Hunted (18 page)

Once she was out of bed, Lanie grabbed her robe from off the hook on the bathroom door, slid it on, and slipped out of the room, quietly moving down the hallway and toward the staircase.  The house was silent around her, which she’d never minded before, but now the stillness gave her an eerie feeling, causing her stomach to tighten and apprehension to tingle up her spine.  She was uneasy in her own home, her sanctuary, the place where she had always felt the most comfortable, the most comforted.  And it wasn’t fair.

It almost seemed a sacrilege to be in such a familiar place, surrounded by such familiar things, and yet feel as if some sinister and foreign presence was taking over.

Lanie recognized that sinister presence for what it was.  Fear.  But, that only made it worse for her.  To be afraid in her own home, to be afraid of what might be lurking
outside
her own home, was a violation.  Yet, there was nothing she could do about it.  She was aware of what was out there now, prowling through the night, and there was no going back.

Nothing would ever be the same for her.  Not ever again.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs and began passing through the foyer, Lanie was suddenly swept with the urge to peek out the oval window in the front door, but she hesitated.  What if she peeked out and…saw someone?  And not just any someone.  What if she saw…
him
?  What if she saw
him
outside in the darkness?  What would she do?  What if he decided to try and get inside?  Someone…like him…probably wouldn’t let doors and windows and locks stop him.

Deciding it was probably best if she didn’t look outside, she went on into the kitchen, forgoing the glass of water and opting for a glass of sweet tea instead.  She felt like she could use the hit of sugar.  And then she decided to heat herself up a slice of Aunt Gretchen’s lasagna because it dawned on her that he stomach felt rather empty.  It then occurred to her that there hadn’t been a Sunday dinner prepared in the Bancroft household that day.  This was the first time in memory that Sam Bancroft hadn’t sat down at his table with his family to enjoy a meal and catch up on the week.  That knowledge left Lanie feeling rattled.

Plate and glass in hand, Lanie headed back through the house and toward the living room, where she intended on watching infomercials until she either fell asleep or the sun came up, whichever happened first.

However, on her way back through the foyer, she was again swept with that urge to look out the window, just to make sure no one was out there in the darkness.  Pausing halfway across the entryway, Lanie stood, debating heavily with herself.  If she actually saw…
him
outside her house, it would accomplish nothing but giving her a heart attack. 

For a long minute, Lanie waffled back and forth, but in the end, she gave in and moved toward the front door.  If he was out there, then she wanted to know.  Better to see him coming so that she could prepare herself.  If she was going to die, she wanted to face her death head on.  She wasn’t fond of surprises.

At the door, Lanie hesitated, her heart thudding hard against her chest and her breath coming in loud, uneven spurts.  Once she pulled the sheer curtain aside and looked out, she wouldn’t be able to un-see anything that might be out there.  But, she did it anyway.  Carefully setting her glass on the edge of her plate, she lifted a trembling hand to the sheer and slowly pushed it aside, her stomach knotted and dread coursing over her, praying that she find the night still and empty. 

Carefully, Lanie peeked out through the window, stalling a moment while her eyes adjusted to the gloom.  When she could finally see enough to make out the dim shapes of the world outside, a painful start jolted through her and she heard herself let out a sharp gasp. 

There, sitting on her front steps, leaning back against the porch railing, was a figure wearing a long leather coat and high combat boots, his wheat colored hair looking like burnished gold in the soft glow of the street lamp just down the way.

Lanie stood frozen for a second, her heart in her throat and panic cresting inside her, unsure exactly what she should do.  Should she call her dad, which is what she normally would do if she saw a strange man sitting on her porch in the middle of the night? 

But, no.  She would not be calling her dad. That was what she would have done under ordinary circumstances.  But, ordinary circumstances these were not.  She needed to speak to the young man sitting on her porch, not have him arrested.

Pulling in a fortifying breath, Lanie stepped away from the window and reached for the deadbolt, hoping she wasn’t taking her life in her hands, and really hoping that Sheriff Bancroft
never
found out what she was doing.  Balancing the plate and glass, she unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open only to find the young man standing right in front of her, his tall, lean frame blocking her exit.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, his green eyes sparking and his expression suspicious.

Lanie, little shards of fear slicing through her belly, fought hard not to slam the door shut and run for her phone.  “I-I…I was coming out to talk to you.  You-you told me to come home and wait to hear from you,” she answered in a wavering voice.

The young man’s suspicious expression softened, but he did not step away from the door.  “Right.  And you’re hearing me tell you to close the door and go back to bed.  You shouldn’t be out here.”

“Why?  Is…is…
he
out here?” she whispered, the trepidation in her voice making her sound like a scared little girl.

“Probably,” came the answer.  “Now, go back to bed.  I’ll be out here watching the house.”

Sure.  She’d go back to bed and get a restful night’s sleep, knowing that there was a ruggedly handsome man sitting on her porch—with his crossbow, which she now noticed was clutched in his hand—guarding her house from the…monster that had nearly carried her off into the night.

“I’m not going back to bed,” she told him, trying to inject a bit of firmness into her tone.  “I-I want to know what’s going on here.”

