Nancy A Collins-Vamps 02 (9 page)

Then, as suddenly as it began, Jules broke off the kiss and, with a wink, darted back into the surging mass of bodies on the dance floor, leaving her with a hunger that had nothing to do with blood.

Cally walked out past the line waiting to get into the Viral Room, thinking about how Jules’s kiss made her feel. Part of her wanted to turn around and go back into the club in search of him, but if she did that, then she would be just like her mother—and that was something 86

Cally had sworn she’d never let happen.

Jules was clearly big trouble: a ladies’ man she couldn’t trust, not to mention the future husband of her biggest enemy. Lilith had already attempted to kill her once before, simply because she’d seen him kiss her
hand
.

Still, as clearly wrong for her as he was, Cally had to admit she enjoyed Jules’s company. He had a sense of humor and, in a lot of ways, came across as more fun to be with than Peter. Or at least that’s how it seemed.

Since she and Peter couldn’t really go anywhere or do anything together outside the walls of Rest Haven Cemetery, it was hard to tell if she was being fair.

Cally stopped and shook her head. What was she thinking? How could she compare the two? What she and Peter shared was far deeper than the mere physical attraction she felt for Jules. Peter was the only person, besides her mother and grandmother, who knew what she really was. It didn’t matter to Peter that she was half vampire or half human.

Even with diluted vampire blood in her veins, Cally knew she might live for centuries, which meant she had no choice but to watch the humans in her life grow old and die—including Peter.

Cally had loved her granny very much, and the thought of having to go through another profound loss such as that made her stomach knot up like a balloon animal. She wondered how humans could stand going 87

through their lives watching those they cared for wither and die.

She could solve the problem of losing Peter simply enough by turning him undead—assuming a hybrid like her could even make undead in the first place.

That way she could have him with her always, forever young and unchanging. But was that the right thing to do? What if whatever that attracted her to Peter, that made her love him, was no longer there after he became undead? What then?

Disturbed by the direction her thoughts were taking her, she suddenly found herself needing to hear Peter’s voice. Maybe if she talked to him, the doubts that were plaguing her would disappear. She stepped off the side-walk and into a nearby doorway and quickly dialed Peter’s number.

One ring. Two rings.
Come on, Peter, answer.
Three rings. She felt a tiny rush of relief as the other line picked up and a familiar voice filled her ear.

“Hi . . .”

“Peter! Sorry I’m calling so late—”

“I can’t take your call right now, but please leave a message.”

Cally frowned and snapped the cell phone shut.

Normally Peter always answered the phone, no matter what time she called. Before she could obsess any further over her boyfriend’s late-night whereabouts, a 88

shout of alarm broke the relative quiet.

Cally leaned out of the doorway where she was standing in time to see Melinda running in the direction of the river. Three figures pursued her—and they held crossbows at the ready.

As the strike team thundered across the decking of the recreation pier, the vampiress they were chasing whirled to face them, hissing in angry defiance. The trio of vampire hunters, composed of two men and a woman, automatically fanned out, crossbows cocked, effectively cutting their target off from the shore.

Their prey suddenly dropped onto all fours, transforming into a black panther in the amount of time it took the strike team’s leader to yell,
“Shoot her!”
Before any of the vampire hunters could fire their weapons, the panther leaped, sinking three-inch fangs into the team leader’s throat. He shrieked in terror as she bore him to the deck of the pier.

“Drummer!”
the female vampire hunter screamed, opening fire on the creature attacking her friend.

Arrows from her five-shot repeating crossbow pistol pierced the panther’s right flank and leg, causing her to yowl in agony and let go of the team leader’s throat.

Before any more shots could be fired, there was a loud roar and a were-tiger leaped over Drummer’s body, positioning itself between the vampire hunters 89

and their quarry. The great cat snarled at the startled humans, then turned its gold-and-black flank to them, protecting the wounded panther with its own body.

“Sam, call for backup!” the younger man yelled, opening fire on the snarling were-tiger.

“Eagle’s Nest, this is Strike Team Delta!” Samantha shouted into her wireless headset as she scrambled to reload her pistol crossbow. “Drummer’s down! Repeat, Drummer’s down! We need backup
immediately
!

