Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
The atmosphere inside the car weighed heavily with grief.
Vail’s tear-streaked face revealed her anguish as she drove, black smudges of mascara tracing the path of her tears.
Her lips, red from biting them, quivered with suppressed emotions.
I placed my hand on her thigh; Vail squeezed my hand while keeping her eyes fixed ahead.
We trailed Connor’s van, and the clouds overhead parted, tightening a knot in my stomach.
The van came to a halt at the end of a desolate back road.
Vail pulled over, and I held my breath, hoping we were far enough away from Sam and Donovan that they wouldn’t spot us.
They went out, opened the back doors, and pulled out George’s body.
Sam carried his arms, and Donovan took his legs as they trekked through the open field next to the road and unceremoniously discarded his lifeless body in its centre.
“Do you want to do anything?” I asked, noting the anger in Vail’s eyes.
“He’s dead,” she choked out.
The van pulled away, leaving us in a heavy silence. “I can’t leave him like this.” Vail reached for the door handle and opened it, but as she stepped out, golden rays of sunlight broke through the clouds, illuminating the road ahead.
“Vail, the sun!” I said, reaching out to grab her arm. She recoiled, retreating into the car and crawling into the backseat as the warm rays began to heat my own skin through the windows.
Vail lay down and wrapped herself in a blanket, shrouding herself in darkness from the sun.
“Don’t tell me what’s happening,” Vail pleaded through her tears, her voice muffled under the blanket. “I don’t want to know.”
I touched my necklace and watched as the sun reached George’s body, and it became engulfed in orange and yellow flames.
The fire consumed him slowly, burning through his clothes before transforming the rest of his form into dancing embers.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away, as painful as it was to watch.
I had to do this for Vail. I reached back, sliding my hand under the blanket, finding Vail’s delicate hand as I watched for both of us.
After a while, George’s body was nothing but ashes. A gust scattered his ashes into the wind; I wasn’t sure if it was nature or Vail’s magic doing it. I shimmied over to the driver’s seat, started the engine, and turned the car around, driving silently back into town.
The clouds returned, and heavy rain started.
The raindrops, large and relentless, pounded a mournful rhythm on the windshield.
The windshield wipers worked overtime as I drove through the large puddles flooding the streets.
Vail emerged from under the blankets, drawn to the loud sounds of rain pellets hammering on the car’s roof.
She sat up in the back seat, her gaze fixed on the water trailing down the windows.
“Vail, I’m sorry,” I said, my words hanging in the air.
She remained silent.
Ahead, beneath a black umbrella, I spotted Connor walking along the slick sidewalks. My fists clenched around the steering wheel. I didn’t want to see him again, but now, with what happened, I had no choice.
I swerved the car to the side and pulled over. “I’ll be just a minute,” I told Vail, uncertain if she heard me.
I grabbed Connor’s leather jacket from the passenger seat, my fingers tight around the worn leather. I needed to confront him. I was going to get answers. About George. About Donovan and Sam. My blood boiled, and every step I took toward him was fueled by the anger that simmered beneath my skin.
“Connor!” I shouted, and he stopped, turning around and taking out an earbud from one ear. A smile spread across his lips, and for a moment, I almost lost my grip on my anger— his damn dimples.
“Hi,” he said, extending his umbrella to offer me shelter.
“Hi,” I met his gaze through rain-soaked lashes. “I wanted to return this to you. Thanks for lending it to me.”
He took the jacket from me, his fingers brushing mine. He hesitated like he was going to say something else, but I didn’t give him the chance.
“Where are you going?” I asked him.
“Walking to get lunch. Sam borrowed my van for something, so I’m stuck hoofing it in this shitty weather,” he explained.
“Sam borrowed your van?”
“Yeah, not sure exactly what for.” He shrugged, but something in his eyes hinted at a concealed truth.
“One sec,” I said, cutting him off and darting back to Vail’s car.
I tapped on the car’s back window, a warm draft brushing my face as she rolled it down. “Hey, I’m going to grab lunch with Connor and try to get some info on Sam and Donovan. You should head home and rest,” I suggested.
She looked at me, her expression unreadable, but I could feel the weight of her emotions swirling under the surface. “Sure,” she replied, and with that, she climbed into the driver’s seat and peeled off before I could say more.
