Tall, Silent And Lethal Part 6

"Yes, I'm fine," she lied, stepping away from him and headed towards the paint accessories. "Why don't you think about it before you decide?" she suggested, trying to sound casual as she tried desperately to calm her frayed nerves. "It's going to take a while before the house is ready to paint anyway."

"But I want white," he said in a sulky, somewhat cute, tone that made her smile and somewhat calmed her nerves.

She looked over her shoulder at him to find him looking at her curiously. "What?" she asked self-consciously, fighting back the urge to squirm under his probing gaze.

After a moment he shook his head. "Nothing. Why don't you get what you need and I'll meet you up front?" he offered, walking off before she could respond.

With a sigh, she returned her attention to sc.r.a.pers, wondering what the h.e.l.l that was about. For a second there she thought he'd looked hurt, but just as quickly the hurt expression was gone, leaving her to wonder if she'd just imagined it.

She quickly selected several sc.r.a.pers and a large tarp and headed towards the front of the store, wondering where Christofer had wandered off to. When she spotted him outside leaning against her car and looking bored, she couldn't help but frown and wonder what his problem was. During the entire ride here he told her that he was doing this and that she didn't need to bother and now he'd lost interest?

What a jerk.

"Miss? I can help you over here if you're ready," a man said, drawing her attention to the counter by the far wall where a man dressed in a shirt and a tie stood, patiently waiting for her.

"Thank you," she said, pasting a smile on her face as she walked over and placed her items on the counter.

"Did you find everything you needed?" he asked as he scanned her items.

"Yes, thank you," she said, pulling some money out of her pocket.

"You're new in town, right?" he asked hesitantly, taking his time to add up her purchases.

"I just moved here last week," she answered politely, wishing he'd hurry up so she could leave. She was still feeling a bit jittery and desperately needed to step outside and get some fresh air.

He smiled. "You know, I think I heard that somewhere. You're staying with the Petersens, right?" he asked her as his gaze darted past her. Unable to help herself, Cloe followed his gaze to find Christofer watching them through the window.

"Just a little friendly advice, but I would stay away from him," the cashier said and Cloe could have sworn from the angry expression that crossed Christofer's features that he could hear them, which was ridiculous since they were a good thirty feet away with a wall of thick gla.s.s between them.

"How much?" she asked, returning her attention back to the cashier.

"Fifteen-fifty," he said. "Look, I know it sounds like small town drama, but there is something seriously wrong with that man. He's-"

"Keep the change," she said with a forced smile, cutting him off. The last thing she needed in her life was small town bulls.h.i.t. She grabbed her small bag and walked outside, relaxing when she took her first breath of fresh air.

She walked towards her car and nearly dropped the bag when Christofer tossed the keys to her.

"Wow, you're going to let little ole' me drive? I'm honored," she said dryly.

"Tell Marta that I'll be home sometime later tonight," Christofer said evenly as he pushed away from her car.

"What are you talking about? I thought you wanted to help."

"Changed my mind," he said with a shrug, walking away without giving her another glance.

She couldn't help but shake her head in disbelief. "What an a.s.shole," she muttered, climbing into her car. He really needed to figure out what he wanted, because these little mood swings were seriously starting to annoy the s.h.i.t out of her.

Not that she couldn't use the extra money, she definitely could, but it was the middle of September and it was already starting to get chilly. At least with his help she could have cut half the time off the project, but now she'd be lucky to have it finished before the first snowflake fell.

"Fine, whatever," she said, sighing as she drove the short distance back to the house. If he didn't want to help then that was more than fine with her. She wasn't about to lose any sleep over it.

A few minutes later she pulled into the driveway and was kicking herself for not asking Christofer to grab the ladder out of the small shed in back when she had the chance. Then again, knowing his mood swings he probably would have agreed to do it and then stormed off to glower somewhere, she thought, laughing at the image of him doing just that. Not that she would admit it, but she found his little glares and pouts kind of adorable even if he did occasionally irritate the s.h.i.t out of her.

Wanting to get this over with so she could relax for at least a few hours, she headed to the backyard, hoping the ladder wasn't too heavy. The last thing she needed was to throw her back out and depend on Christofer to take care of her. She pulled the key that Marta had given her yesterday out of her pocket and unlocked the door. She shoved it open until she made sure that it caught on a few clumps of gra.s.s and stayed open.

She stepped inside the small shed and looked around the dimly lit s.p.a.ce, wondering if she should go back inside and get a flashlight so that- The door slammed shut behind her, startling her as everything went pitch black. Forcing herself not to panic, she turned around and blindly searched for the doork.n.o.b. When she found it, she tried to turn it, but it wouldn't budge. She yanked on the door several times before she slammed her shoulder into it as she tried desperately to turn the k.n.o.b.

