The sound of footfalls reverberated off the walls of the surrounding buildings as they walked through the alley. Beatrice’s hand was warm in his as she talked about the lessons her mother had taught her that day. She was learning her numbers now and was doing exceptionally well with them. He smiled as he listened to her eagerly prattle on; he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of hearing how excited she got about things.
Trudy yawned and nestled closer against him as she dropped her head onto his shoulder. Her breath tickled his neck as she breathed in and out. Dinner at their pastor’s house had gone longer than normal tonight, but Brian had been eager to see and discuss the plans for the new church building the pastor had recently drawn up. They were hoping to break ground on the larger facility next week.
Vivian smiled when Beatrice took hold of her hand too. They were almost to the end of the alley when a man and woman entered from the other end. He didn’t pay the couple any attention.
“Swing me,” Beatrice said, and he and Vivian lifted her off the ground so she could swing out and back.
Vivian smiled and corrected the bonnet on her head when it fell back. A small laugh drew his attention to the couple again as they continued toward them. The woman was wearing a form-fitting dress that revealed more of her breasts and legs than he was used to seeing. A feeling of discomfort filled him at the idea of his family seeing a woman so exposed. The woman’s chestnut hair flowed freely down her back instead of being tied back and covered, as it should have been.
A working woman? He wondered as the slit in her dress revealed her entire thigh and lack of undergarments. Vivian ducked her head as a blush crept up her pale cheeks. Beatrice stopped swinging as she too noticed the strange couple. He wanted to cover her eyes, but he didn’t have time to adjust Trudy in his arms before the man and woman were stopping before them.
“How sweet,” the woman purred, and the man moved to block Vivian from continuing onward.
“Let us pass,” Brian said coldly to the man. He had his knife strapped to his side, but it had been years since he’d had to pull it on someone. He didn’t like the idea of having to do so in front of his children, but he would.
The couple snickered behind their hands. Vivian pushed Beatrice against his side as she stepped closer to him. He could feel his daughter’s fright in the tremor of her body against his. He had no idea who this couple was, but he’d kill them both before he would ever let them hurt his family. Switching his hold on Trudy, he wrapped his hand around the handle of the foot-long knife he’d forged himself.
As a child fighting over scraps in an alley, he’d stabbed someone once. The older boy had pulled a knife on him first and had been looking to kill him. Brian had sliced his arm, leaving him alive, but wary of Brian afterward. He’d gained some respect amongst the street kids that day; he’d never had to use a weapon on anyone since. He had a feeling that was about to change.
“Not tonight, friend,” the man replied.
“I am not your friend,” Brian hissed through his teeth.
Beatrice shivered against his leg. “Daddy,” she whispered.
“Shush, honey,” Vivian said.
Trudy released a small snore and cuddled closer against his neck. Brian thought he saw a flash of red in the woman’s eyes, but it was hard to be sure in the dim light of the moon. The lanterns lining the streets only ten feet away did little to illuminate the dark alleyway in which they stood.
Can’t be, he said to himself seconds before the woman leapt at him with fangs extended.
He clung to Trudy and pushed Beatrice behind him to fight against the monsters attacking them. Unable to understand fully what was going on, shock jolted through him when fangs sank deep into his neck. He thrashed against the woman, kicking and swinging his knife as he continued to try to fend them off. Trudy screamed as her arms tightened around his neck to the point of cutting off his air before she was ripped from his arms.
Limp and weakened from the blood loss, his legs finally gave out, and he fell to the ground. Vivian was already lying there, her eyes open and unseeing as the last of her blood dripped into the earth. Anguish twisted through him, he wanted to get to his wife, but he had no strength to move. She was already gone, and he knew he would be joining her in Heaven soon.
A hand grabbed hold of his hair and yanked his head backward; something cool was shoved against his lips. He thrashed against the hand entangled in his hair as a warm liquid trickled into his mouth and down the back of his throat. He swallowed to keep from choking on the foul-tasting liquid.
Laughter rang in his ears as his head was released abruptly. His forehead banged against the ground, causing the soft skin to split apart; his blood spilled from the open wound, but he barely noticed as a renewed strength flooded his battered body.
He crawled toward his daughters and wife and slid his hand into Beatrice’s when she called for him. He wrapped his hand around hers as the burst of strength faded away, and he fell to the ground. Darkness surged up to claim him.
***
Brian jolted awake; his heart hammered in his chest as memories of that unbearable night replayed in his mind. He lay quietly, quaking as he fought against the bloodlust and loss that always came with the nightmare—a nightmare he’d had countless times over the nearly two centuries that had passed since the murder of his family.
Sweat beaded on his brow and slid down his cheek. In the beginning, he would wake crying in the night before the rage took over, but after the first fifty years, the tears had dried and stopped falling. The sorrow remained lodged in his throat; he could clearly recall the feel of Beatrice’s small hand in his, and Trudy’s warm breath against his neck. He could live a thousand years and never forget either of those things.
His fangs slid free, and his hands tore into the sheets beneath him as the urge to kill overwhelmed him. He rolled over to leap out of bed and go in search of some vampire who deserved a good ass-kicking followed by a brutal death. It didn’t matter that the sun was shining; he’d find a vampire to kill somewhere.
He froze when his eyes landed on Abby, curled on her side with her blonde hair tumbling about her bare shoulders. Some of his wrath faded as he watched her sleeping peacefully, her breathing slow and even as she trustingly lay by his side, so unaware of the monster she’d allowed into her bed. Her lips were still swollen from his kisses.
If she had any idea what was going on inside him right now, she’d run screaming.
If he left her alone and unprotected while he went out and found his release, she would be vulnerable to attack. He couldn’t do that to her. He’d already failed those he cared about once before; he would not fail her.
She was the first thing in centuries that felt right and good. The first thing that had made life bearable for him again. When he was with her, he wasn’t consumed by a thirst for revenge and murder. He wasn’t constantly looking for a way to ease the rage that had been consuming him since he’d been turned into a vamp all those years ago.
With her, he could almost believe he might have a chance to be happy again. He didn’t dare get his hopes up. He knew how cruel and unpredictable life could be, but she’d brought peace and solace to him when he’d never thought to feel either of those two things again.
Rising to his feet, he paced over to the door. The warm air of the room drifted across his bare flesh as he moved. He rested his hands against the door as he struggled to shake the lingering images of the nightmare from his head. When he’d first been turned, he’d had the nightmare every night. Over the years, it had dwindled down to only a couple times a month. He hadn’t had it at all since Abby had called him, but he should have known it was only a matter of time before it returned.
Walking back into the bedroom, he stopped to stare at her again. He kept waiting for the guilt to set in, but it hadn’t come yet.
Maybe it was because they hadn’t had sex yet, but they would. He had no doubt in his mind about that. No, the reason the guilt hadn’t come was because she was different from any of the other women he’d ever been with, but then they both already knew that. The guilt would not come with her, because she belonged to him.
He’d failed his family all those years ago. He deserved to relive it over and over again; he didn’t deserve the peace Abby gave to him. Even so, he was never going to let her go. He’d do whatever he could to keep her protected.
Walking over to the sofa, he pulled it down from where he’d set it on its side earlier. He couldn’t bring himself to crawl into bed with her again when he was still so geared up for the kill. He didn’t want her to see this side of him. He feared she’d take one look at him in his current state and know what he truly was, a coldhearted murderer.