Momentarily, I regretted leaving Vail alone in such a fragile state, but I quickly shook off my unease and refocused on my mission. I approached Connor, who raised an eyebrow in question.
The rain fell in a relentless downpour, dark clouds casting a shadow over the town as we stood, my clothes already drenched.
“Can I join you for lunch?” I asked, drawing close to him under his umbrella.
“I thought you weren’t interested in going out with me,” he smirked.
“It’s just lunch,” I replied firmly. “And my ride just drove off,” I added, gesturing down the road toward where Vail had departed.
Despite the cold rain, I could feel the warmth radiating from Connor’s body. Our faces were so close that I couldn’t help but notice a small freckle on his upper lip, and I almost reached out to touch it.
“We should get out of this rain,” he suggested, his voice soft amidst the soothing symphony of raindrops on the umbrella. I nodded in agreement, and we made our way to a nearby restaurant seeking refuge from the downpour.
We settled into a secluded booth tucked away in the restaurant’s back corner. The quiet chatter of other humans blended in with the sounds of the stormy rain outside. My damp jeans clung uncomfortably to my skin, and droplets from my jacket formed a small puddle on the floor beneath my chair.
The waiter approached. Connor ordered a burger, and I opted for a salad—a simple choice that would allow me to push it around my plate, pretending to eat while talking.
My thoughts swirled as I replayed the events of the day. Connor’s damp hair clung to his forehead, and I tried to decipher what he was thinking.
We sat there waiting for our meals, and I seized the opportunity to bring up what I came here for.
“Connor, I’ve been meaning to ask you about Donovan and Sam.”
Connor’s eyes met mine, and he hesitated momentarily before asking, “What about them?”
“How well do you know them?”
“Donovan’s one of my best friends and Sam’s my cousin.”
“And you grew up together?”
“Yes, Sam’s parents died when he was young, and my parents adopted him. We were like brothers growing up. But when my parents divorced, it hit Sam hard, and he started staying away from home more often.”
“Why’s that?”
“I think he felt abandoned, like everything was falling apart,” Connor explained, his voice softening. “After the divorce, he thought he didn’t fit in anymore. He started hanging out with some rough crowds.”
“Did you ever try to talk to him?” I asked.
“I did. It took a while, but eventually he came back around. He started playing music, and I think in a way that helped him.”
“So, you’re back to being close again?”
“I wouldn’t say that …” Connor’s expression changed. “We’re adults now, we have our own interests, and sometimes I don’t agree with the things he does.” His expression grew serious as he drank from his glass.
I seized the opportunity to cut to the point. “You mean like killing people?”
Connor choked on the water he was drinking, “Excuse me?” He looked at me in disbelief.
“You said you don’t agree with what Sam does, because he kills people,” I repeated, locking eyes with him. The truth dangled between us on an invisible thread. “Actually, not people. Vampires.” I cut that thread, hesitated, and then glanced around the restaurant as if checking for eavesdroppers.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I saw the weapons in your van, Connor.” I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms, determined to keep the conversation grounded.
He stared at me for a moment before nodding, his expression turning serious.
Our food arrived, and the waiter set down our plates with a clatter. Silence filled the space between us as he left, and Connor turned his focus back to me.
“Sam is my distant cousin. Our grandfathers were brothers. We share a common heritage, but I don’t always agree with his methods,” he explained, a hint of animosity creeping into his voice.
“Sam believes that Vampires killed his parents, while my family insists it was a car crash. Still, my dad taught him the ways. Tradition is important, he always said.”
“So, you’re both Vampire hunters?” I asked.
“Yes, Rose. But we call ourselves Slayers. It runs in the family,” he replied, his gaze steady.
I knew I should be scared, but instead, a nervous chuckle escaped me.
I didn’t expect Connor to be so truthful.
This was more complicated than I had imagined, considering they were in the Slayer bloodline.
They weren’t just trained to kill my kind.
They were born for it. Deadly weapons in human form.
“A Vampire Slayer, really?” I teased, batting my lashes and resting my chin on my hand. “Is this the part where you tell me garlic is your favourite seasoning?”
His serious demeanor shifted to amusement. “I can give you the family recipe if you want.”
“Wow, I didn’t realize I was sitting across from a monster Slayer,” I said, half-joking but intrigued. “So, you believe in Vampires, then? I mean, you’re not just killing random people, right?”