Vampire Secrets: Book 2 (Blood and Snow Season Two) (8 page)

Taking a deep breath, I ran over and checked the peephole.
It was Troy. “I’m so glad to see you,” I gushed as he came in.

Troy was immediately on edge. “What’s wrong?”

I told Troy about the guy, about the glowing red eyes, but I didn’t tell him that the guy had been Christopher. While I spoke Troy skulked from room to room like a six-foot dragon ninja. He flipped on lights as he went. I figured it was for my benefit since his vision was probably excellent in the dark.

He checked my room last. When he noticed the window was open, he quickly closed it and gave me a disappointed stare. “That’s just asking for trouble.
Keep it locked.”

A quick flash of Gatsby trying to get i
n came to mind, but I had a feeling if the cat really wanted to talk to me, he’d find a way. “Yeah, you’re right.” I sat on the edge of my bed and picked up a sparkly black pillow, hugging it to my chest. I was freaked.

Troy opened my closet doors
, peeked inside. “No one in here,” he went on.

I could’ve told him that.

“Hey, this is cute. Why haven’t you worn this?” He pulled out a white peasant top that came with a black and maroon checkered vest.

I shrugged.
“Haven’t had the chance yet.”

“Makes sense
.” He pushed that aside and tugged on the shirt hanging next to it. “Nice,” he said. It was red with black hearts on it.

It felt like he was stalling or… something.
“What are you doing?” I asked, feeling the tiniest bit frustrated. It was weird having him rifle through my clothes.

“Sorry, Jack.” He closed the closet and sat next to me on the bed. “You ready to go hunt down an Akuma?”

“Sure.” I had no idea what that entailed but I’d do just about anything to take my mind off things.

“Awesome, let’s go.” He took my hand and pulled me off the be
d and I tossed the pillow as I followed Troy out.

We locked up and took his truck for the short drive back to his house. When we got inside, he walked me through the kitchen and down the stairs to the basement.
I knew where he was taking me. To the Museum for the Supernatural.

Even though I knew, when we got downstairs and Troy flipped on the light, my breath still sucked in. It was nearly bare. Troy explained that there’d recently been some trouble and that Professor Pops was reassembling the magical creatures, but he didn’t give more detail than that.

We weren’t there for the purpose of studying the creatures anyway. Troy walked toward the back and unlocked the door to the weapons room.

“Pick your poison,” he said, flipping on the light. It buzzed and flickered the way old
lights did.

I picked up the weapon closest to me. It was a
brushed onyx bow. A quiver of arrows sat next to it, though the feathers on the ends weren’t feathers at all but made of thin strips of metal. I gently brushed the tips of my fingers along the stiff fibers. While still in Sharra, the bow had been a weapon I’d begun to practice using. But I wasn’t good enough at it to make it my weapon of choice.

“We’ve found only one way to kill the Akuma and that’s beheading. So keep that in mind.”

The idea of cutting off the head of a creature, even an evil one, filled me with dread. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” I said, placing the bow and the arrows back on the table.

Troy lifted a broadsword and pulled it from its scabbard. “What we’re doing is important, Jack. We need to find out who the Mistress is
, what she wants, and why the Akuma are being created. Plus, the Akuma are already dead. They are soulless.”

“You’re sure?” I asked, selecting a katana. The sword had a black handle wrapped with silver thread.

“Yes. Whatever soul they had before the Mistress got a hold of them is gone. We find the Akuma mainly in graveyards because they feed on corpses.

I shuddered. “But how do you know their souls are gone?”

Troy set down his sword. Then he took the one I held and placed it on the counter next to his. “I’m half dragon, Jack.”

“I know,” I said, wondering where he was going with the comment.

Troy took my hands. It surprised me and my heart raced. “One of my dragon abilities is that I can sense the soul in a creature.” He shook my hands playfully. “Like yours,” he began looking deep into my eyes. “I know you’re feeling displaced without your wings, your magic, and your vampire abilities. I can’t imagine losing so much so quickly. But the part of you that has remained the same is your soul. Still vibrant. Still warm and kind and giving.”

“Thanks, Troy.” I looked away.

“But you’re also sad and that makes me sad. So we need to figure out what’s going on.”

I nodded.

Peter, aka my dad, walked into the room. His jaw was clenched and I realized he was upset that Troy was so close to me, that he was holding my hands. “You two ready to go?”

I pulled my hands
from Troy’s and went to my dad. “Is Mom coming back?”

“Not tonight.” He took a sword
from the table covered in all sorts of weapons, removed it from its sheath and buckled the sheath over one shoulder and across his chest. Then he slid the blade into the sheath along his back. “Load up. Let’s go.”

Troy buckled a thick leather belt around his hips and slid the sword into place.

“Can’t you just become the dragon and fight that way?” I asked as I watched.

“If it comes to that, I will, but it’s better if I don’t.”
Troy picked up the katana I’d been holding. “You gonna use this?”

It was that or nothing.
“Yeah. I buckled the leather sheath across my shoulders and around my back, sheathing my sword the way my dad had. Peter walked out of the weapons room first. I followed and Troy brought up the rear, turning off the light and closing the door behind us. As I walked past the Museum for the Supernatural I tried to remember the creatures that’d been there. The Hunter, the dragon, the werewolf, and the pixilette. All gone. I wondered what’d happened, but figured now wasn’t the time to ask.

We climbed into Tr
oy’s truck. “What happens if we get pulled over by the cops?” I pushed his large sword out of the way and scooted into the seat next to him.

A smidge of the Troy I first met came back. He smirked. “We don’t.” “Good.”

