Chapter 21 She Was Thirteen
She Was Thirteen
Iheard them murmur and cry out in their sleep a few times.
But the children were still fast asleep every time I checked on them.
I got up before the sun rose, made coffee, and moved back to the sitting room.
An orange glow from the fire washed over the room, bringing warmth and a cozy peace.
I placed the mug on a side table and lowered myself to the couch, curling my feet under me.
A shadowed figure stalked past the window.
“Fuck,” I breathed, my hand on my heart.
Which was stupid. I needed to learn to put my palms up instinctively; they were useless to me against my chest. It took a moment to register it was just a vampire on patrol.
He was closer to the house than he needed to be; maybe he was sheltering from the rain?
Then a thick vibration slid through to my bones. Vampire close by. I spun back to the shadowed figure at the door.
Shadow Man.
Panic flooded through me. My hands shot up and I pressed back into the couch in the second it took my brain to realize it was Karson. At least I got the hands right this time.
He frowned as he took in my mild overreaction in. “I frightened you.”
A statement not a question, but I answered anyway as my hands went back to my heart. “Jesus, yes, you scared me. I almost threw you.”
“I can see that.” He stared at me silently as he shifted in front of me. His hair was damp but neat, his clothes immaculate; he looked like he was about to step out, not returning. When he spoke his voice was soft, filled with concern. “Has something happened to you at night, Amelia?”
It was weird that a grown adult was scared of the darkness.
He’d never pressed or asked why, until now.
I couldn’t tell him about Shadow Man. He’d featured in my nightmares when I was younger—still visited sometimes.
It would earn me a trip to a psychologist, like it did when I first was taken in by my adoptive parents.
“No.” I untangled my legs, reached for the coffee, and took a sip. “Did you find her?”
I was grateful when he didn’t press further. Instead, he sat down beside me, clasping his hands between his thighs. “Not yet. Lester called though. She murdered the social worker who was responsible for taking her kids from her.”
Horror turned my stomach to slush. That woman was just doing her job, and she killed her. “That’s awful.”
He ran a hand through his dark hair. “We picked up her scent, but with the rain, we lost it.”
I placed the mug down. “Are the foster parents safe?”
“I placed a couple of vampires around their house in case she shows up there.”
“How many vampires do you have here at night?”
“Eight.”
Eight blood-thirsty vampires around children who were accidents waiting to happen. Mostly the vampires were outside, except for Monique, Michael, and Josh … and when the others came in to feed.
“If the children fall and scrape their knees, will Monique, Michael, and the other vampires be able to handle it?”
“We are not monsters, Amelia,” Michael responded, striding into the room. “Children have never been, nor will they ever be, on the menu.”
I cringed, feeling guilty for even thinking they would hurt a child. “Michael, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean …”
He met my apology with a steely gaze. He was within his rights to be annoyed; he’d been nothing but gracious toward me, and he seemed in control of his blood lust. I always felt safe around him.
Karson straightened and his eyes flared with warning at the annoyed vampire. “Michael knows you meant nothing by it. You are just concerned for the children’s well-being, as we all are.”
Michael moved to the end of the room and poured two whiskeys, handing one to Karson.
“I trust you … sorry,” I repeated.
Michael inclined his head, his face relaxing slightly.
“What’s got the witch groveling this morning?” Monique strutted in and stood in front of the fireplace, the orange light dancing around her legs. “Did she kill someone during the night, or knife someone in the back, or my personal favorite, create some wicked spell to disable her victim?”
She took every opportunity to remind Karson what I was and why he shouldn’t be with me.
I bristled. “You don’t need a spell to disable a vampire, you just need a dart filled with enough tranquilizer to knock out an elephant.”
It was a low blow, and it struck.
Monique’s eyes narrowed and darkened until they were black as train tunnels—soulless, devoid of all humanity, chilling. Her lips curled into a snarl, teeth sharp as nails glinting in the dim light. “Why don’t you try to take me down, then?”
A growl, low and deep, rumbled from Karson’s throat. “Touch one single hair on her head, Monique, and it will not be a witch you need to worry about.”
Monique glared at him. “Are you threatening me?”
“It appears so.”
“For the love of creation,” Michael bit out, sounding weary to the bone. “We have threats to face outside these walls without worrying about family being one of them.”
Monique ignored Michael; her focus was on Karson. “You would choose a witch over your own kind?” Her voice cracked—was that tears I saw in her eyes? “Over someone who has been loyal to you, who has treated you like a brother for centuries?”
Karson rose and stalked closer, looming over her. “It is not a choice I want to be forced to make. It is you who keeps this hatred in your heart for a woman who has done nothing to harm you.”
She jutted her chin up, fury still burning in her eyes. Fury and pain. “All witches harm in the end.”
“I don’t want to harm anyone.” I hated how small my voice sounded. “Let alone the man I love and the people he loves … the ones I care for too.” My face burned, realizing what I’d said. God, by declaring I loved him out loud, I’d just made a fool of myself in front of everyone.
Karson stepped back, his attention shifting to the window, as if uncomfortable.
Monique shifted her steely gaze to me. “You’re a born warrior. Your heart is dark, even if you hide it behind smoke and mirrors.”
I was pleased I sounded stronger this time. “You’re a vampire. You know darkness too. It doesn’t make you anything you choose not to be.”
She laughed, but it was bitter. “You say you love him, but if you truly loved him, you’d leave.”
“Enough!” Karson roared so loud I jumped.
“Karson,” Michael said quickly. “I suggest you try to remain calm. We are all tired and our emotions are heightened right now.”
“I suggest you get out of my sight, Monique,” Karson snarled, his white fangs glinting. “Before I show you the darkness I have inside and do something I regret.”
Monique glared at him for a few moments, hurt and fury mingled in her features, then turned and strode from the room. Not before I noticed the tear sliding down her face.
I slumped against the couch. “Why does she hate witches so much?” Me so much.
Karson paced the room, his jaw taut.
Michael sighed deeply and sank to the couch opposite me.
“When Karson discovered Monique, she had been beaten and then stabbed, barely alive. He turned her. She had a little sister, so Karson took her in until Monique was strong enough to handle the drive for blood. She was going to ask Karson to change her as soon as she was old enough.” His voice shifted to something grave.
“Monique was friends with a witch she met while working in a tavern, and she thought she could trust her. In those days, witches actively hunted vampires. The witch told the coven what Monique was, whether by force or willingly, we can’t be sure.
” He shook his head sadly. “But they came looking for Monique and found Sophia. She was only thirteen, she wasn’t a vampire, but they killed her anyway. ”
My chest twisted. “Oh God, that’s horrific.”
He lifted his concerned gaze to Karson, who was staring out of the window, lost to the past torment somewhere.
Michael looked back to me. “We all have stories where we lost people we love to witches, just as witches have stories of losing family and friends to vampires. The war passed many years ago, and for most of your kind the stories of murder and loss are passed down through the generations. But for the immortal souls, the torment and pain still live and breathe inside of us, despite the years that have gone.”
I was a witch who worked in a bar. I must remind Monique of the friend who betrayed her. No wonder she was less than fond of me.
“The witches that committed those crimes are long dead. I would never do anything like that.”
“I know,” Michael responded, “as does Karson. Monique will come around, if you give her time.”
“Will I die of old age before she does?” I tried to lighten the mood.
Michael smiled. “I should hope not.”
Karson swung to look at me, anguish in his eyes.