A Chase of Prey Page 6

  “Sure.”

  We left the boathouse and began walking toward the beaches northwest of the island.

  I cleared my throat, trying to think of some small talk as we walked along. “So you have a sister?”

  “A younger sister, yes. We share a house. Always have. I suppose you live in one of the treehouses?”

  I nodded.

  “You live alone?”

  “Yes…”

  “What about Sofia’s mother?”

  I let out a sigh. “Long story, Kailyn. One I’m not sure you’d be interested to hear. But simply put, she passed away almost two decades ago.”

  Kailyn looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry to hear that… If Sofia’s anything to judge her by, she must have been a wonderful woman.”

  My lips formed a bitter smile. “Everything my daughter is today is down to no one but herself,” I said. It was the politest way I could think to respond to her remark.

  Kailyn looked at me curiously, but didn’t press. She was smart enough to sense that it was a sensitive subject.

  By now we’d already reached the row of houses that the werewolves inhabited. Both of us were fast walkers, so it hadn’t taken as long as I might have suspected.

  “Other than your sister,” I said, eager to change the subject, “do you have family here?”

  “Nope.” She pointed to a house toward the middle of the row. “Well, that’s ours.”

  We walked up the pathway through the front yard. She reached for the door and opened it, holding it so I could step inside after her.

  “Kira,” she called out, “we have a guest.”

  There was a creaking of floorboards overhead and a young woman descended the steps into the hall. She had the same athletic build and curly blonde hair, though it was slightly shorter than her sister’s. Kira also looked at least ten years younger than Kailyn, closer to the age of my own daughter.

  “This is Aiden, Sofia’s father.”

  Kira’s face broke out into a smile and she reached to shake my hand. “Hello.”

  “He’s come to show us how to use the wash machine.”

  “Washing machine,” I corrected. “Yes.”

  We walked into the kitchen. Opening the cupboard beneath the sink, I crouched down. The machine looked almost brand new and there was even washing powder down there. A manual lay on top of the machine. Flipping through it, I began to explain the basic functions. They stared at me like I was talking another language, and when I demonstrated how to switch it on, they watched in wonderment as it began to swish and swirl. Once I felt I’d shown them all I could and both of them had practiced switching it on and off, I stood up and replaced the manual on top of the machine.

  “You can always check the instruction booklet if you forget something.”

  “Thanks, Aiden,” Kailyn said. “Now maybe I can afford to sit in front of Brett more often to test how good it is…”

  I chuckled. “Well, I’d better get going now,” I said, making my way out of the kitchen toward the front door. Kira said goodbye and walked back up the stairs, while Kailyn followed me to the exit.

  Stepping back outside into the warm evening breeze, I turned around to say goodbye. Kailyn had a smirk on her face as she leaned against the doorpost.

  “By the way, you’re cute. You should stop by again some time.” She winked at me and shut the door.

  Despite myself, I felt the temperature rise in my cheeks. I was glad she’d already shut the door and hadn’t caught me blushing. I’d have to be blind to say that Kailyn wasn’t cute too.

  Chapter 11: Rose

  As I unglued my eyelids, my vision coming into focus, I felt utterly bewildered. It took a few seconds to remember where I was and why a man’s arm was wrapped around me.

  Morning sun was beginning to trickle through the windows and hit a corner of the inside of the truck, a couple of feet away from us.

  Why are we still here?

  My heartbeat quickened as realization dawned on me.

  We’d both fallen asleep and slept all the way through the night. Caleb had been so wrecked, even he hadn’t woken up. I clutched Caleb’s heavy hand and wriggled out from beneath his grip. His eyes were still closed.

  I brushed his cheek with my hand.

  “Caleb. You need to wake up. It’s morning already.”

  His eyes shot open and he sat up so fast he bumped his head against the ceiling. The mist of sleep still veiling his eyes, he looked around in the same bewildered state I’d been in. He looked out of the window at the brightening horizon.

