Greenwood: Paranormal Vampire Romance (The Darker Side of Deb Book 1) Page 7

  “Do not be afraid, Deborah, I did not do this,” Vincent said as he rose to his feet.

  “What are you?” Was all she could say.

  “You know… The girl was dead when I arrived and I am no threat to you.”

  So far he had not closed the distance, and Deb could hear the emergency operator on her phone. “The girl is dead,” she said speaking as loud as she could and praying the operator would hear her. “You’re here in Rookby woods and you want me to believe you didn’t kill her?”

  “No,” Vincent screamed and he launched himself at Deb. Crossing the distance in less than a blink of the eye, he reached down to grab the phone. His hand brushed across her thigh as she reached for it herself. Adrenaline surged through her as she imagined herself back in the car, her father dead to her right, her mother dying behind her. Out of the darkness a flash raced toward her and her legs were trapped in the mangled wreckage of the vehicle. She could smell diesel, hot oil and blood. Somewhere something dripped and fear was like a physical presence crushing her chest and coming out of the dark.

  She shook herself and tried to grab for the phone before he could reach it. As his hand skimmed her leg, she kicked out and her hand grabbed his. Animal instinct gave her power and her foot contacted with his thigh. It pushed him back and he stumbled away from her. There was wonder in his eyes as he hung up her phone and launched himself behind her.

  “We have to get out of here?” he said and pushed her down the hill and back to her house so fast that she felt as if she was flying.

  Deb no longer felt afraid, something had happened. She had moved her leg, kicked him and had felt his hand on her thigh. She screwed her eyes tightly shut and willed herself to wake. She had to be dreaming, how else could she see vampires and dead bodies? How else could she be able to move her leg?

  Vincent stopped as they arrived back at her house. Suddenly he was in front of her. He pulled her hands away from her face and looked into her eyes. There was a kindness in his gray ones and something else… it was sorrow. Did he feel sorry for her or was it for himself?

  He lifted her chin and stared into her eyes. “You will forget you ever saw this. We met as you came out of the house and got talking. We laughed and you are about to invite me in for coffee.”

  “No, I’m not,” she said. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Vincent stepped back. “I… I… Well usually I can… You know what I am?”

  “Yes,” Deb said. “What do you want from me?”

  “I want to protect you. You are special and there are people who want you dead.”

  Deb did not understand why he was saying this, but there was something about his face, about his eyes that made her want to trust him. “You should go,” she said.

  “You are a vampire, Deb. I turned you and you are in danger.” He handed her back the phone.

  Deb could not stop the laugh that bubbled out of her at the ridiculous words. “Yeah, everyone’s heard of a crippled vampire.” With that, she turned and wheeled herself away from him along the path and into the house. She could feel him behind her as she slammed the door shut.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Deb sat in the kitchen and watched Vincent leave. There was merely a flash of black and he was back in the trees. Staring after him, she wondered if it had all been a dream when her phone rang. Shocked by its shrill tone, she almost jumped out of her chair. “Hello.”

  “This is the Rookby police department; we received an emergency call from this number?”

  Deb’s mind went into meltdown and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Had she really just seen a dead body? And more disturbingly, had it actually made her hungry? It had to be all this talk of vampires. She was just getting caught up in the excitement, but the queasiness in her gut would not go away. “Yes, yes I did…”

  “Miss we have a car on route. What is the problem?”

  What could she tell them? Somehow she knew it would be wrong to mention Vincent. She had to find out more first. “I… I… I think I saw a dead girl in Rookby woods.”

  The rest of the conversation was just a blur, but she could hear the sirens before she put the phone down. What had started off as one of her best mornings in a long while had somehow turned into one of her worst. The thought of the girl alone and dead in the woods was unreal. It had to be some form of a joke. Maybe she would be in trouble for wasting police time, or at least she hoped so.

