Blood Hunter (The Grandor Descendant Series) (7 page)

Ari never saw the fireworks nor did she hear the rest of the countdown; her eyes were firmly shut, so that only bright lights danced behind her eyelids when it finally struck midnight. By the time she opened her eyes again, several minutes later, the police had walked passed them indifferently, and Ari smirked at their retreating backs.

Next to them Clyde let out a deep sigh and said, “Lucky we didn’t panic.”

“Lucky Ari thought quickly,” Ragon replied.      

“She might have thought a little too quickly to kiss you,” said Clyde, snickering as his face broke easily into a wicked smile.

God Clyde could be so arrogant, thought Ari. Ragon ignored the snipe and waved once again for a cab, which screeched to a halt a few feet away from where they stood. Immediately Clyde jumped into the front seat and slammed the door shut, apparently upset that he had missed out on a New Year’s kiss.

In the back of the cab, Ari and Ragon settled next to each other, just as the taxi driver turned to face Clyde and said, in a thick English accent, “Happy New Year; where you-”

But his words were cut off midsentence when Clyde lashed out at him, sinking his fangs deeply into the man’s throat. There was a muffled cry but almost immediately the cab driver stop struggling, arching his neck towards Clyde in submission.  

“What the hell are you doing?” Ari screamed, watching the driver’s eyes, which had glazed over and become expressionless.  

“I’m starving,” Clyde yelled back, wiping his mouth. “I got one lousy drop of Astel’s little temptations; that’s all I’ve had since we got here. More than 12 hours on that god awful plane with only whiskey for company.”

“Poor you,” Ari muttered under her breath.

“You couldn’t just wait?” asked Ragon, looking hurriedly through the windows, as he checked to make sure that no one had noticed Clyde’s actions.

“I’m not used to waiting,” said Clyde, smiling sarcastically at Ari, before turning to the cab driver and saying in a commanding voice, ‘
You’re going to drive us to…
actually,” he added, looking back at Ragon and Ari, “where the hell are we going?”

This was a good question; what were they going to do now? Their plan had been to trace a living relative of Ari’s and find them, but not a single one was still alive, so where did that leave them? All they had found out was that over three hundred years ago there had been a witch who Ari had been related to, and that her name was Mary Grandor.

“Well, we can’t go back to my estate; not after all the trouble we went to, pretending that we were going to Germany. Besides, I don’t want Astel knowing that we’re still in England. And we were supposed to wait here for the rest of the coven,” said Ragon.

“Ok,” said Clyde, glancing through the cab window, where two police cars were still patrolling the area. Quickly he refocused his attention on the dumbstruck cab driver and said, “
Just drive somewhere. Take us to an inn or something; just get us the hell out of here. Oh, and you’re not going to overcharge us,
” he added, ignoring the bewildered look on Ari’s face.

With one hand clutched to his throat, the cabbie slowly pulled out from where he had parked and began driving down the road. In the back of the cab, Ari was breathing fast; the shock of Clyde’s attack, as well as almost being caught for breaking and entering, had left her frazzled. Next to her, Ragon was texting Patrick and Thomas, telling them that they had an
altercation,
and were going to wait out the night somewhere local. Though Ragon was trying to remain focused on the texts he was sending, he kept glancing up at the driver. There was a longing, almost hungry expression on his face, which Ari recognised immediately; Ragon needed blood.

“We can text the coven the address when we get to wherever we’re going,” said Ragon, his eyes darting back to the cab driver reluctantly, where a small trickle of blood was now oozing between the fingers that clasped his neck.

“I know you must be hungry too matey,” said Clyde, turning back and smiling greedily as he looked at Ragon, his red stained teeth gleaming from the distant street lamps. “All this filtered light, the exhausting trip here and only having a teeny, tiny taste of Astel’s beauties; you must be starving! I’m sure it’s taking every inch of your self-control not to bite into-”

“-shut-up!” snarled Ragon, and Ari was surprised to see that his fangs were beared.

“I didn’t take much,” Clyde taunted, “there is plenty left; I don’t mind sharing, even if you have a problem with it,” he added, taking a meaningful look at Ari. “Besides, better you take a bite out of him than Ari.”

Ragon turned to Ari, his sad eyes resting on hers before he looked away, ashamed.

Clyde smiled knowingly then turned to the cab driver and said, in the same commanding voice as before, “
Pull over.”

Immediately the car pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. Ragon glanced out the window, checking to make sure they were not being followed then grimaced, purposefully avoiding Ari’s eyes. In a second he positioned himself closer to the driver and reached for the man’s wrist, then without so much as pausing, struck. This time the driver did not stir, but sat motionless behind the wheel, as Ragon drank from him. Ari, who was watching the exchange, quickly averted her eyes when Ragon finally pulled away.

Ragon did not try to command the driver; instead he sat back and looked purposefully out of the window, so that he was not facing Ari when he wiped away all traces of the red stain on his lips. Leaning forwards, Ari looked in concern at the driver. He was slumped in the front seat, one hand grasped tightly to his neck while lines of blood traced down his wrist, staining his now pale flesh and falling to land on the upholstery of his car.

Ari saw Clyde’s left eyebrow rise after a moment of their remaining stationary, but before he could speak, Ari said, “He can’t drive.”

Clyde sighed audibly, opened the door and blurred over to the driver, forcing him into the front passenger seat. In the process the cab driver’s hat was dislodged.

With a large smile on his face, Clyde placed the driver’s hat onto his own head and tipped it as he said, “Where to, little lady?”

Ari shook her head and crossed her arms, leaning back against the stiff head rest of the seat as she ignored Clyde, watching instead the reflection of Ragon in the window glass, as he stared down, looking guilty.

