Mistwalker (10 page)

“I can guarantee she’d have friends by the way she fights,” Vaughn said. “You don’t learn those moves by osmosis.”

“Maybe no friends.”
Juliun ran a tired hand over his face, and his fingers came away smudged. “I have been everywhere.” He needed to impress upon them the gravity of her speed. “She can travel as fast as thought. Lars will head for food, but he is so sick and hungry he could be anywhere.” He stalked the carpet in jerky strides. “Try the local dojos or martial arts centres in town. I will investigate those further afield.”

“You need a shower,” Lissanne pointed out.
“A change of clothes. Food.”

He nodded curtly. He didn’t plan to scare the mortals out of their bloody wits.

“From here we know she faded to the hospital to look for Tammy, then back to her apartment to collect things. Clothes and weapons. She will be back for her friend,” Alec said. “If that was the thought that made her disappear in the first place, then she will not leave her.”

“We have no time to wait,” Juliun said. “We are talking about a newly risen’s thirst. She has the mist.”

“How do you want us to handle her?” one of the guards asked.

“She won’t be easy to get back here.” Vaughn’s gaze swerved to Juliun, and Vaughn held up his hands with a laugh. “Hey, I’m just sayin’ all right? I’d know.”

Klaus chuckled. “Never thought I’d see a woman take you down with a right hook like that. Man, what a sight to see. Hard ass vamp getting slaughtered.”

“Says the guy whose face got shredded with a high kick.”
Vaughn’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward. “Last time I checked you were lying on a bed in the clinic, moaning on about demons and shit.”

Maddy laughed.

Klaus’ face grew ruddy. “Thought I could grab her.” He rubbed his jaw. “Won’t be trying that again in a hurry.”

Juliun growled and thumped his fist on the table. Everyone
jumped. “Argue about that later. You will need to beguile her back. Do not hurt or threaten in any way. Remember who she is, who she is to
me
, and give her anything she asks for. Tell her everything you know about the mist and no lies. She deserves to know. She has to trust you. Tell her you can give her blood and make sure you do. Explain she has to drain the blood from a vein. Feeding her will stop her from biting anyone, and do everything in your power to bring her back here.”

“If she’s in trouble?”
Sanchez leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed over his knee. “You want us to sort it out ourselves?”

“Do what you can first, then ring me,” Juliun said. “Do not keep that information to yourself. She can fade at any time. I can catch her if I know where she is headed.”

“Following a wisp of wind,” Klaus mused aloud, “who you wouldn’t want to piss off.”

A trace of hope flared in Juliun’s heart. Her courage, power and independence meant she would not be an easy kill. Vaughn still exhibited purpled bruises on his neck, but if Simone had not awoken courtesy of the antidote those bruises would not have been all of Vaughn’s injuries. Juliun refused to think about anyone hurting her no matter how well she could defend herself.

He wanted to plumb her unshakable inner strength. It felt like he’d hit the mother lode of treasure with her. He could not force her to stay at Ravenkeep, but he would do everything in his power to show her the advantages. “I need unfamiliar vampires in the most obvious places,” he said. “Unthreatening types.”

“Take Willem, Sue
and Mitchell,” Sanchez said. “They run my office. Willem can talk a millionaire out of his yacht without using an ounce of compulsion. Seen it myself. Sue’s smart and quiet. Mitchell’s the joker in the mix. She won’t run from any of them.”

The three vampires in question rose from their seats, at once ready for their orders. They wore plain office clothes of black and white and had youthful, pleasant faces with approachable eyes and smiles.

Juliun nodded. “Excellent. You may have and use whatever you need to get the job done. Take the cars from the garage. Put what you need on my tab, but I will warn you now, do not use glamour. She will know what you are doing and fight back.”

“And you don’t want that,” Klaus inserted.

Juliun turned his gaze to Sue. “Take the apartment in town.” Then to the vampire with the light-hearted grin on his face, “Take the hospital.” He studied the last one, Willem. Blond, blue eyed, and lean, he was Juliun’s complete antithesis. If Willem was as good as Sanchez boasted then Juliun needed him at the place he knew Simone would end up for information. Where all the newly risen ended up eventually. “You’ll be stationed at
The Python
. The owner knows my men are coming.”

Juliun spent the next ten minutes assigning different places for the rest of the group.

“Would you please keep a watch in the study?” he asked his mother, quietly. “Simone might reappear for food.”

“Of course, but recharge your batteries for a few minutes,” Lissanne said. Then softly, “I know your body is burning. Your father could never fade that much.”

Juliun frowned. “It depends upon the purpose. I have no intention of letting her disappear from my life. I am meeting again with the investigators. They have not been able to find anything about her before the age of ten. Something is not right.”

“That’s strange.” Lissanne nodded. “All right, do what you must then. I will take my place.”

“I need more time to find out her past, who she is,” he said as the group dispersed. “Where she could be hiding.”

Chapter
Twelve

New markings lined the cave walls; dark scribbles made with permanent marker and lipstick. The air shone with a lighter, more intense shade of sunlight. Was it real or an illusion witnessed through vampire eyes?

Vampire eyes.
Simone inhaled deeply and pondered that. From her perch, a few tunnels shot off into different directions. They would provide a great place to hide, and she would be safe enough in daylight if any tourists moseyed on by. Not that she thought they would. She just needed to hide and figure out this whole, ‘You’re now a vampire who fades into mist’ business before she got herself killed.

What were the rules about being a vampire? A vampire on the run from other vampires, that was. No crosses or garlic. A stake, holy water and sunlight would destroy her, but other than that she was immortal.

A blow to the head wouldn’t kill her.

