“They’re going to leave!” she shouted. “Tonight!”
Julian didn’t even tell her to calm down. “What?”
“Yeah, I couldn’t stay long. . . . There’s something in that apartment that keeps trying to find me. But I was alone in the sitting room for a few seconds, and I heard Eleisha and Wade talking about a train leaving at midnight from Jack London Square! They’re going home to Portland.”
Julian put his fist back to his mouth again, but this time he was simply thinking. They were leaving sooner than he expected.
He did not wish to destroy Eleisha yet—and possibly not for some time—if she was going to continue seeking other elders who might be in hiding. He needed her to find them, and he wanted her to view the church in Portland as safe so that she would remain there and he could keep track of her. She was weak of character and did not like being alone. He believed that no matter who he killed, she would keep on looking, keep on trying.
So he had to destroy Robert before they left San Francisco, and he couldn’t risk this if Robert was traveling with three other vampires—and a mortal who Mary swore was a telepath.
Julian had to thin the group. But how?
He forced himself to calm, to think.
He couldn’t expose himself yet, and his only possible tools were Mary and a newborn vampire.
Jasper could hardly stand up to Robert or Philip.
But would he need to?
From what Angelo had told him long ago, Julian understood that although the newly turned were not immune to each other’s gifts, even a young untrained vampire could defend against a straight telepathic attack, to a degree, by putting up a mental block. Julian was the only exception to this, as he had no psychic defense at all.
He turned to Jasper. “Your test has come earlier than expected. I have enemies trying to leave the city . . . as Mary has just told us. I need you to keep them from leaving. Mary will guide and assist you.”
“I will?” Mary asked uncertainly. “How can I help him?”
“You can show yourself if need be,” he answered. “I want them to feel pressure now, to feel that they are attacked from several sides. I just don’t wish them to know I am involved.”
“So, I can, like . . . pop out and scare them if I need to?”
“Yes.”
She smiled. “Okay.”
“How will I know who they are?” Jasper asked, looking more uncertain, even nervous.
Forgetting Mary and turning his attention back to Jasper, Julian described all five members of the group, starting with Eleisha and finishing with Rose. He did not know if Rose and Philip were becoming telepathic, but he was harsh in his warnings about Eleisha and Robert—and he mentioned Mary’s questionable assertions about Wade.
“If need be, you can use your own mind to try to push them out,” he said. “But your goal is to avoid that need.”
“How?”
“By keeping to the shadows, staying out of sight until the last second.”
Julian did not bother to add that this strategy had always worked for him in the past because his undead condition combined with his complete lack of telepathic power made him invisible to others of his kind until they actually
saw
him. Otherwise, he was a black, empty hole in the night, and they could not sense his presence at all.
Jasper might not have this advantage.
“Once you find them,” Julian went on, “Mary will work to break them up. You must stay near them but out of sight until you have a close proximity to one or two. Don’t try to attack more than two, and don’t strike until you know you can take one of their heads instantly. This will incapacitate the other one and give you time to take the second one’s head.”
He also didn’t mention that it was possible the psychic release from the first one could incapacitate Jasper as well . . . but he was new and may not be as heavily affected.
“Take their heads?” Jasper asked.
Julian tried not to grimace, having forgotten to whom he was speaking. “Yes.” He lifted his sheathed sword from where it lay on the mantel. It troubled him to send Jasper off with a two-hundred-year-old sword, but there wasn’t time to get another one.
“Come here and watch me,” Julian said, pulling out the blade.
He showed Jasper how to properly grip the hilt and position himself for a hard strike. Then Jasper practiced the act himself. Surprisingly, he took to the sword quickly, swinging it with decent balance and speed.
“Good,” Julian said with a nod. “Just aim for the throat. You’ll notice your hand-to-eye coordination is much sharper now, and you are stronger.” He moved closer to Jasper, reaching out to grip the hilt. “But no matter what you do, do not attack Eleisha.”
“That blond girl you talked about first?”
Julian allowed a small wave of fear to seep out, enjoying the satisfaction of watching Jasper’s face turn paler.
“Yes. If you kill her, I’ll tear your head off myself. Do you understand?”
He let more fear seep out.
Jasper’s hands began to shake. “Yeah, I got it.”
“Also,” Julian added, running possible outcomes through his mind, “you would do best to avoid Robert if possible. He’s the strongest, and you should leave him to me. But you can target the others, and I want at least two of them dead.” He cut off the flow of fear and tried to make his voice sound comforting—not an easy feat. “If you succeed, and you keep them from leaving, I’ll make certain you have everything you could want: clothes, cars, rooms like this one, anything.”
Jasper’s eyes glowed again. “Where do I start?”
Julian weighed possible options. Jasper would have to try to catch them in the open, so that Mary could help split them up.
“Go to the Amtrak station. Wait for Mary to help you track them, and when they arrive, make sure you cut them off.” He paused. “But you’ll need to be at full strength, so you should feed first.”
“How do I do that? I mean . . . is there anything I need to know?”
Once again, if it were possible, Julian would have smiled. Perhaps he had done well turning Jasper.
“A few things,” Julian said, and he began to explain the best tactics for hunting.
Jasper walked out onto Mason Street wearing Julian’s long coat with the sword hidden underneath and five hundred dollars in his pocket—just like something out of a movie.
He almost couldn’t believe what happened to him. Maybe those years of bad luck had been his just due while his life built up toward this moment, this night. In all his fantasies, he could never have imagined this.
