Stefan (Lost Nights Series Book 1) (17 page)

“Total obedience to your master.”

Vanko moved too fast for me to react. He closed the distance between us and grabbed me by the front of my blood-stained shirt before throwing me across the room and into the opposite wall. Just as I was starting to get my bearings about me, he was there in front of me again. The back of his hand crashed against my cheek, snapping my head around with enough force that I saw spots before my eyes.

The beating continued as he knocked me around the room. The force of my body slamming against the walls dented and crumbled drywall. Wood groaned and creaked beneath me, bemoaning the abuse it suffered under my crashing frame.

If anything, the lesson was that I now knew that I felt pain the same as I had as a human. The only difference was that I healed quickly allowing me to take on more damage before I finally broke.

“Now...” Vanko said heavily, sounding as if he were winded from his instruction. He bent down and grabbed me by my upper arms so that I was dangling in front of him. “When your master tells you to do something, you immediately do it. No questions. No arguments.”

My entire body ached from a mix of bruised organs and broken bones. My mind was a maelstrom of hate and pain, but two things remained clear through it all — this bastard could beat me all he wanted but he was not my master and I sure as hell wasn’t going to kill some innocent girl just so he could claim control over me.

“Fuck you,” I bit out through the pain.

Vanko growled with frustration and threw me. My limp body crashed into the wooden table we’d sat at the previous night. The table collapsed under my weight and I fell in a tangle of broken pieces.

A snarl from my maker was my only warning that he was about to resume my beating and that his temper was likely at its breaking point. Fear gripped me and thought froze in my mind. It was probably the thing that saved me. He couldn’t read my mind because there were no thoughts to read. I was just a ball of terror and a will to survive. Rolling onto my back, I snatched up one of the broken legs and moved to hold it before me, anything to keep back my attacker. I brought the stick up just as Vanko was lunging forward to grab me. He impaled himself on the broken table leg, the point driving straight through his chest into his heart.

A look of surprise crossed his face as he stared down at the table leg I was still holding in my hands. And then life simply slipped out of him. His body went limp and his eyes closed while his entire body weight came to bear down on the table leg. I pushed the leg, throwing him off me while I quickly crab-walked backward, putting some distance between myself and the corpse.

Great. I hoped this wasn’t a sign for what my future was going to be like. I’d been a nightwalker for less than twenty minutes and I’d killed two people. To make matters worse, one of those people was my maker. I might not know shit about being a vampire or their society, but I had a feeling that killing the vampire who turned you was probably a bad thing. A really bad thing.

A frightened whimper drew my attention from my own tortured thoughts back to the child cowering in the corner. She certainly wasn’t having the best night. Kidnapped and then forced to watch as one person beat the shit out of another, leaving her to assume that she was next in line for a beating or death.

Wincing against the lingering pain in my ribs, I slowly pushed to my feet and walked over to the girl, still trying to move as slowly as possible so as not to frighten her more. But when I got within a few feet of her, she screamed in terror and held up her hands as if to ward me off. She was saying something, but I couldn’t understand her. I didn’t know the language.

I stepped back and looked down at my hands, trying to think of some way to calm her when I saw the blood that had dried there. It was only then that I remembered that I was still covered in Otto’s blood. There had been nothing careful about my feeding on his neck. I’d torn into him like a deranged animal, getting his blood down my face and throat until it soaked into my shirt. It was on my hands from where I’d held him and I could only guess as to where else it had flowed.

To this child, I was just as much of a monster as Vanko and I had to wonder if she was right. I’d killed two people in a matter of minutes and before becoming a nightwalker I’d never hurt a soul. Hell, I wouldn’t even kill a spider in my apartment. I always caught them and carried them outside to be released. Both deaths were accidents, but even as I muttered those words in my head, they didn’t ring true. I hadn’t intended to kill Otto, but then I hadn’t actually thought about attacking him either. And Vanko… what had I been intending to do with the table leg if not kill him?

Sighing, I stepped back from the girl and just watched her, trying to figure out what to do. She needed to get out of here. She needed to be returned to her home where she would be safe and taken care of. She was only going to die from exposure in this cold, drafty house. I also needed to get out of here and figure out….

