Wombstone (The Vampireland Series) (10 page)

BOOK: Wombstone (The Vampireland Series)
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I tensed up, panicking. “I don’t want to go back there.”

“You won’t! Just stay calm, don’t freak out.”

“I already am freaking out.” My heart was thumping so loud I could barely think.

“I’m aware of that, thanks.”

“Get out of my head! Again!”

“It’s a little hard not to hear what you’re thinking. You’re like a goddamn emergency beacon, shouting out our coordinates.”

“And you’re a goddamn psychopath! Magic will help us get out of here? I think this is just one, big prank you retards are playing on me before you kill me.”

Ryan’s cell vibrated on the bathroom counter, and the screen lit up. He snatched it up and studied the screen. “Not long now,” he said in a voice that didn’t sound at all reassuring.

“She should have helicoptered in,” I joked. “Would have been quicker.”

Ryan nodded. “She did want to bring the Apache. I told her it’d attract too much attention.”

“Well, good for you.” I looked around the tiny bathroom and longed for some wide open space. I studied the skin on my arms and realized it was almost completely healed. No blisters, and only a slight reddish tinge that was getting fainter by the minute.

“Hey, it worked.”

Ryan took my hand and studied my arm. “You’re a fast healer,” he said.
 

I told him about how I had cut my finger in the shower. “Will everything heal that fast?”

He shook his head. “I have a lot to explain, and I’ll try my best to do that on the way home. For now, yes you will heal fast, but you’re not invincible. A lot of new vampires get too cocky, think they’re indestructible, and they get themselves killed pretty fast.”

“What’s going to get me killed?” I asked softly. “Apart from those guys outside.”

“Well, fire’s really dangerous for vampires. It will kill you just as soon as a regular person. Bullets aren’t so bad, as long as you don’t get hit in a major artery. There are a few plants that are poisonous to vampires. None that you’ll find anywhere around here.”

“Just one more question,” I said. “How the hell are there such things as vampires? I mean, how did you come about? Was someone bitten by a bat or something?” I scowled. “Will I turn into a bat?”

“That’s a long story,” he smiled reassuringly. “A bat–free story, though. Let’s wait for the car ride for that one.”
 

Ryan’s phone buzzed again. “She’s here,” he said. I followed him out of the bathroom and into the main room. “Grab your stuff, let’s go.”

I stood in the middle of the room, still clutching the calico ‘hex’ bag. “Uh ... what stuff?”

He grabbed the pile of bloodied sheets and dumped them into my arms, then gathered up his own duffel bag and that hideous glass jar. “Here. Let’s go, quickly. Don’t lose that hex bag.”

I stumbled out into the intensifying midday sunshine, relieved to feel only a slight irritation on my exposed skin. I wanted to ask how many days we’d been here, but now wasn’t the time. Ryan walked briskly to a Ford Explorer that sat idling halfway between the motel room and the diner. I followed, tossing the sheets into the car and taking a seat in the back.
 

A pretty woman with straight, strawberry blonde hair, huge green eyes and high cheekbones looked me over from her spot behind the wheel. I smiled awkwardly as Ryan dove into the front passenger seat.
 

“Go!” he urged, slamming his door as the woman spun the wheels and screeched off down the street. I questioned the instinct to put my seatbelt on, thinking it useless now that I was technically dead. Or undead. Whatever. I made a mental note to get my new–found status cleared up.
 

 
 

***

We ended up on what looked like a freeway, and after about ten minutes, the woman driving seemed to relax slightly and backed off the gas. Ryan popped the safety back on his revolver and rested it on his lap.   
 

“Mia Blake,” he said, gesturing, “meet Isobel Valentina. Ivy for short. I think you two are going to like each other.”
 

I swallowed dryly. “Thanks for the ride,” I said.
 

She turned and grinned at me, her perfectly straight, white teeth looking more Hollywood than Dracula.
 

“No problem,” she said. “I would have brought the helicopter, but, you know.”

I nodded in disbelief as we made our way to Los Angeles.
 

SIXTEEN

Three hours and one very tense border check later, we were pulling up to a palatial Spanish–style mansion in Pasadena. I only knew it was Pasadena because of the end destination on the GPS screen that was mounted to the dash in front. I hadn’t really been talking for a lot of the trip. I longed to sleep but wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything important.

