A Grave Hunger (9 page)

I bowed my head, thinking about what he was going through. If my parents would have survived the attack, been turned instead of killed, would I want them to go through this? I would be compelled to say that I wouldn't want them to endure this pain, this torture, but I also would want them to live.

I stood there in the silence of darkness, watching a sick man trapped between mortality and immortality. His skin changed complexions like a chameleon; his hollers became moans that got weaker by the minute. He rolled over to his back, and it sounded like he was whispering for a moment.

A trail of blood streamed across the side of his face from the corner of his left eye. I watched as his chest rose and sunk. His chest sucked in and pushed out air through laboured breaths.

"There has to be a way to make this work," Robert said.

I was staring at Robert's experiment when I said, "They shouldn't have to go through so much pain."

"Yes, well, that's an unfortunate side effect. I wouldn't want them to go through any pain at all, but there is no other way."

I continued to watch his experiment as it took the final breaths of life. His foot fell to the side, and his head turned to face in my direction. His eyes were open, and his feet were slightly parted. No one should have to die like that.

"Damn it!" Robert cursed. "I honestly thought it would work this time."

"What the hell is this?" A thunderous voice broke me from my thoughts.

I turned to see Finlay. He was standing in the stairwell with an incensed look on his face. Anger rolled off him in waves. I had never seen Finlay so furious. He was usually so laid back, so relaxed. It scared me.

"You're trying it again, trying to stop the transition. Do you remember what happened the last time?" he bellowed at Robert, eyes radiant with fury.

He turned his fury toward me. "Are you in on this, too?"

"I just arrived ten minutes ago," I replied stuttering.

He seemed satisfied with my reply, and he turned his attention back to Robert. "You promised ... you promised me after what happened you would never try this crap again." He didn't give Robert a chance to answer. He turned and stormed out of the basement, slamming the door on the way.

My mouth dropped open as I stared after Finlay in disbelief. What just happened? I sent Robert an incredulous look. He was staring at the ground, looking sheepish.

"What was that about? There's something you aren't telling me. Spill!" I demanded.

He nodded, eventually meeting my eyes. "I mentioned that the last time I tried this it didn't go so well. That was kinda an understatement."

"Go on," I encouraged.

He sighed. "The last time I tried this was years ago, when Finlay was still a kid. Finlay's dad, Paul, and I were out hunting. During the job I was knocked out and when I came to ... he had been turned."

"God, poor Finlay," I mumbled.

"I brought him back here, and locked him up in the cage." He pointed to the cage occupied by its new resident.

"Let me guess, the transition was too much for him and he didn't make it?"

He looked at the floor, frowning. A sadness washed over his face. His feet shuffled nervously on the dusty concrete floor.

"Not quite. Paul got out of the cage somehow and attacked me. Christ, I really thought I was a goner when he sunk his teeth into me. I couldn't hold him off. He was just too strong."

Robert was silent for a few moments while he collected his thoughts. "Finlay saved me." His voice was a strangled whisper.

"Saved you how?" I didn't need an answer. The heart-breaking look on Robert's face told me everything.

"He had to. It wasn't his father any more. He was a monster." I had never seen Robert look so dejected, and it broke my heart.

My thoughts turned to Finlay. No wonder he flipped out. What he saw today must have brought back terrible memories. The anguish of losing a parent was hard enough without having to be the person who had to kill them.

I watched Robert skulk out of the room, hoping that one day he would be able to forgive himself for what happened to Finlay's dad, and wondering if he could now give up on this futile experiment.

CHAPTER 17

I had left Robert to his frustration and had headed home. Back in my motel room, I stepped in the shower. I felt dirty, physically and emotionally. I longed to scrub away any traces of the last few hours. That poor man, having to go through all that pain for nothing. There were two possible outcomes when the venomous vampire blood burns through the system: a slow, painful death or to feed and turn into a monster. If it were me, I knew what I would want. Put me out of my misery. I hoped Robert would let this go. This experiment was cruel, inhumane and above all, a failure. I desperately tried to push the harrowing images from my mind. The hot water pounded off my skin, refreshing and cleansing me. I stood under the hot spray until my skin wrinkled and the water turned cold. Stepping out of the cubicle, I got dried and changed.

Time for my next job - finding Finlay. I had given him enough time to calm down, and now I had to see if he was ok. I didn't even try to imagine what he must be going through. Having to kill your own father after witnessing what I saw today, and at such a young age… It didn't bear thinking about.