He was immortal. He was unstoppable. He was rich.
And this was so much better than what he’d seen in vampire movies. He felt like something right out of
Highlander,
walking down the street with a sword hidden under his coat.
He had a mission.
But Julian had said he’d need to feed. As of yesterday, Jasper had never once broken the law—but only because he didn’t like trouble. But now, trouble didn’t seem like such a big deal. . . . In fact, it seemed new and shiny.
He turned down Sacramento and headed toward Hunting-ton Park, which was mainly a haven of upscale condos and town houses. Sacramento Street was way too busy, so he slipped in between several apartment buildings and looked around for the darkest section of a parking lot. He just kept walking for a while until he spotted a young woman who came out of a security building and walked beneath some trees toward a silver Lexus. He couldn’t see—or hear—anyone else close by.
A beep sounded when she hit the button on her keys to unlock the car, and he came up behind her.
“Can I get a ride?” he asked, wondering what would happen after he spoke. Julian had explained how a gift would surface to help him hunt. Julian’s gift was fear, and that would be awesome, but Jasper kind of hoped his would be more like that of the Philip guy Julian told him about. That would be the best.
The girl turned to look at him, and his interest went up several notches. She was pretty, with long blond hair, wearing a tight pink T-shirt and small diamonds in her ears—the kind of girl who normally wouldn’t bother to spit on him.
She didn’t seem startled and glanced at his coat. “You borrow that from your big brother?”
He went cold. She was making fun of him?
“No, it’s mine,” he lied defensively.
But his words sounded different this time, and her expression changed. He felt something flowing out from his body as he recounted all the times people had ignored him or discounted him or rushed to be away from his company.
The girl suddenly looked like she felt . . . sorry for him.
“I didn’t mean to say that,” she said. “It’s been a long day.”
The feeling inside him increased until she was looking at him like he was some sort of lost puppy. Her eyes filled with sympathy.
“Poor thing,” she said. “You said you need a ride?”
Pity? His gift was pity?
No!
He wanted to wipe that look off her face as fast as he could. He should be feared, desired. There was nothing about him to be pitied! Not now.
As these thoughts passed through him, her expression wavered, and he remembered that Julian said his gift would help him to hunt more quickly and quietly, but he had to keep it focused. He didn’t want to mess this up, and he rushed to her before the sympathy in her eyes completely faded. He grabbed her, clamping one hand over her mouth before she could scream, and he jerked the back door open with his free hand, pushing her halfway inside the car and then shoving her down beneath him. The sword hampered him, but he couldn’t believe the strength in his arms and hands, and he pinned her down easily, driving his teeth into her neck, still keeping his hand over her mouth.
She struggled and tried to scream but kept getting weaker. The blood tasted so good, he was gulping it down, feeling the strength in his body growing stronger, and then he saw pictures passing through his mind . . . her father playing golf, her mother drinking from a martini glass, her sixteenth birthday party with a bunch of adults she barely knew, a string of boyfriends in polo shirts. . . .
The images faded. Her heart stopped.
He wanted it to go on, but she was dead.
“Hurry up,” someone said from behind him.
He jumped back out of the car and whirled around, his right hand going for the sword. Then he saw Mary’s transparent form standing a few feet away from the car. He hadn’t actually talked to her yet, but in truth, she looked more like the girls he’d known in high school, and even as a ghost . . . she seemed more familiar to him than the girl he’d just fed on.
“You better get moving,” she said. “They’re not at the apartment, and I can’t find them. That means they’re on their way. Julian told you to feed fast and get started.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Yeah? Well, you don’t know Julian yet. You screw this up, and he’ll make you sorry.”
That scared him and he looked around, debating on the fastest way to get to the train station.
“Just take the car!” Mary said. “Her keys are right there on the ground.”
She was making him feel stupid, and at the same time, he didn’t want do all this alone.
“You’ll meet me there?” he asked.
She tilted her head to one side, looking at him. “Yeah,” she said, sounding nicer now. “I’ll meet you.”
He grabbed the keys. Then he slid the dead girl’s body farther into the backseat and slammed the door. Attempting to climb into the driver’s seat, he found he couldn’t sit while wearing the sword, so he took it off his belt and leaned it on the floor of the passenger side. Then he was somewhat unsettled by the alien-looking dashboard. He’d learn to drive in an old Dodge Dart.
“But you’d better hurry,” Mary said, and she blinked out.
He started the Lexus.
He still couldn’t believe his gift was pity.
As Eleisha walked through the large doors of the Jack London Square station, she was beginning to worry about Rose—who was growing more and more anxious with each passing moment. Her eyes were turning glassy. Her face was beginning to look pasty rather than pale, and her hands were shaking.
From their very first meeting, Rose had never tried to hide her fear of traveling, of leaving the safety of her home. But throughout the course of her undead existence she’d managed two successful—and long—journeys on her own. Then again . . . in fairness, the last one had been well over a hundred years ago. She had been holed up in her apartment for a long time now, leaving it only when the need to hunt grew desperate.
Although she was the one who expressed a desire to join Eleisha and to begin a new purpose, perhaps she had underestimated her own terror of truly leaving the safety of her home?
Eleisha didn’t know how to help her.
After walking a few steps into the brightly lit train station, Rose faltered and then stopped, blinking in open fear at the sights all around her. A modern-day Amtrak building must look quite different to her than a station had in 1870.