Cranberry Blood Page 5

  “This Vampire is over six hundred years old. No one has ever found him—”

  “He has been found. Members of my family have fought him, but he killed them. During the last major attack, he took a serious hit but managed to get away. He went into hiding for a hundred years.”

  “When was that?”

  “Around the end of the sixteenth century.”

  Brendan hopped off the desk and rested his hands on his hips. “And now the one Vampire you know has a direct link to him is in town? Strange.”

  “Welcome to my world and the shitty luck I have.”

  “Okay.”

  I stared at him. “Okay?”

  “Just wanted to make sure I understood how important this is.”

  “It’s very important. If my Gran saw Luca at The Sphinx tomorrow night, then I am going to be there.” I walked over and unclipped the lock on the mahogany trunk.

  “Well, then, this would be one of the reasons she sent me here. You know, to help,” he said, standing beside me.

  “I won’t need you.”

  “You attract Vampires like a flame attracts moths, and you are obviously suicidal, so I will be going with you.”

  “Taking this guardian thing to a whole new level, aren’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from my words, but he ignored the comment.

  A sly smirk curled at the corner of his mouth as he peered into the trunk. “Why do you have Robin Hood’s toy chest?”

  I scowled at him.

  “It’s only a question.”

  “Everything in this trunk saved someone’s arse at some point.”

  He reached in and picked up a crossbow. “Yeah, perhaps during the Renaissance.”

  I snatched the bow from him. “How old are you?”

  He grinned lazily. “Old enough to play with weapons.”

  “Seriously? I mean, I know Shifters age slowly, but you act like a twelve-year-old.” I put the crossbow back into the trunk.

  “I don’t look like one, though.” He folded his arms and his biceps bulged at me.

  No, he did not. He looked like he was in his late twenties; whether that was the case, though.... He was handsome, if a girl liked muscles, coppery hair, and a tan...and would love to date a Ken doll that transformed into a cute and cuddly pet.

  I rolled my eyes and pushed open the top tray.

  “So, how are you planning to make this Vampire tell you his Mistress’ location?”

  I pulled out two retractable silver stakes and smiled sweetly. “Don’t you worry, Shifter. I have my ways.”

  “I’m sure you do, kid, but would you mind telling me why you’re rummaging through your arsenal right now?”

  “Yes, I would mind.” I grabbed my bag of UV light cubes and the smallest of my three crossbows.

  “Well, I hope you’re not considering going hunting tonight.”

  I locked the chest, then walked over to the long desk and placed the lights, stakes, and crossbow on top of them.

  “Heather, your wounds have only just healed. I—”

  “Look, you’re staying. I get it, but do yourself a favour, and quit trying to tell me what to do because despite your many good points and reasons, I am still going to do what I want. If you have a problem with that, then you know where the front door is. I am going out tonight.”

  “Oh, really.”

  “Yes.”

  “I could quite easily stop you, remember?”

  “It would be in your best interest not to do that.” His shadow moved across the floor. Heated energy brushed my back as he drew closer to me. If he truly wanted to help, fine, but telling me what I could and couldn’t do, wasn’t.

  His deep chuckle vibrated through to my marrow. “That almost sounds like a challenge, Slayer.”

  Turning round, I popped a retractable stake and pressed the tip to his abdomen. “Back off.”

  A smile curled the corners of his mouth. “And we were getting on so well.”

  “We will get along much better if you learn to keep your distance and to keep your mouth shut.”

  “We would get along better if you would relax and trust me.”

  “My trust is staying put, Shifter. As I said earlier, just because you’re here at the request of my Gran doesn’t mean I have to trust you. Especially since it seems to be you haven’t actually told me everything.”

  He arched an eyebrow. The action pulled his jagged scar tight. “What makes you think that?”

  “Well, a woman tells you that she wants you to protect her eight-year-old granddaughter in thirteen years’ time—when the girl will be twenty-one and more than capable of takin’ care of herself—and you don’t ask why? Or what you would be helpin’ her with? What you would be protectin’ her from?” I raised my eyebrows and stared at him. “If someone said that to me, I would have a shit-load of questions to ask. Yet, you claim you know nothin’.”

  “I was told to come—”

  “Yeah, but what do you get out of all this, Brendan? What do you actually get by being here?”

  A muscle ticked in the side of his neck. “My reasons are between Sofia and myself.” He backed away from the stake.

  “My Gran is dead.” And saying it stings like a bitch. “You are in my house. I deserve to know all the facts—”

  “My business is not yours.”

  “Oh, but mine is yours?” I slipped past him and sat down at the computer, placing the stake beside the keyboard. “If you know something, I think it’s my right to know, too. The fact that my Gran practically made you my bodyguard obviously means my life is in more danger than usual. I don’t need to be a genius to know that. And you didn’t save me because you wanted to, Brendan. You did it because you were told to keep me alive. You don’t want to be here lookin’ out for me just as much as I don’t want you followin’ me everywhere. You’re here because your Alpha pulled rank, and you made a deal with my Gran. None of the above equals trust. You have saved me, which I am grateful for; I really am. But you can now leave and get on with your own life.”