We drove through a set of gates and into a large, walled lot that seemed to stretch out for miles. There was a circular driveway leading to the split–level residence. The house appeared to be made out of limestone, and was rendered in a burnt red color. A thick green grapevine twirled up a trellis between two gigantic windows and black iron balconies jutted out from the second floor. I took a look at the stairs leading up to the massive double wooden front doors and guessed they were made from marble.

The house probably would have fit in perfectly in Mexico, but here we were, in the wealthy part of Pasadena. I had never been to the West coast, and the heat struck me as soon as I got out of the car. It was a dry, intense heat that made my skin prickle in discomfort, even in December.

Ryan appeared beside me. “You feel okay?”

I nodded, suddenly woozy from thirst and the heat. “Where are we?”

“Ivy's place.” Ryan placed his hand in the small of my back, guiding me up the stairs. I looked at what he was holding. “Hey!”I said indignantly. “That’s my bag!”

Sure enough, he was holding my handbag. I had assumed that I would never see it again, but here it was, taunting me. I hadn’t seen it since the night I’d been taken, and looking at it now brought back every awful thing that had happened that night.

I don’t want your ring, or your Canal Street knock–off.

I clenched my jaw, my chest swiftly filled with rage. When we got up to the front door, I stopped dead and refused to go past the threshold.

“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked, but I could tell he already had some idea what I was thinking.

“I want to go home,” I said stubbornly.

Ryan sighed. “You’re not a prisoner here. You can do whatever you want. But,” he pointed at my swiftly reddening skin, “you’re going to regret it if you stay outside.”

I stared at him angrily, searching his face for any sign of malice or lies.
 

“Give me until sundown,” he said quickly. “You can rest, we can talk. Then you can make a decision about what you want to do.”

I wavered in the doorway. Should I shelter in the little shade there was, somehow get to a phone, and call the police? For the first time, it didn’t seem so clear–cut anymore. I was starting to turn a beautiful shade of lobster red when Ivy breezed past me, carrying a sports bags and dragging a roll–along suitcase that I’d seen before.

“Is that my stuff?” I shrieked, pointing. Ivy handed the bags to Ryan and gestured for him to continue inside the house.

“How did you get my stuff? Did you hurt my mom?”

“Your mom’s fine. She packed these bags for you. She thinks you’re at an intensive track camp at The University of California.”

“Why does she think that?” I demanded, feeling hotter by the second.

“You’ve been emailing her almost every day,” Ryan answered. “Come inside, I’ll explain.”

“I can’t believe this.” I shook my head, overwhelmed. My mom thought I was at track camp? No wonder nobody had rescued me.
Nobody even knew I was missing.

“Look, kid,” Ivy said, studying my face intently while she chewed strawberry–flavored gum. (I knew it was strawberry because my sense of smell had become so acute in the past few days. I could even tell what brand of gum it was in her mouth.) “I know where you’ve been, I’ve been there as well. I was taken by the same person you were.”

“Him?” I said incredulously, pointing through the door where Ryan had disappeared.

She smiled, shaking her head. “Not him. Caleb.” She paused, looking me up and down. “Ryan’s not a bad person. He –”

“–is a
terrible
person,” I interjected. “I’m not buying, lady.”

She pressed her lips together, seemingly amused. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you reading my mind or my face now?”

The smile disappeared, replaced by a frown. I stood in front of one incredibly pissed–off vampire, and I had no idea what I’d said to get that reaction from her.

“Get inside,” she hissed. I tried to resist, but her words were absolutely magnetic. I shuffled through the door, into the house, and jumped as it was slammed shut behind me.

My eyes adjusted instantly to the dimly lit hallway, which surprised me. I didn’t have time to think about my new improved vision, though. I walked down the terracotta–tiled hallway, into a huge, open–plan kitchen and dining area. Through that room, the hallway continued, and I saw Ryan disappear into a doorway on the left. I followed dubiously, making sure to pay as much attention as possible to my surroundings. It looked, for the most part, like a regular house. Which was kind of a relief after the twisted shit I’d seen in the last few weeks.

