Shadows of Fire (10 page)

She
forced a tremulous smile. “Yeah, fine.”

“It’s
me you’re talking to.”

“I’m
a little distracted that Glenn hasn’t gotten back. I’m not sure what’s keeping
him today. I’ve still got work I need to finish up in the wine cellar.”

His
face scrunched in doubt. “I’ve watched you dragging your ass around here all afternoon.
And
you called Katie in. It’s pretty bad when you call in
reinforcements.”

“I
guess the professor’s death is finally sinking in.” A lie. Hopefully one Chris
would accept. “I’m not sure who’s going to make the funeral arrangements and …”
Pain stabbed through her gut, bringing water to her eyes.

Chris
misunderstood her tears. “Hey, now, we’re all here for you.” He pulled her into
his arms, holding her tight. She knew there was more than friendship behind the
gesture, but she was too weak to fight him. “You won’t have to go through this
alone.”

Yes,
she did.
“Thanks, friend.” She pushed away from him, forcing another smile. “Katie’ll be
here in a couple. I’m just going to go downstairs and finish up the bookkeeping
down there.” She didn’t even bother to take off her apron before running for
the refuge of the cellar.

Unlocking
the door, she let the damp, cool air settle around her. Less than twenty-four
hours had passed since she’d been with the professor and already her body was
craving the one thing she couldn’t give it—sustenance.

She
ran into the back room. Alex took small, shallow breaths, working to keep her
stomach from heaving as she grabbed a bottle of blood wine and a small
measuring beaker from the shelf. Returning to her office, she fell heavily in
her chair, her knees shaky and weak. With trembling hands, she grabbed a half
dozen saltine crackers from her drawer, unwrapped them and crumbled them into
the beaker. She poured the blood wine over them, holding her breath as she
stirred the bloody mush with her finger.

Alex
had no idea if this would work, but without the professor to guide her, she was
running out of ideas—and time. Too far from one world and not close enough to
the other, she prayed this would at least ease the cramping. Pinching her nose,
she forced herself to swallow the concoction she’d made, twice gagging as it
slid down her throat.

Heavy
footfalls sounded on the stairs.

She
shoved the beaker into the drawer with the crackers, corked the wine, and
cleaned the crimson evidence from her lips. “I’m here in the office.”

“I
was just checking to see how you’re feeling.” Chris stood in the doorway,
disappointment reflected in his eyes. “I don’t know why you drink that stuff.”
He walked to her in slow, measured steps. “It goes against your nature.”
Dropping to his knees in front of her, he brushed his thumb over her lips, his
gaze taking an intimate journey over her face. “You’re losing weight and your
skin is so pale. Why do you fight the gift you’ve been given?”

She
hadn’t expected this conversation again. Chris viewed immortality with all the
innocence of a twenty-something hoping to hold onto his youth, not the tired outlook
of a woman frustrated that time no longer mattered. “Chris, I—”

He
pressed his finger to her lips. “No, I’m not asking you to change me this time.
Just drink from me.” Tipping his head to the side, Chris offered her his blood.
Though touched by his gesture, Alex’s revulsion at the throbbing artery in
front of her, made her gag.

Chris
flinched as if the sound had been a physical blow. “That repulsive?” He stood
and backed away from her. “I just thought … I mean—”

She
jumped up, reaching for him, ignoring the way the room spun in her vision.
“It’s not like that, Chris. It’s so complicated and—”

“Yeah,
don’t bother. I’m done asking.” He held his hands up and pushed at the air,
stopping her excuses. “I get it. You think I’m not good enough to join your
club. Whatever. I don’t need you.”

The
overly cheerful notes of Alex’s phone cut through his anger. “Chris, it’s not
like that.”

“Answer
the phone, Alex. No doubt it’s one of the chosen you’re
willing
to
help.” He stormed away. She was too tired to fight him anyway. When the
crackers and wine kicked in, she’d explain as best she could.

The
final strains of her ringtone sang. She didn’t look at the number when she
answered. “Hello, this is Alex.”