He wasn't in his motel room, but I had a good idea where I could find him.

*****

The Cellar was a local bar in the area. Its appearance drew direct parallels to its namesake. It was a small, dark room located underneath a Chinese take away. Entrance was down a narrow stairwell, littered with rubbish and debris. The only natural light source was from a small rectangular window at the bottom on the stairs, with thick, rusted bars, giving it the look of a prison cell. The interior was no more welcoming. The room was dark and shadowy. Little money had been spent on illumining the dark space, or cleaning it for that matter. The air was thick with the smell of stale alcohol and sweat. All heads turned to look when I entered. Not receiving many women patrons, this place was definitely a man cave. With the emphasis heavily on 'cave.' I looked around the room. Finding Finlay, I wandered over to him and sat beside him at the bar.

"I'll have a whiskey," I said, calling over to the barman.

My eyes scanned the room. It didn't look any better since the last time I was here. I didn't understand why Finlay liked this place. Four booths lined one wall, each with mismatched fabric upholstery, which had seen better days. A brown carpet covered in cigarette burns and a plethora of unknown stains lined the floor. I wondered how long the carpet had been here. It was probably older than me.

The barman returned with my whiskey and sat it down in front of me. "On the house," he announced, sending me a wink.

"Thanks." I smiled sweetly. Finlay wasn't the only one who could flirt.

"Hmm, so that's why you wore that top. Free drinks?" Finlay acknowledged me for the first time since I’d arrived. He slurred his words as he spoke and I wondered how much he’d had to drink.

"What's wrong with this top?" I looked down at what I was wearing.  It was a red fitted top with a sweetheart neckline, and I wore black skinny jeans tucked inside my knee high boots.

He made a show of looking at my breasts. "Nothing at all. Very classy," he remarked sarcastically. I shrugged. He had a point; it was a bit low cut.

"Hey, be nice," I retorted, face portraying mock hurt.

He regarded me a moment. "You look beautiful as always, Scotland. Just don't like guys leering at you."

He leaned over and protectively pulled my top up an inch, so it covered more of my breasts.

I pushed his hand away. "All right, Dad. Next you will be telling me not to talk to strangers."

A smile played at his lips but his eyes remained serious.

"So..."

"I don't want to talk about it, Scotland," he interrupted curtly.

"Who says I want to talk? I'm here for the free drinks." I lifted my glass. "Cheers!"

I downed the drink in one long gulp, savouring the burning sensation as it glided down my throat and reached my stomach. The barman was back before I had a chance to set my glass down.

"Another?" he asked. This time the words were accompanied with a beaming smile. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a mop of dark hair and heavy, solemn brows that were offset by a pair of eyes the colour of rich chocolate. He was attractive. Not Finlay attractive, but then again I doubted that anyone could match Finlay in appearance.

"Please. Actually better just leave the bottle."

"Sure thing, sweetheart." He sent me another wink as he sat the bottle on the counter and left to serve another customer at the far end of the bar.

"Fuck’s sake!" Finlay cursed quietly with a frown.

"Ok, grumpy, calm yourself."

"Booth?" he asked, grabbing the bottle and glasses and stumbling to a booth in the darkest corner of the bar. I followed, sitting across from him. I watched him carefully. His fingers messed his hair and he stared at the wall behind me. There was a sorrow in his eyes hidden just under the surface. They had lost their usual playfulness, usual sparkle.

"So what happened to the vamp in the cage?" he asked, refusing to meet my eyes.

After a brief pause, I replied, "Didn't make it."

He shook his head. "What the hell was Robert thinking dragging a vamp back there? He could have been killed." He frowned, his voice becoming more heated with every word. "And putting that poor bastard through that. Should have put him out of his misery. I can't believe he would do that again. After what happened ... after he promised." I let him rant. It was good for him to get it out of his system. "I mean, my God. Did he really expect it to work? Once that vamp blood hits your system, you're a goner, one way or another."

I poured him another drink. He gulped it down greedily.

"Yeah, I don't know what Robert was thinking. Don't be too hard on him. I think he still feels bad about what happened... to your dad. I think this was him trying to make amends by helping someone else."

He sighed, shaking his head.

"Are you ok? Today must have been difficult for you."

"I'm fine," he whispered.