And that’s where all my plans and intentions left me. What was I going to do next? I was a nightwalker now. It wasn’t like I could return to my old life. Then what? What was I supposed to do with myself? Hell, I didn’t know how to take care of myself. How frequently did I need to feed? Stefan said he needed to feed only every few weeks so long as he wasn’t injured. But then he was over a thousand years old. Did that mean I needed to feed several times a night? Or at the very least, once a night?

What about daylight? Was it lethal to me? I was guessing yes since the nightwalkers had that nice little underground lair they stayed in during the day. But could I be up and moving around so long as I stayed out of sunlight?

I glared at Vanko’s corpse, feeling somewhat disappointed that he hadn’t disappeared in a poof of dust like staked vampires did in the movies. No, he just laid there rotting. It was becoming glaringly obvious why new vampires didn’t kill their makers. Without your maker, you didn’t know shit and you could very easily get yourself killed for good if you weren’t careful.

Staying here certainly wasn’t a great option since my only source of food was a sick girl and my run through the woods the previous day had proven that other people weren’t exactly close. No, I needed to get moving and the best choice seemed to be a return to Venice. There were other nightwalkers in the city of canals who might be able to help me. It would also give me the opportunity to find out why I’d been framed for murder and then kidnapped. While Vanko might have been in possession of me, I really doubted that he was the one pulling all the strings. I never saw him at the Coven meeting hall and Stefan had certainly never mentioned him. No, I was willing to bet my new undead life that someone else had arranged for my kidnapping and had just given the job of turning me to Vanko.

Chapter 13

Slowly backing out of the parlor, I quickly searched the house for a bathroom and immediately wished I hadn’t when I located one of the second floor. It was small, dark room of mold and dirt. The two faucets in the sink were coated in rust and more rust stained the porcelain sink. Disgusting as it was, it would serve my purpose.

Of course, it wasn’t the state of the bathroom that really bothered me. It was my reflection in the cracked mirror over the sink. I hadn’t actually expected to have a reflection in the first place. This nightwalker shit wasn’t exactly matching up with what all the movie and books showed.

My face was covered in blood and my hair was frizzy and standing on end with bits of dirt and leaves stuck in the strands. My clothes were also blood and dirt stained from my most recent adventures. No wonder the girl didn’t want to go anywhere near me. I looked like a monster from a fairy tale.

Leaning close, I’d noticed that the turn had changed the color of my eyes slightly so that they were no longer a mossy hazel green, but a bright, almost electric green. I lifted my upper lip to look at my fangs. They weren’t overwhelming, which was a relief. It was unlikely someone was going to notice them if they weren’t looking for them. Unfortunately now that people knew vampires were real, they were always looking for fangs. It didn’t matter. They looked incredibly sharp, which would be a help.

With a disgusted sighed, I twisted the knob for the cold water. The loud screech of the rusted handle echoed through the silent house. After nearly a minute, the water finally turned from a reddish-brown to mostly clear, allowing me to splash it on my face. The pink water drained away down sink and I started to look more myself. Except more. Another glance in the mirror revealed that my skin wasn’t frighteningly pale yet, but then that probably came after years of not seeing the sunlight. However, my skin was pristine. Not a mark, bump, or blemish in sight. The color was even too. At least I’d never have to worry about foundation again.

Returning to the ground floor, I quickly searched Vanko’s body for the car keys, but came up empty handed, not that I was overly surprised. Maybe he didn’t drive. If he’d been born before the invention of the automobile, he might not have gotten around to learning. At least, that had been the excuse of my great-grandfather. I gave the girl a quick look, reassuring myself that she hadn’t moved, before I returned to the basement and searched Otto. Luck finally shined on me as I found the keys in the first pocket I tried.

The problem was the girl. Standing before her waving the keys, I said home in six different languages, which was probably a sad commentary on my own life since I only spoke two languages with a modicum of fluency. Unfortunately, she was either too afraid of me or I didn’t hit a word close enough to whatever she spoke. Damn it, I wish Vanko had told me where the hell I was before I’d killed him. Or I wish that he hadn’t been such a damn asshole so that I hadn’t been forced into killing him to save my own ass.

Gripping the keys tightly in one hand, I stared down at the child. What about mind control? Stefan had said he could read minds and erase memories. Mira had also hinted that nightwalkers could control humans with their minds. Shouldn’t I be able to do that? Or was that something that came with time and age as well? Damn it! This wasn’t good. I really needed to find someone who could teach me a few things, because I really doubted there was a wiki out there that could help me.

