Vampire Shift (Kiera Hudson Series #1) (15 page)

With my heart racing so loud and fast I thought he would hear it, I held my breath. From the other side of the locker door, I could hear the sound of footsteps crossing the room. Then he stopped, and I didn’t know why. Wishing that I was someplace else, I closed my eyes, and willed him to go away.

Please!
I screamed inside my head.
Please don’t look inside the locker!

Then the sound of his footsteps coming closer.

Please no!
I begged.

Closer still. My heart was thumping as I held my breath. The door rattled as he took hold of the handle on the other side.

“Rom!” I heard another say, the voice sounding distant. “Rom!”

“I told you to wait below,” Rom said, his voice sounding angry on the other side of the locker door. Then I heard the sound of his footsteps heading back across the room.

Covering my mouth with my hands, and closing my eyes, I dropped my head in relief. But I was still in trouble. I had to get out of the police station before Murphy and Potter came back and joined them. Hearing the locker room door close, I waited just to make sure that Rom had gone. When I was sure I couldn’t hear him, I eased my way from the locker, being careful not to make any noise.

With my heart pounding in my chest, I crept over to the door. Placing the side of my face against it, I listened. The sound of muffled voices came from the other side. Scraping my long black hair behind my ear, I tried to make out what it was they were saying.

“Bishop has complicated matters,” Rom said. “But he will be dealt with?” the other asked, pressing my ear flat against the door, hoping that I might recognise the voice. “Yes, it is in hand,” Rom almost seemed to growl at the other. There was a pause, then the unknown voice said, “If she were to discover the truth – what then?” “She already knows about us,” Rom said. “Not that,” hissed the other. “I’m talking about if she really knew what had happened.”  
I’ve already figured it out, wise guy
, I thought to myself.
I know it’s you who killed the boy and the old man
. But then Rom said something that almost made me drop to the floor in shock.

“This Kiera can’t ever find out what happened to her mother,” he said.

“Leave that to me,” said the other, his voice fading as they walked away down the corridor to the custody block.

Sliding to the floor and pulling my knees up beneath my chin, I sat in numb shock at what I’d just heard. It was as if I’d just woken from a deep sleep – dazed and confused. What did my mother have to do with what was taking place in The Ragged Cove? She had disappeared three years ago on her way to buy me a birthday cake, she had nothing to do with this, I told myself. Perhaps I’d misheard what had been said. But in my heart I knew that I hadn’t. Why had she come to The Ragged Cove? Who had brought her here, and why? But the one thought that ate away at me more than any of the others, was: What had happened to her?

Pulling myself to my feet, I felt sick and frightened. Not for me, but for her. Where was my mother? I felt more determined than ever to uncover what was happening in The Ragged Cove – however dangerous that might be. But I knew I had little time left before the Vampyrus, the vampires, or both came for me.

Listening against the door to make sure Rom and his companion were not on the other side, I slowly turned the handle. Opening it just a fraction, I put my eye to the crack and peered out. The corridor was empty and the hatch was closed, fastened again with the rusty padlock. In the distance, I could hear the sound of voices. Opening the door another inch, I listened. It was the sound of them talking. Their voices hollow and coming from the custody block.

Sneaking from behind the door, I stepped into the corridor. With their voices fading behind me, I glanced down again at the hatch. Through its metal grating, I could see only darkness as it spiralled away into hell. Reaching the main office, I crept around the front counter, unlocked the door, and left the police station.

It had started to snow again, and with no other option but to return to the Crescent Moon Inn, I set off towards it. I just prayed that I reached it before either the vampires or Vampyrus took me.

Chapter Sixteen

With the Crescent Moon Inn within sight, I ran as fast as I could towards it. It had taken me over an hour to walk from the police station and every minute had seemed like an eternity. It hadn’t just been the freezing snow that had made my journey so miserable; it had been the constant fear that at any moment, I would be rushed at by screaming vampires or snatched into the air by flying Vampyrus. With Luke banished to The Hollows, I felt exposed and unprotected. I wondered now if he could be trusted, and although I’d refused to dwell earlier on Potter’s comments about Luke’s guilt, I now feared what he might have to feel guilty about.

