Chapter 47 #3
Ethan grinned. “I had to make sure you were safe.”
“Consider yourself lucky he didn’t come running with his sword out,” Monique laughed and seemed, for a brief moment, both beautiful and personable.
“Brother, as much as I would like a full description of your abilities.” Michael clapped Ethan on the shoulder. “It might pay to focus on the job at hand.”
I closed my eyes and went back in. One car left.
Taillights glinting in the dark. Then the brake lights sliced through the black, catching the shimmer of what looked like a V below the back window.
I peered in, trying to focus on the plate.
Mostly it was a blur, like the black climbing in from a dying TV screen; only a faint glow was visible, but I could make out two numbers. I opened my eyes.
“It was a dark-colored car, two and four I think were last two numbers. Or maybe the two was a seven, or a nine.” I grimaced. “Sorry, I couldn’t see anything else. Tinted windows, newish model, maybe a Volvo. It went right.”
“I’ll call Matt,” Ethan said, “and see what he can dig up.” He flashed upstairs.
“Anything else, Amelia?” Karson asked, bluntly.
I closed my eyes and looked for someone with even a skerrick of blood on them after, someone acting suspicious. I found nothing. Frustrated, I opened my eyes. Ethan was back. They were all looking at me expectantly.
“There was a brunette flirting with him at the bar before I went over, she may have asked him outside? But nothing else that points to anyone.” I sigh. “What did Matt say?”
“He’s halfway through the list of guests. He’s seeing what he can find out and will call us. If it was a Volvo it shouldn’t be too hard to trace.”
“It might be a hire car, most the guests were from out of town,” Michael said.
With the image of Jefferson still jarring my mind, I needed a drink.
I asked if anyone else wanted one, when no one did I went to the kitchen.
I took the wine bottle out of the cupboard and glanced out at the egg-shaped moon.
It bathed a silent landscape in a lucid glow, giving no hint to the horror it had bared witness to a few short hours earlier.
I could hear them talking from the sitting room, but it was hushed.
Whatever they were saying they didn’t want me to hear.
I was the outsider. I hadn’t fit in with the human race, how could I expect to fit in with vampires?
Still, being excluded hurt. I poured the wine, took a few large gulps and topped the glass up.
I went back to the lounge. An uncomfortable quiet fell over the room.
“What else do you think might be on the laptop, Ethan?” Hurt changed gears to annoyance. “They are hardly likely to keep evidence of murder on there if they did it. What are you looking for that you aren’t you telling me?”
He didn’t answer, Karson did. “When you need to know we will tell you, until that time it’s best you don’t know. We will need to question the boy, see if he knows anything.” Karson directed that comment to Ethan.
“Surely you don’t mean Chris? He just lost his father,” I exclaimed, seating myself down on the armchair.
“He may have information we need.”
“Karson,” I implored, “it's basic human decency, he’s grieving, you have no right to just barge in and throw questions at him."
He sat his glass on the shelf and rolled up the sleeves on his shirt. “Ah, but I’m not human, Amelia, or did you forget?” Oh, the arrogance.
“Brian wouldn’t want his son questioned,” I gritted out, “at least allow him the space to deal with his pain.”
“Oh, you’re on a first name basis now are you? He throws a few corny pickup lines at you and suddenly you want to protect his son.”
"Corny pickup lines don’t work on me, or did you forget?" I shot back.
Michael huffed out a short, surprised laugh.
Karson took one step toward me. He barely closed the gap between us, but his threat froze me to the spot. And he knew it I could see the apprehension, because a sense of smug satisfaction cross his face.
I lifted my chin. “You can stop with your ‘I’m a scary vampire’ bullshit. It doesn’t work on me either.”
I was seated with a glass of wine in my hand, and then I wasn’t.
Instead I was rushing through the air. My stomach lurched as though I was on a fast ride.
The air whipped past my ears, my vision was an explosive blur of light.
I barely had time to let out a startled cry, before I came to an abrupt halt, and he had me pinned against the wall.
Shocked, I dropped the glass. It fell and popped like a glass balloon, merlot and shards scattered across the floor, and crept over my bare feet. My breath stuttered in my chest. Had the glass cut me?
Karson loomed above me. His hands clutched to my arms. My muscles tightened and quivered. His face was inches from mine, fangs caught by the hallway light, glittered like knife blades.
Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled.
My heart raced. My legs felt like rubber. The air swelled in my hot, dry throat.
His voice was threatening, vicious, turning my blood stone cold. “You think I won’t hurt you, Amelia. Do not push me, or you will find out just how scary I can be.”
It felt as if the room crushed in all around us. I was terrified, yes, but the anger rushed up my veins, heating my skin, my stomach and my head. Until I was so angry my vision departed for a few moments before it rushed back to the lethal glint of his fangs.
“Do it, then,” I shouted, “do it, Karson! Go on, get it over and done with. You want to bite, fucking bite.” I jerked my head to the side, yanking my hair back revealing my neck and the wild beat of my pulse.
“Karson,” Ethan’s voice sounded remarkably like a bitter snarl, or maybe he did actually snarl? It was hard to be certain beneath the sounds of my own heart thudding in my head. “Let. Her. Go.”
I twisted my face back. Ethan had his hand pushed on Karson’s chest. Their faces were set like steel.
Eyes as black as cave holes, barren of any shreds of humanity.
Shiny white razors protruded from their curled lips.
Gone were the two devastatingly charming men I knew and, in their place, were two lethal creatures perched on the edge of battle.
My knees weakened, I tightened my leg muscles to keep them from collapsing. I shook violently. I couldn’t stop the shaking.
“Well, this is interesting,” Monique drawled.
Michael was up and tense, appraising the situation, but he made no effort to intervene.
I was scared if they fought Ethan would get hurt.
I was desperate to divert their attention away from each other.
I did the only think I could think of. I called Karson’s bluff.
Ninety-five percent of bullies folded. He would fold, I told myself.
Even though a voice, as sharp as it was fearful, told me vampires were excluded from that rule.
“Either do it, you arrogant, barbaric asshole,” I said between clenched teeth, “or let me go.” Then I held my breath, and I prayed he chose the latter.
The seconds felt like minutes. Boom, boom, boom.
Blood pumped through my head. Swallowed by the power of them, I felt remarkably small and vulnerable.
Not quite as helpless as a prisoner strapped to the bed in an execution chamber, but near enough.
Sweat slithered down my back. I couldn’t fight.
It would be pointless. I could only hold my ground.
So I did. I stared at him, enraged and desperately afraid and waited for what felt like an eternity.
His eyes explored mine as if he was digging into the furthest reaches of my mind and he was not quite able to uncover the mysterious dialogue of some ancient civilisation.
With a grimace, and what I thought looked like regret on his face, he took a step back and in a blur of speed he was back by the fireplace.
I exchanged glances with Ethan. His eyes were dark, furious lakes, and they were directed firmly at me.
My gut twisted so tight it pushed my heart up into my throat. Glass was everywhere, I didn’t dare move, even though every instinct told me to flee.
“Move her, Ethan,” Karson ordered on a thick, annoyed breath.
The black in Ethan’s eyes inverted and threaded inwards and they went back to midnight blue. Now he looked at me with what looked like a concoction of frustration, an apology, and seeking permission.
“Just do it,” I snapped.
He placed his hands around my waist and lifted me up, like I weighed no more than a doll.
Glass tumbled off my feet and clinked to the floor.
He placed me down on the stairs. Humiliated, boiling with fury, I stormed up the stairs to the sounds of Monique's laughter.
The hallway light flickered and blew with a loud snap as I passed, as if the energy of my anger penetrated its fragile opaque shell.
Perfect timing.
I wished Monique's head was that light.
“Well, I do believe you may have finally met your match, Karson.” Michael’s voice was full of humour, fading as I exited the stairs.
If only it were true, despite my attempts I knew I was no match for him. The tears of humiliation, rage and helplessness slipped down my cheeks. I slammed the door so hard the pictures on my bedroom wall shook. I fell down on the bed.
I was caught in a strange world I couldn’t understand, beset with indifference to brutality and violence.
I stared up at the ceiling. But worse than that, I found myself feeling just like I had my whole life.
Feeling like I didn’t belong, lost. I might as well have been in a cave, fumbling my way through an endless dark without a torch, with no idea of which direction the light lay in.
I was overcome with a sense of loneliness, it coiled around my heart and squeezed so tight it was almost unbearable.
Shattered by the events of the night, I cried myself to sleep.