On the Edge of Humanity (39 page)

Webb stood with his hands behind his back, dressed in tan cargo pants and a blue t-shirt with the SEAL emblem in the upper left corner.

“He’s cool,” I whispered in Sam’s ear. “No worries.”

Sam didn’t move. He kept his protective stance, keeping his hands behind him touching my arms.

My father waved him in. “Enter, Lieutenant.”

“Commander, a word?” Webb asked, standing only just inside, not moving farther as if he were preparing for a quick exit.

“Sam, why don’t you shower? My bedroom is down the hall. There are clothes in my closet that should fit you.” My father pointed the way.

Sam glared at Webb, not moving. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but something had him agitated.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bedroom. “Go take a shower. Webb is a friend,” I said.

He looked at me. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

I nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

Why was he being vigilant? I wasn’t hurt. I wasn’t fighting for my life like when he rescued me from Cliff. Sure, I was almost poisoned, suffocated in a coffin and killed by my father’s sword, but he didn’t know any of that yet. I was beginning to think that the less he knew the better—at least for now.

Sam reluctantly walked down the hall to the bedroom. Webb seemed to relax, and made his way into the kitchen, leaning against the island. I sat on the couch while Webb and my dad began talking. I curled my legs under me and grabbed a magazine from the coffee table. I fanned the pages pretending to be engrossed in it, when the bedroom door opened.

I raised my head, amazed how quickly Sam had showered and dressed. Then my eyes widened and I drew in a sharp breath. Sam was holding a gun. His right arm was extended with his hand wrapped around the handle, finger on the trigger, the other hand supporting his right. Shock kept me glued to the sofa. What was he doing? Had he lost his mind?

Before anyone could move, Sam had the gun pointed at Webb’s head.

My father appeared calm, staring directly at Sam, hands up as if he were being arrested.

“Son, put the gun down,” my father commanded. “Webb is a friend. He’s just here to talk to me.”

As my father tried to coax Sam into giving him the gun, I jumped off the couch and over the coffee table barely clearing it. I ran the short distance to the kitchen, positioning myself next to my dad. I needed to get Sam’s attention. Apart from Ben, I was the only familiar face he’d seen since he had awakened as a vampire. He was probably scared and trying to protect me.

I swallowed and blew out a deep breath. “Sam, listen to me.”

He had the gun trained on Webb, hands steady. The way he held the gun with such precision and confidence made him look like an expert marksman.

“Webb is one of us, a good guy,” I said.

Sam’s eyes diverted from my father to me. “You say he’s our father, but I still don’t believe you. I don’t know who these people are. I don’t know who I am and what’s happened to me.”

“I know. I know what you’re going through. Put the gun down and I’ll explain. A lot has happened to you and me. But, these people—” I wagged my finger between Webb and my dad. “—are family. Please, let me explain.”

“He’s not.” He nodded at Webb. “He’s here for you.”

Webb’s eyes were slowly shifting from cobalt blue to a lighter gray. My stomach flipped a few times.

“What’re you talking about, Sam?” I broke eye contact with Webb and leered at my father.

If my dad could read minds, now would be the time to help me out.

“He came here to check on you. Don’t ask me how I know that, I just do,” Sam said as his voice cracked. “Something doesn’t feel right. I’m not even sure you’re my sister.”

I stepped around my dad and walked up to Sam. “Look at me.”

He kept his eyes focused on my father, gun still ready to shoot Webb in the back of the head.

“Sam,” I growled. “I want you to look at me, damn it! I’m still your sister. My hair color may have changed slightly, but look, I have a scar on my face from that night. I’m still Jo. Remember in the funeral home when we talked about some of the physical changes we were both experiencing?” I paused, waiting for him to nod or give me a signal that he remembered. Since he didn’t move, I continued. “You told me that your eyes changed colors. That was the start… We’re not human anymore. We’re vampires, but you’re still my brother and I love you. Now put
down
the gun. Webb isn’t going to hurt me,” I pleaded.

I wasn’t sure if the gun had bullets in it, or even if a bullet would kill Webb. Since I was only a couple of days into my new vampire body, I didn’t know a whole lot about my new species. Although I knew what Dr. Vieira had explained about how vampires could die, he didn’t mention anything about a bullet, but I didn’t want to take any chances and find out the hard way.

“Sam, please. Don’t do this,” I begged.

