House Wyndham Vampires: Half Light Part 15

His tone when he spoke was measured and powerful. I felt it run down my spine and grab hold. "The council has deemed Michel's request a fair one. But he has also based his entire argument on the fact you have broken the covenant with the Babinauex House by giving your blood to this boy. Prove to me you haven't."

I was watching Brandon, Heather and Jared through the window of the shop. Brandon and Heather were on their feet still and it looked as if they were yelling. The baristas were coming around the counters and Jared was stepping forward. What the h.e.l.l was going on? "H-how? How can I prove this to you, or the Council?"

He paused again. "A Hunter has already been dispatched. They will tell me if they sense your blood within this boy. If he has been anointed, then the Hunter will know. I can stall the Prince's declarations if this boy proves to be untouched, and you may have your year."

"What-what if he makes a mistake? What if this Hunter says he's been anointed but not by me?"

"Carly-the Hunter has your scent. They will know if you've given him blood. If he has, you will be brought back to us for the bonding and whatever punishment Michel sees appropriate."

"And...the human?"

"He will be destroyed. Carly, do not interfere with the Hunter. They do not care if you are guilty or innocent. And if you get in their way, you will be hurt. Stay at home. I will know within the hour."

He disconnected.

Within the hour?

The Wyndham estates were in Virginia...if he would know within the hour, that meant the Hunter had already been a.s.signed. It also meant they lived here, in town.

A car moved slowly past me in the parking lot. It was a dark colored Audi with local plates. It parked nearby and I lowered the silent phone as I watched Coach Sanders step out.

No...it can't be.

Sanders. .h.i.t the remote lock. The car honked once, the lights flashed. Alarm set. He nodded to me and walked toward the coffee shop. I stood rooted to the spot. Was it possible the coach was Father's Hunter? He was human-not vampire. I could hear his heart beating.

Was he a Ghoul?

Was he a Doll?

Hunters were vampires, weren't they? Twisted, manipulated, mind-controlled vampires.

How could I have been so stupid not to pay more attention to how things worked? But I could answer that for myself. Because I never believed any of this would enter into my life. Behind the walls of my Father's sanctum I was safe and protected, and the movements of the world were little more than images on a flat screen. Television shows. Movies.

Sanders pa.s.sed by the coffee shop and stepped into the Publix next door.

I nearly collapsed. Coincidence? He probably lived nearby, and this was his grocery store. He had been in the woods earlier-maybe out for a walk? But if Sanders wasn't the Hunter-then who was? Paranoia set in and I took off at a run to the coffee shop.

As I pushed open the door I could hear Brandon's barely controlled anger.

"...enough of this, Heather. I do not love you-get it? We are not a couple. I do not want to date you. I want to date Carly! I care about her-!"

"She's engaged!"

Uh oh.

I stopped in my tracks. I had no idea they were arguing about me, and I wasn't comfortable with it. I could hear Brandon's heart thundering against his chest, and I could hear Heather's, much lighter, much softer. But strong. And upset.

One look at her expression told me just how upset. She'd started crying. Her cheeks were puffed and red, as were her eyes. She'd balled her hands and looked like she wanted to strike Brandon.

"It's an arranged engagement," Brandon said in a much calmer voice. "It's the same c.r.a.p you and I had to go through with our parents expecting us to get married, Heather. And you and I decided it was a bad idea-or so I thought. Did you suddenly change your mind?"

That's when Heather's gaze slid from Brandon to me. I was still at the door, and Jared was closer but tucked into a corner. He was watching, recording it all in his own way. The other patrons had cleared out and the baristas were in a small huddle near the coffee machines. Her expression hardened. Her lips curled into a snarl as she turned her entire body. "You..."

On no...

I'd seen anger before. h.e.l.l, I'd made Jared angry enough over the years, and Father. But their anger was surface emotions, very insubstantial. Not the raw, deep-seeded hatred I felt emanating from the small woman shooting daggers at me from her eyes.

If looks could kill, I'd have incinerated seconds ago.

I saw her muscles lock-the subtlest movement. So did Jared. He moved before she could and I'm sure Heather's surprise, visible on her face, was there because this young man hadn't been in front of her less than a millisecond ago. And now he was directly in her path to me.

Jared had her wrists in his hands. He'd held me that way several times when we'd wrestled. I knew the strength in those fingers and I also knew he was capable of holding back his power.