"Oh G.o.d, please no," she cried softly as she pulled at the door as old terror surfaced, threatening to overtake her. She could almost hear the screams and the growls as she pounded against the door. This could not be happening, not again. "Help! Somebody, please help me!" she screamed as she slammed her fists against the door.

"Please!"

Chapter 8.

"You want another beer?"

Christofer didn't bother looking up at the waitress as he nodded. She sighed heavily with annoyance as she walked away, probably hoping that he'd just leave. h.e.l.l, at the moment he wished he could do just that. He wished that he could get into his truck and forget that this small town even existed and live the life he craved.

There were so many things that he wanted to do and see, but never had the chance because of his duty to his sister. He didn't blame her for the way his life turned out. He blamed himself. If it hadn't been for him, their parents would have lived and his sister would have lived a full happy life instead of a life filled with sorrow and disappointment.

He'd lost count over the years of just how many ways he'd truly f.u.c.ked his sister over. He was the reason she'd spent four years in that h.e.l.l being poked, prodded and experimented on by those monsters. He was also the reason why they had to hide after their escape and the reason she never had the childhood that she'd deserved. If it hadn't been for him, she could have been adopted out after the war to a nice couple, but he'd been unable to let her go.

When they came to the States he'd planned on finding a couple that would take Marta in and love her as their own. Through a priest, he'd found a young couple that would have done just that. They would have given her everything that he couldn't, a home, stability and, most of all, a childhood, but in the end he hadn't been able to part with her. He couldn't trust anyone with her care. It was one of the most selfish things he'd ever done.

She meant the world to him and he'd thanked her by destroying hers. There were so many things in life that she'd given up to stay with him. Instead of a life with dolls, schoolwork and games, she'd lived a life on the run. They never stayed in any area long enough for her to make friends, because they were always afraid of being discovered.

He knew that he should have destroyed the lab and all evidence of their existence when they'd escaped, but there hadn't been enough time. He'd been too afraid to find out what they'd do to his sister if they'd been caught. Instead, he'd grabbed his sister's weak body and ran and never stopped running it seemed until about forty years ago when Marta finally had enough.

It was the first time they'd ever truly argued. She was tired of running and wanted a home, a real life and he wanted to keep her safe. It hadn't mattered what he said or did, she'd refused to listen to him. He tried, G.o.d, how he'd tried to convince her to stay with him, but she wouldn't. She'd said she loved him, but couldn't live like a fugitive any longer. She needed some peace in her life and in the end he'd been helpless to do anything but see to her wishes.

So he'd bought her a house and stepped back, allowing her a chance at the life he knew that she deserved, but he was never far from her. He took any job he could find, jobs that no one else wanted and sent her every last cent. The only thing he seemed to need was blood in his stomach and that was easily handled with a visit to the seedier side of whatever town or city he happened to be living in at the time.

For years he'd slept in abandoned buildings, garages and woods, too afraid to make any place permanent. Even though he'd missed Marta a great deal, he was glad that she no longer lived that life alongside him. As much as it hurt to watch her go on with her life, he was glad that he could finally do the right thing by her. In time it gave him comfort to know that his little sister was happy, had friends and had even fallen in love.

He'd never seen her happier than on her wedding day when Richard promised to love, honor and cherish her for the rest of their lives. Although it had frightened him to entrust another man with her care he did it, because he truly believed Richard loved her. For the first five years of their marriage, Marta was always smiling. Then one day her smile dimmed and she didn't seem to have as much energy anymore until one day she could hardly get out of bed.

The next five years were a struggle for her and h.e.l.l for him. No one knew what was wrong with her. Her doctor tried to convince her that it was all in her head and for a while she believed him. Richard certainly had. Her husband started to pull away from her, leaving her alone, in pain, and not caring that she wasn't eating or able to even get out of bed.

Christofer left a construction job in Canada when he'd stopped receiving letters, couldn't get her on the phone, or a straight answer from the man he'd entrusted with her care. The day that he came home and found her practically living on the bathroom floor caused something inside of him to snap.

For the first time since he'd woken up and found himself chained inside a cage, he hadn't fought to keep the monster inside him buried. After settling his sister in her bed he went after the b.a.s.t.a.r.d that was supposed to care for her. It hadn't taken him long to find Richard's scent and hunt him down. When he found Richard in that motel room two towns over G.o.d himself wouldn't have been able to save him.

While his sister had been struggling to survive on the bathroom floor, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d that he'd trusted to care for her was off f.u.c.king another woman. In two minutes he'd made his sister a widow and hadn't cared, because he would never allow another person to harm her.