  “I can’t do that, kid,” he said.

  “You can do whatever you want, Brendan. Free will and all that.”

  “It isn’t that simple—”

  “Well, I wouldn’t know, but if you’re stayin’, then you need to remind yourself of something.”

  “What?”

  “Trust goes both ways. Do you trust me?”

  He didn’t reply.

  “Exactly. You don’t know me and I don’t know you. I don’t know what type of a man you are, and I don’t know the real reason why you are here. And you’re right, I do have trust issues. Vampires want to kill me and have already killed all the people I love. I can’t simply get along with the first non-Vampire who shows up on my doorstep or rather, in my kitchen. So, forgive me if I can’t give trust away so easily.”

  I held his emerald gaze for a moment. He might be a nice guy. He kept his promise to my grandmother, which was admirable, and he killed Carlson and saved my life. From the heap of information he piled on me this morning and the way he tried to keep the situation calm and light, I realized he might not be happy with this fucked-up situation but still, trust wasn’t something I could throw around.

  “Excuse me; I have something I must do before I go out tonight.” I turned to the computer and pulled up our files on Luca, ignoring Brendan as he left the basement.

  I needed to call my great-aunt Catherine and update her on the situation. I also needed to find out how many people were in on my grandmother’s thirteen-year-old secret.

  ~ Brendan ~

  My problem had always been that I lived life as a doer rather than a thinker. I jumped into everything and faced the consequences once they hit me in the face. And although being a doer had gotten me into trouble on many occasions, having the guts to grab what I wanted helped me gain many brilliant things.

  But never in a million years had I thought that everything could be taken from me in one single instant.

  One minute I was
just an average happy guy, and then the next thing I knew, I was sprouting fur and a tail and howling at the moon; all due to one man.

  “I will tell you where he is if you help me.”

  Being a doer, and one who wanted nothing more than to make that monster pay, I jumped in. I agreed to help a stranger if she told me where I could find my monster.

  She told me, and I found him. And I made him fucking pay.

  Thirteen years later, I was in London watching over a hard-headed twenty-one-year-old with a bad attitude, facing the consequences of my own stupid actions.

  I sat in Richmond Park and watched the light of the setting sun as it broke through the trees and out onto the lake, causing the water to shimmer.

  The scent of nature, mixed with the unforgettable smells of deer and duck, all of which danced through the summer’s heat, clung to the air and made it impossible to breathe. But being what I was, with a normal body temp of forty to fifty degrees Celsius, the light breeze felt bearable against my warm skin.

  I’d left the house five hours ago, letting Heather get on with her so-called business. Our tense and completely ridiculous conversation had turned bad, and quickly. Having a twenty-one-year-old speaking to me as if she were my mother was damn irritating, especially when she got snappy; her southern Irish accent tumbled faster, which made listening difficult as it became impossible to keep up with her. So, I left before I made things worse—because I would have—and I didn’t want to rattle Heather, considering how casually she handled silver.

  I couldn’t blame her for being hostile; she woke up bandaged and half-naked, not knowing how she had gotten home. And to make the situation worse, she woke up to find me—a complete stranger—sitting inside her house. Then I dumped a hell of a lot of information on her. What had I expected her to say?

  “Okay. Thank you, Brendan. I’m so glad you’re here to help me.”

  She reacted exactly how I would have, if the tables were turned; only, she had been calmer about it all. I was surprised I managed to get through the details without finding some silver embedded in my back.

  My Wolf had enjoyed the challenge in her eyes, in her words. She was strong, but still too young to deal with this insane family legacy. She should be in university or have a regular job. Figuring out what she was going to do with her life. Not running around London, hunting and slaughtering Vampires.

  I felt thankful for her explanation, though, because I’d had no idea what I’d walked into. That ridiculous life mission of hers sounded impossible, but at least I better understood why Sofia sent me here.

  My gut had twisted itself in to knots just listening to all the kid had to say. She had some serious shit to carry on her shoulders, especially for her age, and I didn’t know what was going to happen with that Vampire she had to track down, but obviously the situation could turn ugly fast. Why else would Sofia ask me to come? However, I couldn’t help or protect Heather if she didn’t trust me, and that clearly had to happen soon.

  A sharp laugh caught in my throat.

  I knew, better than anybody, that no one could buy or sell trust. In the world we lived in—the real one—well, trust was a rare thing. Surprising how she hadn’t rammed her sword into me yet; maybe the fact that she hadn’t meant she was willing to trust her grandmother’s wishes.

  Her grandmother’s wishes!

  Heather was right in saying I had saved her because I was told to. It was the truth. I had been instructed to keep her safe, and help her in any way I could, but if I had randomly come across an attack like that, I would have helped anyone. Of course I would have, but I’d been following Heather, and the moment she got in trouble, I stepped in.

  I had promised Sofia I would keep Heather alive, something I thought would be easy, but after watching her for six weeks, well, I realized how foolish that thought had been.

