The Dark Proposal (The Claire McCormick Trilogy) (20 page)

For the next hour, Claire sat on the floor, against the wall, underneath one of the old paintings Daniel owned. It was that of a naked woman reaching for the shining heavens while devils grabbed and pulled her toward hell. Claire felt like that woman. She was naked in her emotions in front of two devilish creatures who were forcing her into darkness.
 

She didn’t say anymore to Hilde and Michel; she just stared straight ahead, speaking in her heart to her niece. She told Ava she was sorry she caused her death, that she foolishly thought she could outwit a group of demons, and she only did what she thought was best to save her and herself. Somehow, there had to be a way for Ava to hear her aunt’s voice, wherever she was.

A turn of the lock made her flinch and the two vampires muted the TV. Daniel then walked in looking slightly tired. He ran his hand through his shoulder length hair in an aggravated manner as he closed the door behind him. He then turned to face the other three.

Nodding, he said, “It’s been done.”

“You found the place with no problem?” Hilde stood up.

“It took a while, but I did find it,” Daniel looked at Claire, who still sat against the wall. Pointing his chin at her, he said, “How’s she been?”

“Whiny. Tempestuous. Everything you would expect.” Hilde took slow steps over to him. “I highly suggest you do the deed now.”

Daniel paused while Claire felt nothing. She could be transformed or die a thousand deaths, and nothing would stop the guilt and loss she was experiencing.

He looked at her, tightened his lips and then shook his head. “No. No, I can’t have her go back to her apartment to get her things looking like she will. Her roommates will be very suspicious.”

Hilde’s eyes widened. “Daniel! It is best to do it now! What if she does something else? You know how stupid she is.”

“Yes, I know,” he kept looking at Claire, who’s face remained blank and eyes barely blinking. “But this is tricky. There are people in her life. We’ve got to stick to the plot and cannot afford a slip-up. Besides, Casames wouldn’t allow the transformation without meeting her.”

“I’m in agreement here,” Michel spoke up. “Casames would be livid. Also, it’s not like we should go after her two friends, unless it gets to that point.” If that last part was meant to be a jibe in her heart, Claire didn’t show it.
 

Hilde let out an irritated sigh. “Fine, do what you like.”

Daniel nodded and walked over to Claire. He stopped a few feet away from her, waiting for a response or reaction. Deciding to go along with everything, she got to her feet and said, “Should I go home, or stay here until morning?”

“You have work tomorrow, don’t you?” he said.

“In the afternoon, like always. And I’m giving my notice then.”

“Good. Then I’ll take you to the ferry.” He reached to put his arm around her shoulders. Claire expected some outrage from Hilde, but the vampire simply sat on the arm of the couch, arms folded with a sturdy eye on the couple. She didn’t do or say anything as the two left the apartment.

In the cab, Claire and Daniel were silent, as if they had gotten into another fight. As the cab pulled up at the terminal, she turned to him and tried to be as icy with her gaze as the vampires had been. “Whatever happens, don’t expect me to ever forgive you.”

“Don’t expect me to hold it against you,” he replied and ran a finger through her hair. She pulled away, sneered and got out of the car.

The ride home was a battle for her to either remain calm or lapse into a panic attack. Her niece was likely dead. And it was her fault. Daniel had warned her about suffering coming to her if she dared to refuse his proposal. Now she had rebelled against him. All she wanted was to break free of the life of killing, loneliness, and darkness she would face for who knew how long. It was an understandable, natural thing to do. Wasn’t that forgivable?

She sunk her head low into her chest as the soft sobs began. No, it was not forgivable. She could never forgive herself for what happened to dear little Ava.

CHAPTER TEN

Claire could have slept for hours the next morning since the weight of guilt had worn her out. But she found herself awake at half past nine, after seven hours of sleeping. She had aches all over her body as though she had the flu. How she wished she had that, so she could stay in bed all day and not face the world.