Over!”

Arrows tore through the were-tiger’s rib cage and spleen. The big cat shrieked in agony, then collapsed heavily onto its side. The panther struggled to her feet and pressed a bloodied muzzle against the were-tiger’s head. Although the huge were-cat was bleeding and in pain, it closed its burning yellow eyes and began to purr. The panther then raised its head and stared into the eyes of the young vampire hunter. As he drew a bead on the great cat’s forehead, he suddenly found the pistol crossbow he was holding heavy, almost too heavy to hold up. He felt his grip on the handle of the weapon start to weaken. . . .

“Snap out of it!” Samantha yelled, pushing her dazed teammate aside. “She’s trying to mesmerize you!” Before Samantha could fire her weapon, there was a smell of ozone in the air and all the hair on her arms and the back of her neck stood erect. Without 90

warning, her entire body was in excruciating pain, as if a million red-hot needles had been suddenly thrust into every centimeter of her skin.

Peter Van Helsing stared in horror as his teammate collapsed onto the decking of the pier. He spun about, his finger on the trigger of his loaded crossbow, ready to send an arrow into the heart or brain of whatever was behind him. Then he froze. It was Cally, standing twenty feet away, a ball of pulsing electricity cupped in the palm of her hand.

The lovers stood staring into each other’s eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Upon hearing the sound of beating wings, they looked up to see the silhouette of a large gargoyle rapidly approaching from across the river. It was Talus, Christopher Van Helsing’s lethal pet, arriving in response to Samantha’s SOS. Cally and Peter exchanged a quick glance, and Peter sent the crossbow arrow sailing over his girlfriend’s shoulder.

Cally hurled her fistful of lightning down the length of the pier, where it struck an ornamental stainless steel waterwheel, causing it to light up like a Fourth of July pinwheel.

Peter blinked, momentarily blinded by the flash, only to find Cally had disappeared. He knelt beside Drummer, but when he couldn’t find a pulse, he moved on to Sam. She was alive—just barely. As he got back on his feet, he looked to where the vampiress and the 91

were-tiger had been. There was nothing there but a fistful of bloodied arrows and fur.

Lilith scowled as she impatiently swirled her AB neg with bourbon around in its glass. Where in the name of the Founders was everybody? She had arrived at the Belfry fifteen minutes ago, expecting to meet everyone in the Loft, but there was no sign of anyone. Just as she was about to call Jules on her cell and ream him out for standing her up, she spotted him coming up the stairs from the dance floor.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you!” she scolded as he sat down beside her. “Did you just get here?”

“Yes and no. I was here earlier, but I left to check out this new VIP bar with Sergei.”

“How was it?” she asked, mildly curious.

Jules shrugged. “I’m back, aren’t I?”

“See anyone there worth talking about?”

“Nope,” he lied. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Thirty minutes,” Lilith lied in return, pushing her lower lip out in a practiced pout. “I thought you’d forgotten me.”

“Sorry for the trauma,” Jules said with a crooked smile, taking her hand in his. “So, what were you doing earlier?”

“Shopping for a new gown for the Grand Ball. Mom 92

is cutting her vacation short so she can attend. Ugh.” While the first part was a lie, the second was true enough.

Jules raised an eyebrow. He was all too familiar with Lilith’s rocky relationship with her mother. “Irina’s in town? For how long?”

“The rest of the Dark Season, I’m afraid.” Lilith grimaced.

“Bummer,” Jules agreed. “So, have you talked to your dad about going with me to Vail for Long Night?”

“I thought your father said you couldn’t go to Vail unless you passed alchemy.”

“Don’t worry—it’s in the bag.” He laughed. “Exo’s been helping me.”

“By ‘helping’ do you mean he’s tutoring you or that he’s doing your homework for you?”

“He does it for me,” Jules admitted sheepishly.

“But I copy it down in my own handwriting once he’s finished.”

“Sweet!” Lilith exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “I guess there
is
an upside to having a spod like Exo hanging around all the time.”

“So, are you going to ask your dad about going on the ski trip with me?”