Brandon moved at that moment as well-but I didn't know if he was going after Jared, or after Heather. I jumped in and slipped between he and the other two. Once I had his gaze locked with mine I felt his anger ease.

A little.

I had my hand on his chest, his heart drumming against my fingers. "Brandon...he's my brother. That's Jared."

Brandon looked down at me and then over at the tall, lanky young man holding Heather. "That's your brother?"

"Hey," one of the baristas said from the counter. "Can you guys take it outside? That guy doesn't have on shoes-and we can't serve with no shoes."

I wondered if that was the first time the shop's workers had asked that-or if they'd been ignored the whole time. They looked a bit tired, and a bit irritated. Couldn't blame them.

I pulled at Brandon's right hand and lead him outside into the cool night air. We didn't speak until we were close to Jared's BMW and he turned to see Jared and Heather still inside. Only he'd released her and they were talking. Calmly.

Brandon looked back to me. "That's your brother."

I frowned. "Why do you keep saying that?"

"Because you two don't even look alike."

"Brandon-I was adopted, remember? I told you that." I crossed my arms over my chest as he seemed to be calming down. "Care to tell me what that was about? You said to meet you here, and then I find you in there with her?"

He ran his hands through his hair. "When you called me, I was in her car, in the drive-through. She'd called and wanted to talk, so I'd said yes. And we'd had a pretty nice time, like it used to be. Just friends. But when you called and I said I'd meet you-she kind of went all psycho on me," he shrugged. "So I had her take me here and she wanted to get a coffee until you got here. I wanted to talk some sense into her."

"Sense about what?"

"About us. Me and her. I don't know how much you heard-I don't know when you came in. But she's convinced we have to be engaged again. That we have to make our parents happy."

"Why?"

"I don't know. She wouldn't say." He put both of his hands on his head. "It's like...the world's gone crazy, you know? Over the summer, she and I decided we didn't have to do what our parents wanted. She was in love with some guy she'd met, and I was having a good time just hanging with friends. Paoli and Jack and them."

My eyes widened. "You used to hang out with them?"

"Yeah," he shoved his hands into his pocket. Thunder rolled softly overhead and the wind kicked up, pushing leaves around in the fluorescent light illuminated parking lot. "We all used to be friends-not that long ago. But something happened. I don't know what. But suddenly when school started back, Heather got a little weird and controlling. Next thing I knew I was hearing rumors we were getting married after graduation. And when I first confronted her, all she'd say was that she wanted me to go with it. Just say yes."

I listened carefully, but I was also aware of Jared. He was still inside with Heather. And...I didn't like that.

Brandon kept talking. "Next thing I knew, the guys are kicking my a.s.s for upsetting her. It's just weird, you know? I don't know what happened. I got blackballed by them, and any girl I asked out either ran from me, or if she said yes, changed her mind within the hour." He looked at me. "And then I met you-and you weren't a part of the school. You were something new. Refreshing."

"Brandon," I said hesitantly. "You never found out why she suddenly changed her mind?"

"No. She wouldn't tell me." His expression shifted from confusion to panic. "Why do you think it's important?"

"I think whatever it is, it's important to her. And yeah, I thought it was odd that a bunch of guys would go after another guy because he rejected a girl. I mean, in my limited understanding of the way the male mind works-" I grinned. "It seems really weird."

"I know."

"And the fact they almost killed you."

He nodded, looking at the ground. A frown crept over his face and he looked up at me. "Almost killed me? When did they almost kill me?"

Ooops. "When they attacked you. You told me they were the ones that attacked you in the woods."

"Yeah right," he was looking at me really funny. Kind of like when I look at a puzzling piece of artwork. "I just don't think I told you they almost killed me. I mean...there wasn't much of a scratch on me."

I was about to recommend we head in as Jared and Heather left the coffee shop. Brandon saw my gaze shift behind him and turned in time to see the two of them embrace, then part. Jared headed in our direction and Heather went to a car in the parking lot.

"What the h.e.l.l?" I said as I held out my arms. "What was that?"

"We talked. She needed to be calmed down," Jared turned and offered Brandon his hand. "Jared Wyndham."

Brandon took it and I could see they were both giving the other the grip of death. "Brandon Fleetwood." He released the handshake and turned to see Heather drive her little beat up truck from its spot and then stopped it nearby, the engine running. "What did she say?"

