chest. I needed to know if he was okay or if I needed to call a 911 Vet. He was breathing. I could hear his heart beating – rhythmic and steady. But he was knocked out cold. I rocked him back and forth, consoling both of us. So completely overcome with grief and despair, I sat there, getting angrier.

I am not going to take any more losses, dammit!

A deep gasp escaped me as a blow to my head sent my teeth rattling inside my mouth. I fell sideways as the delivery guy wound up his electronic tablet for another blow. I picked up the wooden dowel from the rocker and braced myself. The idiot ran into me. I let us fall backwards, allowing his momentum to carry him right onto me, skewering him like a Sunday BBQ shish kebob.

The wooden dowel tore through the back of his spine. I laughed as his breath wheezed in and out of him. “Oh, you are so in deep gris gris right now, boy.” My eyes grew wide as my despair turned into lunacy.

I turned the wooden dowel, twisting his insides as he howled out in pain. “How does that feel, you gobshite son-of-a-bitch?”

He screamed, and suddenly my inner vampire became famished.

“I’m gonna suck yer head like a mudbug, jerkwad. Nobody tries to cuff silver on me and hurts my dog!”

I sat down with my meat on a stick and thought about this scenario for a moment. I had my own human body on a stick. Caught between whether I should deep fry him or drink him with a straw, I wondered how I should enjoy my little delicacy. I’ve had deep fried Twinkies on a stick, a Snickers on a stick, and even a fried pickle on a stick, but this was my very first human on a stick. I wondered how I could sell human bodies on a stick at state fairs all across the country. Do vampires go to state fairs?

Who cares?

I shrugged, and I sank my teeth into his neck, drinking deep as he continued to struggle and scream for his life. His howling tickled my lips, and I sucked harder. The sweet, very different, tang from his blood flowed into my belly, and filled me with more adrenaline, more power, and something else, almost euphoric. My body awakened with every swig from his artery. He was all but shriveled up to a prune when Khaldon ran through my front door and gasped.

“Cheyenne! What happened here? Are you all right? What are you doing?”

With a mouth full of blood, I shrugged. “What?”

A little bit of blood dribbled down my chin. Momma always said, ‘ladies don’t talk with their mouths full.’ I swallowed and wiped my face with the back of my hand. “He tried to kill me! Can you get these damn things off of me? Bitch, this shit hurts.” I showed him the smoldering silver handcuffs etching deeper and deeper into my skin as they dangled off my wrist. My head felt heavy as I started to list sideways.

“Bloody hell, Chey!” Khaldon threw off his sunglasses and patted the delivery guy down for keys.

“Be careful. He might have a needle on him. He did something to Beano.”

Khaldon ripped off the guy’s front pants pockets in a single pull and found the key ring. Within seconds, the destructive metal clanged to the floor.

Throwing the depleted corpse off of me, Khaldon helped me up and hugged me tight. I was over crying. I didn’t want him to see how weak I was, how defeated I felt.

“Are you okay? You haven’t told me, are you all right?” His voice was kind, and calm, but I was still angry as to why he did not contact me or come back last night.

“I’m fine.” I let out a loud belch. It echoed off the tiles. “Well that wasn’t very ladylike now was it?” I said, dropping out of his grasp. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

“That’s not what I said, or implied, Cheyenne.”

My name, why did he have to say my name? God I loved how his English accent said, ‘Cheyenne.’

I walked away, picked up Beano, and limped over to the couch in the living room. Folded like a blanket in my arms, he gave no resistance – simply passed out and lifeless.

“Cheyenne, you’re bleeding.” Khaldon noticed my bloody footprints tracing my steps. “Let me get some towels and stuff. You don’t want glass to embed in your skin. Believe me, it itches like hell later on.” Khaldon walked through my house as if he knew exactly where everything was. It kind of freaked me out.

He returned with my red towels and a warm washcloth.

Good choice
.

He plucked out the few shards of glass embedded in my feet and some larger pieces from my arm and knees.

It felt good to be touched. To have someone caring for me. I absorbed Khaldon’s kindness and talked to Beano. I looked for Stormy. She was huddled under my mom’s quilt and shaking. I pulled her next to me while I tried to rouse Beano back to consciousness. My heart leapt when I finally heard him whimper a little.

I cooed to him as he licked my nose. “It’s okay, buddy. The bad guy is all gone. Mommy kilt him for you – oh, yes she did. Nobody messes with my Beano Puppy… nobody.” He licked my cheek again, laid his head in my hand and closed his eyes. Stormy licked at his nose and laid her little body beside him.

“Remind me never to bloody well piss Beano off in the future, all right? Those are some ferocious dog bites on that guy’s face.” Khaldon cleaned my wounds with the washcloth.

The movement tickled and I squirmed under his touch. My eyes drooped.

“What the hell happened in here? Who is that guy?” he asked again.

“Ludovic! Ludovic, that prick.” I pointed to the little black box lying on the floor next to the skewered flower guy. My voice sliced through the momentary calm as memories flashed into my head. “He cut off Dakota’s toe and sent it to me.” My voice tremored. “The gobshite bastard.”

“Then whoever this guy was, he tried to take me with him. I crashed the flower vase into his head after he cuffed me.” I felt my face flush. I was overcome with heat. “Now I have a hurt puppy, a broken painting, and a dead guy on my floor. And where the hell have you been?”

“Never mind that.” Khaldon looked at me. “What I want to know is who the bloody hell is sending you flowers?”