Scion's Freedom (Siren Publishing Classic) (6 page)

He had no idea what he was going to do about her. What was she? A witness? A mistake? An unexplainable force he could not escape? Dangerous. She was dangerous. He needed more road and drive time than he had to figure it out. They were home.

David’s house was in a secluded, heavily wooded area outside Dawsonville. No neighbors could be seen from the small three-bedroom Craftsman bungalow. The driveway was almost half a mile long. Dense evergreens mixed with hardwoods covered the property. It was like being cocooned away from the rest of the world.

The interior had been restored with painstaking care. Period colors, furnishings, and reproduction fixtures decorated the whole house. It looked just the way Cassy remembered the original time. She was curious about how such a place survived the chaos of thirty years ago or where he came up with the means to do such a restoration since.

“I’ll have to go to the store. There is nothing for you to eat here,” he said as he threw his keys on the kitchen table. She took in every detail. “This was my grandparents’ house. The basement was converted into a more modern living area with blacked-out windows when it came to me. There is a pull-out sofa-bed and a mini-fridge. I have cable and a pool table down there. You should be okay for a while.”

“Aren’t you staying?”

“It will depend on what Cap says. If he thinks I should go back, then no. I can stay with a friend in the city. The door is this way. “

He guided her to the basement stairs. The light switch was an old-fashioned two push-buttoned affair. It gave a hard, loud click as he pressed the top button. The bottom button popped out as the top sank into the plate. The lights burst into life. The dark cave became a bright playground.

Standing at the foot of the stairs, Cassy could see a flat screen hanging over a gas fireplace mantle. Shelves of DVDs lined the bookcase beside it. A black leather sofa took up most of one wall. A dark stained oak coffee table sat in front complete with remote and a stack of magazines. Floor lamps stood at either end of the couch. A pool table took up the other side of the basement. Another hard click on the panel at the foot of the stairs brought an array of neon colors online. Old beer signs from before The Fall hung on the walls behind it. They gave the green table felt an odd tint.

“Welcome to my home, Cassy Daniels. Make yourself comfortable while I make a few calls.” Without waiting for her to thank him, he ran up the stairs. The basement door slammed behind him. Cassy guessed they were not going to finish their earlier discussion.

The quick exit of her apartment had left her with no money, no ID, and no purse. Her hair had dried on its own in a tangled mess. Tugging her fingers through it let her know just how tangled it was. It would take at least two hours just to fix. Erica would have thrown a tantrum if she could see it in this state.

Cassy imagined the look her face would have had and what she would have said. “This is no way for a lady to appear in public. Just look at your hair!” Much fussing with a brush and comb would have ensued. But, now, it never would again. Erica was gone. Cassy could feel her throat tighten and her eyes sting with tears. She looked around for tissues but found none. Hands over her face, she sat on the sofa trying not to cry.

The stair door opened. David came down in a slow, heavy-footed huff. “Cap says I need to stay with you here. Guess I’m on guard duty. You can give me your statement when I get back later or tomorrow. The cops outside your place were killed. The blood and dent on my trunk was Officer Trent’s head being thrown at us from above.” He folded his arms in front of his chest and looked away.

“I am sorry about your friends,” she said, “It is hard to lose people you’ve known for a long time.” Her voice became softer, quieter as she spoke. Tears threatened to flow.

He nodded and looked at her. His pained expression softened into sympathy. “I guess you do know. I’m sorry about Erica. Can I get you anything?”

“I could use a comb and something to hold my hair. A rubber band, maybe?”

“A comb I can do. I need to go into town. No one knows where you are except Cap and me. We plan on keeping it that way for a while. Do you have a preference on food?” He did his best to be polite. She could see the hurt bubbling just below the surface.

“I had some fresh blood last night and a little this morning. Blood-based products will be fine for the next few days.” He pulled a comb from his back pocket, gave it to her, turned, and began walking away. “David?” He stopped on the stairs but didn’t turn around. “Thank you. For helping me, I mean.” He didn’t acknowledge her and left.

Once she was sure he was gone, Cassy crept up the stairs. None of them creaked. The cordless phone was located in the kitchen, hidden by the old-fashioned refrigerator. She called to let her assistant know she would be out of town for an unspecified period of time. As she hung up, Erica’s note came to mind. She pulled it out and read it over and over again. The words had not changed. “Call your father.” Cassy picked up the handset but could not bring herself to dial the numbers. She let it slide back into place on the charger with a little click.

Exploring the rest of the house occupied her for only a few minutes more. It was not large. Two bedrooms and the bath were downstairs with the kitchen and living room. Upstairs was one large bedroom. This was David’s room. The other two bedrooms were very period. This one was more modern and messy with a distinctive lived-in look. Not wanting to pry in such a personal space, Cassy returned to the basement to wait for him to come back. She examined the windows. They were painted shut, but she was sure she could wrench them open, if she had to escape.

A quick flip through the channels found an old black-and-white film from the 1940s. Cassy remembered seeing it in the theater when it was new. Nostalgia took her in a moment, helping her forget her problems. She sat back and began picking knots out of her long, chocolate hair.

It was near sunrise before David came back. Bags from several different stores in New Atlanta lay on the floor. He handed her a packet of ponytail holders and removed the beer in the mini fridge while she braided her carefully picked-out hair. She pulled out each item and looked at it. There were the usual blood sausages and canned black soups. Two bright red donation bags from Vein filled another. Cans of blood soda and a bottle of bloodred wine rolled out of the third. There was enough for several days, more if she rationed.

He had been back to her apartment. Her purse, makeup bag, and overnight bag were on the table. She looked through the purse to find her cell phone and planner. Nothing appeared to be missing. The makeup bag also seemed complete. Under her compact was the thumb drive Erica had shown her. Cassy closed the bag as casually as she could.