With a thundering heart, she lifted her hand and stroked the hollowed out scar at the nape of her neck, near her ear. Tears dripped down her cheeks. The gouge ran deep and long beneath the fall of her hair.

The titanium plate protecting her brain would not be her downfall. She gasped, and years of memories washed over her. The doctor’s voice with his stern, sterile warning, “A blow to that area will be fatal.”

Months of rehabilitation, then shunted off to orphanages where she’d tried her best to befriend children her own age.
Children who wouldn’t hurt her. How bitter the discovery when she discovered there was no such thing. Three sets of foster parents passed through her life, then she moved out on her own at seventeen, within six months of her eighteenth birthday.

One of the guys she’d roomed with had been the younger brother of a professional fighter, and one night over a few drinks, she’d told him her life story. Why she needed to protect her head.

Tank Williams, karate champion extraordinaire, offered to teach her there and then. Sometimes people like that passed through her life, those who were willing to teach her what they knew. Once she learned all she could from Tank, she moved to another town, got a different job and learned more forms of self-defence. Ju jitsu, kick boxing, tae kwon do, street fighting…the list went on and on.

Her body changed, becoming leaner and stronger. No shadow of her former self remained, on the outside at least. She’d focused on using her legs for defence and attack as the further her opponents stayed away from her head, the longer she’d stay alive.

Her eyelids drooped, and then she swayed, pushing the bag behind her head. She leaned back, not minding at all that the pillow wasn’t soft.

Chapter
Thirteen

Carlo bounded up the front steps of his townhouse. He gripped the wrought iron banister, and right hand shaking, he withdrew the key and opened the door. The marble tiled foyer smelled of fresh blood, but that was nothing unusual. He threw his shirt and pants onto the living room floor, and then toed off his sneakers, all the while he kept moving to the bedroom—toward Lorena.

He made a quick trip to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He’d feasted on some less than desirable homeless people to cut the edge of his craving. Lorena didn’t like the smell of mint, so he chosen a pansy-assed cupcake flavoured toothpaste, finding comfort in the coldness filling his mouth. He spat the white foam in the sink and heard a moan emitting from the bedroom.

He stopped.

Lorena was usually an eerily silent killer. The toothbrush clattered on the porcelain sink. A sense of foreboding overcame him, and he raced to the bedroom.

Three humans, a stake.
Lorena. Dead.

Fire and tears burnt his nose and eyes. He stepped into the room, and the smell of blood, human and vampire, filled his nostrils. Closer, closer, he neared, and the room blurred, his eyes so wet.

Three humans lay at the foot of the bed. She must have kidnapped them, until....somehow they’d staked her.
Impossible.
She’d been in the midst of getting undressed. She was naked bar from her blouse. Her beautiful body laid out on the bed like that.

He’d called her. Not thirty minutes ago, he’d phoned with the news, now that he knew for certain it was true. They would have the
mist. She’d laughed over the phone. “Time to celebrate, darling. That’s the one.”

“Lorena,”
he whispered. Shouted, “Lorena! Get up! Lorena...”

He moved closer. She must still have some part of her living to not turn to dust. Maybe they’d missed her heart?
Please, let them have missed her heart.

“Baby, wake up. It’s me, Carlo. I’m home.”

Her auburn eyelashes flickered in the garish yellow light. Slowly, they swept from her pale cheeks, and her green eyes stared up at nothing. She opened her cherry-coloured lips, but no sound came out.

“Honey, stay with me. Don’t leave.”

A single tear dribbled down her cheek. “Trying...wait for you...celebrate.” Her voice came out as the merest thread of sound.

“I’m here, baby. Not going anywhere.”

“Blood,” she murmured.

He gently nestled his neck against her mouth and moved his body to one side to avoid the stake. The sharp sting of her fangs, and soft warm tongue affected him the way they always did. He panted.

She moaned. Deeper, she drank, tugging with her teeth. Still her arms didn’t move and she seemed to be glued to the blood soaked comforter.

“Harder, baby. Suck harder.”

Except she sighed. He glanced at her grey face and rose to his knees, then gently pressed his forehead on hers and their noses touched. “Don’t leave me.” He began to cry.

His hands shook, and he cupped her face.
Tears and blood. Tears and blood. Fire raced down his back, and he stared at the stake. The sharp pyramid of wood tore a ragged hole in her best blouse. He shook his head, chin to chest, and bawled.

She’d done everything like normal, brought home humans to mark their celebration.
Dressed up. He loved to watch her drink another. They would feed...no, gorge until blood spattered the walls.

Their clean up afterwards would be filled with laughter, a feeling of newness, so much happiness.

She no longer eagerly swallowed his blood. He growled and tore open the skin on his wrist with his teeth, then held the dribbling blood over her mouth, pushing the skin past her lips.

He had to do it now, had to try.
Before it was too late.

Cautiously, he lifted her with his left hand and fingered the blunt end of the stake, hoping that pulling it out wouldn’t kill her.
Dreading that.

He kissed her tenderly on her fragrant cheek,
then tugged, and she exploded into dust.

He collapsed onto the comforter and choked on the liquid scent of her blood. Dust and blood covered his face, filled his nose and gritted in his eyelashes. He pushed against the sodden quilt, layers upon layers of dust coating his forearms and hands. He clenched the covers, a scream emitting from the deepest, darkest place inside of him.

Chapter Fourteen

Simone pushed her hands over the tear in her mother’s neck, but the sticky fluid oozed up between her fingers. “Mum, please!” The harder Simone shook, the heavier her mother became.

Simone grabbed her mother’s arms and tried lifting her, but she was too weak. In a last ditch effort, she threw herself over her mother’s prone body. “Get away from her. Stay away!”