chapter 31
“Zane, Cain, Amaury, watch the doors,” Quinn ordered as soon as Blake had walked upstairs. “Wesley, Nina, stand by. It’s still daytime for a few hours. Thomas, Eddie, you might as well get some rest while you can so you can relieve the others in a few hours.”
As his colleagues left the kitchen, Quinn was alone with Oliver and Rose.
“Quinn, I’m—”
He held up his hand to stop Oliver from saying anything else.
“Rose, can you give us a minute alone please?”
She nodded quickly and left the room. When the door fell shut behind her, he looked back at his prodigy.
“I blame myself. I knew you were having trouble keeping the thirst under control. Hell, all of us struggled with it at the beginning. I should have been there when you needed me. Instead, I . . . ” He glanced toward the door through which Rose had just left.
Oliver took a hesitant step toward him. “I understand. You have enough stuff going on right now. Rose . . . well, it’s important that you and she work things out. She’s worth it.”
Quinn felt a smile tug at his lips. “She is. But it’s no excuse for me to neglect my duties. I’m your sire, and you need to be able to rely on me to guide you through the worst. I haven’t done that. Far from it. I’ve pulled you out of your familiar environment, made you move in here, and then practically abandoned you.”
“I don’t feel abandoned. All my friends are here. Cain’s been helping me.”
Quinn combed his fingers through his hair. “The point is, he shouldn’t have had to.”
“Hey, man, don’t take it so hard. I’m the first one you’ve turned, right? I suppose it’s like being a new parent. They don’t get everything right at first either.”
Surprised at Oliver’s no-nonsense answer, he stared at the kid. Was he really as grown up as he pretended? But even if he was reacting rationally to this situation, it didn’t change anything. Quinn was still responsible for him.
“How are you feeling now? How is the thirst?”
Oliver’s gaze shifted past him, suddenly uncomfortable. “It’s ok. I can handle it.”
Quinn put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. “It’s fine if you want to lie to me, but don’t lie to yourself.”
Oliver sighed. “I didn’t want to believe you when you told me it would be hard at first. You guys all make it look so easy. I’ve never seen any of you go off the rails like that and attack somebody for blood. I thought it would be the same for me. I never realized . . . ” His voice died.
“That the thirst for blood would have you in its grip, control you, guide your every thought? That you could smell a human hundreds of yards away? That even now Blake’s blood smells more delicious than any of the stuff that’s sitting in the pantry?”
Oliver’s eyes widened. “How do you know that? That’s exactly how it feels.”
Quinn smiled. “We all went through it. We had to learn to control ourselves, to bury that part of us so we could begin to function in human society. It’s a choice we make. For some it’s easier than for others.”
“Zane never made that choice,” Oliver added, a hopeful glint in his eyes.
“Don’t go there, Oliver. Zane had his reasons. And he had himself under control even when he was feeding from humans. The point is not to never feed from humans again, but to make sure that if you ever do, you won’t put their lives in danger—and you make sure they don’t remember. Both things you’re not capable of yet.”
“So you mean later I can feed off humans again, when I have myself under control, I mean?”
There was an eagerness in Oliver’s voice that Quinn couldn’t dismiss. The kid wanted fresh human blood, not the bottled stuff. And who could blame him? Fresh blood still held the life force of a human and carried more strength and healing power.
“The idea is to get you used to bottled blood so that you won’t resort to biting humans unless it’s an emergency.”
Oliver pushed his lips forward in a stubborn gesture. “But if I always drink bottled blood, how am I going to control myself when I do have to bite a human? I mean if I never really practice it on a live human, how would I know when to stop?”
Quinn shook his head. “They’re not guinea pigs. We don’t practice on them. And that’s an order.”
“But—”
Oliver’s protest was interrupted by an angry shout coming from upstairs.
“F*ck!” Zane cursed. “Wesley! Nina! Blake’s outside! Go get him!”
“Shit!” Quinn echoed and immediately ran into the hallway.
