Chapter 19 - Ameera
19
AMEERA
I’ve never considered myself a paranoid sort, but then again, I’ve never had a target painted on my back by one of the most feared vampires in the world. Feeling vulnerable, I hunch down in the passenger seat of Anson’s dark blue Chevy Silverado at the itchy sensation between my shoulder blades. Anson drives at a fast clip down the freeway with a focused intensity, his hands tight on the wheel and his eyes darting around for any threats.
“Are you still sure about doing this with no backup?” I ask as I reach under my suit jacket and touch the butt of my Beretta pistol for comfort.
“I’m not putting the others at risk again,” he replies as we exit the freeway. “Besides, my dad will feel a lot less threatened if just the two of us show up at his door instead of a small army.”
I’d hardly call bringing Samuel, Harrison, and Dre with us a small army, but I understand his point, even if I don’t like the risk we’re taking. The three of them were livid last night when I told them our plan and it took some convincing to calm Samuel in particular down. Tonight, I had to forbid all three of them from following us before we left the house. But the longer we’re out here driving around without the others, the more I’m doubting the wisdom of leaving them behind.
“I don’t like this,” I mutter, fighting the urge to draw my weapon. “Maybe we should’ve at least brought my sire.”
“No,” Anson says in a voice that matches his forbidding scowl.
Anson is still touchy and suspicious about Aydin, despite knowing I’ve had no kind of intimate relationship with him. But I don’t chide him for it. After all, I felt much the same way about Vanessa Durant, who had a romantic relationship with Anson. In hind sight, I should’ve just killed her before she had a chance to hurt him. Thankfully, Aydin is nothing like that conniving bitch, but it will take some time for Anson to trust him and I’m alright with that.
Anson takes the last turn onto a narrow tree-lined road and straight ahead is a white lighthouse with a black cupola at the top, and a green light flashing off and on inside its lantern room. It rises into the night sky, seeming to grow taller and taller as we approach. When the road ends, Anson pulls onto a narrow drive that leads to an old white farmhouse with a wide front porch and several lights glowing bright inside. He stops the truck a few meters from the porch steps and kills the engine. We get out and barely make it a few steps away from the truck before the front door opens and the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being racked stops us in our tracks.
“That’s far enough!” Allen Hale shouts as he steps through the doorway and out onto the porch with a shotgun pointed at us. He’s dressed in a pair of lounge pants and his hair is tousled from sleep. “This thing’s loaded with silver buckshot and I won’t hesitate to use it if you come any closer.”
We both put our hands up and stand stock-still next to each other, the breeze from the nearby ocean whipping our hair around our heads.
“We’re just here to talk to you, Dad,” Anson calls out. “Man to man. Nothing more.”
“Man to man?” he asks, his face a mask of rage. Magic glitters in his pale blue eyes that look so much like his son’s. “That’s rich coming from a vampire. Now get the fuck off my property.”
“Allen?” a female voice calls out from inside the house. “What are you doing out here?” A second later, an older Asian woman comes out onto the porch, dressed in a long fluffy robe and her long silver-streaked hair disheveled from sleep.
“Go back inside, Wai Lin,” Allen says without taking his eyes off of Anson and me.
The woman, whose name is apparently Wai Lin, comes to stand close to Allen and stills when she sees us, her eyes widening. “Anson?”
“Was just leaving,” Allen says. “Along with this murderous bitch,” he adds, nodding at me, and I stiffen in indignation.
“We’re not here to cause any trouble,” Anson says, his voice calm despite the tense situation. “Like I said, we just want to talk.”
Allen takes another step closer to us. “And I said, get the fuck off my property.”
“Allen,” Wai Lin says as she touches Allen’s shoulder. “Maybe we should hear them out.”
“Thank you, Wai Lin,” Anson says as some of his tension eases.
The woman turns an icy glare on him with magic glimmering bright in her dark eyes. “Don’t mistake my willingness to hear you out for acceptance. I will gladly incinerate the both of you if I have to.” She turns her attention back to Allen, who’s trembling with rage now, and I worry he might shoot one of us with an accidental discharge. “The sooner we let them speak their piece, the sooner they’ll leave. And if not?” She looks at Anson again with a pointed expression. “Then we’ll put an end to this standoff.”