Webb stood still barely breathing. An electrical charge rose slowly around me, prickling the air. As a human, I started to experience weak electrical charges when I was close to Webb, but now, as a vampire, the charge was astronomically potent, making me squirm where I stood. Was it because of all the fear, anger and apprehension emanating off everyone? I guess I would learn what this electrical charge was all about in vampire school.

“No, honey, you don’t have to wait until school,” my father said, not taking his eyes off Sam. “The charge you feel is magic, lots of it.”

“Okay, that’s just wrong. You
can
read my mind?”

As if my father deliberately timed when he could read my mind, providing a distraction from the fact that Sam had a gun in his hand, Webb suddenly bent down slid to the side, clearing the way for my father, who then jumped over the island and grabbed Sam’s arm. The gun flew out of my brother’s hand, skating across the wood floor, stopping against the cabinet near the sidewall. I ran over to pick it up, but Webb beat me to it. I glanced up and Sam was encapsulated between my father’s arms. He dragged Sam over to the couch, released him and Sam fell backwards onto the cushion. As quickly as he fell backwards, he jumped and lunged for my father.

I turned on my heel and Webb grabbed me.

“Let them fight it out,” he said.

I didn’t want them fighting, but somehow I knew Sam needed to release some of his frustrations or whatever demons he was battling. Sam punched my father in the face, then the stomach, as if he were a punching bag. My eyes widened as I witnessed my father allowing Sam to beat him. He didn’t move, nor did he throw a punch. The fight scene reminded me of Sam swinging the bat at Cliff and how he practically beat him to a pulp. There was so much anger in Sam. Now I understood why Mr. Jackson had recommended an anger management class. I hadn’t seen it before; after all, my brother’s fights were always to protect me. But as the punches continued, I wondered if all his pent-up madness was directed more toward my father for not being around all these years.

As Webb and I observed the one-way boxing match, I asked, “Do you know what Sam was talking about?”

“No clue,” he said.

“So why
are
you here?” I asked.

“Top secret information,” he replied.

Somehow, I knew he was going to say that. The blue-eyed vampire still infuriated me.

After several minutes, my father grabbed hold of Sam and whispered in his ear. My brother dropped to the couch. What did my dad say to Sam? Maybe my father had a calming touch like Tripp.

My father retreated into the kitchen where he and Webb resumed their conversation.

“Hey, can I sit with you?” I asked Sam. I didn’t know if he wanted me around, but I braced my heart for his answer. This wasn’t how I imagined our reunion.

He nodded, so I plopped down. We both sat there in silence the only noise in the apartment stemming from the voices in the kitchen.

I tried to muster up words of wisdom, but I didn’t have any. What wisdom could I possibly convey to my brother? I was only a teenager, a young, naïve vampire teenager. I had gobs to learn about my immortal life. We both did.

“Do you still believe the man you tried to beat to death is not our father?” I asked.

“He looks like me. I’ll give you that. But I want more proof than just looks and what you told me.”

It didn’t surprise me that Sam needed proof. He wouldn’t be my brother otherwise. He was never that trusting of anyone or anything. I guess he had my father to thank for that.

“What did he say to you that made you calm down?”

Sam looked at me with soft eyes. “He said that he would prove he was my father and that he loved me.”

“He actually said he loved you?” Shock waves rumbled inside me. I had to pull things out of him and all Sam had to do was punch him a few times. Boy, it was going to take a supernatural miracle to erase my daddy issues.

Webb walked to the door and my dad followed him.

“No more disturbances until I give you the signal. Is that understood?” my father said in an unyielding tone.

“Yes, Commander.”

My father locked the steel door behind Webb, then joined us in the living room, sitting down in a chair opposite Sam and me. Sam had calmed down, sitting on the edge of a cushion, his head in his hands, probably contemplating his new life.

I was curious who was going to start the conversation. Here we were, the three of us, brought together by genetics and slew of other weird events, sitting in a military compound as vampires, not sure what to say to each other. The whole scene was surreal.

My dad cleared his throat, rubbing his jaw. The resemblance between Sam and Dad was uncanny, from the length and color of their hair to their physical build and facial features. From head to toe, I could barely tell them apart except my father was an inch taller than Sam. The creepy part for me was that Dad didn’t look old enough to be our father. I wondered at what age he had become a vampire.

“I’ll get to my age at another time. Right now—”

“Get out of my head,” I said as I glowered at him. “It really isn’t cool.”

“What’s going on?” Sam asked, lifting his head.

“Dad is the only vampire in the world who can read minds. At least that’s what Webb told me. He’s supposed to be the most powerful because of all his abilities that other vampires don’t have,” I explained.