Wesley and Nina already came running from the living area.
“Back or front?” Nina asked.
“Back of the house!” Zane yelled as he shot down the stairs. “He’s running toward the neighbor’s fence.”
***
Blake tossed his bag over the fence and followed.
Vampires! F*ck, he couldn’t believe what he’d gotten into. At any other time he would have liked the idea of meeting a bunch of vampires, hanging out with them, finding out how they lived, what it was like to be immortal. All that shit. The idea was way cool. But to be bitten by one? That went too far for his liking! Maybe if one of the women had bitten him, he wouldn’t have panicked like that, but to feel the fangs of a guy in his neck, that was just too creepy. He wasn’t swinging that way.
Grabbing his bag, he ran through the garden, heading for the street, not caring that he was trampling through flowerbeds. He had to get out of here.
“Blake!”
Shock coursed through him when he heard Wesley’s voice. Tossing a quick look over his shoulder without slowing his pace, he saw him vaulting over the fence.
What the f*ck? Why wasn’t he turning into dust under the rays of the sun? What kind of vampires were they? Could they go out in the sun after all? Shit, that meant they could hunt him down even during the day.
Next to Wesley, Nina appeared too, jumping over the fence just as gracefully. Knowing he had no time to lose, he ran faster.
“Wait, Blake!” Nina called out now. “You’re safe with us! Come back!”
Her voice came closer, but he didn’t dare waste any time looking over his shoulder again. He needed to put some distance between him and those vampires. The extra 20 pounds of his bag were slowing him down. No wonder they were gaining ground on him.
Shit! It was either getting caught by them or parting with the designer clothes that he’d packed. The decision was easy. He dropped his bag when he hit the street corner. Without the added weight, he instantly ran faster, crossing the street like a bullet.
Panting for air, he felt his lungs burn from the exertion, but he didn’t stop. He had to try to lose his pursuers.
“Stop, Blake!” Wesley shouted after him, and Blake could hear that he too was exhausted from the chase.
Maybe vampires weren’t that much stronger than humans after all. Maybe he had a chance. Blake chanced a look over his shoulder and saw that both Nina and Wesley were about a half a block behind him, not giving up.
Odd, he wondered as he crossed the next quiet street without checking for traffic, Oliver had moved so much faster when he’d stormed into the kitchen. His movements had been a blur, so fast, Blake had barely seen them. Why didn’t Nina and Wesley employ that same speed? And why were they the only ones chasing him?
Could it be that Nina and Wesley weren’t vampires after all? Was that why they were the ones running after him and not Quinn or Rose who’d claimed to be his third or fourth great-grandparents?
There was no time to wonder about this now and waste any energy on thinking about it. He could contemplate what all this meant later when he was safe. For an instant, he wondered where to run to. He couldn’t go home; they knew where he lived. He would have to find another place to hide for now.
Blake was about to cross another intersection when a dark van cut him off, nearly knocking him over. Before he could even give the driver the finger, the door slid open and gloved hands grabbed him. He tried to fight his attacker, but the bastard was stronger and pulled him into the van.
“Nooooo!” Nina screamed from half a block away.
Her scream died as the door of the van slammed back shut, shrouding the inside in darkness.
“Let me go!” Blake yelled.
An evil chuckle was the answer.
Slowly his eyes adjusted to the dark, and he was able to make out three figures. Large men. They wore heavy clothing and gloves. Their faces were covered with large ski masks, the exposed skin around their eyes covered with zinc oxide. When they removed their masks, their faces reminded Blake of raccoons.
“Welcome, Blake,” one of them said, his voice devoid of emotion. “I’m Keegan. And you’ve just become a bargaining chip.”
When Keegan opened his mouth, Blake noticed the white of his teeth. He focused his vision.
“Oh, shit! More vampires.”
“That’s right. And we’re not as tame as the ones you just ran away from.”
All three men laughed, and the chilling sound ran down his spine.
He’d just jumped from the frying pan into the fire.