The Soul's Mark: HUNTED (16 page)

It was Amelia’s turn to roll her eyes, and she did it with such exaggeration, she was sure she would have made Angelle proud.  It was really too bad that Eric missed it.  But, by the time she had finished her eye roll, he was already at the gates and had moved the car back out and onto the street.

Amelia sighed and started towards them when the real question struck her.  Why was Officer McLean here?  Like a shot, dread coursed through her veins and blasts of cold and hot rushed over her.

When Amelia reached the gate, Eric had his head under the hood of the police car hollering for Officer McLean to give the key a try.  The starter grinded a few times, trying to turn over, and then the engine caught and sputtered to life.

“What’s happened?” Amelia asked, shifting her gaze between Eric as he slammed the hood down and Officer McLean who was squinting at the open gate.

“Don’t know,” Officer McLean said, scratching his head, and then he shrugged.  “The motor stalled.”

Amelia glanced at the police car briefly, baffled by the answer for a second before she clued in.  “Sorry, I meant, why are you here?  Has something else happened?”

“No, Ma’am,” he replied, smoothing out his wrinkled trousers and then straightening the brassy nameplate on his jacket.  “Just wanted to give you guys an update.”  He looked rumpled.  If Amelia had to guess, she would presume that he most likely hadn’t slept since the bodies were found, and the telltale signs of exhaustion were creeping their way across his face.

“Come on up to the house,” Amelia said cautiously.  She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up.  Officer McLean looked…tired, but there was something more beneath the raccoon encircled eyes that Amelia just couldn’t put her finger on.  Fear?  It would make sense with a serial killer on the loose.  Especially since he was the captain of the police force and all, but still, Amelia was sure that wasn’t it.  “I’m sure Mitchell would like to hear it.”

Officer McLean jumped back at the mention of Mitchell’s name, and he pulled the car door open abruptly.  “Probably shouldn’t.  Lots to do at the station,” he said with haste.  He caught himself and tried to compose himself as Amelia and Eric gaped at him.

Officer McLean had always been close with Mitchell.  In Amelia’s opinion, she would have said that McLean actually idolized him, almost to the point of a sick hero-worship.  She quickly chalked his reaction up to lack of sleep and tension, because really, McLean would never, could never, fear Mitchell.

He cleared his throat and swiped the back of his arm across his forehead, before climbing inside the car.  He shut the door and lowered the window, poking his head out.  “Nothing has changed.  We haven’t found anything suspicious and no real evidence that could link anyone to the murders.”

With a staggeringly quick move, Eric was at the window leaning in, his arm resting against the top of the frame.  “So there’s nothing new,” Eric said.  “And you drove here instead of calling because…?”  Clearly, he hadn’t missed whatever it was that Amelia had picked up on, and she still wasn’t sure what it was that was making her feel so uncomfortable.

Officer McLean seemed to have recovered completely as Eric questioned him, the earlier signs of uneasiness appeared to have dissolved, leaving in its place a tired middle-aged man.  He sighed loudly.  “I was going to try to get Mr. Lang to put you guys on a lock down; seal up the gates, keep everyone together.  But,” he nodded towards Joe, who was secured in his booth at the gate, “Joe tells me he already did it.”

Amelia glanced at the portly guard who had a cagey look in his eyes, and he nodded in confirmation with just a quick jerk of the head.  She was relieved to see that Megan had ensured the spell reached his post, since he was the first means of access to her guarded world behind the gates.  She glanced back at the car just as Officer McLean shifted it into reverse and slowly started to back up, making a sharp turn, as he maneuvered his car around on the road in a three-point turn.  “I’ll call next time,” he grunted and then sped down the road.

“Huh,” Amelia grunted, watching the car as it turned out of sight.

“Probably just stress,” Eric offered, confirming he had noticed the strange behavior of one of their closest allies in town.

“He’s run off of his feet,” Joe said.  “This misses had tea with his wife this morning.  He hasn’t been home since yesterday.  She said he’s working like a dog to find the bastards before they can get their hands on Mr. Lang.”  Creases littered his brow as he frowned.  “It’d be a real tragedy for this town if anything happened to him.  He scares the hell out of me,” he said with a chuckle.  “But he’s one heck of a boss and well, most of us consider him and you ma’am, family.”

Amelia was stunned silent at the intensity behind Joe’s words.  She had always been fond of him and knew that he was one of those loyal dogs, the kind that would stick around until death, but to actually hear it was something else.  More shocking was that there was more behind his words than loyalty.  They also confirmed that he knew what was happening.  Someone had told him.