Ever since overhearing Rom mention my mother, I knew that whatever had happened to her, the Vampyrus had been involved and I feared that Luke had played a part in that.

Reaching the Inn, I pushed open the door and stepped inside. The bar area had the usual number of locals clustered around the tables, warming themselves by the fire, cradling a neat whiskey in their hands. Again, they all looked up at me and the room fell into a hushed silence. I felt like screaming at them,
WHAT ARE YOU ALL LOOKING AT?
but I didn’t. I skulked across the bar with my head down, just wanting to get tonight over with. As I reached the foot of the staircase leading up to the bedrooms, Roland appeared in the doorway of the small back office. I jumped, his sudden presence making me gasp. He looked at me, his jowls glowing red, as he wiped his meaty hands against his stained apron.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you,” he blushed.

“It’s okay,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Well if you are sure…”

“I’m sure,” I told him, just wanting to get to my room.

“It’s just that you look washed-out –
ill
,” he said.

“It’s been one of those days. “ I knew he was only trying to be nice, but I wasn’t in the mood for him.

“Perhaps, I could fix you up with something to eat?” he smiled. “A sandwich, perhaps?”

“I thought your mother was strict about eating times?” I said, unzipping my coat. It had been freezing outside, but with the heat from the roaring fire coming from the bar, the Inn felt hot and oppressive.

“Don’t take any notice of mother,” he smiled. And then leaning in towards me, he whispered, “She has her odd little ways.”

I hadn’t been so close to Roland before, and as he stepped forward, I could see beads of sweat lining his brow and glistening on his upper lip. His eyes looked puffy and his lips tinged blue. Seeing that his circulation was obviously bad, I guessed that he would be dead of a heart attack by the time he was fifty. It was hard to tell how old he was as his plumpness consumed any wrinkles or lines that his face might have. His dark, wavy hair was messy and dirty, combed back, and greasy-looking. His chubby hands were flecked with blood from where he had been preparing raw meat in the kitchen. His breath smelt bad and the thought of him preparing any food for me made me feel repulsed.

Inching my way up the stairs, I looked back at him and said, “It’s really sweet of you to offer Roland, but I just want to get some sleep.”

“If you’re sure, young lady,” he called after me. “I really don’t mind.”

“Thank you,” I called back over my shoulder, “but I’m sure. Goodnight, Roland.”

Closing my bedroom door behind me, I threw off my coat, and taking the map and the list of the dates and locations of the murders, I sat on the floor. Spreading the map before me, I took a pen and made a mark on the map, highlighting where the murders furthest apart had taken place. I’d often heard my father talk about studies he had read into the murders committed by serial killers. There were several theories stating that most serial killers committed their murders close to their home address. It often took less effort on the part of the killer if they committed their crimes close to home, and they liked to be a minimum distance away from their home so they could return there quickly once the crime had been committed. I heard dad say once that if you took the two furthest locations of the killers crimes, marked them on a map and drew a circle around them, somewhere in that ring you would have your killer.

So with my pen, I drew a large circle on the map. But I knew that I wasn’t dealing with just one killer, I was dealing with several – possibly more. But I had a theory of my own. Luke had told me that when the
hunger
was upon them, it was like a burning sensation in their very souls, which couldn’t be satisfied unless they gave into it or returned back to The Hollows and waited for it to subside. They were like drug addicts or those that were starving. And in either case, would an addict walk miles for a fix if they knew they could get one close by? Would someone who was starving walk past several restaurants, or go and eat at the first one they came across? The same rules applied to the Vampyrus and the vampires. When they woke and their craving was at its height, they would kill and eat from the first available source of food they came across.

So taking my list, I marked on the map every location and the date that a victim had been found. Once I’d finished, I sat back and looked at the map. In the centre of the map, there was a cluster of tiny crosses. These marked the killings furthest back in time. Then as I reached the most recent murders, the crosses spread further out over the map until they touched the edge of the circle that I’d made.