“Can you read mine?” Sam asked.

“We’ll discuss that later. Right now we have other things to talk about.” He shifted in his seat. “Over fourteen years ago,” my father began, “when you both were just over a year old, your mother died of leukemia. I had come home on leave from the Navy to spend the last few months with her and to take care of you. Just after her funeral, I received orders to deploy to Afghanistan. The only family we had was your Aunt Terri, your mother’s sister. She didn’t want to take on two kids, but she gave in since I wasn’t going to be gone that long. I hated to leave, but the Navy said the mission would only last two months.

“As it turned out, the mission lasted more than a year. During that time, I requested and pleaded with my commander for leave to return home for a few weeks, but that request was denied. They needed me to stay with my team and see the mission through. I had been in contact with Terri explaining my situation, but during one of my calls home, we had an argument…a nasty one about your mother. You have to understand that Terri was an extremely bitter woman who hated me since the day I married your mother. She was the type of woman who relished holding grudges. She decided to call the state foster care system and turn me in for abandoning my children. Her excuse was that she was sick and couldn’t take care of you, and that you had no other family. That’s when the state stepped in and placed you in foster care.” He rose from the chair and walked over to the window.

Sam and I looked at each other, eyebrows arched. Sam was about to speak and I shook my head. I wanted my father to finish his story. I was afraid if we interrupted him, he would lose his train of thought.

With his back to us, he continued. “When I returned from deployment, I showed up at Terri’s house seeking answers to find you and take you out of foster care. But the person who answered the door informed me that she had died in a car accident a couple of months before and they had purchased the house from her estate auction. I contacted the state, but they just gave me the runaround. I provided them with all the necessary information—paperwork, birth certificates everything—but I kept getting passed from one person to another. I ran out of time before I had to deploy again and this time I was gone for two years. I had some of my military friends trying to investigate, but it was even worse for them trying to get information from the State of Massachusetts.” He turned around and met our gazes. His forest green eyes swam with tears, lots of them, spilling down his cheeks, which I imagined was the reason he had turned his back to us. “I truly am sorry,” he said as he eased himself down on to the coffee table.

“I don’t believe that you couldn’t find us in fourteen years,” Sam said in a questioning tone.

“After years of trying,” he continued, as if ignoring Sam’s comment, “between deployments, I was thrown another curve ball. It was at that time that Edmund Rain, who is now my enemy, formed a rogue team of ex-Sentinels known as the Plutariums. Edmund wants nothing more than to make me suffer for things he thinks I did to him. I decided then that it was better not knowing where you were. If I couldn’t find you, I knew Edmund and his team couldn’t either. It killed me to stop looking for you, but your safety came first. Then he recruited your Uncle Patrick, who also wants to take his own personal revenge against me.”

I suspected Sam was in a pool of confusion, not knowing who these people were. I was going to fill him in earlier, but then Webb showed up. I didn’t want to interrupt my father just yet. Sam, I imagined, would follow along for now.

“Come again?” Sam said. “You decided not to search for us because of this Edmund guy? And who is Uncle Patrick?”

I was surprised the name Patrick didn’t ring a bell with Sam. After all, Patrick was the one conducting lab experiments on him.

“You don’t know who Patrick is?” I asked. My voice hitched a notch.

He shook his head.

“Patrick is my half-brother. He’s the one responsible for draining you of your blood. In the United States, he is well known as Dr. Patrick Mason, genetic scientist and researcher. He wanted me to help him concoct a serum to turn him into a vampire. His goals became more selfish the older he got, but he had lost his chance of immortality years ago. As a human, Patrick had no reason to learn our vampire laws, but they are strict on making the change, becoming immortal. If I helped him, I could’ve gone to jail, or worse—been put to death. As it is, I’ll have to explain to my superiors what happened with both of you and why you two are now vampires.” He laced his fingers together and placed them against his lips.

“So why are we vampires?” Sam asked.

I looked at my dad and caught his gaze. He nodded at me. Was he trying to tell me that he wanted me to explain this part to Sam? I wasn’t sure that I could remember all the medical lingo behind it. Before I could mutter a word, Sam broke the silence.

“Well?” he asked.

“You were dying,” my father replied as he looked at me. “It was Jo’s decision.”

I blew out a breath. “I had to…to…become a vampire to save you,” I added.

Sam peered at me with a doleful expression, as if he were trying to tell me I shouldn’t have saved him. My heart splintered into a trillion pieces as tears pooled in his eyes.