Graveyard Shifts: A Pat Wyatt Novel (19 page)

BOOK: Graveyard Shifts: A Pat Wyatt Novel
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Samuel picked me up, turning me so that the crossbow Mike was holding was pointed directly at my heart. Then I heard Samuel zip himself up as he pinned me to his chest. “I do not think so, you mangy mutt,” he hissed, and Mike growled.

Mike stared at me with glowing yellow eyes, and I nodded for him to shoot me. But he shook his head, lowering the bow. I couldn’t stand to look at him anymore, so I closed my eyes as Samuel tilted my head back, feasting on me again. Why didn’t Mike have the guts to kill me when he had the chance?

But before I could think of myself as a goner, someone carefully threw me aside, and I landed on the bed. When I opened my eyes, I saw a woman pinning Samuel to the wall. Suddenly I felt like I was going to pass out, and Mike rushed over to me, placing his now pointed ear against my chest. I guess he wanted to know if my heart was still beating.

I watched the woman carefully as she slashed Samuel across one cheek and then the other with her nails. She twisted him around, snapping his arm like a twig, and he hissed and spat at her like a cat. At that moment, her fangs dug into his shoulder, ripping out a piece of his flesh. Then she whipped him around, holding him to the wall by his throat.

“Let her go, Samuel!” She didn’t sound human at all. She sounded almost demonic.

“Stay out of this, Kathryn!” he spat out, words clear as day, even though he was being choked. I noticed that he had a mixture of his blood, and mine dripping down his cheeks and mouth and onto his bare chest. “She is mine!”

The woman named Kathryn struggled to keep him pinned. “Not this way! You know they must have free will!” she hissed through her teeth.

“Mariah gave me no choice,” he said, voice calm as his lips curled over his fangs.

“You always have a choice!” Kathryn sneered. “Michael,” she said, turning her head toward him, “get her out of here,” she ordered and Mike nodded.

It hurt like crazy when he picked me up, placing me over his shoulder. Then he carried me up the stairs, through the study, and into the sitting room, where he placed me on the sofa gently.

I flinched when he placed me down, and when he reached for me I cringed and moved away from him. “Bébé,” he said softly, “it’s just me.”

Even though I could hear him, he just wasn’t making any sense. I curled up into a ball, wrapping my arms around my knees as I rocked back and forth. I closed my eyes and tried not to think of anything. But I knew that in that moment, I was a twenty-seven-year-old woman in desperate need of her mommy.

.

chapter

SEVENTEEN

“My poor, sweet girl,” Kathryn whispered as she sat down beside me, holding me to her like a child. Then she placed me on her lap and rocked me. “Everything is going to be all right.” She patted my hair and I glanced up at her, realizing that it was
her
…the Ivory Lady.

As I studied her face, I saw that she was more than her painting portrayed her to be. She wore a soft blue dress, and her dark wavy hair surrounded her face like a halo, while her dark eyes were gentle. She smiled down at me with her fangs out, and I thought that she looked like a fierce angel sent down to guard me against this evil.

“Am I dead?” I asked, soft and shaky.

She rubbed my arm as a mother would, and shook her head. “No, silly,” her accent was heavy, but her English was perfect. She sounded like a Transylvanian princess. “You are very much alive.”

“Am I a…a…?” I couldn’t bring myself to say that horrible word.

She shook her head again, kissing the top of my head, and then she placed her cheek against my forehead. “No, you are very much a mortal, my dear.”

I stared at her face and saw that in certain ways she was like her painting. Timeless, ageless, and oh so beautiful. And I just couldn’t get over it.

“Are you all right now, Patricia?” she asked after a moment of me looking at her.

I shivered. “N—no,” I managed to say through chattering teeth. “B—but I will be.” She wrapped her soft white knit shawl around my shoulders, placing me down on the sofa by myself again.

I just sat there, looking into her eyes, searching for nothing in particular, but then I saw she noticed something in me. “You are special, Patricia,” she said gently. “I do not know what it is about you, but I have never seen Samuel so obsessed.” She raised a perfect brown brow at me. “It makes me wonder what kind of creature you truly are.”

“Human,” I shivered again, and I thought for a minute that I might die if it didn’t stop. I just hated my life. I mean, I married a vampire and then had sex with a werewolf. Before all that, I found out that there were more monsters in this world than I could imagine. And to top this weird week (it had only been a
week
!) off, I now had this woman telling me that I was somehow special. Can I just say that I couldn’t handle what was going on at that moment?

Then someone touched me on the shoulder, and I recoiled, protecting myself with my hands.

“Whoa,” Mike said, sitting next to me. “Bébé, it’s gonna be all right.”

Kathryn frowned. “She is in shock, Mr. Wolf. You must give her time.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” Mike said, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles. “I’m forever in your debt.”

Majesty? So that meant she was the queen of the vampires. “Are you the qu—queen?” I asked, shivering.

