The Vampiric Housewife (33 page)

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Authors: Kristen Marquette

BOOK: The Vampiric Housewife
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“He hunted vampire slayers. That’s the only reason we left him alive,” a petite curly-haired blonde with thick lips told him. “He was pretty badass.”

    
“We’d heard rumors about him,” a tall, dangly male said. “He had taken on whole armies of hunters by himself, all armed with wooden stakes and silver bullets. Slaughtered them all and never even swallowed a drop of their blood. It wasn’t bloodlust, it was vengeance.”

    
“I’m sure it’s an exaggeration,” the full figured, curvy vampire said leaning seductively in a doorway. Rhett knew how she lured her prey in. “But I had a go with him. He’s a skilled fighter, knocked me on my ass more than once. He could have finished me. But he didn’t. He was pretty single faceted.”

    
“Why would he seek out vampire hunters? Seems like he’d have a death wish,” Rhett said. Secretly he was impressed. Taking down a vampire hunter was no small feat. More than ever he wanted to test his own skill against this vampire.

    
“To avenge the death of his lady love, another vampire killed by a secret society of Catholic slayers. He wiped the organization into extinction,” the blonde said.

    
“But his vengeance wasn’t quenched. He continued to hunt the ones that hunted us. He had tracked a group back to our territory. Did us a favor in the long run,” the male said.

    
“You haven’t seen him since?” He wondered how a vampire went from hunting slayers to hunting human trash. It seemed almost like a fall from grace.

    
“Nope. Hadn’t heard any more rumors about him either. Figured he finally got himself staked.”

    
“Do you happen to know his name?” Rhett asked. He was on the cusp of tracking this vampire down and along with him the rest of the Murray family. He could feel it in his blood.

    
“Ethan Shanahan,” the curvy one said.

    
That name hadn’t meant anything to Rhett. But when he called Dr. Venjamin with an update, the name meant the world to the doctor.

    
“Ethan Shanahan. Yes, I’m acquainted with the vampire. We met a very long time ago. I would very much like to become reacquainted with him.” The description of the scars should have given his identity away. Charlie now had similar scars on his face and body. Venjamin didn’t know why he hadn’t put two and two together. “He is a very strong and dangerous vampire.” Venjamin had learned that lesson the hard way. He had never seen anything like Shanahan. Such single-mindedness, such swelling rage and vengeance all tempered with the self-discipline of a yogi master. Strength, speed, and skill superior to any other vampire.
 
He was a terrible and beautiful creature. “If you come across his trail, don’t approach him. Call for back up. You will need it. Good work, Rhett.” Dr. Venjamin hung up the phone.

    
He hadn’t thought about Ethan in a very long time. He had a tendency not to dwell on his failure which was probably why he hadn’t recognized Shanahan’s description. He remembered being fascinated by the strength and resolve of the vampire. He had a bloodlust, but it wasn’t based on hunger. Ethan had been a legend in himself among vampires. Oh, how Venjamin had wanted him for his town. But it wasn’t meant to be. Ethan was the first and only vampire to escape from his clutches. Ethan had his revenge against the vampire slayers that murdered his maker and lover. Now it looked like he was after revenge on Venjamin. It would be sad to put that vampire down, but he would once and for all.

 

Chapter Thirty-five

 

Refuge

 

    
Soon as Valerie’s head hit the pillow, she was out cold. Inside the beach house she felt safe for the first time since leaving her home. She did not have to worry that every little sound was a precursor to Rhett and Drew bursting through the door. Her children were safe. Exhausted from everything she had been told tonight and everything she had seen in the last week, she slept hard and deep and without dreams.

    
When she finally woke to the sounds of the waves gently lapping onto the sand, she was disoriented. Lying in a four poster bed, she was cocooned in the softest sheets that had ever touched her skin. Dark oil paintings of water and natives hung on the soothing pale cerulean walls. Bookshelves housed multitudes of old books. There was a small sitting area with a wicker love seat and chair, a vase of red hibiscuses on the table. The room was beautiful. It wasn’t until her eyes found the beach outside the tall windows that last night’s events came back to her with a flooding intensity. Her head almost began to hurt as she thought about last night’s conversation.

    
Pushing all that out of her head, she stretched and went in search of her children. She knew they were livid at her for excluding them last night. But she wouldn’t have been able to handle their questions and opinions on top of everything Alessandro and Jonathan had to tell her. Ethan had pointed out their bedrooms last night. She knocked and opened the doors, but Amelia and Harry’s rooms were empty. She went to knock on John’s, but angry music blared from the room and she decided it was best not to disturb him. She couldn’t handle his attitude or resentment at the moment.

    
Downstairs she found Alessandro in the kitchen stocking the refrigerator with something that looked remarkably like the packets of blood she use to buy at the Blood Market.

    
“Good evening, Valerie. How did you sleep?” he asked cheerfully. He was dressed in khakis and a blue and black bowling shirt, his long hair pulled back into a low ponytail.

    
“Fine, thank you. Where are my children?” she asked still feeling a little dazed from her sleep.

    
“Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but Gabriella took Amelia and Harry shopping. John declined the invitation and has been enjoying his music upstairs for most of the evening.”