Anson grits his teeth at the woman’s threat, but keeps control over his emotions as he speaks. “I’m not here to cause you any harm. Just let me say what I came here to say and then we’ll go.”
Allen narrows his eyes for a moment, then huffs out a breath and lowers the shotgun. “Then start talking before I change my damn mind.”
“As you know, I lost my magic when I was turned,” Anson says. “But I’ve recently learned there may be a way for me to get it back.”
“That’s impossible,” Allen replies. “Vampires lack the inherent life force necessary to sustain their auras, let alone manage any kind of magic. It’s what makes them the parasitic bloodsuckers they are.”
“Not according to my sire,” I say, ignoring his insulting words. “He’s seen a vampire regain their magic firsthand.”
Allen ignores me and addresses Anson again. “What does any of this have to do with me?”
“I need your help,” Anson says, and the answering scoff from his father has me fuming as he continues. “I need a mage skilled and powerful enough to perform the spell that will get my magic back.”
“Ah,” Allen says with a sneer. “And there’s the reason you’re here. You can’t use me for my blood, so you want to use me for my magic instead.” He turns his glare on me. “What a typical vampire move. Using others to get what you want. You’ve already killed my son and turned him into my enemy. I’m sure as shit not giving you anymore power to use against me or the Unity Coven.” He raises the shotgun and aims the barrel at me. “Get the fuck out of here before I end you and put my son out of his misery.”
Anson sidesteps, placing himself between me and his father’s gun before I can respond. “Dad, please,” he says, his expression anguished. “Deep down, you know I’m still your son or you wouldn’t have protected me with that shield last night.”
Allen’s scowl falters at Anson’s words. His eyes soften for a moment before they harden once again, dashing my hope that Anson can get through to his father tonight.
“Don’t mistake a moment of weakness for sympathy,” Allen says, his voice a low snarl. “Vampires robbed my daughter of her innocence and her sanity and took my son away from me. Your kind will always be the enemy.” He takes a step forward as Wai Lin frowns at Anson with a pensive expression. “Leave now.”
Anson shifts forward, probably to plead with his father some more, but I grab his arm to stop him before he gets himself shot by his own father. “Let’s go, zem?r,” I say.
Anson stares at Allen for a long moment, his eyes wild and his body trembling. His father looks on, unmoved by his son’s emotional reaction, until Anson huffs out a breath and looks at me.
“We’re wasting our time here,” he says, the agony in his eyes contradicting his indifferent tone.
“I’ll drive,” I say as I hold my hand out for his keys.
He gives them to me without an argument, and I’m relieved since he’s too distraught to handle driving right now. He turns and walks toward his truck, his shoulders slumped in defeat. I hazard one more glance at Allen Hale, whose expression is no longer the stony one he wore a moment ago. In fact, his eyes aren’t that much different from his son’s anguished ones. I glance at Wai Lin and her face is wary, yet still thoughtful enough that I’m beginning to think all hope isn’t lost like Anson so clearly believes right now.
Anson gets into the passenger seat and I climb in next to him a moment later. I start the truck and drive away in silence, and wait until we’re a mile or so down the road before I break it.
“All hope isn’t lost,” I say.
Anson gives me an incredulous stare. “Did we not just witness the same shitshow?” he asks, his voice hard and biting. “You’re fucking deluded if you think we accomplished anything remotely good back there.”
I arch a brow, incensed at his tone, but choose to ignore it, since he’s under a lot of emotional stress right now. “Who is that Wai Lin woman?”
“An old friend,” he replies. “She cared for Dad while he was compromised by Roman’s dementia spell.”
I nod, wondering if this Wai Lin and Allen are more than mere friends, and if so, then maybe we can use that to our advantage. But for now, all we can do is go home and regroup, and hopefully make it there without being attacked. I focus on driving and give Anson the space he needs to get his emotions under control so we can have a civilized conversation. We’re several miles down the freeway when Anson speaks again.