Before Amelia fully wrapped her head around the idea, Eric stated bluntly, “You know the truth.”

“Yes, Mr. Carter.  Mr. Lang himself came down.  He was waiting here when my shift started.”  A wide grin spread across his face.  “Stupid vamp wanted me to go home.  Tried to bribe me with doubling my annual salary.  But the way I see it, you guys need me.  I’m your first line of defense.  Not gonna back away when my family needs me.  Nope,” he said, shaking his head.   “Not me.  I’m not made that way.”

Amelia didn’t know what to say.  It always floored her when one of the locals spoke about Mitchell as if he was one of them.  They loved him, which for some, like McLean, came close to hero-worship.  Tears of gratification sprung to her eyes and before she knew it, she was hugging the guard, a wet circle forming on his shoulder.

“Now, now.  None of that, Miss.  I’ll be just fine.  Don’t you fret.”  He patted her head awkwardly and put a stiff arm around her, obviously not used to or comfortable with a crying woman.  “Your cousin fixed up my booth.  Said no one will be able to touch me.”

Amelia sniffed and pulled herself together, dropping her hold on him and wiping away the tears.  “You’re an amazing man, Joe,” she said in a choked voice.  “We’re lucky to have you on our side.”

Joe gave her a warm smile and then headed to his ‘office’, swinging the gated door shut behind him.  Amelia watched as he picked up a book of crossword puzzles and a pen, and flipped through to the puzzle he had been working on.  Eric slung an arm around her shoulder.  “He’ll be fine, Millie, and I doubt we’d get him to leave anyway.  He’s worked here since he was sixteen.”

Amelia stood there searching for any weakness in the armor that surrounded Joe and was glad to see that it looked like Megan had added an extra layer.  A glossy shield, the same shield that Amelia had used against Eric, was covering the defense barrier.  While she was checking, she racked her brain, trying to find a reason to make him leave, but then the cold hard reality hit her.  Behind the shield was probably the safest place for him.  The hunters surely knew about him.  He really was the front lines and sending him home would most certainly result in his death.  She would have to make arrangements for Franny, Joe’s wife, to be moved here as well.  With her new mission in mind, she shrugged off Eric’s arm and started at a slow jog, scanning the magical armor as she went.

Back at the house, Amelia and Eric found everyone cramped up in the study, which in Amelia’s opinion looked as if it had been converted into a war room.  On the left, there were a slew of pictures and maps covering the wall.  The desk had been pushed up against the center wall, her easel propped on it, displaying an oversized map of the town.  Mitchell stood next to it, a pointer in hand, her family sitting in a semi-circle, all eyes focused on him.

“As you can see, they’ve pegged us all, the marked humans included,” he said, pointing to the left of the room where the wall of pictures hung.  “What we don’t know is why they haven’t attacked outright.  In the past, hunters would always hit and clean out a town’s vampire population in a single night and be gone by morning.  We have something they’re scared of.”

“Or something they want,” Angelle offered, glancing at Amelia as she took a seat beside her.  Eric followed Amelia into the room and sat down next to Megan.

Mitchell’s sergeant-like demeanor faltered for just a second at Angelle’s comment, and Amelia knew he had the same concerns, but he recovered quickly and shook his head, addressing everyone as he spoke.  “If it was just something they wanted, they would have already attacked, killed everyone and taken her.”  And then he nodded to Amelia.  “Is everything in order?”

“Yup, we are secure,” Amelia said.  “Megan made a bubble out of the shield so they can’t get in even from the sky.  Oh, and we saw Officer McLean at the gates.  He wanted to make sure we were on lock down.”  She exchanged a look with Mitchell and muttered, “He was acting kind of elusive.”  Mitchell’s face hardened for half a second with consideration, before he dismissed it as nothing.

“Have they found anything?” Erin questioned.

All eyes focused on Amelia, and she truly wished that she had some good news but there wasn’t any.  “Nope, nothing that is of any use.”

Amelia was grateful that Mitchell didn’t hang on to the disappointment her words instilled on the group, and he pushed forward quickly, taking the focus off her.  “Luke, did you guys find anything useful?”

“Nothing,” Lola answered instead.  “There’s nothing in the library on hunters other than your journals, and there’s nothing here that stands out other than Amelia, that is.  Maybe we should check out the crime scenes again?”