  He swore and punched the side of the truck, making the whole vehicle shake.

  He drew open the door and scrambled out of the truck and looked around, as if hoping he might witness a different time of day if he went outside. He paced up and down, his chest heaving as he continued to curse himself beneath his breath. I gathered myself together and climbed out of the truck after him.

  “We need to leave,” he said, racing to the river’s edge, shadowed by trees and washing his face.

  “There’s no way you can travel on foot during the heat of the day.”

  “I have no choice. We need to catch up on the time we lost.” He raced back to the truck and grabbed the spare clothes from the roof. He began layering them over himself.

  “You’re mad. We don’t even have your suit any more. You’ll burn alive.”

  He was so angry with himself, it was clear that rational thought was escaping him. It was almost like he wanted to torture himself as a punishment for falling asleep.

  I gripped his hands, trying to calm his temper. “We’ll just have to make extra headway tonight. But we simply can’t travel in the blazing heat. We’ll get lost, you’ll be running at half your normal pace, and what’s more—even if you do survive—you’ll be too wrecked to travel properly tonight. We’ll take the truck and hit the road now, make as much headway as we can during the day and tonight we’ll just have to make up for lost time.”

  Of course, we wouldn’t make up for a whole night’s loss no matter how fast Caleb traveled, but we just had to do our best and work with the situation we found ourselves in.

  From the look in his eyes, he knew I was right. He just didn’t want to admit it. He exhaled in frustration. Walking up to a tree and ripping off a branch, he leaned against it, his shoulders heaving.

  “All right,” he growled. “Get in the truck.”

  He raced back to the truck and hurled himself into the driver’s seat. I hurried into the passenger seat next to him. Reaching into the back of the truck, he grabbed Luis’ sunglasses and put them on again. Starting the ignition, he pressed down hard on the accelerator as he reversed at the speed of a madman all the way up the track until we reached the main road.

  We’re going to crash if he’s not careful.

  Since Caleb had removed the clothes from the roof, we now had a gaping hole in the center of the roof. Fortunately, the sun’s rays didn’t reach the front seats through it. Caleb pulled down the sun screen and adjusted his glasses as we sped forward along the highway.

  I looked at the fuel meter. We still had more than half a tank left, thanks to the stop we’d made at the gas pump yesterday. But I wasn’t sure that it would last us until this evening. I really didn’t want to have to hitchhike today. Or witness more deaths and blood. Although the morning after tomorrow, we’d have no choice but to find another van to keep traveling toward the coast, I didn’t want to have to do it any sooner.

  Other early-morning drivers scowled in our direction at the way Caleb had joined the highway, barging onto it as if no other cars existed.

  “Caleb,” I said, reaching for his forearm, “we’ll still make it back in time. It will be tight, but I know we’ll make it back.”

  I couldn’t even think about what would happen if we got delayed and seven days passed, so I tried to find conviction in my own words.

  “We can’t afford more delays,” he said.

  That much, at least, w
e agreed on.

  We didn’t talk much for the next few hours as we sped forward. Caleb looked over at the map occasionally, but otherwise his eyes were fixed ahead.

  My thoughts drifted to Rhys. It was ironic to realize that he’d been the least of our worries so far. We’d had enough trouble just dealing with humans. Caleb had said that he would come after us. I wondered how he’d even go about tracking us down. We could be anywhere in South America by now.

  I shuddered again, wondering why he’d taken me. Caleb had said he didn’t know.

  I thought about my parents. I hoped that neither they nor my brother would try to come after me. I hoped they’d all stay safe within The Shade and wait for my return. I wished I’d brought one of The Shade’s phones with me. But it wasn’t like I could have predicted Micah would suddenly morph into an evil warlock. Besides, he’d have confiscated the phone anyway.

  Caleb’s voice broke through my thoughts.

  “Duck down.”

  He was looking into his side mirror. I caught a glimpse of my own before obeying him. A tall, black vehicle was following us. It looked like an armored truck.