But she wasn’t sick and therefore had to go on with her day. After showering and dressing, she had coffee and yogurt for breakfast. She was alone in the apartment as Monica was substituting again and Samantha was on another job interview. They were planning to go to Theresa Palermo’s wake in the evening, but Claire was not sure if she should show her face there. She knew too much of Theresa’s murder and going to see her in her casket would cause too much guilt.

She was watching a marathon of her favorite reality show when her phone suddenly buzzed. She put the carton of yogurt on the coffee table and picked it up. Sure enough, it was from Daniel. She could picture him cowering in a dark corner, avoiding the sunlight so it wouldn’t fatigue him.

After you give your notice, come home and start packing. I’ve made our plans for Paris this Saturday, right after finals.

 
Saturday. She was going to be a vampire much sooner than expected. No Christmas with her family. No saying farewell. Besides, everyone would be in anguish and agony over Ava.

Then she frowned. Why hadn’t anyone called her about her niece? Surely by now someone would have told her. Zachary and Kristina got up at 7:30 AM, so they certainly would have seen their baby girl dead. And then they would have called their parents and in-laws, who would have called Claire. Something was off.

A growing smirk on her face, she texted back to Daniel:

Ava is still alive. I’m amazed you had the heart not to do anything to her.

Claire waited. There was no response.
 

As she analyzed what Daniel could be thinking, she realized she had likely angered him again. What could he do to her now in retaliation?

Shaking her head, Claire got herself ready for work. She put on her coat and her shoulder bag, locked up the apartment, and headed to the bus stop for the brief ride to Richmond College.
 

When she arrived at the English department office, she saw the chairwoman Laura Matthews standing near Nancy’s desk, her hands clutching her heart, hysteria written all over her face. Seeing Claire walk in seemed to snap her out of her state of mind.

“My God, Claire, what are you doing here?” she exclaimed.

“What?” she blurted out, frightened by the chairwoman’s panic. “What’s going on?”

“Didn’t you hear? Nancy was murdered last night!”
 

Claire had thought her heart could not plummet or her breathing could stop again, but both did occur. Her body still reacted as if each terror was new, and there was no way she could physically get used to it.

She was frozen for a few seconds until she started shaking her head violently. “No,” she whispered. Then she began to repeat that word louder and louder until she placed her hands over her ears to prevent the screaming from hurting them. In response, the chairwoman reached over to hold her, but Claire pulled away.

“This can’t be happening!” she said. “What happened?”

“Her husband was putting the garbage out and when he got back inside, she was on the bedroom floor, her throat slashed! Just like Colin Willis!”

Claire grabbed the office doorway to prevent from fainting. So, Daniel got the department secretary, someone who had always eyed him with suspicion and disdain. She wondered if he long planned to get Nancy before deciding last night was a good time. Claire’s heart filled with the gnawing of regret, knowing how things went sour with Nancy before Daniel revealed who he was. Before that, they had gotten along fine, almost like mother and daughter. It was Nancy who warned her about Daniel like a mother should. She listened to her complaints about school, complaints about finding a job after graduation, but also brightened her days with her pleasant personality. Nancy was always there for her.

Then she voiced her suspicions and Claire decided to not pay attention to them. And now she was gone, done in by the very person she rightfully was never sweet to.

Claire was lost in her thoughts when she realized Laura was going on about a serial killer targeting the English department and who it could be and why. She wanted to tell the chairwoman everything about Daniel, but it was so obvious more death would come, and Ava would be next. There was no hope, no way out for Claire.
 

All she could say in a detached voice, “I can’t come back here anymore.”

Laura stopped rambling and looked at her through distant eyes. “What?”

“I can’t come back here,” Claire repeated. “That’s it. I’m quitting. I don’t feel safe here anymore. Without Nancy, nothing will be the same. Laura, I’m sorry, but I can’t be here anymore!”

Laura was about to place her hand on her shoulder, perhaps out of understanding, but Claire quickly turned around, calling her good-byes over her shoulder and fled the building and the campus. She didn’t want to look back. Her four years at Richmond College were done, in bloodshed.