“Someone ransacked the place. It was weird. Your room was untouched, like they didn’t expect you to have whatever they were looking for. Erica’s room was almost empty. Any idea what they were hunting?”

“No,” she lied. She reminding herself of Erica’s other instruction not to go to the police. She couldn’t bring herself to make the call Erica wanted, but she could heed the warning until she knew more.

“Well, just so you know, the upstairs doesn’t have UV-protected windows. My grandparents didn’t have vampires in mind when they restored this place before The Fall. It would be best if you stayed down here until full sunset. The black-out paint on the glass should do the trick,” David warned.

“Thanks for the tip. I’ll do that.” Cassy smiled. “Mind helping me with the bed? I don’t know how one of these works.” She hitched her thumb to the pullout sofa. They shifted the coffee table out of the way. He tossed the cushions into the floor.

“Sure. It’s really easy. You just have to give a good…hard…tug,” he grunted. The bed came out in a smooth gliding motion. The mattress was already made up. He reached behind the sofa and pulled out a clear plastic bag protecting a handmade quilt and pillow. “Just don’t eat in bed. This quilt is older than I am.”

“No problem.” She yawned. “Excuse me! It has been a long night. Are you sure there won’t be any sunlight down here?”

He gave the windows an appraising look. “No. I think you will be safe enough. I don’t want our star witness bursting into flames and taking out my man-cave at the same time.” He smirked.

“Will you sit with me until full sunrise? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“You’re supposed to be a big, bad vampire. Do you really need a human to sit with you?” The look on his face told her he hoped the answer was no. She could not interpret the reason. Was it anger making him want to turn her away or an inability to deal with her neediness?

“I’m still a person. Until last night, I had never spent a night alone in my life. Erica was more than my best friend. She was my constant companion and protector. There was never a time I wasn’t looked after.” The words were getting harder to say. “I’m alone in a strange place. I’ve lost the one person I counted on and am being hunted. I’ve hurt you. I understand your ire, but I need someone just to sit by me. I want to feel safe. Just be here until I fall asleep. Please? You don’t have to talk if you don’t want or even look at me. It won’t take long and then you can leave.” Cassy felt like a small child asking for a nightlight. Only the monsters this time were real and lurking in more than the shadows.

“All right, I’ll do it. But just this once, okay?”

He went to the switch panel and turned off all the lights except the neon signs. Cassy slid out of her jeans and crawled into bed. She turned facing the wall. David sat down behind her, leaning against the sofa. The length of his legs ran along her back. There was some comfort to be had in his presence. She inhaled deep and closed her eyes.

“Cassy?”

“Hmmm?” She did not move.

“Why have you never been alone but you don’t live with a group? I thought vampires tended to be solitary hunters or members of a kiss.” Curiosity filled his voice.

“It’s complicated,” she mumbled, “For now, let’s just say the old adage ‘It is better to reign in hell than serve in heaven’ is still true.”

“Oh. What are you running from? The Fall was thirty years ago. Supers have been public knowledge for the last twenty-five.”

“That’s complicated, too. Can we talk this evening?”

“Sure. Good night or day or whatever it is you say.”

“Happy dreams. She used to always tell me to have happy dreams,” Cassy sighed.

He did not say anything else. The neon lights made a slight humming. It was so quiet here, not like the city. Exhaustion overtook her, and she drifted off to sleep just as dawn broke.

When sunset came, she was still lying in the same position but alone. She lay in bed listening. There was no noise from upstairs. No water ran or pan sizzled. No one was talking on the phone. She turned on one of the lamps.

Sitting up, she reached for her overnight bag. There was no telling what he had thrown in there. The jeans she had on could be reused. Unzipping the bag revealed another pair of jeans, a couple of T-shirts, a button-down long-sleeve shirt, socks, and the hot pink wig. The unspoken reminder glowed. Like the memory, Cassy shoved it to the bottom of the bag.

A T-shirt came out first. Holding it in her hand, she gave it more consideration. Even though the weather would not bother her, it was cold outside. Humans and supers not able to withstand cold weather liked to see things they think are normal. It had become habit to change with the seasons, even if unnecessary. David was still a human. She pulled out the button-down.

It was a few hours before she heard the back door open and slam shut. Only one set of familiar footsteps moved to the basement door. Cassy sat on the sofa watching the news. She tried to appear casual, relaxed. He sat down beside her, took the remote, and turned off the TV.

“It’s time we had a talk,” he said.

“About which part?” He gave her a look that said he was all business, for the time being.

“About your roommate. I need you to tell me everything. Was she working on a new story or something old? Do you know who she was meeting? Did she have a lover or an ex? Who were her enemies? Tell me anything and everything.” He sat a miniature digital recorder down on the coffee table she had pulled back into place.

Cassy recounted everything from waking up to an unplugged alarm clock to the previous night’s events. Those things were not secret. She left out finding the thumb drive in her makeup bag and Erica’s note. He shook his head.

“There has to be more to it than that. What about earlier events?”

“I don’t know if I can,” she replied.

“Try to remember any other details,” he soothed.

“You don’t understand. I don’t know who to trust.”

“What do you mean? You don’t think you can trust me? That’s rich, coming from you!” Anger colored his tone. A furrow creased his brow as his face tightened with stress. “I brought you, a vampire, into my home, and you don’t trust me.”

“It’s not just you. I want to, really. But she left me this note,” Cassy said, pulling it out of her pocket. She handed it to David. His eyes scanned it twice.

“Who is your father?” His tone was flat. It was clear he had some experience with nepotism and cronyism. Corruption was rampant when the economy collapsed. With money not having any real value, survival became about who one was related to or knew. Few had the skills or resources necessary to survive alone. During the early years post-Fall, even the supernatural perished when they were found out or died along with so many from need.