But why would the killings be taking place further and further away from the centre of the ring, I wondered. Then thinking of the little old woman downstairs and her bottles of holy water, crucifixes, and decorations made of garlic, I realised why the murders had been moving further out of town. As the news of the body count had grown, and with it the rumours of vampires, the residents of The Ragged Cove had taken precautions by stocking up on holy water, crucifixes, and decorating their homes with cloves of garlic. So as more and more of the terrified villagers had done this, the further away the Vampyrus and vampires had to go to find victims and sedate their hunger. Thinking of how I’d been attacked on the town’s border, it suggested to me that my hypothesis was right. How many homes would those vampires had to have passed, all of them filled with humans and their delicious blood, before they came across me? There would have been hundreds, but each night they had been pushed further and further afield in search of food. But as they did, they were spreading their net beyond the reaches of The Ragged Cove, and with every killing another vampire was born.

Realising that time was running out if I were to…to do what exactly? I didn’t know. But to know the location of their lair would be a start. So looking back at the map, I stuck the tip of my pen in the centre of the group of concentrated crosses. Pulling it away again, I looked at the mark it had made on the top of St. Mary’s Church. Reeling in shock and disbelief, I slumped backwards onto my butt and stared down at the map. Before I’d had time to fully comprehend what I’d discovered, I noticed a shadow beneath my bedroom door as if someone were standing outside it. Believing Roland had ignored my refusals to take up his offer of something to eat, I got up and went to the door.

Yanking it open, I said, “Look Roland, it really is very sweet of you but -” Before I’d had a chance to finish, I realised that it wasn’t the Innkeeper standing outside my room, but the hooded man who had been leaving me the envelopes and crucifixes.

We both gasped at the same time, me in shock and him as if he really didn’t want to get caught. Sensing this, I grabbed for him, desperate to know who had been following me since my arrival at The Ragged Cove. He jumped back away from me, but he wasn’t quick enough and I had hold of his hoodie. He pushed me in the chest, and I fell backwards into my room, crashing to the floor and taking him with me. Rolling onto my back, I watched him get up and bolt for the door. Reaching out with both arms, I wrapped them around his legs. Toppling over like a stack of children’s bricks, he slammed into the floor again. Kneeling on his chest, pinning him down, I pulled back the hood. Recognising the face that stared back at me, I jumped back and gasped, “What are you doing here?”

Chapter Seventeen

“Covering your back,” Sergeant Phillips groaned, looking up at me from beneath the hood.

“Why?” I said, still shocked at discovering the hooded man was my sergeant from training school.

“Why do you think?” he said, getting up off the floor. “You might have noticed that this town ain’t exactly normal.”

“Then why send me?” I asked, sitting on the edge of my bed.

“No one sent you,” Phillips said. “You volunteered, remember?”

“With plenty of persuasion from you,” I reminded him as he sat down at the desk.

“Okay, okay,” he said, “However it happened, you’re here now and in incredible danger.”

“I’ve worked that out for myself,” I told him.

“You only know the half of it,” he said, his voice lowered.

“What do you mean, sarge?” I said, fearing what he had to tell me.

“For starters, stop calling me sarge,” he half-smiled. “We’re not at training school.”

“Sorry, Craig,” I said, feeling odd calling him by his first name. He was a handsome man, in his mid-thirties, but he had gone prematurely grey–white if I were to be honest – but it kind of suited his rugged looks and gave him a look of authority – almost imposing. I hadn’t exactly had a
thing
for him as a recruit, but I had made a complete fool of myself on graduation day. I’d been upset and hurt that my father had died just a few months before my passing-out parade. At the evening function, the women dressed in their gowns and the men in their tuxedoes, I’d consumed one too many glasses of wine and my grief had overtaken me.

Wanting to be held and comforted, I’d smooched up to Craig and dropped my arm around him. The rest is kind of a blur, but I did have vague memories of trying to entice him onto the dance floor. When he’d refused, I told him how hot he looked in his tuxedo and asked if he had a wife. The next thing I remember was waking the next morning in my small room, lying on top of my bed, still wearing my ball gown and cradling a picture of my father to my chest.