  Mace came down just as there was a knock at the door. Deb wanted to hide in her room, but she needed to see the body again. To find out if it was real and to see what she felt and how she reacted.

  In a daze, she explained what she saw to the policeman and Mace. Despite his protestations, she led the team of officers to the site. She was over a hundred yards away when the smell of blood was overwhelming. It caused her stomach to rumble and her mouth to water, but at the same time she felt sick and disgusted with herself. This was not like she read in books, vampires were not supposed to be killers.

  When they arrived at the scene the woman’s wounds had coalesced and the blood was dry and buzzing with flies. Deb turned to the side of the track and expelled her first cup of coffee.

  ***

  Vincent sat at his kitchen table with the blinds down and a mug of coffee cooling in his hands. It was a minimalistic room, white units, white walls and black slate floor tiles. The oak table and chairs were set in the middle like an island of wood in a black sea surrounded by White Mountains. The room usually calmed him, but the smell of blood was still in his nostrils and the sight of Deb, her eyes wide with both fear and excitement was burned into the back of his retinas. He could not get her out of his mind and yet he needed to concentrate. Would she turn him in and who had slaughtered the runner? These and other questions were picking at his mind like a flock of hungry buzzards and no matter how he tried, he could not seem to come up with answers.

  Taking a sip of the cold coffee, he closed his eyes and centered himself. He needed to think clearly and decide how this should be handled. The first thing was to work out what had happened.

  It was evident from the wounds type and diameter and the fact that there was no blood left in the body that the runner was a vampire kill. There was a scent left at the scene. He breathed in, testing it by searching through his memory; it was not one he recognized. Of one thing he was sure, it wasn’t him and it wasn’t Alix. This meant there was a new player in town, someone who was either young and careless or who just didn’t give a damn. Either way it spelled trouble.

  So he had a vampire killer in town and Deb was what…? Her leg had moved. Twice now, he had seen her legs move and her eyes turn black. There was power in the kick that had hit his shin. It was not just a human reaction; she was something more but was she a vampire? Closing his eyes, he scoured his memory trying to remember exactly what the prophecy had said. It was written in an ancient language that had taken him years to translate and still he was not sure if it was correct. But he had the basics, the gist of the text. One would come who was vampire but not vampire. Could Deb fit those criteria? She had black eyes and not yellow; maybe she just didn’t understand how to turn yet. But she was crippled. If she had turned, then she would have been healed. Vampire but not vampire.

  A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He immediately knew it was Alix and a growl rose unbidden from deep in his chest. How dare the man show his face? Vincent was at the door before he realized he had moved and he yanked it open ready to attack.

  A defeated Alix stopped him in his tracks. The man was the epitome of self-loathing and disgust and Vincent found himself stepping aside and gesturing the younger vampire to enter.

  “Do you have anything stronger?” Alex asked pointing to the cold coffee.

  Vincent grabbed a bottle of aged malt whiskey with two glasses and sat down at the table. “It has been a long time but after what happened, I should kill you on sight. So why are you here?”

  Alix took a sip of the drink
and winced as it hit the back of his throat. “I have felt you; I know you have been watching her. What I don’t know is why?”

  Anger rose in Vincent. He wanted to rip the man’s heart from his chest and stamp on it till it was nothing but a purple stain on the black flint. But this was not what he expected and with difficulty he fought back his blood lust. “I could ask the same.”

  The words were simple, innocent, but the force behind their delivery hit Alix like a north-easterly and he rocked back. “Alright,” Alix said. “I had no choice but to watch her. It was ordered and I had to report my findings to Dagmar. He saved me and I owe him but… There is something about her. I cannot let this go on.” He lowered his head and took another slug of the whiskey as if to give himself the courage to continue. “Dagmar has called in The Guild and… You understand our lives… the despair, the despondency; every day the same as the last and nothing to keep us going except what else is there.”