  When Sofia had told me she needed my help, I naturally thought she meant tracking or killing someone. Easy, no problem at all. I did stuff like that. But I never thought she meant babysitting her granddaughter.

  “Thirteen years is ages away.” I’d argued with her.

  “It is not as far as you think. You must be the one to protect her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it is your destiny.”

  I had to admit, at the time, it had sounded mystical and slightly cool. I mean, if my kind existed and so did Vampires, then anything was possible, right?

  How naive I’d been.

  Looking back, well, she was talking a load of bullshit.

  “She needs help, Brendan.”

  I couldn’t fault Sofia on that. The kid acted tough, fought unbelievably well with that sword of hers, and she definitely had smarts, but she didn’t half get herself into some dangerous situations. She proved a strange individual. Heather usually left the house with a purpose, got to her destination, then stood there as if she couldn’t make up her mind whether she should be there or not. Almost as if she didn’t know what to do.

  At first, I would have taken the hesitation for fear, but fear I could smell, and Heather didn’t wear that scent. I soon discovered that she did know what she was doing, and despite Sofia’s constant argument that she needed help...Heather could actually take care of herself.

  Although she had been pretty screwed a few nights ago.

  She should have killed the two Leeches she’d cornered in the bay, but then staying there would have given the other twelve that had crawled up onto the roof a chance to jump in. She would have been trapped. Luckily, she’d backed out in time.

  Fourteen to one. Leeches never played fair, but if I was that weak and stupid, I would want backup, as well.

  Why had they tried to trap her, though?

  The blond one, Carlson, had wanted to change her. He’d also wanted to fuck her; the smell of his desire outweighed his hunger for her blood. Sick fuck.

  My Wolf had howled for his blood on witnessing the situation. Something I wasn’t sure I fully understood, but since we were there to protect Heather, I could only presume he was taking the job as seriously as I was.

  She seemed obviously relieved and angry when I told her I’d killed Carlson. Had she gone out that night for him? He talked about her mother and father as if he knew them personally.... What the hell is going on with this kid?

  I sighed and rubbed my hands over my face, as if I could rub irritation at the unknown away.

  Why am I even here? And what the hell do I have to help her with?

  Sofia never gave me details. I’d accompanied Carter and Dante to Hull Docks in Yorkshire the day after Sofia had called to say that she needed me to come to London. I’d let the trio talk while I kept watch from a nearby bench. The moment they finished, Sofia walked straight up to me and gave me her house address and the package. She told me that Heather needed to read the note and watch the DVD. That she had to do both, and I might have to make her. The small piece of knowledge she had given me was that the kid came from a long line of Slayers and she was “different.”

  Carlson had said Heather was “half-way” there.

  Sofia never elaborated on what she meant by Heather being different. Not that I cared, or at least, I hadn’t until I had smelled her blood the night I saved her. There was a hint of venom to her scent, and something else, something that seemed familiar, but that I couldn’t quite put my finger on; whatever it was, mixed with the venom, proved enough to tell me she wasn’t completely human. Then I found the massed amount of bottles in her refrigerator, a strange mixture of cranberry juice and blood.

  Everything clicked into place.

  How does she cope? Being what she is, and doing what she does?

  It didn’t bother me, or my Wolf. Over everything, she still smelled like a human, acted like one, and that was all that mattered. I just wish Sofia had told me everything, or at least, more than she had.

  “It is best if you didn’t know what is going to happen. You can’t change your paths. You must walk the path.”

 
Something was going to happen to the kid. I already knew that, and I couldn’t do anything about avoiding the problem. I just had to sit with my thumb up my arse and wait. I’d never been fond of waiting.

  What made it worse: I didn’t know how long I had to stick with her. Sofia said I would know when to leave. Yeah, right. I didn’t even know if that moment would happen soon. The kid still lived, thanks to me. She had healed. More importantly, she really didn’t want me around, and she would be going out tonight, no matter what I said.

  She’d lost a lot of blood the other night...too much blood. She might heal quicker than humans, but going hunting tonight seemed like a really bad idea.

  I stood up and headed toward the park entrance. The sun would be down in a few hours, and Miss Tough Girl would be setting out to do what she did best—get into stupid situations and almost get killed.

  Her head wasn’t on straight. She’d become distracted and angry, that much was obvious. Angry about her grandmother’s death, and dealing with it the only way she knew how: killing everything she could. Killing, because it was all she could do. And killing like that was dangerous, for anyone.

  “Stick with her, Brendan. I know she can be difficult, but she will need you. It will just take her a while to realize it.”

  “Why me? Why not somebody else? Someone she knows?”

  “I need you to trust me on this, laddie. Don’t you think there is a reason you are what you are? Why your life has gone the way it has? Fate has a greater plan for you, for all of us. Everything will eventually make sense, Brendan. Just promise me you will protect Heather.”

  I promised.

  I promised because I wanted to kill the bastard who’d changed my life. The one who’d killed my Natasha and turned me into this...beast. Thirteen years later, I had to help Heather get her monster. It would just be a hell of a lot easier if I could get the kid to trust me, but that was obviously going to take some time—if we have time—and perhaps some more information on my part.