Authors: J. A. Saare
"Shit,” Caleb's deep voice muttered.
Movement came from my right and I felt something warm under my arm, bringing a painful burning into focus. A heated sticky trickle ran down the inside of the jacket lining, leaking past my elbow. I turned my head, gazing down at Caleb's hand and gasping through my teeth.
"Take the jacket off,” he said gently, reaching around to help as I shrugged from the sleeves.
I winced as the leather peeled away from the torn skin, biting my bottom lip in an effort to bear the sting. The throbbing arm came out slick and wet, blood spreading around the right side of my blouse and down to my hand.
"Ugh.” I averted my head after one good look at my arm. The gash was at least two inches long and deep enough to reveal the fatty tissue underneath. The bright red edges were raw and ragged.
I probably needed stitches.
Caleb released my arm, grasping his black t-shirt and tugging it free of his jeans. He seized two pieces of the wrinkled hem in his hands, ripping a strip free from the rest. He moved closer and reached underneath my arm to wrap the cloth around. His face was a study in concentration, a frown marring his mouth as he twisted one piece of the cloth over the other.
"Almost done,” he mumbled, drawing in a steadying breath.
His hands moved outward, pulling the cloth tight over the wound. I gasped and tears sprang to my eyes. The burn was incredible, stretching through the muscle and into the elbow.
"Keep pressure on it.” He grabbed my left hand and placed it over the bandage.
"Where's Billy?” the driver asked and swerved the wheel.
A wave of darkness disrupted my vision and I fought the black dots that threatened to send me under, shaking my head forcefully.
"I'm not sure,” Caleb answered, moving away and settling in on the opposite side of the van. He reclined back and those tremendous indigo eyes locked me in place. “He took on the one from the cafe, only, he wasn't alone."
"We expected that, though. Tristan works fast.” The driver swerved again and gunned the accelerator.
"Luca will be glad we moved faster.” Caleb leaned his head against the wall of the van, placing elbows on top of his bent knees and relaxing. His shoulders eased, no longer tight or tense.
"Who are you people?” I asked while taking in my surroundings. With the exception of the plush brown carpet, a couple of large blue Tupperware containers, and our bodies, it was totally stripped. My eyes returned to Caleb and he met my gaze without flinching.
"We're the ones that saved your precious ass sweetheart,” the driver taunted, swerving the wheel yet again.
I bit back a pained yelp as I attempted to right myself and glared into the rearview mirror, meeting a pair of chocolate brown eyes. He stared back, studying me for a moment before focusing on the road.
"Would someone tell me what the hell is going on?” I snapped, anger replacing fear.
Caleb's forehead creased, as if he were attempting to formulate words in his head.
"Just spit it out!"
Caleb leaned forward, his deep voice a soothing timbre that carried across my skin. “Emma, I know this must be confusing. I don't blame you—"
"I didn't tell you my name."
I froze as a paralyzing fear encompassed my body.
I never said my name. I was certain of it.
Panic caused my heart to accelerate, adrenaline crashing through my chest and expanding through my limbs. I looked at the back doors, weighing the probable odds. If I could somehow get them open and get outside, I might have a chance. But the impact would probably shatter each of my legs—or worse.
Maybe if I rolled...
"Wait,” Caleb implored softly, keeping his voice calm but firm, “Let me explain."
I swallowed loudly. I didn't know this man, and I wasn't sure if I should trust him or not, but after what I'd just seen...
"All right,” I agreed cautiously.
I pressed against the side of the van and pulled my knees into my chest, intent on keeping as much distance between us as possible.
His deep blue eyes stayed connected with mine as he spoke. “Derek, keep driving until we reach our swap point. Did you call ahead and let them know we got her?"
"I called when I saw you rounding the corner. Sam said there are half's everywhere, so it's not safe to meet. He recommended driving through to the Pit, if it comes down to it."
"Shit,” Caleb muttered thickly, turning to Derek. “I have to tell her. She'll find out soon enough anyway. If we have to take her to the Pit, its better she know from the start what she's getting into."