“Now.
I need you now.”

“Who
is this?”

“John
Sampson. Who the fuck do you think it is? I need to see you.” His words were
slurred with anger and something else that raised the hair on her arms. “The
professor’s death has caused all sorts of problems.”

“I
know.”

“What
are you going to do about it?”

“Why
would I—”

“Because
you created this situation and I need a solution!”

Alex’s
knees gave way and she dropped into her chair. She hadn’t actually created the
situation, but there was no doubt vampires like John would be turning to her for
help. She couldn’t save herself, she had no idea how she’d help them all. “I’m
working on it. I’ll be in touch when something—”

“Now!
I’m on my way to the tavern.”

“No.”
Panic gripped her throat, making it hard to breathe. She couldn’t meet him here
and possibly put people in danger. “Meet me at my apartment.”

He
laughed, a deep rumbling sound that echoed with evil. “No, I think I’ll just go
to Glenn’s. Perhaps it’s time to bring him in on this.”

“Glenn
already knows.”

“Right.”
John dragged out the word. “And when I die, I’m going to heaven.” She heard him
gasp in pain, his labored breathing accentuated by moans. “Thirty minutes,
Alexandra. I’ll wait in the woods,” he said through clenched teeth. “Don’t be
late or I’ll be forced to share our secret.” He clicked off the line before she
could respond.

She’d
only wanted her life back, not to carry the hopes of so many on her shoulders. How
many times would this scene play out before she found a way to save them all?
Alex pushed out of the chair, ready to lie to Chris about where she was headed,
ready to lie to Glenn about what she was doing and ready to lie to John about
how she could save him.

* * * *

Despite staying in bed for
several hours, sleep had been an elusive veil Hope hadn’t been able to capture.
Tossing restless through dreams filled with fires and warped images of Alex,
she’d finally given up and soaked in a tub of lavender-scented bubbles. Even
that, and a glass of Chardonnay, hadn’t quelled the uneasiness in her gut.

She’d only been in South Kenton a
couple of years, but had been a reporter since her first Barbie sat down with
Ken and grilled him on his relationship with Midge. Hope had started a newspaper
in middle school and uncovered the ham salad/spam fiasco in the cafeteria. Her
love of justice in journalism continued through high school with an exposé of
sports teams’ budgets. It hadn’t slowed down in college where she’d garnered a
Mark
of Excellenc
e award for standing up to the university in a series of
articles regarding hiring/firing practices. So, yeah, Hope knew a thing or two
about guilt and innocence. And there was something about what she’d uncovered that
was niggling at her psyche, and it had nothing to do with Alex being her best
friend.

Hope had had every intention of
setting it right when she’d shown up at the tavern to talk with Alex. Only,
she’d gotten there just in time to see Alex driving like a madwoman from the parking
lot, not even bothering to acknowledge Hope.

That had been nearly half an hour
ago.

Hope had jumped back in her car
and followed her at a reckless speed, careening over the back roads of South
Kenton as if the devil himself were chasing them. So why was she sitting in her
VW Bug in a shadowed corner of Glenn’s driveway, spying on Alex from afar?
Fear
.
Few people ran from the truth, but the guilty were known for fast escapes and
covering tracks. Hard to imagine it wasn’t secrets that had Alex hiding her
black Honda in the deep shadows beside the barn.

What the hell was her friend up
to?

Hope checked her watch again as
if it held the answer. She’d watched the sun slip below the horizon, dragging
the shadows of dusk across the landscape and still Alex hadn’t emerged from the
barn. Glenn’s truck wasn’t around. There were no lights on in the house. No one
else had shown up. The woman was probably doing nothing more than tending the
animals. Simple. Innocent. Routine.
Right.
And Glenn’s pigs were going
to take flight any moment.

There didn’t seem to be a better
time to clear up this mess than right now. Hope had no idea what she was going
to say to her friend as she threw her keys under her seat and dragged herself
out of the car. She’d been going over all the facts, trying to find the one
chink in the shield of guilt hovering over Alex. There’d been nothing.
And
didn’t that just suck?
Hope had never done a story where her heart was
wrapped around so many of the people involved. Being an impartial reporter was
nearly impossible when emotions were involved.

