Arctic Fire 2 (18 page)

Julian rounded the corner upstairs and walked down the hall toward the room at the end. Turning the knob, he shoved the door open with the toe of his boot. The potent scent of blood hit him like a punch to the face. Staying low, he moved swiftly into the room, searching for a threat that he still couldn’t see.

Rising to his full height, his eyes latched onto the macabre scene in the corner of the room. He assumed this had been a bedroom, but there were no beds within. Instead, there was only two dressers and the missing dining room table and chairs. Propped into the chairs surrounding the table, a family sat staring at the food before them.

Moving closer, Julian realized the mother and father had silverware clasped within their hands. The duct tape wrapped around them kept their fists closed around the forks and knives. The two young girls had their heads bent toward each other, but he couldn’t see their faces as their backs were to him. The young boy across the table had his head propped up and turned toward the doorway.

“One minute Barry was opening the front door, and the next thing I knew they were on us,”
he remembered Quinn once saying to him. His gaze slid back toward the door through which he’d entered, past the others gawking at the scene before him.

He realized that Barry had been watching the door before the vampires had knocked on it. He’d been waiting for them to arrive, had known they were coming.

Quinn probably wouldn’t have noticed such a detail at the time, but if her stalker had been watching them from outside, he would have seen Barry waiting. Disgust and unease twisted through him as he walked around the table to see the two girls. His eyes were drawn to the young girl wearing a golden locket that looked far too much like the one Quinn wore. He recalled that she hadn’t worn the locket until after Betsy died; it had been her cousin’s before then.

So that girl was supposed to be Betsy, he deduced, and the one next to her was supposed to be Quinn. He braced himself before he turned his gaze toward the other girl. Facial structure wise, she looked a little like Quinn with her high cheekbones and full lips, but her nose was larger and her cloudy eyes were blue. She had a jagged slice from her temple across to her right eyebrow; another one ran from her lip to under her chin. The well of blood from the gashes let him know they’d been inflicted while the girl was still alive.

Both of the girls appeared to be in their teens and looked as if they were talking in conspiring whispers as they leaned toward each other. Both of them were smiling. However, the smiles weren’t real. They’d been carved into their faces, Joker style, to reveal the cheek muscle. Goose bumps broke out on his arms; he couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from the one who was supposed to be Quinn.

The others crept closer as he studied the scene. “Is their hair dyed?” Melissa asked in a harsh whisper.

Julian glanced at the head before him. The boy’s body had been tied into the chair with a rope, as had all the others, but a nail had been driven through the back of his skull. A piece of rope ran from the nail to the chair in order to keep the head tilted back. Judging by the amount of blood it was another wound received while still alive.

Through all of the dark hair, he saw splotches of dye against the boy’s skull and strands of gold that hadn’t taken to the dye. He walked to the father and spotted the same thing amongst his hair. “It is,” he confirmed.

Melissa rubbed her hands over her arms. “Why does that make this somehow worse?”

Julian didn’t know the answer, but the exquisite attention to detail that monster had paid to this scene was something he understood. He’d once enjoyed taunting and torturing people too. Minus the children, this was something he would have done in the past in order to play with and torment someone.

Nothing drove a person madder than the loss of their loved ones in an atrocious way, and if he’d fixated on someone good and pure, he would do everything in his power to drive them mad before destroying them. He’d played the game often over the centuries.

This scene had been set up for Quinn, to unnerve her and upset her, but thankfully, she hadn’t been here for it. It had been set for him too. He may not know who this vampire was, but the man was aware of who
he
was, and the vamp was letting him know that and reminding him of his past with this display. Julian’s nails dug into his palms; they tore through his flesh to spill his blood.

He’d never felt sorry or guilty about his past; he couldn’t change it, but for the first time, he wished he’d been someone better, someone good. He’d helped to bring this level of maliciousness and lunacy against them by the deeds he’d once committed. If this prick knew half of what Julian had done over the centuries and planned to use it to taunt him, then there were a lot more fun times ahead.

What the asshole didn’t know was he’d picked the wrong vampire to screw with this time. He may have heard some of the things Julian had done over the years, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. This vampire would see the rest of that iceberg before Julian was done with him.

“Why would he put them in a bedroom and not in the dining room?” Melissa inquired.

“To build the suspense,” Julian replied.

“The creepy beds in the dining room,” Lou said.

“Exactly.”

“Are they going to turn?” Lou asked nervously as he walked around to inspect the girls. “That’s awful.” His skin turned a pale shade of green as his hand went to his mouth, but he managed to keep himself from vomiting.

“They won’t turn,” Julian replied. “Judging by the smell, they’ve been here for at least a day.”