“I’m sorry I bit your head off,” he says as he stares out the passenger window with a blank expression that reminds me far too much of when he tried to greet the sun.
“I know you are,” I say as I check the rearview mirror and narrow my eyes. “And given the circumstances, I understand.”
“It’s no excuse for acting like a dick.”
“No,” I say and smile to soften my reply as I glance at Anson. “But being newly turned gives you some slack.” I check the mirror again and frown this time.
“What is it?” Anson asks with furrowed brows.
“I think we’re being followed.”
I’m pleased when Anson checks his side mirror instead of turning around to look behind us and letting our potential stalker know we’re on to them.
“The SUV two cars back?” he asks.
I nod. “They’ve been driving pretty aggressively to keep up with us.”
“That’s because you always drive like a bat out of hell,” he says with a slight smirk for my benefit.
“I like to go fast,” I say with a shrug as I watch the car in question whip past a semi to keep up with us.
He snorts out a laugh. “What’s the plan?”
“We go faster.” I press down hard on the gas pedal and the truck surges forward. We fly past a minivan on our right and I pull ahead until the lanes are clear all around us just as the freeway is about to split in two. I wait until the last second, then veer hard across three lanes and follow the freeway off to the right without slowing down. Then I check the rearview mirror, and sure enough, that same dark SUV crosses two lanes to follow us, barely missing another car as they do. Well, if that doesn’t prove they’re following us, then I don’t know what does.
“Fuck,” Anson says as he watches the car through the side mirror.
“The windows are tinted,” I say. “But I can hazard a guess who it is.”
“Can you lose them?”
“I’m certainly going to try,” I reply and hit the gas again.
This time, the other car doesn’t even attempt to disguise their intentions and speeds up until only a few car lengths separate us. I go even faster, but the other vehicle does the same and moves closer this time. They keep up as I pass between two other vehicles on either side of us, then with a loud roar of their engine, they surge forward and plow right into our back bumper. Anson and I lurch forward against our seatbelts at the impact. The rear-end fishtails and I grip the wheel and struggle to regain control for a moment before the truck straightens again. Then I floor the gas pedal to put some distance between us and our attacker.
“If I had my magic, I’d incinerate this motherfucker,” Anson says, scowling back at our pursuer.
I check the mirror and see that the SUV is gaining on us again. “If I can get us alongside them, can you shoot them?” I’ve never seen Anson use a gun before, but I assume he was taught to shoot by his father, who held his shotgun earlier like he was more than competent with it.
“Hell fucking yeah,” he says as he reaches behind his back to draw his pistol from the belt holster I gave him. He clicks off the safety and racks the slide with easy practiced motions, his jaw clenched tight.
I smile as he rolls down the passenger side window, vindicated with my assumption, before warning him to hold on as the SUV rams us again. We lurch forward and I fight to keep the truck under control for a moment before pulling ahead once more. The traffic clears around us, and I whip the truck into the far left lane and hit the brakes hard. The tires bark across the pavement as we slow down and come up alongside the SUV. Anson fires twice, his bullets piercing the glass of the driver’s side window. The SUV swerves away from us, and back again, then slams into the side of the truck, and only my skilled driving keeps us from careening out of control.
Anson fires again and this time the passenger window shatters and the SUV veers away from us. Its rear end whips back and forth a few times, its wheels squealing, before the vehicle drives headlong into the median, the line of crash barrels absorbing the impact and sending an explosion of water high into the air as we speed away from our attacker.
“Bloody hell,” I say as I slump against the seatback.
“Do you think they’re dead?” Anson asks.
His gun was loaded with silver bullets, but somehow I doubt we managed to kill them. “We could only be so lucky,” I reply.
“Then let’s go home before something else shitty happens tonight.” His voice is as tight as his expression.
“We’ll figure something out with your father,” I say.
“Will we?” he asks. “Because things are looking pretty bleak from where I’m sitting.”
I reach over and take his hand and give it a firm squeeze. “I promise we will,” I tell him with all the confidence I can muster. “Trust me.”
He huffs out a loud sigh, then nods, his features relaxing at my reassurance, and I bloody hope I’m not making a promise to him I can’t keep.