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At the same moment the sun set beneath the horizon, Sebastian’s eyes flew open. The cellar of the old, abandoned hunting lodge in which he’d taken refuge remained pitch black, but this didn’t affect his body clock. He always knew, through some intrinsic aligning of his body and the solar and lunar cycle, when his time had come to wake or sleep.
Today he had a reason to stir from his dreamless slumber. Today was Elizabeth’s birthday.
He pushed off the wooden crates he’d positioned over himself—extra protection in case someone did return to this place. He doubted they would; he’d been able to tell from the smell of the old cabin that no human had been here for several years now, but he preferred to be cautious. The cellar stank of dampness, mold and mildew covering every surface. The rough log walls of the levels above ground had fared a little better, but he’d not been tempted to stay beneath one of the beds or even in one of the musty closets. With these old places, there was always a chance of a crack appearing in the wooden walls or furniture, allowing sunlight through. Just a chink of light would cause him some serious burns and he couldn’t risk needing to find somewhere else to hide out in the middle of the day—something that could kill him.
Anyway, he didn’t plan on staying here for long. He didn’t stay anywhere for any length of time, and he’d been at the cabin for a couple of weeks now. His time to keep moving was fast approaching, though he was unsure where he would head to next. He lived the existence of a nomad, constantly moving onward, with no plan or schedule to negotiate his movements. He figured the less he knew where he was headed, the less likely someone else would be able to stay one step ahead and find him.
However much he missed Serenity and Elizabeth—and he did miss them, missed them with a deep yearning that encompassed his whole soul—he was also relieved that they now lived a relatively normal life. Removing himself from the equation had allowed such a thing to happen.
After he’d left and started calling home to make sure they were all right, Elizabeth had initially been upset, then angry, and for a while even refused to speak to him—something that hurt more than any physical pain he’d ever experienced. But now when they spoke, she chatted happily about her day at school, her friends, what book she was reading or bands she liked—just like, he imagined, any normal girl would. She no longer needed to live her life explaining the lie of her father’s severe allergy to the sun, the fictional reason for him to always stay in the dark, something which automatically made her stand out from others at a time she only wanted to fit in, labeling her a freak simply by association. Now she could tell friends the truth—her dad was no longer around. An absent father was hardly an unusual occurrence these days. Not that this made him feel any better.
Speaking to Elizabeth always helped confirm in his head that he had done the right thing by leaving. There was no talk of blood or strange things happening, and though it had taken a long time to reach this point, he now at least felt at ease that removing himself from their family life had been for the best thing for their daughter.
Serenity however ... Serenity was different. They didn’t speak as openly as he was able to with Elizabeth, their tone always somewhat guarded. They carefully skirted the topics of other people or places Serenity might have been, and he knew she never asked about his feeding for the same reason—a need to simply not know.
Sebastian had no doubt that there would never be another woman in his life. Even the beautiful ones he occasioned across, who smiled and flirted with him, not knowing who or what he was, did nothing for him. Instead, he comforted himself with the memory of being with Serenity, falling into a trance-like state where he seemed to exist only in his memories. He brought to mind the warmth of her skin against his. The way her dark eyes lit with life when she smiled. The softness of her curls as he ran them through his fingers. Her fierce love for both him and Elizabeth.
How he’d given all of that up.
Years had passed now and he wouldn’t have blamed Serenity for moving on, though the idea filled him with a crazed, all-consuming jealousy. The thought alone of another man’s hands on her hips, his lips against her skin, another man pushing into that most private part of her, felt like a white-hot flame sweeping through his entire being, consuming all other emotions. He could imagine no other mortal man being good enough to even breathe in her direction, never mind being held in the warm circle of her arms. The possibility of being forced to confront such a man also left him crazed, especially if Serenity had feelings for him or Elizabeth had started to think of him as a father figure. While no part of Sebastian would ever want to cause Serenity pain, he couldn’t imagine not ripping the man limb from limb and bathing in his blood.
He forced the image from his head. He knew such a thing was possible—he’d sensed the occasions where she’d distanced herself from him, both mentally and physically, taking, he suspected, another vampire’s blood. Yet, she’d still come back to him the next month and he’d sensed their blood bond renewed. She’d not given up on him completely.
Elizabeth was thirteen now. She was growing up so fast and he’d only caught glimpses of her childhood—during the time Serenity had been taken, and then the glorious year after she’d been returned. Soon, their daughter would be a grown woman with a life of her own and, though he didn’t want to wish her childhood away, he held onto the possibility that perhaps then he could risk being close to Serenity again. He needed that tiny thread of hope. Without it, he would risk losing all of his humanity and would simply be overwhelmed by the bloodlust he constantly fought.
Sebastian left the rundown lodge and set off at a sprint through the forest, pine needles thick underfoot like a cushion, releasing their distinctive scent into the night air. His keen sense of hearing picked up the low roar of a truck’s tires against asphalt. Where there was a road, there would eventually be a service stop. Where there was a service stop, he would also find a phone.
Within minutes, he came across the highway, winding its way through the pine-covered mountains, their scent strong in his nostrils. He kept up his pace, running alongside the road, while staying deep enough in the wooded covering to remain hidden from any passing motorists, though they were few and far between.