“How did he know we would find them?” Chris asked as he walked around the table. “Wow, he turned them into the Joker. This guy is warped in a way I’ve never known before.”

“If you’d known me a hundred years ago, you wouldn’t say that,” Julian replied. “Or ten years ago, or if you’d known what I really planned to do with Cassie.” Their heads turned slowly toward him. He detected the increased beats of their hearts and the heightened smell of sweat on their bodies. “This is a message to me too. He knows who I am, and he’s not afraid, but he should be. He should be
very
fucking afraid.”

Melissa gulped. Beside him, Lou took a small step away.

“You did something like this before?” Chris inquired.

“Minus the children, yes, I’ve done something exactly like this, and worse.”

“How could it be any worse?” Melissa whispered.

Julian met and held her frightened gaze. “It can always get worse, if your mind is twisted enough and you have no care for anything else.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room as they shifted nervously around him. Julian pulled his phone from his pocket and checked to make sure Quinn was still at the bar. Luther cleared his throat before speaking. “Do you think you could figure out his next move?”

“If it was me, and I still wasn’t ready for Quinn, I’d go for one of you next, or someone else close to her.”

“Crap.” Chris’s head fell into his hand. “And all the while he’ll be growing an army of vamps.”

“He may have pawns, but he’ll be the one calling the shots,” Julian said. “We have to get back to town,
now
.”

“What about the bodies?” Lou inquired.

“Leave them,” Julian replied briskly. “You’ve touched nothing and I took care of the cameras. We have to go.”

“But who were they?” Lou demanded.

“The police will figure that out when they’re discovered, or we’ll discover it ourselves if we hear of a missing family from town. There is nothing we can do about it now.”

He went to walk around the table, but froze when he spotted something clasped within the faux Quinn’s hand. Frowning, he grabbed hold of her cold hand and pried open her fingers.

“What are you doing?” Melissa gasped while Lou groaned loudly.

Julian tugged the piece of paper free and opened it. His blood ran cold when he read the words scrawled on it.

Quinn finished wiping the bar off and tossed her rag into the laundry bag at her feet. It had been a good night tip-wise, but she couldn’t wait to go home and sleep. This limbo of not knowing who or what was going to come after her next had made her twitchy and she hated it.

“All set?” Clint asked as he spun the keys around his index finger.

“All set,” she replied as she untied the strings of her apron and tossed it into the laundry bag. C.J. would pick it up in the morning and take it over to the laundromat to be cleaned. She turned off the bar lights as she moved toward the others standing by the door. Clint opened the door for them. They all hurried down the stairs and into the brisk night.

Clint locked the door behind them just as a set of headlights illuminated the road. Quinn shielded her sensitive eyes against the set of brights coming at them far faster than they should be. She took a step back as the truck skidded into the parking lot sideways. At first, she thought it was Julian and the others returning early, but then she realized the truck was red, instead of black.

“Is that Jeb?” Clint asked.

“It is,” she confirmed.

Jeb jumped from the pickup and started across the lot toward them. His normal cowboy hat wasn’t in place. His blond curls hung in tangled disarray around his face as he limped toward them. Blood smeared the right side of his face, and his hand kept hold of his right thigh as he dragged his foot behind him on the ground.

“Jeb! My God, what happened?” Hawtie demanded as she and Clint rushed toward him.

Quinn’s eyes shot around the deserted parking lot and the night beyond. Nothing moved out there, but the hair on her nape rose. “Someone attacked me!” Jeb cried. “I was heading back north when I came on a broken-down car. I pulled over to see if the guy needed help. He jumped me, beat me, and stole my wallet. When I woke he was gone.”

“Here, Quinn.” Clint held the keys out to her. “Open the door. We’ll get him inside and call the police.”

She snatched the keys from Clint’s hand before climbing the stairs. Unlocking the door, she flung it open and stepped aside for the others to enter. She shut and locked the door behind them. Hawtie settled Jeb onto one of the chairs at the bar. He winced and grabbed his thigh, his face twisting in pain as he rubbed at it.

“I’m so sorry, Jeb,” Quinn said.

“You know the old saying, ‘No good deed goes unpunished,’” he replied.

Something about those words made her adrenaline kick into hyper-drive; she spun back toward the window to keep watch. She half-expected to see a horde of vampires lining up across the street, but nothing stirred.

She tried to rid herself of the sense of impending doom as she looked at the others. Clint lifted the phone from the cradle and punched in numbers. He’d just put it to his ear when the first gunshot rang out. Quinn jumped, and a startled cry tore from her. A bullet couldn’t kill her, but she almost threw herself to the floor out of reflex.