  Alix looked across at Vincent, his eyes pleading for understanding, but it was not necessary. Vincent truly understood the misery, the hopelessness the younger man felt. Being immortal was great at first but after you buried countless friends, after you saw the same pettiness over and over it was no longer the dream life you envisioned. Still he let the silence stretch. He would not give Alix an inch; if the man wanted something he would have to find the courage to ask for it.

  “Deb is somehow different,” Alix said his eyes oceans of sorrow. “I want to protect her even if it means my own death.”

  Vincent hid the smile that threatened to cross his face. This was what he needed; together they had a chance… if The Guild of the Undead was involved, albeit a small one, it also confirmed what he already knew. Deb was special and was either their savior or their destroyer… On that one, he guessed only time would tell. “Are you suggesting an alliance?”

  Alix’s eyes rose, his smile genuine but guarded. “Yes.”

  Vincent leaned back in his chair. How much should he share? How much should he tell Alix about his suspicions? Did he let on about the prophecy? “Tell me everything you know,” he said, deciding he would see what the younger vampire knew first.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Deb sat behind the wheel of her Charger at the back of the Rookby Grill. The steering wheel felt like lead in her hands and her mouth was dry. The dashboard clock read five minutes to three; she had timed it perfectly yet she did not seem to have the dexterity to operate her lift. Nerves fluttered around her stomach and she wondered for the hundredth time if she had worn too much perfume. It was a light musk and she had always found it gave her a feeling of excitement and a little bit of a sensual buzz, but today it seemed so pungent; she wondered if she had bathed in the stuff.

  With a quick check of her hair, she pressed her buttons and descended to the ground. Did he drive here? What sort of car did he have? What did he do? These and many more questions buzzed around her head interrupted, of course, by finding a dead girl. Did Vincent kill the girl? Deb had been careful what she told the police and they found her bout of sickness convincing so she had not been questioned too much. Yet she kept replaying everything in her mind. Vincent was bent over the body, his face was… like Alix’s had been… No, don’t think that. She had not seen him touch the girl and his hands and clothes were clean of blood, she knew this because she couldn’t smell it on him. What? Where were these crazy thoughts coming from?

  It was natural for her to be upset, to be seeing things because she had experienced a major trauma. She must have misheard Vincent, unless of course he was a little strange.

  Deb backed through the swinging doors and into the grill. The muted buzz was friendly and welcoming; it calmed her nerves to know that the place was busy. She swung her chair around and scoured the room for Alix just as a hand touched hers. A shock hit her stomach and she looked up into the ocean of his eyes and found herself languishing there.

  “Hi,” Alix said. “You look great. I have a table over here.”

  Deb’s face split into a grin at his comment and she relaxed as he pushed her toward one of the red leather booths next to the window. As they got closer, her heart froze in her chest. Vincent sat highlighted by the sun’s rays next to the glass. With his heavy brow and thick black hair he appeared to be brooding and was staring straight at them. Panic ceased Deb, she did not want to meet him, did not want this spoilt. “Can we sit somewhere else?” she asked.

  “Don’t be angry with me Deb, but you need to listen to Vincent.”

  Deb dropped her hands to the push rims and attempted to turn the chair and then to stop it, but she had no chance against the strong, tall man and Alix pushed her forward effortlessly. “Stop, damn it,” she almost shouted and noticed as heads turned.

  Alix ducked down and stared into her eyes. “Give me ten minutes. If you are still not happy, I will let you go but please, Deb, give me time to explain.”

  Looking into his eyes made her stomach do somersaults and tingles run up her arms. How could she refuse? After all, it was a crowded room and she would be safe. Giving him a slight nod she turned her eyes to Vincent. The man wore a smug expression, proving he must be used to getting his own way.

  Alix moved a chair and pushed her close to the table. Giving her hand a quick squeeze he sat down next to her. “Would you like a drink before we start?”

  Deb’s throat was dry; these two men were opposites and the tension between them was like a coming storm, it reeked of electricity and power. “Sure.”