After that, he'd made Marta his world once again. He'd brought her to specialists who'd discovered that the damage done to her from the experiments he'd been helpless to stop had done far more damage to her than anyone had realized. It took years of surgeries and almost constant care before Marta was able to function once again. The damage had left her weak and vulnerable. Christofer hadn't had the heart to ask her to move from the only home she'd ever known and loved when he knew that he shouldn't stay. There had been so many reasons for him not to stay, but none of them had been more important than Marta's happiness and wellbeing.

During the first year, Marta made him promise to stop feeding off people, afraid that he'd draw attention to himself and he'd be taken away. He'd reluctantly agreed even though he knew the pain from hunger would be unbearable thanks to his time spent in the lab, but for her, he happily did it.

For that first year, he managed to keep most of the hunger pains at bay by drinking animal blood he'd purchased from butchers in town. It was the vilest thing he'd ever put into his body, but he hadn't had much of a choice. If he let himself go hungry for too long the monster inside him would take over and leave him with no choice but to attack someone and he was afraid that someone would end up being his sister.

He'd hoped his purchases would go unnoticed, but they hadn't. People in town began talking about them. Not long after that, their attention shifted to the fact that he wasn't aging. It wasn't long before men he used to work for started refusing to hire him and women and children would go out of their way to avoid him by crossing the street or running into the nearest building when they spotted him.

He quickly went from being a welcome member of the community to the town freak and there hadn't been anything that he could do to stop it. He'd already cost his sister so much. He refused to take her away from her home. Since leaving her wasn't an option, he'd learned to ignore the glares, whispers, and looks of revulsion. He'd also managed to make a living doing what he loved, something he doubted would have happened if the people in town were still willing to hire him and he hadn't been forced to turn back to drawing out of desperation to support his sister.

The only other good thing that came from his position as town freak was meeting Seth. Seth had heard the rumors of a man that didn't age and lived off animal blood. Seth decided to come to the house late one night and introduce himself. At first, Christofer had denied the rumors and threatened to tear the man apart if he didn't get off his property, but Seth had been persistent. Just when Christofer was about to make good on his threats, Seth had thrown him a toothy grin.

It was the first time he'd ever seen anyone like himself. For the longest time he'd truly thought he was a freak of nature, especially when the doctors in the lab failed time and time again to replicate his abilities in soldiers who'd volunteered for the chance at becoming stronger and indestructible. No matter how much of his blood they took or how they gave it to the soldiers, none of the experiments had worked. Within minutes of receiving his blood, every single man had died, violently.

That hadn't stopped the doctors from trying. They'd refused to give up until they had an army of soldiers with all of his abilities, and they made d.a.m.n sure they knew all of his abilities. For four years he was tortured in every single way imaginable and he'd had no choice but to allow it so that he could keep Marta safe. The only thing that gave him peace was the fact that they'd failed to duplicate him.

For the first sixty seconds after Seth had displayed his fangs, Christofer had been terrified that one of the experiments had worked, but that thought left almost as quickly as it came when he realized that Seth could not enter his house without an invitation. During that meeting he'd learned that vampires truly did exist and that some of the old wives' tales were true.

He led Seth to believe that he'd been recently turned so that he could garner information about their world. At first Seth had been reluctant to share any information with him, claiming that Christofer didn't give off the earthy scent of a vampire. It wasn't until after Christofer had shown off his own fangs, careful not to allow his eyes to shift, that Seth had been more than happy to share information with him.

He'd learned that some of the Hollywood hype had been right and that vampires couldn't tolerate sunlight or holy relics. He'd also learned that garlic didn't bother them. He'd been shocked to discover that most vampires were loyal to a leader called a Master, but that there were others like Seth, who didn't belong to anyone. They led a different life than most vampires. Instead of feeding from the source, humans, Seth and other vampires like him survived on bagged blood.

When Seth offered his blood delivering services to Christofer, for a price, he'd jumped at the chance, desperate for human blood and half afraid that he was close to finally losing control.

"John said you're cut off," the waitress suddenly announced, pulling him away from his rather depressing thoughts.

Christofer shoved the hood off his head and looked past the waitress to find the bartender taking a nervous step back. They might not know exactly what he was, but they knew enough to be wary around him. Now Cloe did as well, he thought, the realization leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Why am I cut off?" he asked the waitress, returning his attention back to her.

"Because you drank twenty beers already," she bit out in a b.i.t.c.hy tone, folding her arms over her small chest as she glared down at him.

Christofer did a quick mental tally of all the beers he'd drank since he stepped into the bar ten hours ago and shrugged. It wasn't like he could get drunk off the s.h.i.t. The fact of the matter was that it wouldn't affect him one way or the other. His body wouldn't even be able to digest it.