  “Could they be cops?” I whispered.

  Caleb shook his head as he pressed down harder on the accelerator. “Not cops.” He swerved left sharply, my head bashing against the side of the truck.

  “What’s—?”

  “Stay down!” he bellowed.

  I dropped down on the floor as low as I could. There was a crack and then the shattering of glass. Caleb was still glancing in the rear mirror.

  There was a sudden bump against the back of the vehicle. My head went crashing against the wall again, this time splitting my forehead and drawing blood.

  Bullets continued to shatter the back screen. I was frightened one would hit Caleb again. I didn’t think I could bear to see him endure more wounds than he had already.

  “I knew I should have killed that bastard,” Caleb muttered.

  “Who?”

  “Luis’ man. The one who got away.”

  There was another crash as the heavy truck rammed right into our bumper.

  As Caleb swerved right, I clutched the door handle to stop myself from getting injured again.

  “Listen to me, Rose,” Caleb said, his breathing uneven. “I need to stop the vehicle so I can deal with them. I need you to stay exactly where you are. No matter what you hear, don’t step out of this vehicle. Do you understand me?”

  “O-okay,” I gasped, clutching my head in my hands, trying to stem the bleeding with my sleeve.

  Caleb swerved left again and then screeched the vehicle to a stop. The black truck rushed past us, taking longer to slow down. My whole body trembled as Caleb stepped out of the vehicle.

  He disappeared from my vision as he lurched forward into gunfire that shattered the front windscreen. I ducked down as glass rained down on me. I closed my eyes tight and covered my ears with my hands, trying to block out the noises and hear only my harried breathing. But the gunshots were deafening. They were impossible to block out.

  Shouts pierced the air. I hoped that Caleb would finish them off soon. The sun would once again be beating down on him, making this doubly difficult.

  Stay down. He told me to stay down.

  But why is the gunfire continuing? He should have disarmed them already.

  When the gunfire continued for what felt like five more minutes, I just couldn’t stay down any longer. I raised my head slightly so I could glimpse over the dashboard.

  Three men lay dead and bleeding on the floor. The back of the truck was wide open. Caleb stood inside with another man who was trying to corner him with a machine gun. Caleb rammed into him, knocking the weapon from his hands and slitting his throat. He held the man in front of him as a shield. As he motioned to step back out into the sun, two more men appeared outside the truck and aimed fire.

  And then it happened.

  A third man still standing outside lurched beneath the bumper of the vehicle and pulled down a lever. The door to the armored truck slammed shut. He fastened the bolt. There was a violent banging against the door. But there were no signs of it opening again.

  I blinked, barely believing my eyes. They couldn’t just trap Caleb like that. Why wasn’t he breaking free? “No,” I gasped. “No.”

  Wiping sweat and blood from their faces, two of the men turned toward me. I sank to the floor, trembling. I shook my head. No, he’ll escape. He’ll escape.

  My heart hammered in my chest as footsteps approached. I cast my eyes about for any sign of a gun, any means of defending myself. But I couldn’t see anything. I huddled further beneath the dashboard. The two men approached the driver’s seat of our truck. I caught the flash of a blade. One of the men tore it into the driver’s seat, cutting all around the fabric and removing it entirely.

  They pulled from it a black canvas bag. Unzipping it, they pulled out plastic bags filled with a powdery substance.

  They muttered to each other in Portuguese as they examined the bags. Seemingly satisfied, they placed the plastic bags back in the canvas bag and zipped it up again. One of the men picked the bag up and then footsteps walked away. I thought they were about to leave without noticing me, but then the door I was leaning against clicked open. I found myself looking up into the eyes of a tall tan man with long greasy hair. Blood and dirt covered his face and arms.

  He yelled out in Portuguese to his friend who also came hurrying over—a shorter man with cropped hair. They both chuckled as they ogled me. The man with long hair reached down and gripped my arm, forcing me to stand.