“I dunno . . .” she said hesitantly. “Dad usually wants the family together for Long Night. He’s kind of Old World that way.”

93

“If you ask him, he’ll let you go. He
never
tells you no, Lili, and you know it! After all, you’re the only daughter he’s got. How could he deny you anything?”

“Cally! Thank goodness you’re home! I was beginning to get worried.”

Cally groaned at the sight of her mother standing in the foyer of their apartment, anxiously wringing her hands. It had been a hard night for her, and the last thing she needed was more of her mother’s nuttiness.

“Mom, whatever you’ve got to say—I don’t want to hear it,” she said wearily, brushing past her. “I just want to get cleaned up and go to my room.”

“Cally—you
can’t
go to bed yet,” Sheila said, grabbing her daughter’s arm. “We have a visitor.”

“We have a
what
?” Cally turned to look at her mother in disbelief. In the two years since they’d moved into the condo, no one—outside of the occasional delivery boy—had ever set foot inside their home.

“He’s waiting for you in the living room,” Sheila said gently, pointing to a well-dressed stranger seated on the chaise lounge.

As Cally entered the room, the stranger got to his feet to greet her. He was tall and well built and appeared to be in his mid- to late thirties, with dark hair going salt-and-pepper at the temples, brooding good looks, and an expressive mouth. But what caught Cally’s attention 94

were his eyes: they were the same color as her own.

“Hello, Cally.” The stranger smiled, holding out his hand in greeting. “I’m glad to finally meet you. My name is Victor Todd. I’m your father.” 95

Ever since she was a little girl, Cally had fantasized about this very moment, playing the meeting with her father over and over in her head each dawn as she lay in bed, waiting for sleep to come. In her fan-tasy, her father was a handsome, rich, and powerful vampire lord, kind of a cross between James Bond and Dracula.

For once, reality seemed to be keeping pace with her dreams.

Of all the possible candidates, Cally had never dared hope her father would turn out to be Victor Todd, the man responsible for single-handedly bringing the vampire race into the space age. It was like a human child discovering her biological father was Bill Gates. But if Victor Todd was her father, then that meant . . .

96

“Lilith is my sister?” Cally gasped. She felt her knees buckle and her head swim. She sat down on the chaise lounge, a dazed look on her face.

“Technically, she’s your
demi
-sister,” Victor said gently.

There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, but the only one she could think of was the one that hurt the most: “Why did you wait so long to tell me who you are?”

“I’m sorry I haven’t come forward before now, Cally,” Victor said earnestly as he sat down beside her. “But the truth of the matter is that when I left your mother to go back to my wife, I had no clue Sheila was pregnant.

You
must
believe that. I did not even know you existed until after your grandmother died, when your mother finally contacted me.”

Sheila nodded in agreement. “What your father says is true, Cally. Your grandmother didn’t
want
Victor to know about you and did everything in her power to poison you against him. It’s not that your father didn’t care about you; he simply didn’t know.”

“But why didn’t you tell me after Granny died?”

“It has everything to do with my wife.” Victor sighed. “If Irina learned of your existence, she would not hesitate to kill you. As far as she’s concerned, you are a threat.”

“If you’re so worried about your wife finding out 97

about me, why did you send me to Bathory Academy?” Cally frowned. “Lilith and I have been crossing swords since the moment I arrived!”

“The reason I sent you to Bathory is simple: to protect you.”

“Protect me?” Cally asked. “From what?” Victor shifted uneasily. “About a month ago, I received a tip from a mole planted within the Institute that their leader, Christopher Van Helsing, has been searching for you. He plans to use you in some insane plan of his to rid the world of vampires forever.” Cally’s stomach flip-flopped on hearing the Van Helsing name. She averted her eyes, hoping her father would not notice her lack of surprise when he mentioned the Institute trying to track her down.

“Chris Van Helsing?” Sheila exclaimed, a startled look on her face. “Why is that nut job trying to find my little girl?”

“It’s a very long and involved story, I’m afraid,” Victor said. “The upshot is that, because Cally is the daughter of a vampire and the granddaughter of a witch, she may have inherited a rare vampire ability known as the Shadow Hand.”