Chapter Twenty-Nine
Aila it must have one of those blackout bulbs in it. I might find a book to read to keep my mind off things.
Everything smells of bleach because I cleaned up my mom’s blood and the broken shards of porcelain. To anyone else, it might seem like Mom lost a lot of blood, but I’m kind of an expert on how much fluid we have pumping around us now, so I’m not too worried.
Sliding my hand under my mom’s nose, I check her breathing.
Oh, Mom, I’m so sorry for getting us into this. Out of everyone who knows my sordid history with Piers Jordan, only you stayed by my side.
Everyone else—college besties, staff, authority figures, and friends—would always look at me with one eye half-closed. And I knew what they were thinking: Spoiled sugar baby using her physical charms to gain access to the high life.
That was always enough in their eyes to condemn me.
There’s that damn creaking sound again.
Please, can I just have one night on Landslide without a flood of emotions making me react like a deer in the headlights!
Scrambling to my feet, I stare into the darkness at the top of the stairs. The sound came from the second floor…
Maybe I should turn the lights on up there? Maybe it’s Ben? Or one of the Riders? Maybe I should go grab a knife out of the kitchen.
Maybe you should run, Aila.
I can’t leave my mom…
Why am I thinking this? Because I know I am no longer alone in the house.
A dark shape materializes on the landing, moving down the stairs at a leisurely pace.
Sprinting, I must make it to the kitchen where the knives are. It’s my only chance.
Why are my hands fumbling on the top drawer’s handle? I hate having my back to the stairs, but I must get a knife. Or one of those tenderizing meat hammers. Please, please.
Pulling the drawer open…
But it’s not the utensil drawer. Tea towels.
When I lift my eyes from the drawer to the stairs, the dark shape is gone.
I feel the heavy weight of a hand on the back of my neck. The grip tightens until the top of my spine feels like it’s in a vice. Like I’m a rogue dog that had the audacity to leave its master…
“Hello, Aila.”
There is still a chance that he’s here to explain his actions to me. All he wants is for my mom and me to sign the NDA. He’s got a girlfriend. He wants to be a politician. I have nothing to worry about.
I can’t run away and leave my mom. Fight or flight?
Neither.
Time for me to face the music and use negotiating tactics to set his mind at ease. Sliding the drawer closed, I submit. “Hello, Piers.”
What is so frightening is that he doesn’t let me turn around. Gripping my neck, he pulls me away from the drawer and then pushes me back into the living room. Throwing me down to the ground with an aggressive shove, Piers towers over me.
“Remember what I told you the first time around, Aila?”
He told me a million times that he loved me, but I don’t think Piers knows what loving someone entails. Certainly not this.
Moving to kneel, I let out a sigh.
“I’ll sign anything. And if it was you who did this to my mom, Piers, I understand how frustrated you must be after I disappeared, but—”
Sweeping my feet out from underneath me, Piers punts me in the stomach with the toe of his boot. It feels like he’s drop-kicked my guts out.
I can’t breathe or speak. All my focus goes to catching my breath. My mind is blank.
I think I’m in trouble.
“Do you remember what I said? Not the second time we were together. You were all uppity then, thinking you could manipulate me into ceding all my power to you. I’m talking about the first time.”
Just keep him talking. Ben is on his way with the doctor.
My voice comes out as a desperate pant.
“You loved me-he-eee…”
“Sure. I was fool enough to love you, Aila. But you ruined us. You loved getting a reaction out of me, didn’t you? And I told you”—he prods me with the toe of his boot, making sure I am paying attention—“I told you that I would kill you if you left me.”
Another prod in my belly. “Now do you remember?”
If I say yes, he will react. If I say no, he will kick me again. I can feel something hot and liquid spreading inside my stomach. It hurts so bad.
“Mm-hm.” Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to block out the pain.
“Look at me, Aila. Look at me or else the next kick is going into your mom’s head.”
I open my eyes, reaching to protect my mom.
“You made me do this, Aila O’Hara.”
Pulling out a gun from his jacket, Piers shoots me.
Theron
I told Shadow I would search the backwoods behind Ben’s and Luna’s holdings.
The area is crisscrossed with tracks and scrub brush thin enough to allow an ATV through. It’s boring work to track something because I can’t use my vampire swiftness. There is something about our original human physiology that stops our eyes from seeing in detail when we run at great speed.
But let’s just say I am motivated to do a thorough job.
I’m going as fast as I can, moving my head from side to side as I look for the artificial green paint of Piers Jordan’s quadbike.
Nothing. There were tracks outside Ben’s house, so where the fuck is the ATV?
Think.
Jerry Steele always heads to the bar at the inn at this time of night. No use asking him if he saw anything.
That means his property is empty.
Racing towards the Steele residence, I no longer care that I am not scoping out the woods.
The quadbike is there, parked out of sight between the henhouse and the outhouse. When I get close enough, I can smell the oil. He sabotaged the ATV as an excuse to take his sweet time returning to the inn.