  “No!” I screamed. Lowering my mouth to his wrist, I dug my teeth into his flesh as hard as I could.

  He yelped and jumped back, nursing his arm. The shorter man gripped me round the waist and wrestled me to the ground. The banging against the back of the black truck intensified as I shouted. But as I strained my head to look up, there were still no signs of it opening.

  The man held me in a chokehold, wrapping my arms tightly behind my back until it felt they might snap from my shoulders. He forced me up again. I tried to stomp on his feet and headbutt him with the back of my head, but he dodged and only tightened his grip on me with each attempt I made.

  I screamed again, but immediately regretted that I had. Caleb was in enough torment already—my screaming would only worsen his suffering. It was for his sake that I bit my lip until it bled, forcing myself to stay quiet.

  The man shoved me up into the passenger area at the front of the truck and lodged me between him and another man who was waiting for them there. The man I’d bitten took the driver’s seat and started the engine. They continued talking in Portuguese.

  “Caleb,” I shouted as loud as I could, hoping he could hear me back there. I wasn’t sure if he would—these walls must be reinforced. But the banging stopped. “I’m okay.”

  Okay. If this situation was anything, it was not okay.

  I glared at the two men holding me in place. Then my eyes fell on the black canvas bag they’d retrieved from the driver’s seat of our truck. I wondered, had that cursed bag of narcotics not been hidden beneath the driver’s seat, whether they would have bothered tracking us down the way they had.

  “You are the Californian girl. Rose.” The man next to me grinned through yellowed teeth. It was more of a statement than a question.

  I bit my lip and stared at the ground, refusing to indulge his questions. I guessed Luis’ runaway man had already told them. I wondered why he hadn’t accompanied them. I supposed that Caleb had scared him too much to want to come near him again.

  “Well, we ought to get to know each other,” the short-haired man who’d wrestled me to the ground said. “I’m Phillipe.” He pointed to the man on the other side of me. “That’s Guillerme. And driving is Miguel.”

  Miguel didn’t bother looking back at me. I noticed with satisfaction that his arm was still bleeding from my bite.

  “Neither of them speak English, so you can talk to me,�
�� Phillipe continued, lighting up a cigarette.

  I choked as he blew smoke into my face.

  “You call that thing back there your husband. What is it?”

  I kept my eyes determinedly on the floor.

  Phillipe’s hand shot down to my thigh. Drawing up the hem of my dress to reveal my skin, he stabbed his burning cigarette into my flesh. I cried out, despite trying to keep silent for Caleb’s sake, as the fiery end seared through my skin. He lifted his hand five seconds later, leaving a round black burn. I groaned, afraid to even touch it lest it caused more damage. Tears of pain leaked down my cheeks.

  “I’m not a patient man.”

  I glowered at him. There had never been a time when I’d wished that I was a vampire more than then. I would have torn through his throat and enjoyed every moment of it.

  “Do you need me to repeat my question?”

  “No,” I spat, my voice hoarse. Clenching my jaw against the pain, I tried to steady my voice, drawing deep long breaths. “His name is Caleb. He is a man, just like you.”

  Philippe raised a brow, staring at me in disbelief.

  “He has fangs and claws. Crazy strength and speed.”

  Clearly, they’d never come across vampires before. The vast majority of humans were still wholly unaware of the existence of vampires. Humans who did witness vampires usually never made it out alive. And our humans at The Shade would never betray us by letting the world know about the existence of vampires.

  I had to avoid telling them that he was a vampire. If they decided to sell their story to the media, news would spread everywhere. I suspected that the only reason Rhys hadn’t caught us yet was because he didn’t know exactly where we were.

  I breathed in deeply, steeling myself for Philippe’s response. “It’s amazing what adrenaline can do. As for his claws and teeth, you see… my husband has a mental illness.”

  It was the only thing I could think of as an excuse. Unfortunately, I couldn’t enjoy the humor of returning Caleb’s insult. The situation was too dire for me to think about anything other than surviving for the next few hours.