I shoved the keys in the front pocket of my jeans and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the girl. Laying my hands relaxed on my knees and I drew in a deep breath even though I didn’t need it. With my focus directed on her head, I concentrated on getting into her thoughts. I imagined a door before me and opening the door into her mind. Nothing happened. I imagined a window. A cave opening. A vast dark forest. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

I really was the world’s worst vampire.

Groaning, I dropped my head into my hands while resting my elbows on my knees. I just wanted her to stand up and walk to the car so that we could leave. It couldn’t be simpler than that. In my mind, I could see her standing and walking calmly across the room to the front door.

A scrape of movement had my head popping up and my mouth falling open. The girl had pushed unsteadily to her feet and was now slowly walking toward the entrance to the parlor. Her expression was empty and there was a frightening glazed look in her eyes as if no one was home. Holy shit! I’d managed to implant a command. A part of me wished I knew how the hell I’d done it, but I wasn’t about to question my good luck. The night hours were dwindling away with each passing second. I needed to get this child somewhere safe and I needed to find a new hiding spot of my own against the rising sun.

Running ahead of the girl, I unlocked the doors and opened one of the back doors so that she could climb in. With her settled, I climbed in the driver’s seat and fired up the engine. I was back in control. At the end of the long drive, I closed my eyes and tried to pull up the memory of when I arrived at this place. I’d felt the car turn left. Pulling the wheel to the right, I murmured a soft little prayer that I was heading toward a town. A quick glance at the fuel gauge revealed that the car was sitting on less than half a tank. The idiots who took me had to have left enough fuel in the car to get to another gas station, so we couldn’t be too far.

We hadn’t gotten far when I discovered that I apparently couldn’t hold whatever trance I’d managed to put the young girl in and drive the car. Her crying resumed after a short scream of surprise. I at least had the good sense to hit the automatic lock button while she curled up in a ball in the back seat. I wasn’t willing to bet that the car had child locks on it, but the locks would at least slow her down a little.

At first, I tried talking to her, but she didn’t understand a word of what I was saying and if she was smart, she wouldn’t believe a word of it even if she could understand me. When I finally grew tired of listening to her cry, I turned on the radio and flipped through the stations, hoping to hear something familiar. I still didn’t recognize a damn thing anything the announcers were saying, but I finally tripped over a station that played American music. It wasn’t my style, but at least I understood it. By the second song, I noticed that the young girl had stopped crying and was watching me in the rearview mirror. Pointing to the radio, I gave her a closed-lipped smile and said, “Good?”

She hesitated for a second before wrinkling her nose and sticking her tongue out as she shook her head. A laugh escaped me. Yeah, I couldn’t understand a word she said, but I could understand that. She was right. The music was crap, even if I could understand it. Reaching forward, I turned the station until I found more music and then looked at her in the mirror to find her shaking her head again. We kept trying until she finally gave me a tentative smile and a nod. The music appeared to be regional and I couldn’t understand it, but it had a good beat.

To my surprise, we drove along the ribbon of lonely highway for nearly a half hour before we saw the lights of a town. I pulled off on the exit ramp and tried to keep a close eye on the girl while still safely navigating the thickening traffic. At this slow speed she might be tempted to simply jump out of the car and get herself hit by traffic. But to my surprise, she stayed put.

I drove slowly through town, unable to read the signs posted, but just trying to stay with the flow of heavy traffic. Fifteen minutes later, I located what looked to be a somewhat busy shopping area. It probably wasn’t anywhere near where she lived, but at least she’d be able to find someone who could understand her and help. I was useless.

Pulling the car over to the side of the road just on the outskirts of the square, I parked the car and glanced up at the girl in the mirror. She looked utterly confused, her wide gaze darting from me to the square. I wished I could wipe her memory. It wasn’t so much to protect myself, but she’d seen things that were going to haunt her for the rest of her life. There was definitely a blessing in the promise having your memory wiped clean. Ignorance was bliss.

Hitting the unlock button, I watched as her eyes darted to the silver tab as it popped up from the door. I turned in my seat and gave her another close-lipped smile before pointing at her and then the square. “Go.”

She stared at me for several seconds before slowly edging to the door. Placing her hand on the handle, she froze and looked at me. I nodded, trying to look encouraging without scaring her more than she already was. She pulled the handle and the door opened a crack. She waited, as if expecting me to pounce on her at any second. I just smiled.