I felt powerless. He obviously wasn't fine. I wished he would let me in, let me help. I knew deep down it would never happen. Finlay was a typical macho man, and he kept everything bottled up. He usually masked his emotions through jokes and humour. This was lacking today and it worried me.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm fine, really." His voice was guarded and had a strained edge to it.

His phone suddenly vibrated on the table, and Robert's name flashed up on the screen. He swore under his breath and angrily slid the phone to the other side of the table.

"Are you ever going to talk to Robert? I bet he'll be feeling pretty bad about what happened."

Anger flashed in his emerald eyes, and when he spoke, his gravelly voice was cold. "What he did...."

I cut him off. "Come on, Finlay, you can't stay mad at him. Think of everything he has done for you. He practically raised you." A scolding tone touched my voice. "You know you are going to forgive him sooner or later. You may as well save everyone a lot of trouble and do it sooner."

His response was a throaty grumble, but his eyes softened.  I was getting through to him, so I continued.

"Yeah, what he did was misguided, but you need to forgive him. Robert is your family. He's like a father to you."

Finlay’s lips twitched, holding back a smile. The playfulness returned to his eyes.

"When did you become so wise, Scotland?"

"I've always been wise. Come on you must know I'm the brains of this operation." I flashed him a wink.

"Brains and beauty, that's some combination." His eyes regarded me, and they burned with an intensity I couldn't deduce. "So if Robert is like a father to me, what does that make you?"

"Hmm, maybe a protective little sister." I wasn't sure where he was going with this.

"No, you can't be my sister. I could never think about my sister the way I think about you." His expression quickly turned to chagrin as he realised what he had said.

An uncomfortable silence grew between us.

"Sorry, alcohol is like a truth serum to me. I share all my secrets when I’m drunk." He joked, trying to lighten the mood, but his eyes remained serious.

"Finlay, you were the one that said nothing could happen between us. That it was too dangerous with us working together."

"I did, didn't I? I clearly wasn't in my right mind that night." He reached across the table and took my hand, stroking it gently. I lost myself in the sensation for a moment.

His eyes never left mine. The affection burning in them had me mesmerised, and I answered without thinking.

"You know how I feel about you, Finlay..." My voice trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

"Do I?" he countered. The emeralds continued to bore into me.

"Finlay, I worry that if we have sex it could come between our friendship, and you mean too much to me for that to happen."

"I'm not talking about sex." His voice lowered to a whisper, and his intimate tone sent my heart racing.

My mouth dropped open and I stared at him mutely. It was at that moment his phone buzzed again, the sound reverberating through the wooden table and breaking the silence between us. He held my gaze, expecting a response, but when I didn't reply, an anguished look washed over his face. He nodded slowly and reached for the phone.

"Hi, Robert." He held eye contact as he spoke. "Yeah, I know you are..." I could hear Robert's voice buzzing on the other end of the line. "Don't worry about it ... hmmm... yeah, we're cool... Ok, see you tomorrow. Bye."

He hung up. I stared at him silently, still struggling to find words.

His eyes hardened, and he nodded slowly before speaking. "Ok, Scotland, I'll see you tomorrow."

With that, he gulped the last of his drink, rose from his chair and walked swiftly out of the bar.

*****

Even in the early afternoon light the city looked dark. Black clouds hung heavy in a grey sky, awaiting a downpour. I sat at a window table in the local Starbucks waiting on my order. I needed coffee to sharpen my senses after a restless sleep. I was so deep in thought I almost missed when my order was called. As I collected my coffee to go, events from last night circled my brain. My head pounded as I tried to make sense of what Finlay had said. God damn it! Why couldn't I be more eloquent under pressure? I cursed my inarticulateness. I had a sense of Deja vu. Hadn't I been through all this before with Finlay? Pushing open the doors, I felt the crisp air wash over me and I shivered. I pulled my coat closed to protect against the wind and cupped my fingers around the paper cup, savouring the heat that radiated through. I idled home, not relishing my next conversation.

Reaching Finlay's door, I knocked and took a deep breath to steady my erratic heartbeat. He answered the door looking dishevelled. He ran his fingers through his unwashed hair as he invited me inside.

"Looking a bit rough, Finlay. Hungover?" Even in the dull light I could see red blood vessels weaving through the whites of his eyes.

"Hmmm, I think I may have overdone it last night." His voice sounded low and gravelly.