Chapter 10

 

Trey swayed drunkenly toward Liberty. Damn. She'd missed his heart again. She took aim again and pulled the trigger. Got nothing but a hollow click. Trey seemed not to notice. Although still standing, he had to be in some pretty righteous pain.

He blinked twice and peered at her through reddened eyes. "I'll be back, Liberty. You'll never be free of me."

He whirled and lurched away, into the darkness.

Liberty's entire body went limp. She dropped the gun. "Hannah, he's gone. Are you okay?"

Hannah didn't respond. Liberty looked to where she lay—deathly still. Blood pooled at her head.

"Oh my God." Liberty knelt next to her and put a hand on her wrist to check her pulse. Thready, but at least she had a pulse. Her breathing was shallow. When Trey had thrown her, she'd taken a hard hit. So much blood... she was dying.

Liberty closed her mind to the nauseating river of red. She fumbled in her pockets for the vial, breathing a sigh of relief when her fingers gripped the glass.

She removed the cap and gently opened Hannah's mouth, placing the vial between her lips. Liberty tried not to think about what she was doing—the fact that she was not only this close to blood, but she was actually feeding it to someone. She swallowed back a lump of bile.

"Drink this, sweetie. Come on, drink it. Swallow for me. You'll be fine. I promise." Liberty held back tears, praying this would work. If Hannah died because of her—if she died at all—Liberty would never forgive herself.

Hannah's throat moved, and Liberty let out a sigh of relief. She was drinking.

Hannah moaned and lifted her eyelids. She looked up at Liberty, but her gaze didn't seem quite focused. "Was that—was he a—vampire?"

"A vampire? That's crazy."

"It's crazy, but I know what I saw."

Hannah sat up and looked around, her eyes wide. "Where is he? What is he?" Her hand went back to touch the blood on her head. She frowned. "Nothing hurts, but that's a lot of blood."

"Uhm... well, it's not your blood." The implausible lie fell from Liberty's lips. "The guy who attacked you was injured, you stumbled and fell back into his blood."

Hannah's frown deepened. "That seems... impossible. I saw a bat—I saw him change..." She shook her head. "How can that be?"

Liberty smoothed the blond hair back from Hannah's face. "It can't be, sweetie. You hit your head pretty hard. You imagined all that. He was just some crazy guy, probably on drugs. He's gone now."

"I don't know..."

"Let's get you home. You'll feel better after a night's rest."

Hannah nodded uncertainly, and Liberty helped her to her feet. She didn't know how long the girl would fall for the story. Maybe she'd have to ask Eli—or someone—to mesmerize her again. But how long could they really keep the secret from the girl? Two instances thus far. Maybe Hannah should learn the truth for her own safety.

But not tonight. Tonight, Liberty had to think back over what had happened, try to figure out if Trey was the killer. She had a feeling he wasn't. Just a gut feeling, but it was a strong one.

Regardless whether Trey was the one they were hunting, the vampire who preyed on young girls was still out there. Free to murder again.

* * *

Antoine's face was drawn into a scowl as he wrapped the tourniquet around Liberty's upper arm. "You must exercise caution in using the vials of blood." He held up the syringe, waiting for her to turn her head before he plunged the needle into her vein. "I cannot continue to take your blood on a regular basis. It will make you weak."

She squeezed her eyes shut when the needle pricked her flesh. She didn't mind the pain, but the thought of what was happening, that her blood was flowing out of her veins gave her heart palpitations.

"What am I supposed to do when someone is in danger?" she asked through gritted teeth. "When they need my help?"

He chuckled. "That is what hospitals are for, my child. You should only use your blood in extreme life and death situations. When it is the only way."

"I was pretty sure with Hannah it was the only way." She paused. "Relatively sure. How can I know?"

"That is not an easy question to answer. You must learn to know. That is all." She felt him wrap a bandage around her elbow and the bend of her arm. "You can open your eyes now."

She did, cautiously turning her head. The vials were sealed. He'd purchased colored, opaque glass so she didn't have to actually look at the blood unless it was absolutely necessary. Although Antoine was reserved, formal, his thoughtfulness showed he was growing fond of her. He'd been with her father for over twenty years, and had cared deeply for him.

"Now perhaps you should go get some rest." Antoine took her hand and helped her from the chair.

"I don't think I can." She was bruised and battered, sad, restless. Her mind wouldn't compute all she'd learned from Rupert, on top of the run-in with Trey.

She hated that she couldn't know without a doubt whether Trey was the killer. But the vampire was targeting young innocent girls. Trey was there for his single minded purpose of—what? Capturing her for Rupert? For himself? Or just screwing with her because he was a nut job?

"Would you like some warm milk?"

She smiled. "No, thank you. I think I'll go to the cemetery."