"What about Billy?” Derek's voice wavered slightly at the mention of the name.
"If he made it out, he probably had to change,” Caleb responded flatly, “And they'll start looking in our circles."
"How do you know my name?” I murmured, twisting the ring on my right hand in a calming circular motion with my thumb.
Caleb returned his attention to me, pushing heavy dark hair away from his eyes. The thick strands spilled forward in a natural motion as he ran large hands through its depths. The combination of tan, blue eyes, and dark hair, had the potential to incapacitate any female.
It's a damned good thing I'm solid as an oak
, I told myself,
Rock solid.
"We were given your name when we were told to come here.” Caleb shifted uncomfortably, motioning to Derek. “We're what you might refer to as...uh,” he paused and struggled for the precise words.
"What he's trying to say is—we're the ones whose asses are placed on the line if the cash is good and the motivation is there,” Derek interrupted and I turned in time to see him smirk at me through the rearview mirror, “And in your case, the cash and the motivation were more than substantial."
"Wait.” I laughed nervously, “You were hired to be in the alley? Why?"
"What do you know about your Mother and Father, Emma?” Caleb posed the question curiously, his attentive eyes taking note of my response.
Immediately defensive, I asked, “What does that have to do with anything?"
"More than you might think,” Caleb answered, keeping his tone neutral, betraying nothing.
There were a number of reasons I didn't answer directly. I didn't speak of my parents often; it was a sensitive subject. No strike that, it was a big blaring sore spot.
Caleb sat patiently as he waited for my answer, observing me from behind impossibly long lashes. His eyes darted over my face, indigo blue pools cool, calm, and collected.
I cleared my throat, managing to keep my temper in check. “There isn't much to know. My Dad split when my Mom found out she was pregnant. She died a couple of years later in an automobile accident."
"Shit! She doesn't know?” Derek's loud and sudden outburst caused me to jump. He cackled and slapped the steering wheel with his hands, obviously finding humor in the situation.
"I don't know what?” I snapped hotly.
"You, my girl, are related to royalty. Tied to one of the greatest families of them all—"
Caleb interrupted Derek. “Emma, your Father sent us, and he wants to explain everything to you. It's not as simple as you might think. Things are far more complicated.” Derek started to speak again and Caleb kicked the back of his seat. “Shut it, man! Before your mouth writes another check your ass can't cash."
"Damn it!” Derek bellowed, whipping his head around to scream, “I'm trying to drive here!"
"Then let me talk!” Caleb's deep yell reverberated inside the van.
My eyes flickered to the floor, stopping at the brown shag carpet.
My jacket was discarded on top; the blood dried along the ragged tear in the arm, leaving it ruined. My hand touched the edge of the leather and a brown piece of stain flaked off, sticking to my finger. I shook the dried blood away and eased out my legs, sitting Indian style. My arm still throbbed and my body still ached. I was exhausted and scared, frustrated and confused. But more than that, I found myself wanting to believe him.
What if my Father did send for me? That would mean I wasn't as alone as I once conceived. But that didn't excuse the fact he had left me and my Mother behind.
What kind of man does something like that?
How complex could it be?
You either left someone or you stayed.
The new surge of emotions fluctuated between sincere hope and blinding outrage.
Something else surfaced in my brain, a question I meant to ask long before I had seen torrents of blood streaming down my arm.
"And what exactly are those things we were running from back there?"
Caleb closed his eyes at the question and rested his head against the wall. I sat in the eerie quiet, uncertain of what to say.
Seconds ticked by slowly and his face retained that same serene look, never wavering, never flinching. He seemed to be calling upon some hidden inner resolve, and when he found it, he reopened his eyes, lifting his head and leaning forward.
"What if someone told you all the things you thought weren't real actually are?” he asked, staring into my eyes with an intensity that made me squirm uncomfortably.
I assumed he would say something about genetic mutants that hid behind small town streets—only coming out when they got extremely annoyed or agitated. Or perhaps all the garbage diving had driven our homeless to shave their teeth into razor sharp points and go around chasing people at random. Or better yet, the rat population was infected with some new strain of Ebola virus that filtered down into the community.