She laughed and nodded. “Yes, my dear. I am.” No wonder Samuel was so easily contained. The woman must have been at least a thousand years old. “But Mr. Wolf,” she turned to him, taking her hand back, her face becoming gravely serious, “you should not thank me yet, for it is not permanent.”

My brows raised in shock. Panic was quickly becoming my best friend. “What?”

“You have twenty-four hours to leave the Hamptons,” she clarified. “And I suggest that you get out of the state of New York as well.”

“What about Tina and my job?” I asked, voice trembling. “I can’t just leave all that behind.”

She stroked my cheek gently. “But you must, my child. Do not worry, though. I will take care of everything.”

“Why can’t he leave?” I whined. I know I was acting like a three-year-old, but I didn’t care. It just didn’t seem fair.

“I know how you feel,” she said with a frown, and I believed her. “But when you offer yourself to a vampire, he has a right to you. So you must go as far away as humanly possible.”

Even though I heard her, my mind wasn’t making any sense of the words. “I don’t want to leave,” I said with absolutely no conviction.

“I know, but you must,” she commanded sweetly, placing her hand on my shoulder. “I will arrange everything, even your passage. You just worry about protecting yourself. I will have your car brought around so that you may go to the airport.”

“No,” I huffed, on the verge of a mental breakdown. She was going to give me whatever I wanted. “I want his car. The mustang. That’s non-negotiable.”

“Pat,” Mike said, and when I looked at him, his brow crinkled. “Are you crazy?”

“He tried to kill me, Michael,” I said, pointing out the obvious. “I think I deserve a little payback.” I looked at Kathryn, who smiled down at me. “You can make that happen, right?”

She nodded. “Yes, I can. I like you. You have conviction, and you are extremely pretty.”

“And you’re extremely kind.” I blushed, not meeting her warm gaze. “And more beautiful than anyone I’ve ever met.” I was feeling a little better, and I tried to smile at her. But I couldn’t do it without the tears forming in my eyes, so I just let it go.

“Thank you, Patricia. That means a lot coming from you.” She let her hand drop from my shoulder, and I wondered how old she was. “Four thousand one hundred sixty, give or take a few centuries.” She laughed (which sounded like music) at my shock. “Now,” she said seriously, “you must go.”

“Where am I supposed to go?” I asked. After all, I couldn’t go home, that was for sure, or to Pops’s house. So, where else would I be welcome?

“I will have Mr. Wolf figure that out.” She nodded toward him. “Now if you will excuse me, I have a vampire to punish.” She floated away from us, and in a second she was gone.

“Let’s go,” Mike said, trying to help me off the sofa, but I flinched away from him. “Pat, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He was back to normal again, and when he smiled at me, his green eyes sparkled. So I allowed him to pick me up and carry me to the car.

I was still shaking pretty hard, so we took Kathryn’s shawl with us. Once outside, Mike put me down on the hood of Sam’s car. Then he opened the door, placing me inside the passenger’s seat. The keys were already in the ignition, so all he had to do was get in, turn her over, and drive away.

He backed out of the drive carefully, not saying a word to me. I noticed that his face was strangely blank, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was on his mind. But my desire to stay silent overruled any curiosity. At that point, I felt like crying my eyes out, but I just took some deep, calming breathes, promising myself that I would
never
let any man get the better of me again. Including Mike.

The shaking finally stopped when we made our way onto the highway out of the Hamptons. Then Mike pulled the car over, sighing as he turned off the engine and put on the hazards. I averted his gaze by looking out the window, staring into the darkness.

“Are you all right?” he asked after a moment of silence. But I still didn’t look at him or answer his idiotic question. “Pat, look at me, please,” he begged, and I shook my head. “At least talk to me.”

I shrugged and winced. One of my shoulders hurt from the pounding on the bed. “About?”

“What happened back there?” he clarified, in a voice I almost didn’t recognize, and I just shook my head again. “Look at me,” he pleaded, and I turned my head, fixing my gaze on the steering wheel. “In the eyes,” he said, and when I did, his green eyes seemed clouded by guilt. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” I asked without emotion. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

He nodded. “Yes, I do. I was a coward. I should’ve risked my life, like you risked yours for the people you love.”

“Yes,” I whispered, “but even cowards have their moments of glory.” I couldn’t care less if he thought he was a coward. “Where did you send Tina?” I asked, getting off the subject, because I wanted to know if my friend was all right.

He frowned, looking out the window. “I told her to go home. And don’t worry,” he sighed. “She won’t remember a thing.”

“Good,” I huffed.

“I really am sorry,” he said, trying to get it across to me. But I didn’t care. I just wanted him to feel as bad as I did. I wanted him to hurt in places that he never knew existed. I wanted him to cry until there were no tears left. Most importantly, I wanted him to kill me for even thinking that I could trust him.

“They were silver bullets, Mike. You couldn’t have done anything without being killed,” I said with a careful shrug, trying not to hurt my shoulder. “You just cared about yourself more than you cared about me. Everyone has his or her moment of self-preservation. You just had yours at the wrong time.”

“Ouch.” He placed his hand over his stomach like I shot him. “That hurt, Pat.”