Sadness touched his Polynesian features. He inclined his head. "As you wish. Would you like some company?"

"I think I'd like to visit him alone."

"Very well. Be careful, Miss."

"Of course."

She drove to the graveyard and slowly cruised down the narrow paths until she reached the row where Victor was buried.

The headstones loomed in the darkness, her way barely lit by the moon shining through the trees.

She found her father's grave and knelt beside it, rubbed a hand along his stone.

"I wish you were here, Dad. That it wasn't all on me to find my way. I wasn't ready to be a hunter yet." A sob caught in her chest. Tears formed in her eyes, and she wiped them with the back of her hand. "I would have loved to learn it all from you instead of freakin' Eli."

But her encounter with Trey made her realize, in spite of how much she didn't want to, she definitely needed to train with Eli. She should have nailed Trey's heart with the first shot. She'd missed every single shot.

"I know it's foolish, useless to wish for things than can never be, but I also wish Mom remembered you. Remembered our time here. I bet she loved you and never would have left if you hadn't erased her memory. You cheated us both." He'd done it to protect them, but it still ate at her. How different would her life be if she'd been raised here on the island, as a Van Helsing with a loving mother and father? Her mom was great, but growing up without a father had been no picnic.

"He didn't erase her memory. I did."

She jumped to her feet and whirled. A man headed toward her from the shadows of the trees. Her heart raced with fear. He stepped closer. He wore a gray suit jacket and a fedora covered most of his dark hair. The bright pink handkerchief jutting from this suit jacket pocket should have looked incongruous, but it made him look... dashing. He was medium height, fit, handsome. Looked to be in his early forties. But if he was a vampire, and she was guessing he was, he could be hundreds of years old.

She swallowed, the dryness in her throat clicking loudly in the silence. "Who—who are you?"

"I'm Paul Blackwell." He extended a hand, but when she didn't take it, he let his drop. "I'm an old friend of your father's." He gave a wistful smile. "And of your mother's. At least at one time. She no longer remembers me."

"You're the one who mesmerized her?"

He nodded. "I did so at your father's request. I advised him against it. I told him that you and your mother would rather know him, stay with him, in spite of the dangers, than to lose all trace of memory of him."

"But you did it anyway."

"Yes. I'm afraid so. Your father wouldn't listen. I was his best friend. I had to do as he asked. Even if I thought him a fool."

Although she wasn't sure she could trust this man, she was hungry for information on her past. "What were they like? My parents? What were we like as a family?"

He smiled. "Happy. Very happy. Your mother was... breathtakingly beautiful, kind, funny..." He blinked rapidly and even in the darkness, she saw a faint tinge of red rise to his face.

She didn't ask if he loved her mother, but she knew he had. She could see it in his expression. Hear it in his voice when he spoke of her. Had her mother known? Had her father? Paul Blackwell had been Victor's best friend. Maybe he hadn't acted on his feelings. She wanted to believe that, anyway.

"Then came that awful day," he said. "The day at the ice cream store." She was surprised to see tears glisten in his eyes. "Everything changed that day. Your father was like a man possessed, determined to do whatever it took to protect you both. He practically went to pieces at how close he'd come to losing you." He stared at her intently. "I'll admit, I'd never seen such a horrifying sight. A small, fragile little girl, drenched in blood. If Eli hadn't—" He halted, his gaze dropping away.

"If Eli hadn't what?" she prompted.

"Nothing. It's not important."

She stalked up to him and tilted her head back to stare into his face. His eyes were a light brown, almost golden. He was extremely good-looking. For an older guy. If her mother knew of his feelings, Liberty could see how she might be tempted. "What are you talking about? What does Eli have to do with this?" She crossed her arms, stopping short of stomping her foot like a child. "I have a right to know."

He gave a slight nod. "Yes, yes you do. But you'll have to get your answers from Eli."

"Why is that? You told me so many other things."

"Yes, but this is Eli's thing to tell you. I have too much respect for him to betray him."

"Respect? Up until a year ago, wasn't he one of the vicious, psycho vampires running amok?"

He chuckled. "Running amok? I like that. To answer your question, yes, he was. But even malevolent hearts can sometimes show a flicker of compassion, of heroism. Even the non-beating ones."

"And I suppose Eli did something heroic? That's why you respect him? Was it in the ice cream shop?" Her knees weakened at the realization that Eli might have been there during the bloodbath. Kind of creepy, really, that he was a grown man when she was three. Technically, though, he had been twenty-one, just like he was now. And she was eighteen. Not so creepy at all. "Did he save us?"

He stuck out his hand again, and she took it this time. "It was lovely chatting with you, Liberty. You've grown into a beautiful young woman. I can see both your mother and your father in you."

She shook his hand, disappointment curling in her stomach. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

He winked and tipped his hat. "Talk to Eli."