He’d been living rurally for some time now, stopping in at small towns when he needed to place a call back home or send something back to his family. To feed, he’d been taking out the occasional roamer, someone with no home or family who would miss them, he hoped. Even so, death had never lain easy on his shoulders, even now, after more than two hundred years. But he was a killer. There was no escaping that fact.
Animals moved around him, birds bursting from their roosts in the branches above his head, rabbits scampering to safety with a flash of white. The wind stirred the branches above his head as he moved almost silently through the forest, his feet automatically knowing the exact spot in which to tread. He ran with a sense of freedom, like flying, feeling as he thought the birds must when they caught a wind current and circled in the sky.
Finally, he came across what he was looking for. He smelled it first—the thick, acrid slick of oil. Next came the sound of a condensed area of vehicles, people talking, and the underlying hum of fluorescent strip lighting. From between the trees appeared the unnatural square structure of the truck stop. The sudden reek of urine from lazy truckers who had used the back of the building instead of bothering to head into the bathroom assaulted his nostrils.
He slowed and emerged from behind the building to step up onto the road. The rest stop—though the building itself was small—had a decent-sized lot carved out of the forest which was covered in asphalt. A single eighteen-wheeler truck was parked, the owner of the vehicle either sleeping in the cab or using the facilities. He paused for a moment, concentrating. He got no sense of warmth or life from the vehicle. The driver must be in the café.
Sebastian headed into the restaurant. He pushed open the door, a small bell above his head tinkling his arrival. The air was redolent with the scent of over-cooked oil and burned coffee. A couple of rugged men sat at the counter, one forking pie into his mouth and wearing a scowl in Sebastian’s direction, the other drinking coffee and nose-deep in the local paper, no doubt reading about the spate of disappearances that had occurred lately. Neither of these men were the one from the truck, he could tell by their scent. He guessed that particular man must be in the restroom as he’d suspected.
His sharp eyes picked out the old-fashioned phone still attached to the back wall. He’d worried there was a chance they wouldn’t have one—after all, everyone used cell phones these days—but he guessed the reception wasn’t exactly great around these parts.
He gave a tight smile at the young girl standing behind the counter, a pot of coffee clutched in her hand. The girl gave a flustered smile in return, her cheeks growing red, her heart rate increasing at the sight of him, the sound filling his ears. Quickly, she turned her back and busied herself with something else.
Sebastian knew he looked strange—out here in the middle of nowhere, with no vehicle to have brought him here and miles of forests and mountains surrounding him. Plus, his smart clothes and lack of thermal clothing didn’t help. He was bound to attract attention.
He lifted the phone receiver, added some change from his jacket pocket and punched in his old home number, the digits remembered by heart.
The ring of the phone came down the line.
“Sebastian?”
She answered with his name, a frantic tone beneath her voice. Instantly, his hackles rose, knowing something was wrong.
“Serenity, what’s happened?”
She broke down on the phone. “Oh, God, Sebastian. I’ve been waiting for you to call. Elizabeth got her period this morning and then attacked her friends.”
“What do you mean, ‘attacked her friends’?”
Her voice came out as a whisper. “She bit one of them.”
“What?” He couldn’t help the shock ratcheting through him. No, surely not his sweet little girl?
“She drank the girl’s blood and then threw it back up. She’s been up in her room since we got back and she’s really upset about what she did. But she’s changing. I can feel it.”
He’d feared this might happen someday, but had been hoping and praying Elizabeth would stay just as she was. How was she going to cope with being like him? He’d never wanted that for her.
“You don’t have to—”
“Hey, buddy. I need the phone.”
Sebastian looked over his shoulder to see a burly man in a thick lambskin jacket standing too close. The trucker. Sebastian narrowed his eyes and shook his head, indicating the phone was in use.
The man took a step closer, a scowl on his weather-beaten features, a reddened, bulbous nose poking from a heavily bearded face. The gap was only a matter of feet now.
“I’m busy,” Sebastian said, regarding the man coolly before turning his back on him once more.
“Sebastian?” Serenity’s worried voice came down the line, obviously wondering what was happening. He opened his mouth to tell her everything was all right when the man spoke over the top of him again, too loud, as though wanting the other men in the room to hear him, trying to prove something, though Sebastian couldn’t imagine what.
“You think you out-of-towners can come up here and treat this place like your own—”
Sebastian’s patience snapped. He spun around, curled his lip and hissed, flashing his fangs at the guy. The man stumbled back, almost falling over a chair. He turned his head, his eyes locked on Sebastian’s face as he staggered to get away.
“Ralph?” one of the other guys sitting at the counter called out as the man ran from the building, his face pale, and climbed back into his truck.
Sebastian took a perverse delight in watching the man’s fear and then turned his attention back to the phone. “I’m sorry, Serenity. Some people have clearly forgotten their manners.”
“Is everything all right?”
“The only concern I have right now is for Elizabeth.”
“We need you, Sebastian. Elizabeth needs you. I don’t know how to handle this. I need you to come home.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll come right away.”
“Are you far?”
“I’m in Canada. I’ll be with you long before daybreak.”
“Oh, thank God.” He sensed her relief down the line. Hearing her emotion in her voice gave him a sense of purpose. His family still needed him.
“And, Sebastian, this may sound stupid, but be careful. An awful storm seems to be heading this way.”
His lips quirked in a smile. Even after all this time, with everything that had happened and was happening, she still worried about him.
“A bit of bad weather won’t keep me away. I’m coming to you, Serenity,” he said. “I’m coming home.”