Home was an hour away on foot, but Claire had the numbness to walk the whole way. Shoulder bag hanging from her limp hand, dragging on the ground, Claire felt like she had died already. Nancy was dead. Colin Willis was dead. Theresa Palermo was dead, too. She knew who had done it and why.
 

Slamming the front door behind her when she got home and leaning against it, Claire heavily exhaled. She began to wonder if she should start screaming so she could let out her anguish. Samantha was not yet home, so that was a plus. But what would happen if she came home to see her roommate screaming? Samantha would be certain Claire had lost her mind.

Her phone suddenly buzzed the arrival of a text message. She dug through her bag to retrieve it, using whatever hope left in her that Samantha was telling her she was on her way home and how her interview went. But she saw the number and that fragile hope collapsed.

Guess Nancy didn’t matter to you that much if you didn’t think I had her in mind.

Her hand went limp and it dropped the phone onto the floor. She didn’t care if she damaged it. Her cage was thickening.
 

She went to her room and curled into a ball on her bed. The sobs couldn’t come fast enough, so she tried to force them out. Doing so tore at her throat, but that didn’t matter. Her world was falling apart and there was no way out.
 

The real sobs finally came, and they were pouring out of her when Samantha came skipping home. She was barely inside when she began telling Claire about her interview. “Oh my God, my interview went great! I really think I’ll get a follow-up! Woo-hoo! No more bartending!”

Claire let out a loud sniffle and Samantha came running into her room. Her jaw dropped at the sight of Claire weeping.
 

“Oh no, what happened? What’s going on?”

Claire lifted her head and told her about Nancy.

“Holy shit, no way! Not another person dead!” Samantha climbed on the bed next to her, and held her tightly. “This is too much. First that professor, then Theresa, now Nancy? What is going on?”

“I don’t know, Sam, I just don’t know. My world is falling apart,” she choked. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be,” Samantha squeezed her. “I mean, I know you can’t feel any other way. But don’t think you’re next or anything.”

Little does she know, Claire thought.
 

A minute passed before Samantha asked about Daniel and if he knew.

“He does. I already spoke to him.” Claire choked heavily and began coughing. Her friend patted her arm until she calmed down as much as she could. She then went to make her some tea, which Claire wasn’t so sure if she could swallow.
 

When Samantha came back with the large cup, she sat up and told her, “I really don’t want to go to Theresa’s wake today.”

“Understandable.” Samantha handed her the cup and Claire sipped delicately at it. “I take it you won’t go to Nancy’s?”

“Probably not. I’m so sick of all this death.”

The two sat there, talking about who could possibly be committing all the murders. It was Samantha who pointed out that that they all seemed connected to Claire, because she knew all of the victims. That made her shake a little.

“I didn’t even think of it that way,” Claire said. “Maybe that’s all a coincidence?”

“Maybe,” Samantha said. She then left Claire alone to gather herself.

But Claire felt like throwing the cup of tea against the wall. Anger was gaining momentum inside of her. When Samantha pointed out the connections of the murders, it lit a spark in her that she did not want to suppress. Depression was said to be anger suppressed, and she was no longer depressed.
 

But what could she do? If she lashed out, Daniel would only kill another person in her life. He may even change his mind and give her to the Brothers as a slave. She couldn’t even call to confront him. He was mentally torturing her, and there was no way out. As she remembered this, she felt her anger subside, turning into depression, weighing heavily on her heart and soul. This was a form of death. When the heart and soul is suppressed, you die in a sense. Daniel was killing her in more ways than one. The sobs arose again and Claire bent from the waist to cry until her throat was raw.

The next day, Claire was in the backseat of her parents’ sedan, driving over to a restaurant for lunch. She had called them the previous night, telling them about Nancy’s murder, and asked them to come to Staten Island for the day. Yes, she did want their comfort, but she also had to tell them she was moving in with Daniel - something she knew would infuriate them.
 

As they drove to the same place where she first introduced them to Daniel - it was their favorite eatery on the Island - her parents asked her if she wanted to go back to New Jersey.