The Hunted (35 page)

I strangled the phone cord with my fingers, pressing the receiver harder against my ear. ‘Did he leave a message?’

‘Ah-huh. He said could you please call him when you get a chance.’

‘Did he leave you a number to contact him on?’ Even to me, I sounded desperate.

She chuckled. ‘He sure did.’

I leaned across to the centre of the dining table and grabbed a sheet of the newspaper that George had been reading at breakfast. I tore a piece of the corner off and grabbed the pen that he’d been using to do the crosswords. ‘Okay, give it to me.’

She read the number out to me and then repeated it again, just to be sure. ‘Did he leave you a name?’ I asked, my voice sounding far too shaky not to be noticeable.

‘Absolutely. He said his name was William Granville.’

I nearly dropped the receiver on the floor. I already knew she was going to say his name, but the shock of it still thrilled me. I fumbled the receiver in my shaking hands and stared down at the number on the piece of newspaper in front of me.

‘Elena? Are you there?’

‘Huh? What? Yeah, I’m here. Look, Kayla, I’ve got to go okay?’

‘Hang on, you haven’t told me who this guy—’

I hung up the phone and stared back down at the paper again. He wanted me to contact him. George’s little covert operation to keep me quiet, and away from him, must have piqued his curiosity, especially now that I knew he was a vampire and there was a good chance he knew I was going to be one too.

I stood up from the chair and wandered over to the kitchen. I needed a second to think about this.

I opened the fridge and grabbed a can of Coke. I popped the lid, downing some of the contents. The gassy liquid burned the back of my throat, which was still a little raw from retching earlier.

I took another gulp, hoping the answer to whether or not I should just call him was located somewhere at the bottom of the can. Susan and George had been adamant that he would want to hurt me once he figured out what I was, but I wasn’t sure that I completely agreed. He’d had the opportunity to hurt me at the rave and he didn’t, he was just curious, probably as curious as I was about him and his friends.

I downed the rest of the contents hastily and held the opening up to my eye.

Nope, still no answer there.

I tossed the can into the rubbish and headed back to the table. My stomach felt gassy and slightly distended and no more settled than it had been before.

I sat back down on the chair. My fingers tapped absently against the timber surface of the table. I was nervous.

Should I call him? What did he want?

Tap, tap, tap
went my fingers on the table top.

I looked down at my hand and tucked it in my lap. I was
irritating myself. After a few minutes of quiet deliberation, I shakily picked up the piece of paper, holding the number in front of me.

What could it hurt just to call him?

Susan and George said not to.

Yeah, but was that an
order
or a suggestion?

I’m pretty sure that was an order.

I moved to the phone, my fingers dialling the number without my full consent. It was like having an ‘out of body’ experience. I saw myself doing it. I even felt the press of keys under my fingertips. But I could do little in the way of stopping myself, even though part of my head was screaming in protest.

There was a short silence before the ringing started. Once, twice, three times. I promised myself I’d hang up after five unanswered rings.

‘Hello?’ I slammed the receiver back onto its cradle and stepped away, horrified.

You bloody chicken shit!

I paced a few steps back from the phone on the wall and stared at it. Why had I hung up on him? What was wrong with me?

And the phone started to ring.

I jumped and squealed with surprise. I caught the edge of the sofa with my hand, steadying myself as I looked back up at the ringing phone. What was I afraid of? It was probably just Kayla ringing me back.

I took a few steps towards the telephone. My fingers skimmed the ringing receiver as I slowly picked it up from the cradle. The ringing ceased immediately and I raised it up towards my ear. ‘Hello?’

‘Elena?’

I recognised the British accent immediately—toyed with the notion of simply hanging up again. I couldn’t though. He knew it was me. But how?

Caller ID, you loser.

Several heartbeats passed. My mouth moved up and down, but no words came out.

‘Elena? Is that you?’

I still couldn’t answer. I was still debating about hanging up. It was my stupid fingers that weren’t playing along with the directions from my brain.

‘Elena. I can hear you breathing.’

‘Is this, William?’ I asked, cringing, my voice barely recognisable. What a stupid question to ask. I already knew the answer.

‘Yes, it is. I am so glad that you decided to call me back.’

‘I didn’t,’ I lied, closing my eyes and cringing again. Why did he make me so damn nervous? I’ve killed vânâtors. Talking to one little vampire should be easy.

‘Okay, so you called me, and then I called you back. Technology is quite amazing these days, when you think about it. They have these caller ID functions that allow you to take note of the number dialling you and then you can return the call—quite ingenious really.’