“Good.” God, that word felt fantastic. As I looked out of the passenger-side window again, I said, “I wanted it to.”

“I don’t believe you.” He sounded sad, but it didn’t bother me. I didn’t have anything left to say to him, nor did I feel like talking anymore. “Damn it!” he hissed, banging the steering wheel with his fist. “Goddamn him to hell!” Oh, He will. And God might damn the rest of us as well. Who knows?

Mike took a deep breath. “I want you to know that I meant what I said earlier,” he said calmly, and then he turned over the engine again, clicking off the hazards. “I really do love you, Pat. And it doesn’t matter what you say. Nothin’ is gonna change that.”

My head started to hurt from all this nonsense. “They’re just words, Mike. No one gained anything by saying them.” After all, he didn’t have the guts enough to kill me when he had the chance. And with that thought, I looked down at my torn dress. This had been one hell of a night, and one that I wouldn’t forget for as long as I lived.

“I have to ask you somethin’,” he said after a moment’s pause.

I folded my arms, wrapping the shawl closer to my body. “If it’s, ‘will you marry me?’, forget it.”

“No,” he scoffed. “Come home with me?”

“And where might home be?” I asked, and my voice was becoming muffled from my swollen jaw. “You heard Kathryn. We have to get out of the state.”

“I know that!” he hissed, and then he took a breath. “Don’t you think I know that? What I’m askin’ you is if you’d like to live with me in Louisiana.”

“Drive,” I said, pointing to the road, and he bowed his head. He pulled carefully out into no traffic, and we rode in silence.

“Take me home,” I said after a moment’s pause. There was no time for consideration. We just had to act fast.

He closed his eyes to the road. “Where is it?” he asked breathlessly.

“I don’t know.” It was starting to hurt to talk. “You never told me.”

His eyes shot open. He glanced over at me, and then looked at the road, smiling like a fool. “You mean it?” he asked, and I nodded. “Well, okay.” He beamed with enthusiasm. “Jefferson Parish, Louisiana here we come.”

“I bet the pack will just
love
to see you.” Sure, it was mean and sarcastic, but I told myself that I didn’t care.

His stupid smile vanished, and we drove to the airport in agitated silence. Mike found his way there easily, and once we made sure that the car was taken care of we made our way through security. I thought we were going to be in trouble for a minute because I didn’t have any shoes on, but the guard took one look at me and reluctantly let us through. Then Mike went up to the ticket claim while I sat on an uncomfortable plastic blue chair. But what do you expect from an airport, a nice warm bed and fuzzy slippers?

Mike came back over to me, picking me up again so he could take me through more security. By the time we got to departure, we had a whole ten minutes to board the plane and get into our seats in first class that Kathryn had miraculously booked for us. Then at three in the morning we were in the air.

Mike had been generous enough to give me the window seat, and I stared out at the lights of the airport until my eyelids started to sag. The next thing I knew Mike was shaking me awake. Then he carried me off the plane, even though I insisted that I could walk by myself. After going through more security, he placed me down on the titles while he went to go get a taxi.

We waited all of five minutes for one to show up, and then around six we made our way outside. After that he picked me back up and went back to giving me the silent treatment.

Everyone stared as he placed me in the car. Most likely they thought I was sick and that Mike was either my brother or my husband helping me into the cab. If they only knew, they would run away screaming. Mike told the driver where to go, and we quickly pulled away from the curb. Every now and again the driver would glance back in the rearview mirror at me. I guess he wanted to make sure that I wasn’t going to die in his cab. That’s when something amazing happened. I fell asleep again, having dreams of Samuel. Of his fangs sinking into my flesh, and then of him putting me in the coffin by the wall.

Something rose from the dead. Whatever it was came out of the coffin, and it felt familiar. But my vision was too blurry to see it. I looked around for a moment, fixating my gaze on some sort of mirror. Then in a dream-like trance, I walked closer to it, blinking once…twice…and my vision started to clear.

When I stepped in front of the mirror, my vision was perfect. Actually, better than it had ever been, and as I stared into it, there was nothing there. I had no reflection. No body. And no soul.

I opened my mouth to scream and felt a pair of fangs where my top canines should have been. Gasping, I realized what I was: a vampire.

I heard someone laugh from behind me, and I turned to see Samuel smiling ridiculously at me. “I always knew that you would become one of us,” he said. “Sooner or later.”

“Is this a dream?”
Please let it be.

“More along the lines of a prophecy.” He came closer to me, and I didn’t move. I was so afraid that he was going to kill me.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “No!”

“Stay where you are, Samuel,” Kathryn said from behind him. “If you move any closer to her, you will be in great trouble.” Samuel growled at that. “Enough,” she growled back. “Leave.” She pointed to an opening that appeared out of nowhere, and he went through it, winking at me.

“Sorry about that,” she said, trying to comfort me. “Sometimes minds stray. Trust me. It is only a scare tactic.”

BOOK: Graveyard Shifts: A Pat Wyatt Novel
8.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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