This time, she darted out of the car, slamming the door behind her as she started to run for the square. She didn’t look back at me as she plunged into the nearest crowd of people. I told myself that she was going to be fine. She’d find help. Hell, if I didn’t get out of there soon, she’d tell the cops exactly where to find me and that wouldn’t do me a bit of good.

Throwing the car back into drive, I pulled into traffic and headed back out of the city and onto the highway.

There was no plan. I didn’t know where I was or where I was even going. My only thought was to get away from where I’d dropped the girl so I couldn’t be caught for kidnapping or murder. I’d already been down that road and Stefan wasn’t here to get here to get me out of jail again. Of course, that was assuming that I was in a country that viewed vampires as people. There were a few that regarded them as animals. As such, people were permitted to shoot them on sight.

The miles rolled by and I welcomed the blissful numbness that settled over my mind. Too much had happened in a short span of time. Kidnapped, murdered, turned into a nightwalker, and the murder of two people by my own hands. Was this all because I’d chosen to be with Stefan? The emptiness was a gift.

But as the night wasted away, a growing panic started to push aside the numb. I needed to find shelter, somewhere safe I could spend the daylight hours. But I didn’t know where I was and I’d driven too far to turn back to Vanko’s house. All around me were barren fields still trying to shake off the grip of winter and small scatterings of trees.

When I at last came to a town, I pulled off. There had to be something somewhere. An abandoned house. An old unused warehouse. Anything that would offer protection from the sun’s rays. I wandered down street after street, searching for anything that might serve when I finally stumbled across the most cliché of options. Pulling over by the entrance to the large graveyard, I let myself succumb to the hysterical laugh that bubbled up. Stefan would have laughed at the irony of it. Or been insulted. Sometimes there was no telling what he’d find humorous, but his reaction was always amusing.

Getting a hold of myself, I put the car back into drive and continued for a few more blocks before parking the car along a lonely, empty street filled with dark, rundown houses. If the police managed to track the car back to the kidnapping, I certainly didn’t want it to be anywhere near where my daytime resting spot was.

With my hands shoved in the pockets of my jeans, I wandered down the street, marveling at the fact that I wasn’t cold despite the frost gilding the grass and parked car windows white. Stefan was right in that I was aware that it was cold, but the frigid temperature had lost its painful bite. Jack Frost had been de-clawed.

At the graveyard entrance, I paused and looked around to be sure that no one was watching me, but the area was empty. I shouldn’t have been surprised. It was after four in the morning and the city was still snuggled in its warm bed. Or rather, the humans were still asleep. The nightwalkers were another story.

The graveyard resembled most graveyards I’d know in my short lifespan. It was filled with row after row of marble and granite headstones. Bare-limbed trees dotted the landscape as if watching over the occupants moldering and decaying underground. A tall iron fence ringed the cemetery, warning away the curious with its spark spikes. After some more wandering, I finally located a small crypt toward the back of the graveyard, half hidden behind the massive boughs of some pine trees. It took a few tries but I managed to break the padlock and force open the door with a loud screech of rusted metal. The air was stale and dusty. Inside the crypt was a lone stone sarcophagus with the name Isaac Polenta chiseled along with the dates February 1804 – June 1881. At least he’d lived a long life.

Pushing the door closed, I shut myself in the utter darkness and yet I could still see. Faint light trickled through a trio of small, narrow stained glass windows depicting the Virgin Mother in prayer. I could clearly see the stone tomb and the uneven placement of the stones on the floor as if a light were shining overhead. It made me think that every time Stefan and I had laid in bed, whispering in the dark, he’d been able to see me, to see every expression that crossed my face.

A sigh slipped from me as I sank to the floor and leaned my back against the tomb. What the hell was I going to do? I was a freaking vampire. What did that mean? For my life? If I went back to the United States, I didn’t think I’d be able to go back to my old job. Or maybe I could. I worked alone. I lived alone. I could travel exclusively at night and schedule all my Skype meetings after sunset. I didn’t have to tell anyone I was a vampire. Sure, I’d probably have to admit it after a decade or so when people started to notice that I wasn’t aging, but by then laws for vampires might have actually improved.

Was I in total denial?
Completely.

But it sounded viable until I started to consider that I’d have to interact with other nightwalkers. The murder in Venice still needed to be solved. And I was determined to discover why I’d been kidnapped in the first place and by whom.