A muffled scream stopped her in
her tracks. It had come from behind the barn. Hope ran toward it without
thought to her own safety. A wedge of light from the open back door illuminated
the panic on Alex’s face as an assailant gripped her by the throat. Hope
grabbed a shovel stuck in a pile of dirt. Running at the two of them, she swung
it like a bat, aiming for the attacker’s back, praying she didn’t harm Alex.

The impact sang up Hope’s arms,
but did nothing more than anger the man. He let go of Alex and turned to Hope
with a menacing growl that brought every hair on the back of her neck to full
attention. High on drugs or alcohol, the man’s movements were jerky and
unbalanced. His eyes were unnaturally large in their sunken sockets. Washed in
the yellow haze of light spilling from the barn, the skin pulled taut over bony
features gave him an otherworldly appearance. The fear clogging Hope’s throat
and holding in the scream had nothing to do with her own safety and everything
to do with the man’s wild gaze assessing her as if she were his next meal.

“Hope, this is John. He’s not
going to hurt you.” Alex held her hand out to keep Hope from swinging the
shovel again. “He met me here for a little chat and there’s been a slight misunderstanding.”

He scented the air. “She’s
human.” The words slurred out around teeth hanging unnaturally long from the
man’s mouth. “She a friend of yours?”

Human? What kind of hallucination
was he having?

“She is.” All three of them moved
in some bizarre synchronized ballet that kept Alex positioned between Hope’s
shovel and the crazed lunatic. “But she’s leaving. She thought you were going
to hurt me. And since you didn’t mean to attack me, she’s just going to get
back in her car and meet me at the tavern. Right, Hope?”

“Only if you come with.” No way
in hell was she going to leave Alex alone to become the bi-line of tomorrow’s
obituary section.

“John and I aren’t quite
finished. He just needs a ride—”

“I don’t need a fucking ride!” He
inhaled as if trying to find his sanity among the chaos flashing across his
features. “I. Need. The. Stuff.” He laughed, a deep, barking sound that clawed
its way up Hope’s spine. “You’re feeling it too, Alex. I know you are. We both
need a fix. Just get me the stuff.”

“Alex, what the hell’s he talking
about?”

“Hope, seriously, just leave.
I’ve got this under control.”

“Guess she’s hanging out in the
dark, just like the rest of your friends. Obviously, she doesn’t know about you
and the professor, does she?” Saliva dripped from the man’s mouth and insanity
gleamed in his eyes. “Maybe we can do a little human education tonight.”

He jumped in the air so quickly,
Hope saw him only as a dark flash headed in her direction. She held up the
shovel, shielding herself from the impact that never came. Alex had mirrored
his movement and they landed together in the dirt, a tangle of arms, legs and
teeth. They moved much too fast for Hope to have any chance of swinging the
shovel.

She searched her yoga pants in
vain for a cell phone that she’d left in her car. Seconds dragged into excruciating
minutes. The sounds emanating from their struggle were more animalistic than
human, and Hope began to wonder what the hell Alex fought.

“No!” The man’s cry split the
darkness, reverberating through the barn. “I won’t let you do this.” The man
broke free and, in two great leaps, was swallowed in the shadows of the forest.

Alex turned to Hope, her hand
held in the air. “Don’t ask. I don’t have time to explain.”

The woman wasn’t even out of
breath.

“Go back to the tavern. Tell
Glenn.” Alex turned to the forest then back to her, sadness contorting her
features. Hope wasn’t sure which one of them Alex grieved for. “I have to find John.
Hurry. Get Glenn.” In an astounding feat of athleticism, her best friend bounded
into the night after the monster.

Hope stood dumbfounded, her confusion
making coherent thought impossible. Somewhere, she’d crossed the threshold into
some alternate reality—or nightmare. The shovel slipped out of her hands,
banging against a rock and shaking her from her stupor.