It felt as if they had been driving for hours before Clyde whistled loudly and pulled the taxi into a dramatic standstill. In the back, Ari’s eyes fluttered open. She had fallen asleep on Ragon’s shoulder, though with the abrupt stop, had been catapulted forwards. Just in time Ragon had reached out to grab her, wrapping his hands around her waist, before she could smash into the seat in front of her.

Looking around a little dazed, Ari saw a small rusty sign with a picture of a rabbit chewing a carrot, below which the words, ‘The Sleepy Rabbit Inn,’ were written in peeling white paint. How long had she been asleep? She had no idea how far they had driven, or indeed where they were, but quickly reached out and opened the door, relieved to stretch her aching back. She listened as Clyde commanded the driver to remain here overnight to recover, while forbidding him to mention to anyone where he had taken them, or that he had ever met them.

“I told him not to overcharge us,” Clyde said indignantly, when Ragon forced several fifty pound notes into the console of the cab.

“Yea for driving us; that money was for his other service,” Ragon said.

In similar fashion to the sign, the tavern was derelict and dirty. It was entirely deserted, all apart for an elderly barman, who eyed them suspiciously when they requested lodging for the night. The three remained in the bar, drinking the slightly stale cider that the barman had on tap, while waiting for the rest of the coven to arrive. No one discussed what they had discovered at the Lancaster Titles Office. In fact, it wasn’t until the others arrived, that the name Mary Grandor was bought up again.

Ragon was not yet half way through the story of what they had discovered at the Lancaster Titles Office, when Sandra became distracted, calling the old bartender to serve her a drink. Though Sandra pointed valiantly at the beer taps, the elderly bartender kept placing his hand to his ear, apparently unable to understand her requests, and finally serving her a glass cider instead. Sandra looked down at the cloudy liquid shaking her head, then without so much as a warning, pounced across the bar and lashed out at the old man, her fangs slicing through his wrist with surprising ease. After that the deaf barman poured her a pint of Guinness then moved casually towards the stairs and disappeared up them. The coven and Ari had remained speechless throughout this exchange, too shocked to voice their thoughts.   

Slamming her half-drunk pint down onto the bar, Sandra wiped away the white froth which covered her top lip. She then sighed deeply and with satisfaction, finally looking around at the other coven members, who were staring at her open mouthed.

“What?” she asked.

“You couldn’t just try please?” Clyde asked.

“Oh you’re one to talk; at least I don’t have sources hanging from my shoulder, like blood bags everywhere I go,” Sandra spat. “Besides, the old geeza must have been nearly 80. I sure as hell wasn’t drinking from him for pleasure; it felt as if I was licking a tree. All I wanted was a beer. And anyway, someone was going to have to disassociate him after our stay; or were you hoping Astel would find us and tell the Ancients that instead of being in Germany, we had decided to camp out in this godforsaken hell hole?”

Thomas, who was staring transfixed at Sandra, opened his mouth several times but did not speak. Again Ari was reminded of the drastic change in Sandra’s attitude since the loss of Larissa. It was as if she had switched off her humanity to deal with the pain. It was just dawning on Ari that Sandra was almost starting to act like Clyde. The fact therefore that Clyde was reprimanding her, was serious cause for concern.

“So,” said Thomas, clearly hoping to distract the group from Sandra’s actions, “Ari is related to Mary Grandor, who was a witch?”

“Yes,” Ragon said hurriedly, “but it’s not just that. When we were in Australia, I read about a star constellation called Grandor. It’s the only time I have ever heard the name before. Have you ever heard of it?”

Everyone except for Clyde and Ari shook their heads.

“We could google it,” Ari suggested, and the coven stared at her blankly. “You know google… the internship… none of this is ringing a bell is it?”

She sighed and reached for Ragon’s phone, smiling when she saw four small bars in the top left corner, indicating that they had internet reception.

“Who is this google?” asked Clyde, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Google knows all,” said Ari, laughing at the confused look on the rest of the coven’s face, as she punched in the words ‘Grandor constellation’ and waited. “It says here that the Grandor constellation is made up of four stars and shines brightest in the Southern hemisphere. The stars were named for an immortal called Grandor, who took from himself to create his family, bringing into the world a wife to share eternity with. But Grandor’s wife craved a child, and so together they made a daughter, but soon the child became lonely too and begged her father for a companion. Grandor agreed and the fourth immortal was created. Fearful that the cycle would go on forever, the Gods marked Grandor’s heirs.”

“Ok,” Thomas said sceptically, “and you think that has something to do with Ari’s ability to stop time? Isn’t it more likely that she is related to this Mary Grandor and is a witch?”

“Thank you! That’s exactly what I said,” Clyde said indignantly.

“But what if there is some connection?” asked Ragon, just as Clyde let out a doubtful snort.

“And you couldn’t find any living relatives?” asked Thomas, “No one that we could talk to?”

Clyde shook his head and added, “Her family tree is pretty narrow. We traced both her parents all the way back a few hundred years, but when we followed the lines forward, there wasn’t anyone still living.”

Ari sighed. It was true. There wasn’t a single relative, not even a long lost uncle or cousin, who she could talk to about the strange things that she could do. And it wasn’t just the absence of these people to fill in the blanks about her abilities; Ari had no family… there was no other way to look at it. Without realising it, she closed her eyes and a single tear slipped between her eyelids and slid down her cheek. For the first time since meeting Ragon, she felt completely alone, just like she had when she had been at the orphanage as a child, except now her daydreams of the large family who were searching frantically for her, would never come true.