I poked my head into the room where Ryan had disappeared, to find a large double bedroom. Ryan had set my stuff on the floor in front of a white canopied double bed.
 

“This is your room,” he said. “Until you go home.”

“Which home are we talking about now?” I asked, barging past him and snatching up my handbag.

“Mia,” he said, and I felt dread at hearing my name come out of his mouth. I ignored him, kneeling in front of the bed and dumping the contents of my handbag onto the fluffy white duvet. My iPhone, keys, tampons and a can of mace spilled out in a messy pile. I grabbed the phone triumphantly and pressed the ON button.
 

“Mia, can you listen for a minute?” I felt him crouching beside me but didn’t look. I looked at my blank iPhone screen in frustration and tried pressing the power button again. It was no use. The battery was probably drained by now. I started opening compartments in my handbag, finding tissues, study notes and crumpled up receipts, but no charger.

“Mia?”

I rummaged some more and my fingers brushed against a smooth, almost waxy piece of paper tucked into the side of my bag. I dug it out and stared at life as I had known it before Ryan had taken me. It was a strip of photos from one of those old–school photo booths. On the last day of work at Jefferson Lake, the camp had held a carnival day, complete with pony rides, water slides – and a photo booth. Jared, Evie and I had crammed into the kid–sized compartment and posed for laughs. The first two photos were of all three of us, pulling stupid faces. Then there was a photo of Evie and I, smiling and laughing. The last photo was Jared and I, sharing a corny kiss. I stared in horror at my old life as I tried to hold the shattered pieces of myself together.

Ryan took the phone from me and placed it on the bed in front of us. I didn’t care about the stupid phone any more. Even if I did call home, what was I going to say? The truth? It sounded fucking ridiculous. “I got kidnapped by vampires, Mom. How are you?”
 

“Mia!” Ryan snapped, grabbing my shoulder and shaking me out of my thoughts.


What
?” I yelled. Tears filled my eyes but I refused to let them spill over.

He let go of my shoulder and spoke in a softer voice. “I know this is hard for you. There are things happening right now that you can’t even begin to understand. Just remember this: You’re not dead. It was close – you were almost dead. You can see them again,” he gestured to the photo strip in my hand, “but first I need to make sure you’re safe. The people who were after you in Mexico still want you back.”

I glared at him. “Is this supposed to make me happy?” I asked coldly. “Because it doesn’t. At all.”
He looked genuinely confused. “I saved your life after you jumped out of a
window
. You nearly bled to death. You
should
be happy.”
“I never asked you to save me,” I snapped, feeling sick for the thousandth time. “I asked you to leave me there to die, remember?”
He shook his head, got up and left the room. I slammed the door behind him with a satisfying crash.
I took a deep breath and looked around my new cage. It sure was pretty, but it was still essentially a cage. The only things missing were a length of chain hanging from the ceiling and a dead girl in the corner.

You know, I like you. I might just keep you after Caleb’s finished.

I pressed my palms to my burning cheeks and wondered what the hell could possibly happen next.

SEVENTEEN

After Ryan left, I stared at the door I’d slammed shut on him. My brain felt tired – that nauseating, burning fatigue that takes hold and makes you feel like you’re never going to have an ounce of energy as long as you live. I think I was in shock, too – nobody dies and wakes up again without some kind of major issues. I ended up curling into a ball on the bed and crying. I cried and cried until there was nothing left in me, until I was calm and still and quiet.

After a little while, I sat up, wiped my itchy face with clammy hands, and decided to have another go finding a phone charger. I had just finished tearing apart the contents of the suitcase some vampire had neatly packed for me when there was a knock at the door. I looked up, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah?”
 

The door opened. Ryan had changed into a black fitted t-shirt and denim shorts, his bare feet silent on the polished floorboards of the hallway. If he were just a regular guy, I would have been tongue–tied at his effortless magnetism – the guy practically
oozed
sexuality. But as it was, everything about him just irritated me. He held a white phone charger in his hand and tossed it to me. I caught it mid–air. Seemed my reflexes had gotten better since the Turn.

BOOK: Wombstone (The Vampireland Series)
12.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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