"Well," Jared put a hand on his arm. "That would be between she and I." He looked at me. "You'll take Brandon home?"

I nodded, screaming at him silently to tell me what the h.e.l.l he was doing.

"Just get it back in one piece, okay?" he leaned in to whisper in my ear. "He's clean. Now go have fun and I'll call Father." He stepped back. "Nice to meet you, Brandon." And then he was heading toward Heather and got in the truck.

Once they drove away, Brandon said, "What the h.e.l.l?"

Yeah... I thought as I watched them pull away. What the h.e.l.l.

It was close to midnight by the time I cranked the BMW and pulled out of the parking lot. We'd gotten in the car after Jared and Heather left-with the intention of me driving him home. Instead we'd just talked. For hours.

He was a very interesting young man. Pa.s.sionate about art in a way I'd only known my Father to be. In fact, the two of them had a very similar taste in art, with Brandon talking about paintings I knew hung in my Father's house.

We talked about music, and about the future. Brandon didn't really have any huge aspirations yet. "I just don't know what I want to do." He laughed as we both slipped down in the front seat and leaned our shoulders against one another. "I don't want to just do something in order to make a living-I want to want to do it."

I could understand him, and I respected it. I kept him talking as long as I could, not wanting to end the night. But eventually he was yawning more than speaking.

We were less than a mile from his house when I realized what Jared had said. That Brandon was clean. Jared would know this, he could sense these things. Which meant that Brandon wasn't under the influence of my blood. He wanted to be with me because it was what he wanted.

And that made me feel good. Which meant my father could take that and give it to the elders, and I could have my year.

My first order of business was going to find a way out of this bond. It was archaic and stupid. But at the same time, it was what my Father expected of me. He'd taken me in, taken care of me, and then given me the gift of immortality.

I should feel I owed him whatever he wanted. But how could he want me to bond to an a.s.s like Michel? And Father had to have noticed the guy wasn't really that right in the head.

This is what was going through my head when something bigger and heavier than Jared's car rear ended us. The impact was so sudden, so strong, that the jolt caused me to lose control of the wheel. Luckily the street wasn't wet or we'd have skidded on the pavement.

Instead the car came to a stop against a fire hydrant in a darkened neighborhood. It didn't break the hydrant and start spraying water. I sat gripping the steering wheel, panting, my muscles locked. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I looked over at Brandon. He was staring at the dashboard, leaning forward, caressing it in a death grip.

Then he turned at and looked at me. We both grinned suddenly, and started laughing.

That's when whatever it was that hit us returned, and rammed us on the driver's side.

For the first time since the night I was turned, I died.

My first thought after gasping the first breath after death was I'm hungry.

My second one was I'm starving.

And then I smelled blood. And a lot of it. It wasn't my blood. Vampire blood smelled very different than human blood. And there was a lot of human blood.

It took another few seconds before I heard sounds. There was a ticking noise. No, it was a tapping noise. Like raindrops on the window. Was it raining?

I opened my eyes, expecting to see rain. And I did. The gla.s.s was shattered into a million pieces. And there was blood splattered on it.

So much of it.

I was overwhelmed by it.

Then I remembered the car. Jared's BMW.

Brandon.

I could see well enough. There seemed to be an external source like a lamp. We were in the car, and we'd been hit. On my side.

I was smashed between the pavement and the car, half of my body out of the window and the other in the back seat. Reanimating was painful as the process continued throughout my body. I lifted my head and smelled blood. It was there, on the steering wheel and I licked at it.

And then I was covering the leather with my tongue, lapping it up to ease the pain of healing.

I needed more, and Brandon had to be nearby. I could borrow a bit from him- No. I couldn't drink!

But...whose blood was this?

Was it the blood of the one that'd hit us?

I moved my leg and the remains of the car creaked. It took me a lot longer to untangle myself than I thought it would. I was covered in blood. Dried vampire blood where my body had been smashed, wetted by the sprinkles of rain that bounced inside the car. Ah, then the blood on the gla.s.s was mine, right? It was all my blood.

I spotted Brandon. He was on his side outside the car, unmoving. Had he been thrown in the impact? I started fighting the twisted remains of the car as I tried to get to him. I could see blood all over him as well. And he was laying at an odd angle to the car.

"B-brandon?" I called out, my voice harsh. I reached up and found a piece of gla.s.s sticking out of my neck. A quick yank and it came free. Fresh blood gushed out but then stopped as the wound closed.