I swallowed the lump in my throat. ‘Are you vying for a job with a telephone carrier, or are you going to tell me what you want?’

He chuckled again. The sound was soft, masculine and very inviting. ‘I wanted to make contact with you, so that we might talk.’

‘I’m listening.’

‘I was really rather hoping it would be face-to-face.’

I’m sure you did.

‘Why don’t you give me an outline of what you want to talk about and then I’ll decide if this goes past a phone call.’

‘Very well.’ There was silence on the line for a couple of seconds. He cleared his throat lightly and began speaking again. ‘I’ve scented what you are, Elena and, to be perfectly frank, I’m very curious as to how you could be possible.’

I held my breath, unable to answer.

‘Given your current age there should be no detectable vampiric blood in your veins—yet there it is. This is somewhat of an anomaly for our kind, as I’m sure you’re well aware since you seem to be rubbing shoulders with The Protectors. Not to mention the fact that I can smell the essence of your blood which seems completely clean of all defects and diseases, which is very rare given that you are still currently human.’ He paused. ‘You are still human, aren’t you?’

I exhaled. ‘What would you like me to say?’

There was another pause. ‘The truth I guess. But I expect, as you don’t know me very well, that you don’t specifically owe me anything. But that was why I was calling. I was hoping that we could get to know each other a little better.’

‘To what purpose?’

He laughed as if the answer was ridiculously obvious. ‘Must there be a reason? I simply find you fascinating.’

He’s lying.

‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to do better than that,’ I said sternly, holding my ground.

‘Well, how about this … I’ll be perfectly honest with you. I’m attracted to your face, body, smell, and your no-nonsense demeanour that I’ve so far observed as quite a contrast to your delicate, feminine appearance. But I also want to know what makes you tick, Elena, and I definitely want to understand what’s pulsing inside your blood … amongst other things.’

There was an extremely long pause where I didn’t answer.

Is he trying to freak me out?

‘So how did I do?’ he said quietly, my silence began to verge on the uncomfortable, the same note of amusement in his voice ringing down the phone line.

I paused. ‘Terrible. I’m hanging up now.’

I replaced the receiver back on the wall and, for some strange reason, I smiled. What an odd sort of reaction. But even I had to admit that there was something undeniably charismatic about him. Presumably it was impossible for him to entice me over the phone, so feeling strangely flattered by his compliments was because I must have enjoyed hearing them, and hence the reason I now smiled. It wasn’t like I hadn’t had men tell me they were attracted to me before, but it was different when he said it.

I shook my head.

No way
.
I can’t let myself be pulled in by his charm
.
I have to keep my wits about me with this one.

A knock sounded loudly on the front door, and for the second time that day, I jumped back in fright.

Well, aren’t I popular today?

I crossed to the door and swung it open. When I saw who was standing on the other side, I shut the door immediately, replacing the deadlocks and the chain.

‘Are we going to play that game again?’ William called through the door as he rapped on it for the second time

I smiled unknowingly. ‘Go away.’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘I wasn’t giving you an option.’

‘I can stand here all night you know.’

‘Well then,’ I said, smiling, and called out as I walked away, ‘let me know how that works out for you.’

I grabbed my bag off the ground by the bureau and headed off upstairs, hopefully to leave him standing at the front door like an idiot. He could sit out there all night for all I cared. But, sooner or later, Susan and George would be home again and they’d blow him to bits if I asked them to. Maybe I wouldn’t even have to ask. Maybe they’d just do it for fun.

I took the last few steps two at a time and opened the door to my bedroom.

‘You shouldn’t leave your window open,’ he said, grinning at me from the window sill. ‘You never know who might be lurking around the place.’

He dropped down to the floor inside and leant back against the window, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

I, on the other hand, choked on a scream and clasped a hand to my chest to stop my heartbeat from entering warp speed.

He stood motionless by the window, whistling lightly and staring intently at me as I tried to calm myself down.

Meanwhile, I still had the good sense to start unzipping my bag, protection my first thought even in the midst of a good squeal and a race to developing angina. But as I felt around inside my bag, trying to be circumspect about retrieving my blade, the air around me stirred, and something cold brushed against my hand.

‘Are you looking for this?’ he asked politely as he lowered his sunglasses. He pulled something from behind his back and held it out in front of him. My knife.

‘Where did you get that?’ I choked out in fear and in shock.

‘From inside your bag.’

Holy crap, this guy’s fast. I don’t stand a chance.

I looked at my blade in his hands and then back at my bag, which I was gripping by one of the shoulder straps. I let it fall to the ground. There was nothing inside that I could use for defence, unless of course he was as allergic to algebra as I was.