I expected anything, so this wasn't that far off if I was being honest with myself.
"I suppose.” I drew out the last word, lifting my head to glance at Derek. He was quiet now, listening. “I would ask what kinds of things you're talking about."
"Several things,” Caleb answered evenly, “Like vampires or werewolves for example."
His expression gave nothing away and his eyes continued to bore into mine. I kept waiting for the punch line, and when none came, I puckered my face playfully, shaking my head and laughing.
Vampires and werewolves—that's real funny
.
Caleb didn't break and he didn't smile; his face solemnly steadfast.
"You're not serious?” I cocked my head to the side, waiting for him to crack; my laughter and smile slowly abating.
Oh god, he was serious.
"Yes, Emma.” He nodded in the affirmative. “I am."
His eyes remained locked with mine and I couldn't look away, even if I wanted to. I considered what he was telling me. It would explain those things chasing us and why they didn't look like any person or thing I'd ever seen before.
"So what are they...those.” I hesitated, struggling for words. “Those things...” My voice trailed off.
Those things with teeth like a piranha.
"They are not vampire, not truly.” Caleb's voice lowered, a raw anger filtering past. “But they are still dangerous, especially to humans. They are fast, strong, and thirst for blood. They can venture into the sun without any weaknesses."
"Their faces.” I pictured glowing red eyes, completely feral and crazy. “I've never seen anything like that before. And their teeth...” I shivered involuntarily.
"It happens because of what they are, half blood bastards,” Derek chimed in over his shoulder. “True vampires are irresistible to humans. Those freaks are just disposable resources."
I tore my eyes away from Caleb's face and those impossibly blue eyes.
Half blood vampires? Did I really believe that? If I hadn't seen it myself, I wouldn't. But since I had, I couldn't dispute what Caleb was saying.
It made sense, right? They were incredibly fast, keeping pace with a van moving at more than seventy miles per hour. Unless there was a new mutation in the gene pool, it made more sense than anything else I could think of.
"And my Father, where does he fit in with all of this?” It was the one question I wasn't sure I wanted an answer to.
"He wanted to explain himself. But in light of recent events, the more you know, the better,” Caleb answered, finally lowering his brilliant eyes. He turned to Derek and asked, “How close are we to the swap out?"
"Not far. Thirty minutes, maybe less."
The van accelerated and I thrust my hands into the carpet to keep balanced. The sudden movement elicited a loud wince as I reached for my arm, wrapping and pressing firm fingers around the black bandage to ease the dull ache.
"We have to swap out vehicles so they don't know what to look for. After that, we'll clean out your arm, find a safe room, and in the meantime I'll tell you about your Father. Okay?"
Caleb reached forward, touching my knee lightly before retreating.
I considered my options. Turn around and face the creatures we outran, demand they drop me off at the nearest bus stop, or stay and uncover the one thing that managed to elude me my entire life.
It wasn't a difficult decision.
"Okay,” I agreed.
Derek drove around the side of a dilapidated gas station, parking next to a large silver Chevy suburban. He threw the gearshift into park, killing the motor.
Caleb shuffled to the back and yanked on the lever, thrusting the doors wide and obliterating the oppressing darkness. Sunlight poured in and my eyes watered, white speckles clouding my vision.
I stared at the ground and struggled to bring things into focus, blinking rapidly and looking up when my pupils gradually readjusted. Dirt surrounded the antique mechanical gas pumps, covering them in a shimmery red dust. The battered self service sign near the road swayed in the breeze, creaking with each gust of fresh wind.
A door slammed, heavy footsteps followed, and Derek appeared from the front, swiping at his shirt. He appeared older than me, but not by much, and though slightly shorter, he was built equally as impressive as Caleb.
Broad shoulders were wide and muscular, his frame equally stocky. Tan skin was accentuated by warm chocolate eyes and blond hair that was clipped too close to his head. He was wearing the same clothing too—black t-shirt, blue jeans, and combat boots.