"I'm not drunk," he argued, not because he really wanted another beer, but because he really didn't feel like heading home and dealing with Cloe looking at him the way everyone else did. Whether Marta wanted her to leave or not no longer mattered. She was leaving. It was bad enough that he had to deal with living in this bulls.h.i.t town, he'd be d.a.m.ned if he put up with the looks of disgust in his own home.

"Doesn't matter. John said you're cut off," she said firmly. One look at John and Christofer knew this hadn't been the man's idea. He looked close to p.i.s.sing himself.

With a heavy sigh, Christofer took pity on the man and stood up. The waitress, for all her bravado, jumped back and quickly scurried off to hide behind the bar and John.

Yeah, living with this constant bulls.h.i.t at home would just be so much fun, he thought dryly.

After throwing a few twenties on the table, he headed towards the men's room, chuckling when several waitresses and a few big beefy guys tried to look casual as they jumped out of his way. His reputation did have its benefits, he decided a minute later when several men, in mid-pee, jumped out of his way when they spotted him walking into the bathroom.

Ignoring their theatrics, he stepped up to the urinal, unzipped and pulled himself out. Without a second thought for the guys that were practically running over each other to leave, he relieved himself. Seconds later the scent of warm beer filled the tiny bathroom as it left his body, still in its original form. It was one of the reasons why he stayed away from drinking hard liquor since it stung like a b.i.t.c.h when it came out.

He finished up and turned around, surprised to discover that he wasn't alone after all. One of the men that had jumped out of the way when he'd walked into the bathroom squirmed from side to side as he held both hands over his junk.

"I really have to go," the man stressed.

Christofer's lips twitched. "Don't let me stand in your way."

"Thanks," the man said, practically running to the urinal, but d.a.m.n careful to stay away from Christofer, effectively killing the tiny ounce of humor he'd felt from watching a grown man doing the "pee pee" dance.

He washed his hands and stormed out of the bathroom, uncaring that he sent half the bar's occupants jumping to the side. He was in no mood for any more bulls.h.i.t tonight. The sound of his phone ringing did nothing to help his mood. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and answered a little more abruptly than he normally would have since only one person had this number.

"What?" he demanded.

"Christofer?" Marta said, sounding unsure.

"Yes," he snapped before he took a deep calming breath and reminded himself that Marta hadn't done anything to deserve his anger. "Yes?" he said more softly as he walked out of the bar, rolling his eyes in exasperation as several bikers he'd seen around town, jumped out of his way.

"Is Cloe with you?" she asked, sounding anxious.

"No. Why would she be with me?" he asked, heading towards their house and wishing that he didn't have to wait until he was out of sight before he could use his speed to run home. Not that he was in any rush to deal with Cloe. He wasn't. He just wasn't in the mood to stay in town for longer than was necessary tonight.

"Oh dear," Marta mumbled.

"What's going on, Marta?" he asked as he watched a small group of women rush across the street to get away from him.

"She's not here," she answered, hesitantly.

"What do you mean she's not there?" he barked, frightening another group of women into running across the street and almost getting hit by a car. At the moment he was simply too p.i.s.sed to be aggravated by their stupidity. "Where did she go after she picked you up?" he demanded, quickening his stride.

There was a heavy pause before she answered. "She didn't pick me up, Christofer. I wasn't sure if she was running late or not."

"Where are you?" he demanded, feeling his temper rise as his fangs throbbed in antic.i.p.ation. He ran his tongue over his teeth to keep them at bay.

"Home, but I can't find her anywhere, Christofer. I'm very worried." she rushed out, her accent becoming more p.r.o.nounced with each pa.s.sing second.

"How did you get home, Marta?" he asked with barely restrained fury.

"I-I took a taxi," she whispered nervously and for good reason.

"She's fired," Christofer bit out as he broke out into a run, no longer caring that he was still in view of the town.

"But, Christofer-"

"This is no longer up for discussion, Marta. She'll be leaving tonight," he said firmly, not bothering to tell his sister that he'd be draining the b.i.t.c.h's body dry for failing to keep her safe.

"But, Christofer-"

"Tonight," he bit out coldly, cutting his sister off before he hung up. He was in no mood to argue with his sister tonight. Allowing his sister to keep Cloe around had been a mistake, one that he wouldn't allow her to repeat. It had been foolish to bring someone else into their home when she had him.

He slowed his pace to a walk once he came in view of his house. His eyes shot over to Cloe's parked SUV as he allowed his fangs to finally slide down. Tonight he was going to drink the blood that had been tormenting him for over a week and he was going to f.u.c.king savor every last drop of it, he decided with a predatory grin when he heard the second, more frantic, heartbeat coming from the backyard.

He headed towards the backyard, more than eager to fire the b.i.t.c.h.