Her eyes shot around the room as the coppery scent of blood filled the air. A strangled cry escaped her when she spotted the red seeping across the front of Hawtie’s body-hugging white shirt. Hawtie’s red, full mouth parted as she gawked at the bloodstain growing across her chest. Her eyes flickered toward Jeb before they rolled up in her head and she slumped to the side.

“Chelsea!” Clint bellowed and leapt across the bar at her.

Breaking free of her paralysis, Quinn lurched toward Hawtie. Her arms wrapped around her friend, catching her before she could hit the floor.

What happened? I don’t understand!

She fell to the ground with Hawtie. Blood seeped through Quinn’s fingers, pooling beneath her. Memories of holding Julian like this and feeling his blood assailed her as she struggled to comprehend what had happened. Her head fell back when she realized who had fired the shot. She stared in dismay at Jeb’s hazel eyes—so unseeing, so unaware of what he’d done.

“Chelsea!” Clint fell to the ground on the other side of her. “No! Oh no, no, no,” he groaned as he grabbed hold of her chin and turned her head toward him. Tears rolled freely down his face to fall on Hawtie’s cheek. “Don’t you leave me!”

Quinn didn’t know if she wanted to scream in rage or cry as she held her friend in her lap. She had saved Julian. Perhaps she could save Hawtie too, without killing Jeb. Hawtie was still alive, and she was human. She wouldn’t need the amount of life force Julian had required. She had to do something soon. With every slowing beat of Hawtie’s heart, she pumped more blood onto the floor around them.

Quinn lurched for Jeb, attempting to grab him so she could yank him from the stool as he turned the gun toward his own temple. Hawtie’s body in her lap caused her to miss his leg. “No!” she shrieked.

Beneath her knees, she felt a strange swelling within the earth. The jolt of electricity Dani unleashed shot Jeb straight out of his chair and onto his ass. Knocked from his hand, the gun clattered onto the ground and rattled as it spun across the floor. Quinn wrapped her arms protectively around Hawtie in case it went off.

Dani leapt at Jeb, grabbing hold of his legs when he began to crawl across the floor toward his gun. Quinn shifted Hawtie onto Clint’s lap and jumped to her feet as Jeb’s hand encircled the gun. He spun around and aimed the weapon directly at Dani’s head.

She threw herself to the floor and screamed as the bullet sliced across her face, tearing away flesh and a piece of her ear before smashing into Quinn’s shoulder. The force of the bullet knocked Quinn off her feet. A grunt escaped her when she crashed onto the floor. She heard a crack as one of her ribs gave way, but she couldn’t be sure over the agony of the bullet searing into her arm.

Another gunshot caused her to flinch. She rolled to the side, determined to get to Jeb before he could inflict any more damage, but when she rose, she realized she was too late. There was nothing left of Jeb to stop. Tears burned her eyes at the sight of his bloody and mutilated body, but she had no time to grieve the loss. She had another friend who needed her now.

Falling beside Hawtie once more, she trembled as she rested her hands on Hawtie’s chest. The only life she had to feed into Hawtie was her own. It would have to be enough. Lifting her good arm to her mouth, she bit deep into her wrist and pressed it against Hawtie’s mouth.

“What are you doing?” Clint demanded.

“Keeping her alive, I hope.”

She pressed the blood to Hawtie’s mouth as Dani knelt beside her with unused rags from behind the bar. Dani pressed the towels against the bullet wound to staunch the blood flowing from Hawtie’s chest.

“Use me to heal her,” Clint said to her.

“I killed Zach. I won’t take that chance with you,” Quinn murmured.

“You were going to use Jeb, don’t deny it.”

“That was before I was injured too, and now I’m
hungry
in more ways than you can imagine.”

Clint’s eyes were unwavering as they held hers. “I’d rather be dead than live without her.”

“I won’t chose one of your lives over the other, and she already has my blood in her. That will at least help her heal faster and keep her alive longer. Now, let me do what I have to do.”

Tears glistened in his eyes as he hovered anxiously by her side. She forced herself to tune him out as she focused on the pulse of life she felt emanating from Hawtie, calling to her. Quinn removed her wrist from Hawtie’s mouth; she couldn’t risk changing her if this didn’t work.

Her hands shook when she placed them over Hawtie’s wound. Focusing her attention on her friend, she let the flow of her life entwine with Hawtie’s. The octopus tentacles she always imagined her power being like latched onto Hawtie, but instead of pulling the life from her, Quinn pushed her own life into her friend.

Her body shook as the life flowed outward; the skin on her hand wrinkled and shriveled before her eyes. The bones in the backs of her hands stood out as her skin became so white she could have given Casper a run for his money. Her forearms thinned to the point where the bones were evident, but she kept her hands pressed against Hawtie’s chest. She’d give every drop of life she could if it meant saving her friend.