Finally, I have footsteps I can follow.
Only the footprints are looping back to Ben’s house.
Hiding in plain sight. The oldest trick in the book.
And I left Aila and Amelia there alone. Jordan’s scent must have been camouflaged by the leaking blood.
The wind picks up as the clouds gather in a massive storm overhead. The treetops sway like river reeds. The creek water sloshes and heaves. The sound of happy holidaymakers screaming in the bar. The sound of doors slamming open as they rush out to see the phenomenon.
But I notice none of this. I am running like lightning towards Ben’s house.
Bats skitter and flutter as they try to fly out of my way. They are as disturbed by the sound of gunfire as I am.
Once again, I am greeted by the smell of blood as I approach Ben’s house.
Blasting through the mudroom backdoor, I rush into the kitchen.
Amelia.
No. It’s Aila. She’s lying like a broken doll in the living room.
Her precious fluids are draining out onto the rag rug carpet, her hand reaching towards her mother as if it’s Aila’s last act to protect her.
The sky starts to creak and groan to hide the thunderous roar that bellows out of me.
Walls and floorboards are shaking. The vibrations make the furniture tremble.
She is in my arms, the final heartbeats sputtering in her chest. Blood and bile spill over my hands as I try to piece the hole in her shattered ribcage back together.
As the skyquake groans overhead, I suck Aila’s blood.
Prising her mouth open by using my thumb, I bite my lips and kiss her. Ripping open my wrist with my fangs, I drip my poisonous fluids over that gaping hole in her ribs, a hole so large I can see her bullet-shredded liver.
This is not how the Red Queen changed me, but my bloody instincts take over.
My senses tell me things hang in the balance.
Aila’s body seems to fight the poison as it floods into her flesh, spreading like a virus over her organs. Her heart protests, palpitating like a butterfly trapped in a spiderweb.
Large tears of blood drip onto her face. I look around, searching for the source.
That stone cold killer inside me dares to whisper.
You’re crying.
No. I’m shouting. Cursing the world that turned me into this poisonous predator. Railing against the fate that forces me to hide away in the darkness instead of walk by my lady’s side.
Wiping the droplets of blood off my skin, I call her back to me.
“Darlin’, if you’re the brave fighter I know you are, I’m asking you to fight this one last time. And this is a fight you’re gonna have to do on your own. But I promise you, you’re not alone.”
What was it like to be so young with such a dangerous situation envelop her?
How long has she been hiding from her ex?
Ten years.
Did I get the lonely and tired Aila O’Hara? But as alone and exhausted as she was, it never stopped Aila’s light from shining through.
The Landslide vampires were just too far into the dark to see it.
As another teardrop of blood gets heavy enough to run down my face and fall onto Aila’s, something happens.
My vampire eyes see Aila’s eyes open. So does her mouth, and she catches the drop of blood on her tongue. Licking it with relish, she is hungry for more only milliseconds after.
Struggling against my hug, she sits up.
We look down at the hole that was blasted through her ribs.
Aila prods at it with one curious finger until her probing takes her all the way to the other side.
Twisting around, she is able to observe the bullet hole blasted into the couch behind her.
Her expression is full of wonder as she reaches around to feel the exit wound next to the spinal column in her back.
“Ouch. No… not ouch. But it doesn’t look nice.” Tapping her fingernail over one of the splintered ribs, she grimaces at the scratchy sound it makes.
Then she licks her finger.
The skyquake creaks and rumbles above us, hidden by the ceiling of Ben’s house.
“I kn-know why skyquakes happen.” Aila wants to confide in me. “It’s the gates of heaven opening to let in my soul.”
“Has it gone?”
She nods. “Yes. My soul is gone. It ran away from the expert runaway that I am. So, I guess I should be used to the feeling, because I’ve been running for so long.”
I help her push the viscera back into the ribcage hole so she can stand up.
The first thing Aila does is check on her mother. Only when she is satisfied that Amelia is okay does Aila begin to make decisions for herself.
“Where is he?”
“He hid the ATV at Jerry Steele’s house and then backtracked here.”
Aila sneers. “He thinks his money and power are going to be enough to get him out of this. The gun will already be in the creek. Or it will be planted to incriminate someone else.”
“Creek water is no problem for vampires. We will find the gun if that’s where he chucked it.”
She shrugs. “It won’t lead back to him, so why bother? No. I think we should find Mr. Jordan the old-fashioned way.”
“Let’s make that quick. I can hear Ben racing back. He must’ve gotten Vince to take him to Angle Inlet.”
Unconcerned about her blood-soaked tank top and shorts, Aila casually holds her hand over the wound hole as she moves to the door. But she stops and turns after opening it. The dark skyquake clouds and groaning thunder fade.
“Am I still alive? Or are we dead?”
“A bit of both.”
She smiles, those beautiful dimples peeking out.
“Perfect.”