    
She realized that she had slept half the night away.

    
“I’m sorry. I’ll tell him to turn it down.”

    
“No worries. Teenagers. Can I get you some breakfast?”

    
“What were you just putting into the fridge?”

    
He opened the fridge back up and pulled out a packet of blood. “It’s donated blood. Harry told Gabriella that he missed human blood. I wasn’t going to give it to him without your consent, of course. But I promise you, no humans were killed in the process,” he assured her with a smile.

    
She took the pack from him. It felt heavy in her hand. Her stomach growled. “How did Venjamin come up with enough humans to feed an entire town?”

    
“The questions never stop with you. We think that’s why he supplemented with animal meat and blood. Made a mockery out of it. We certainly don’t eat eyeballs or severed fingers. But this world is full of homeless people, runaways, and there is always human trafficking. Tobar is a resourceful man.”

    
“What do you mean by ‘donated’? Did the humans give it up freely or was it taken from them against their will?”

    
“We have a blood drive at the resort every couple of months. Most of the blood makes it to the local hospital, but not all of it. When we are born into our vampiric lives, we do not lose our souls, Valerie. It’s just that the hunger is greater than our will. We are not evil creatures. Jonathan and I do drink human blood, but we do not kill. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to the resort. I’m sure Jonathan is wondering what’s taking me so long. I will see you later and answer whatever questions you have left.”

    
“Thank you,” she said sincerely, tears suddenly threatening. “Thank you for helping us and giving us a place to stay. I don’t know what we would have done if Ethan hadn’t found us.”

    
Alessandro smiled. “This is your home now. You live here as long as you like. And when we free Charlie, he’ll be welcomed here as well.”

    
She gave him a tight smile.

    
He motioned to the packet of blood in her hands. “Enjoy your blood,” he said with a wink and took his leave.

   
 
She found a glass and poured herself some blood. She knew she was breaking her own rule about drinking blood from humans. But it tasted so sweet going down, filled her in a way only human blood could. Donated blood seemed like a good compromise. Harry and John would be happy. She was a little trepidatious of Amelia’s reaction though.

     
Valerie wandered back upstairs and showered. It was like a spa with multiple showerheads massaging her every tense muscle. The shampoos and soaps smelled heavenly. She let the water wash the remains of sleep from her and enjoyed the privacy of having a bathroom all to herself. No kids or Charlie banging on the door to get in. No thin motel walls that let the amorous cries of love penetrate. No cars whizzing by or honking their horns, no people yelling just outside the window. It was peaceful.

    
She stepped out of the shower and wiped off the steamed mirror with a fluffy white towel and looked at herself in the full length mirror. Her skin was pale and flawless as always, moist from the shower. Her hair was slicked back and tucked behind her ears. From the line of her graceful neck to the soft curve of her shoulders down the slope of her perk breasts and over her flat stomach down her long legs to her little wiggling toes, she was completely and beautifully naked. She had no makeup to paint onto her face. No curlers for her hair. No form fitting underwear to wrestle on or dress to fasten around her waist. She didn’t even have to step into stiletto heels. It was as if she was looking at herself for the first time. Her violet eyes glowed as if they were on fire. Her pink lips curled by themselves in the mirror. The mirror reflected a woman, clean, uninhibited, and free. She was beautiful. Valerie saw strength in that woman. She may not know her yet, but she knew that reflection was the woman she wanted to be.

    
When she came out of the bathroom, her clothes had disappeared. In place of them was a dark blue robe lying on her bed which was now made with such perfection that it looked as if Valerie had never disturbed it. She wrapped herself in the terry cloth robe and went hunting for her clothes. Exploring the enchanted house, she passed Ethan’s room, his door ajar. She knew she shouldn’t snoop, but her curiosity got the best of her. She peeped in.

    
His room was huge, twice the size of hers. There was an entire wall of windows from floor to ceiling over looking the ocean. A balcony was attached where a telescope stood tilted towards the starry heavens. On the two flanking sage walls bookcases climbed to the ceiling only parting to make room for a huge desk that looked antique and heavy and well-loved. On the back wall he had a large platform bed in disarray. The wall behind the bed was covered in sketches and paintings—people, cities, landscapes, some only half completed, others finished. In the corner stood an easel and an array of paints. He was an artist. She never would have guessed it. There was also an acoustic guitar that looked as if it had seen better days. A musician too? she wondered. On the floor were gorgeous rust colored rugs. The room was warm and homey, lived-in, kind of like a beloved study.

    
He was seated at his desk in jeans and a green shirt hunched over some work at his desk which was covered in papers. A flat screen computer monitor was off and a bright modern desk lamp on.

    
“You can come in,” he said before she had a chance to knock.

    
“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” she said taking just a few steps into the room.

    
He turned around in his chair. “You’re not.” He seemed more relaxed here. Relaxed as Ethan was capable of, she supposed. She could still sense that his guard was up. “How are you? Did you sleep well?”

    
“Like a rock. It was as if I hadn’t slept in a month. But my clothes seemed to have disappeared,” she said pulling the robe tighter around her suddenly aware of her naked body beneath it.

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