Her knees had begun to dig uncomfortably into the ground when Hawtie gasped and her eyes flew open. The warm brown of her eyes latched onto Quinn. Her hands grasped hold of Quinn’s; her grip was stronger than she’d had expected it to be, or perhaps she’d just become that weak.

“Quinn?” Hawtie asked.

Quinn fell back, wincing as her tailbone made contact with the floor. She sat as her body shook and jerked on the floor. She tried desperately to get control of herself, but she felt like a fish out of water right then. Hunger burned through her body, searing her veins as her fangs slid free. But more than blood, she needed to
devour,
to feel the life of another flowing into her.

She threw her hands up to stop Clint from grabbing her arms. “No, don’t. I don’t know if I can control myself right now. Dani, we have to get out of here.” In the distance, she heard the first wails of a siren echoing across the desert. “I need help,” she murmured and held her arm up.

Dani rushed to her side and grasped hold of her. Quinn winced as the motion caused her bones to grate together.
Don’t feed. Don’t feed.
She told herself as she felt her power seeking out Dani. “Let go of me,” she said to Dani who released her instantly.

Julian’s blood and some coyote’s blood and I’ll be as good as new. I’ll get some life from Julian; I won’t kill him.

As she thought it, something bashed into the front door. Wood splinters flew inward and the door crashed into the wall with enough force to shake the building. Quinn’s head shot up as the monster who had been destroying their town, and who had helped murder her family, strode into the bar.

A smile curved his mouth when his eyes latched onto her. “Not your best look, but just the way I wanted you.”

Quinn’s mouth fell open. Dani sucked in a loud breath beside her, and Clint lurched toward one of the stools. It clattered to the floor as he jerked on it and dragged it toward him. Taking his forearm, he smashed it on one of the legs. The leg broke off, and he snatched it up to use it as a stake before he positioned the stool protectively in front of Hawtie.

The monster’s turquoise eyes, the only thing remotely attractive about him, slid toward Hawtie, and he released a snort of laughter. “That won’t stop me, old man.” His eyes came back to Quinn. “But your woman did drain her some.”

Horror pooled through Quinn as she realized they’d been set up. The minute he’d sent Jeb in here, he’d intended for all of this to happen, or at least most of it. She was drained; she didn’t know how Dani’s power worked, but she knew a large blast often left Hunters and vampires depleted.

His eyes fixated on Quinn. The hideously awful hair curling out from the mole at the corner of his left eye actually seemed to wave or to be laughing at her. Quinn fought back a tremor as the man approached. He was as rail thin as she recalled and taller than Julian, perhaps six foot three or four. His arched cheekbones, flaring nostrils, and thin lips gave him a rat-like appearance.

Behind him, a dozen more vampires entered the bar. They fanned out around him to fill the room. “The police are coming,” Quinn said.

“And we’ll either slaughter them when they do, or you’ll leave willingly,” he replied.

“I’ll never go anywhere with you.”

His eyes raked over her disdainfully. “You don’t have a choice. Either everyone in here dies, plus whoever else is coming, or you walk out the door with us now.”

Quinn tried to feel the pulse of something within her, but most of her life force had flowed into Hawtie. If she could get her hands on someone…

Her eyes latched onto him, and she licked her lips as she felt the wash of power emanating from him. Beside her, she felt the pulse in the earth she’d experienced before Dani had released her blast of electricity.

“Bitch,” Rat-Face sneered, his eyes shooting to Dani.

He lunged forward. His hand wrapped around Dani’s throat as he lifted her off the ground. Quinn felt the electricity that shot out of Dani and toward him, but he’d interrupted her before she could get a big buildup going, and he’d been prepared for her jolt. His lip curled to reveal his fangs as his fingers dug into Dani’s throat.

Before he could tear it out, Quinn lunged forward and grabbed hold of his arm. A low moan escaped her as life flowed back into her veins. Rat-Face threw Dani over the bar and into the shelves lining the backside of it. Bottles and shelves toppled over and broke. Alcohol poured over Dani as she slumped to the floor.

The man spun on Quinn. She tried to duck out of the way of the fist he swung toward her, but even with his life filling her, she was sluggish and awkward. His punch smashed into her temple, staggering her sideways. White stars burst before her eyes, and her grasp on his arm loosened enough that he was able to jerk it away from her.

Her hand flew to one of the stakes strapped at her side, and her fangs lengthened as a hiss escaped her. The wail of the sirens grew closer. Clint jumped to his feet and charged at another vampire coming toward her. He used the broken stool leg like a stake, but missed his intended target’s heart when the man ducked. He plunged the stake into the vamp’s shoulder instead.