  Alix left the table and Deb felt alone and vulnerable in front of Vincent. He stared down at her like a lion at the gazelle and her instinct was to run. The seconds ticked by as they appraised each other, but no words were said.

  Alix put a glass of wine on the table and sat down. “Deb, understand everything we plan here tonight is to keep you safe.”

  Deb pulled her gaze from Vincent’s cold and haunting gray eyes. “I don’t understand.”

  Alix took her hand again and said, “There are things…”

  Vincent’s voice cut through the conversation. “It is good that you two are close, you will need the protection. There are those among us who believe that you are special.”

  Deb could not decide whether he was just arrogant or insane. “Of course I’m special, I have wheels. What girl wouldn’t want to roll around the world?” The bitterness gave an edge to her voice, but she was intrigued. What were they up to?

  “That is not what I meant,” Vincent said. “Both Alix and I have seen things. We have seen you move, seen your eyes change color. You died at the crash site.”

  “What are you talking about?” Deb said.

  “I came upon you when your heart had all but stopped. You were dying, and there was nothing anyone could have done. You had a piece of rebar through your spine, it had severed an artery, damaged your internal organs. I should have left you… but for some reason, I didn’t. I interfered and I tried to turn you,” Vincent said. There was desperation in his eyes and a sadness that spoke of pain and loss. “I fed you my blood,” he said, “but I had to leave before you were completely drained. You should have either died or changed but somehow, something went wrong.”

  Deb moved her eyes from Vincent’s and looked up at Alix. This was madness all this talk of vampires and dying. She was injured, yes, but she could not have died… “I saw you kill that girl… and you come up with this mad story to… to… to what, to throw me off the scent?”

  Vincent laughed and turned to Alix. “I knew she would not understand. She is like a baby, still confused and in denial.” He looked back at Deb, his eyes dark, his brow furrowed. “Whether you believe this or not, there are those who will come for you.” He looked across at Alix. “Have already tried to have you followed. You are in danger, we can help but only if you let us.”

  “Alix?” Deb asked.

  “He is right, there are those who think you are a threat to us... to our species and they will stop at nothing to remove you. You must come away with us
where we can keep you safe.”

  Deb had started to believe him, started to feel that what they were saying was right. His eyes were almost hypnotic and she trusted him. She had seen so many things, she felt so many things but she would not leave. This had to be some sort of trick to get her away from here. “I will not leave with you.” Deb leaned back on her push rims, but Vincent was already behind her. He had moved impossibly fast and he stopped her dead.

  “Let’s go somewhere a little more private,” he said and wheeled Deb out of the bar and into the corridor. There was a back room, he shoved open the door and pushed her through.

  It made her feel small and insignificant the way he shoved her around, she could not escape him. Acid rolled around her stomach and her hand started to shake. What if these two guys had… what if they intended to kidnap her, hurt her? She was in trouble. She gripped her hands tight, they would not see her fear.

  Vincent swung her around and leaned down before her. His face changed, his brow thickened, giving him a predatory almost demonic look. Blood surged and pulsed through the veins in his neck, engorging them to the point of bursting and his eyes were yellow, the yellow of a predator and the yellow of death. Deb knew her mouth was open, her breath held, this was impossible. Fangs appeared at each side of his mouth. They reminded her of a tiger she had once seen tearing chunks off a piece of gazelle meat. Was she that meal? He surged towards her, a beast of pure evil and death.

  Terror traced an icy finger down her spine and stopped at the break. Deb shrank back in her chair, repulsion and fear coursed through her in equal measures. They froze her arms and crushed her chest. Logically she knew she should move, that she had to escape and a thin squeak escaped her throat. As she stared at the light as it reflected off his right fang, it was so close it could have ripped off her face. Something changed, anger rose in her and she pushed him away. At first her arms were weak against the solid wall of his chest, but then adrenaline raised the hair on her arms and she lunged at him.