Mitchell seemed to consider this idea for about half a second before he shot it down.  “Too risky.  We don’t even know how many of them are here, who they are, where they are.  I’m standing by the lock down.  No one that has been singled out is going to step outside the gates.”

“So that’s the plan?” Eric said, hostilely, and Megan grabbed his hand before he could jump out of his chair.  The gesture kept him sitting but just barely.  “We’re just gonna hide!  We should be out there hunting the killers.  Ripping out their throats.  For Mabel.”

“Rushing out will just get more of us killed,” Mitchell said.  “We need to lay low.  Come up with a plan.  Clearly trying to find them didn’t work out so well.”  He shot Amelia a quick glance, and what he was trying to say clicked.  Heat rushed to Amelia’s cheeks as she clued in that during his nightly escapades he had been searching for the threat.

“Eric,” Amelia said softly.  “You can’t be reckless.  It’s not just you anymore.”  She cut him a meaningful look, and he relaxed slightly pressing himself closer to Megan.

“Tyler?” Mitchell prompted.  That’s when Amelia realized what this meeting actual was.  A de-briefing.  She hadn’t been the only one with a mission this morning.

“I called the funeral home.  We really can’t do much until the investigation is over, but I bought the caskets and head stones.  Jess and Justin’s ashes have been sent over.  I guess they don’t need them for the investigation.  Jimmy is preparing one of the Lang family plots for Mabel at Cedar Stone Cemetery and is waiting to hear from us about what we want to do for the others.  He faxed over a sample program so we could start planning the service.”

When Tyler finished, Angelle jumped in.  “Mitch, I know this isn’t that important and all, but we need to fix Eric’s room.  There was some structural damage and err… his floor is kind of on my bed right now and we are sort of out of rooms.”

“Do any of you know how to fix walls and ceilings?” Megan asked quickly, which was answered by a bunch of blank stares.

“Seriously?” Amelia said.  “You guys have been around for centuries.”

“It really wasn’t something we needed to know,” Luke said.  “It’s easier to hire someone.”

Amelia sighed and glanced around, taking in the worn expressions on her family’s faces and she couldn’t help but feel like they were missing something or maybe someone.  “Mitch, did you take an inventory of the humans and vampires?  Is everyone accounted for?”

“I did it,” Luke said.  “Lola and I made the rounds this morning.  Everyone has been accounted for.”

With a gesture from Mitchell, Erin took the floor next.  “After leaving one bag per vamp, we have fifteen pints of blood left, but I haven’t rationed anything for us yet.”

“We’ll be out of blood within a day,” Angelle said, her voice strained and unnerved.

“How much do you guys need?” Megan asked, turning a touch green with the question.  It was clear that she had thought they had plenty of a supply.

“Most of us take one full pint a day,” Eric whispered, keeping his eyes on the floor as if his was ashamed of his answer.

“We can cut it down to half a pint,” Mitchell said, as he began to pace back and forth in front of the map of the town.  “But anything less than that could be dangerous for the humans here.”

“Does anyone know what the safe amount for someone to donate is?” Megan asked.

“Yeah,” Amelia answered.  “A person can give no more than two pints every eight weeks and that’s pushing it.”

“So you’re saying that even if every human here gave the max, we’d only have enough for another two days?”  Erin asked, and Amelia knew it was a stupid thought, but part of her wanted to jump up and do a dance.  Erin had figured it out.  Obviously all of Amelia’s tutoring had paid off.  She hadn’t even needed to think about the answer.

“Maybe we should send all the humans out of the complex,” Luke said, his hazel eyes narrowed, deep in thought.

“Not an option,” Mitchell said, shooting the idea down.  “The only human here that hasn’t been singled out as marked is Megan and that was last week.  They may know about her now.”

“We could call the prison,” Lola suggested.

“Out of the question,” Amelia replied, jumping to her feet.

“Millie, it seems like the only option,” Erin said.

Amelia’s brow creased as she worked her mind, trying to think of any alternative.  For a moment, she blocked out everything; Mitchell, her family, the pictures, everything, as she tried to figure out a solution to what she was sure was the most important problem at hand.  If they lost control, let the hunger get to them, everyone was as good as dead.  It was clear that the vampires were probably one of their biggest assets.  They had experience.  They could fight.  They knew what to expect from the hunters, so locking them up—which was her first idea—wasn’t going to work.  When the answer came to her, it was evident that it was really the only option.  “No, the only real option is that I will go to the blood bank.”