Chapter 41
Hunted
“Amelia,” Karson said, “are you alright?”
I swallowed down the blood in my mouth and nodded numbly, embarrassed and bewildered. My fingers trembled as I felt the lump on my head. Wincing, I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet.
“I must have tripped,” I stammered. I ran my hands through my hair, collecting twigs in my fingers.
“I see that. Are you hurt? Let me check your head.”
I shook my head and stepped back, swallowing again. “It’s not cut. I’m fine.”
“Why were you running?”
I could hardly tell him thought I heard the wind tell me to run and I felt like I was being stalked. I shook my head and dropped my gaze.
“Monique will not hurt you.”
I inhaled a rasping breath, pulling myself together, and looked up, keeping my face as blank as I could. “I’m not worried about Monique.”
His voice hardened. “The vampires will not hurt you, either. You have my word.”
His word, it was laughable really, did he really expect me to believe him?
He did save your life. Twice.
I rubbed my forehead. “Why are you protecting me—why not just kill me and be done with it?”
He stilled. He barely seemed to breathe. There was a long pause, Karson swallowed. “Is it so hard to believe I would not see harm come to you?”
My heart whirled with something that felt like emotion.
“You killed your own kind to save me and now you’re going to head out and .
. .” I didn’t finish. I couldn’t. How many people had he killed?
The missing hikers—did he kill all of them?
I stared at the ground and tucked my hands under my arms to stop them from shaking.
When I glanced back up, he was staring off into the distance. His jaw tight. He drew a chest-filling breath and looked back. “I protect you because you are someone worth protecting.”
I felt a faint sense of relief and oddly, flattery. I waited for him to expand on his comment, clamored to hear more, but it wasn’t forthcoming.
Karson gave me a faint smile. “You were looking for ways to escape.”
I stiffened. “Were you watching me?”
He nodded. “From the back room. I did not trust you not to hike your way up a tree and jump over the fence.”
No wonder I felt like I was being watched. The footsteps were his. The voice, and the feeling of being shoved, I couldn’t explain those, but a therapist could; delusional disorder. I dropped my gaze, focusing on the grass.
“I would break a leg,” I answered, resigned.
“I know, which is why I needed to keep an eye on you. You are safe here, Amelia. I will get you home soon, but in the meantime, please, make yourself at home. I do not have a television, but there are books in the lounge room, and if you need anything else, ask, and I will arrange it for you. Do you have any more questions?” he asked with a gauging look.
I answered honestly, “Yes, a lot.” So many. “But not now, not here . . . at home, where I feel comfortable.” Home. If I even still had one, now I knew what Ethan was. Though I could never imagine him hurting me, could I honestly be sure? I didn’t know anything for certain, not anymore.
His brow flickered as if my words hurt him a little. The hurt dropped away as quick as it appeared. “I assume you hate me, what I am?”
He caught me off guard. His tone was blasé enough, as if he didn’t care.
But if he didn’t care, why the need to ask?
I searched his eyes. In the depths, beneath a sheath of bewitching hazel green, I could see a glimmer of sadness so faint I wasn’t entirely sure if it was a figment of my imagination.
Without thought, as if my hand worked instinctually, I reached up to touch the side of his face.
I caught myself in time and pulled it back.
“I don’t hate you,” I whispered.
He stared at me for a long moment. A passing of different emotions rolled across his face. Most of which I couldn’t read. But I caught a flicker of relief, maybe?
“Shall we head back to the house.” A statement, not a question, but I nodded anyway, feeling somewhat defeated.
We exited the thicket of trees back to the perfectly manicured lawn. By the right side of the house, I caught a glimpse of a pool, sparkling under the glint of sunlight like pale diamonds.
“I didn’t think vampires liked to swim?” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Where did you get your information about vampires from, Amelia?”
He had a point; movies, books—all fiction. I wanted to know so much about him, but there were so many answers I wasn’t quite ready to hear. So, I asked an easy, safe question. “Well, you can obviously go out in the sun without bursting into flames then?” I peered up at him from under my lashes.
“Safe to say we can.”
“You don’t turn into a bat or sleep in coffins, do you?”
He glanced down, his lips tilted in amusement. “I’m guessing you may have seen one too many vampire movies.”
“So pleased you find the few questions I’ve asked you amusing, Karson,” I growled.
The smile dissolved, now he was serious. “Ask whatever you desire to know, I will answer what I can for you.”
The questions tumbled through my head. Do you need to drink blood to survive? What else can you do? Can you die? How were you made? How many people have you killed? Was Lucy one of them? Unease gripped my chest. If he answered he might find cause to remove me to protect his secrets.
“What if I chopped off your thumb? Would it be painful for you and would it grow back?”
A slither of amusement filled his eyes. “Assuming you could actually get to my thumb and chop it off before I stopped you, yes, it would hurt, and yes, it would grow back.”
I was in awe. I couldn’t imagine what it must be like to have body parts to repair themselves instantly. I wondered how old he was.
“Must be handy.”
Karson reached over and pulled a bit of leaf out of my hair. The gentle touch of his fingers sent shivers through my body and small pin pricks soared up my arms. My heartbeat increased in nervous excitement.
He noticed. His eyes locked on the beat of the pulse of my throat. And there was a predatory hint to them.
I yanked my hair forward.“If you don’t mind,” I said brusquely.
“I did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” he said, sounding apologetic. “It is a natural instinct, when I hear your heart rate increase I—"
“What?” I interrupted him, dismayed. “You can hear my heartbeat?”
He nodded. “Of course, I told you I have exceptional hearing.”
My cheeks bloomed, I floated my eyes to the ground and swallowed heavily.
“You have no need to be embarrassed, Amelia. It’s a natural response your kind has to us.”
With lingering dismay, I asked, “What happens exactly when you hear our heart rate increase?”
Lines creased his forehead, he looked across the property as if considering his response.
After some delay he looked back. “Our predatory drive kicks in. It’s instinctual.
When I hear it increase and smell the pheromones your body gives off, I have to control the urge to .
. .” he paused. “I will not hurt you, I told you that.”
I was aghast. “You can smell my body’s response, too?”
“Yes, I can smell your fear, your desire, your anger, it releases differing pheromones.”
All those times I’d been attracted to him, he knew. I gulped down the knowledge and wished in that moment the ground would open up and swallow me. I felt the color enhance in my face until I knew I could easily see myself as the stop signal at any traffic light.
“Well, can you not do that!” I snapped. Keen to pry myself from the mortification, I strode towards the house.
“It’s not like I can help it,” he said, barely restraining laughter.
I was moving at a good pace, but he took long sloping strides and caught up. We stepped inside, the smell of soup permeated the air. My belly growled.
“Lunch is ready, you need to eat.”
“What, can you smell that too?”
“I heard your belly rumble,” he answered, “and if your mood is any indication, some food would not go astray.”
I shot him a look made of frozen ice.
“Go through.” He indicated to the dining room, smiling.
The smile warmed the depths of my body.