“What brought that up?” Peter asked.

I told them about the police officers showing up at the house and asking me questions.

Peter growled. “This is getting much too dangerous,” he said.

Troy agreed.

I was sorry I’d brought it up. Since my dad didn’t look like my dad, but a teenaged guy from high school, it was easy to forget who he was.

Troy st
arted his truck and pulled around the circular driveway. When we passed my house I glanced over and couldn’t help an overwhelming feeling of sadness.

Since I met Laeddin and made that
first wish my life had changed. A lot. Peter and Troy seemed to comprehend my melancholy at the same time. They each patted one of my thighs, realized what’d happened, scowled at each other and then looked away. It was humorous but I couldn’t bring myself to laugh.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Harmony Grove Cemetery,” Troy said.

“I was thinking we’d hit St. Mary’s tonight. It’s been a few days since we were
last there,” Peter said.

“Nah, I’m feeling H
armony Grove, man.” Troy gave Peter a quick look. “I mean, sir.”

“Fine.” Peter sat back
.

Troy turned left onto Bridge Street. We drove a little and then he made a right on Friend Street and another onto to Harmony Grove Street.
The cemetery was gated, with a large brick column on either side of the entrance and a wrought iron gate that was closed and locked.

“Uh, how are we getting in?” I glanced from Troy to Peter.

“Easy.” Troy threw the truck in Park and shut it off before he climbed out and helped me jump down.

Troy and I walked around the front
. Peter was already at the entrance and climbing the iron gate. At the top, he grabbed the edges, pressed himself into a handstand and then flipped off onto the other side, landing on the asphalt with a light thud.

“Show off,” I said.

Peter smiled and for the briefest moment I saw my dad. “Come on. It’s easy. You can do it.”

“I don’t know.” I shoo
k my head worriedly.

Troy walked past me, climbed the gate and jumped over.

“Your turn,” he said.

I pulled down my shi
rt and started up. Before I’d given away my wings I could’ve just flown over. I never realized how much I used my wings until they were gone. By the time I reached the top my thighs were shaking. “I can’t do this,” I said.

“
Can. Can. Can,” Peter said.

Troy moved so that he was just below me. “Jump, Jack. I’ll catch you.”

“I don’t know,” I said, nervously.

“Definitely not. If anyone is going to catch her it’ll be me,” Peter said.

I could tell the guys were about to get into a fight when I heard a noise. It wasn’t a growl. More like a whinny-grunt. I followed the sound as a unicorn moved into view, stomping its hoof and shaking its mane.

“Dad?” Growing up, I’d met many unicorns. They’d been generous and sympathetic. My mom explained it had to do with their nature. A unicorn’s strongest magic was grounded in the power to heal. This unicorn
must have missed that last part because it seemed hell bent on destroying instead. I was frozen as I watched it lower its head, pointing its sharp horn directly at my dad’s back. There was a malicious gleam in the unicorn’s black eyes.

Peter and Troy turned toward
it. Keeping his eyes on the creature, Peter said, “Get my daughter off that fence. I’ll go after the Akuma.”

“Got it.”

The unicorn was Akuma? Great!

I watched my dad pull his sword from its scabbard, b
end his knees and assume a fighting stance. He held the sword like a baseball bat. I figured it must be a good head-chopping position.

The thought made me sick.

“Jack, I want you off that fence and in my arms. Now,” Troy ordered.

I
looked down into his handsome face, saw his strong chest, his muscled, outstretched arms and did the unthinkable. I jumped. Troy caught me easily and set me down.

“Thank you,” I said as he set me on my feet. I was
relieved and at the same time worried. Because in order to get out I was going to have to do that again.

“Troy, get over here,” Peter shouted.
His words were garbled between the sounds of clanging metal and huffing.

I searched the area
where my dad had been standing a moment before but couldn’t see him. There was very little light, only what was coming from the moon. I missed my vampire vision. “Da—” I started and then thought better of it. “Peter. Where are you?”

Troy took off like he knew exactly where Peter was. I fol
lowed the best I could, my katana at the ready. Gravestones were everywhere. I carefully stepped around them, crossed a paved road and continued through the neatly clipped lawn past more gravestones.

Troy was long gone.

I tripped over a gravestone and fell to my knees. “Dammit,” I cried, falling onto my butt. I wanted to help. I didn’t want to disappoint my dad and Troy. Fighting noises were coming from deeper in the cemetery. I needed to get up. I needed to help.

“If you drink my blood,
Jasmine, you’ll be able to do so much more than fight. You’ll be strong again.”

It was
Christopher. Again. The vampire was relentless. “Go away,” I said, working my way back to standing. Then picked up my sword and held it out in the direction I thought his voice had come from. Without my vampire abilities I wasn’t sure where he was.

H
e came forward. The moonlight allowed me to see his shadow but the only feature I could make out was his eyes. They were red. “I can’t. Even if I wanted to, it’s in me to protect you.”

“That makes no sense
!” And it didn’t. I’d barely said fifty words to him over the course of my entire life.

“Really?
Consider this.” He moved closer. “You were created from your mother’s blood. She drank from me. So my blood created you too.”

I started to walk away. “You’re nuts, just like my mom said.”

Christopher glared. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I know what you need. I can sense it.”

His words caused me to stop.

“Lies,” I said.

“I’m not lying.”
He moved like lightning and was unexpectedly standing in front of me—so close, too close. His scent was powerful, like apples baked in cinnamon and nutmeg.

I jumped back, nicking his neck with my blade. My eyes were mesmerized by steady tr
ickle of red. I licked my lips.