She was actually intelligent enough to have pretty much figured it out on her own, but she wanted to hear someone else say it out loud, just so she didn’t feel quite so…crazy.

“I think it’s a better idea for you to go back to bed,” the young man told her, his voice stern. 

Anger flared up inside Lanie and her spine stiffened.  Her father was not at home and as far as she knew, she hadn’t asked for a surrogate.  “I’ll go back to bed when I’m good and ready!” she shot at the young man.  “You told me to come home and wait to hear from you, and now I’m waiting to
hear
from you!  So, talk!”

Her little outburst seemed to take the man aback, but not enough to move him away from the door.  “Don’t you remember what almost happened to you tonight?  You should be inside where it’s safe.”

Yes.  In fact, she did remember.  Which is why she would not be going back inside until the young man had spoken the word that she wanted to hear.  “You can stop telling me what to do.  It’s a waste of breath,” she said hoitily, taking the glass of sweet tea from the edge of the plate and fairly elbowing her way past the young man.

Really!  A wild eyed, murderous…
creature
had tried to make her the next body to be found in the park and this man just wanted her to go back to bed as if nothing at all had happened! 

Once she was past the hulking wall of leather and stubble trying to keep her inside the house, Lanie padded across the front porch and over to the steps, plopping down there and waiting for the young man to join her.  Perhaps being outside in the night wasn’t the brightest of ideas, especially knowing what might be skulking about in the shadows, but she did have a young man armed with a crossbow there with her, so she’d risk it.

Only a moment later, she heard heavy footsteps on the porch and the young man appeared, taking a seat beside her, his crossbow resting on his knee.  “Are you always so stubborn?” he asked, turning his sparkling green gaze to her, his brows lowered in consternation.

“Maybe,” she shrugged, deciding to hold out the plate and glass to the young man.  “Are you hungry?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” he said stiffly.  “And you really should go back inside.”

“Why?  Do you really think…he…might come here and…” she left the thought open ended, turning a quick glance out over the yard and the street beyond, but found only blackness.

“I’m not sure, but that’s what I’m prepared for,” the young man stated honestly.  “He’s capable of anything, so giving him the benefit of the doubt will get you killed.”

Lanie looked back to the young man, her breath coming just a little faster now.  “Who…who is he?” she asked hoarsely, though that wasn’t the question that was at the forefront of her mind.

“His name is Frederik,” the young man answered.  “At least, I think that’s his real name.”

Lanie swallowed hard, preparing to force the next words out.  “And he-he…he’s…is he…
what
is…he?” she fumbled. 

She wanted to hear it said out loud because she could
never
be the one who said it first.

The young man’s ruggedly handsome features suddenly became unreadable.  “He’s a vampire,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Something akin to a feeling of scorn ran over Lanie at hearing that word said out loud.  How
ridiculous
it sounded!  Yet, she’d seen it with her own eyes, so that was the word she’d wanted to hear.  The ashen skin, the eyes that were gleaming like two polished rubies, the long, razor-sharp teeth that were made for tearing through layers of flesh, she knew there was no other word.  She knew.  She’d seen…

“You should go back into the house.  You’ll be safe in there,” the young man told her firmly.

“Why will I be safe in there?” she asked him, her mind still grappling to accept that word.  “He…he
really
can’t…can’t…you know?”

Accepting that word was hard enough, but accepting the notion that a wild eyed, blood thirsty monster couldn’t get into her house simply because he hadn’t been politely
asked
to come in, was even harder.

“He really can’t,” came the response.  “Not unless he’s invited.  Which, I would not do if I were you.”

That was not something he needed to worry about.  She would not be inviting any snarling, frothing, red eyed…vampires…who knocked on her door into her house any time soon.

“Do…do you really think he might…try again?” she croaked out, that prospect sending terror skittering through her.  She wouldn’t ask how Frederik would know where she lived because finding her clearly wasn’t that hard.  The young man sitting next to her had managed it with apparent ease.

“I don’t know,” the young man replied.  “He was obviously following you, waiting for an opportunity to make a try for you.  And since I stopped him, who knows what he might do.  I’m hoping he’ll just move on.”

If he moved on, then did that mean he would find someone else to…leave in a heap in the park?

“So…what am I supposed to do?” she questioned.  “I-I…can’t hide in the house.”  She had a life, she had responsibilities at school.  Hiding behind a locked door was not an option.

“I know you can’t,” he agreed with her. 

Silence suddenly fell between them and only then did Lanie remember she was still holding the plate and glass out to him.  “Here.  Take this,” she said unevenly, giving the glass a little wiggle.

“No, thanks,” he denied, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Aren’t you hungry?” she asked him.

“I’m fine,” he said to her.  “You need to go back to bed.”

Again, anger sparked inside Lanie.  “Stop telling me to go back to bed!” she snipped at him.  “If I could sleep, I would
be
in bed!  Now take this and eat it because I’m not going to be able to sleep at all if I know you’re sitting out here starving!”

Her slightly saucy tone caused the man’s brows to lift upwards in surprise and his eyes to widen.  He regarded her for a space before finally laying his crossbow down between them and reaching out to take the plate and glass from her.  “Thank you.  Now, get back in the house.”