Vampire's Shade Discounted Box Set

Chapter 5

Chapter 5When I woke up again, the light in mybedroom was all wrong. It was way past sunrise. I checked the clockon my nightstand and swore. I’d missed my class with Sensei, and Ihad a missed call from Aspen on my phone.

I pushed myself up and swore again whenall my muscles screamed in protest. Sore muscles weren’t a newthing for me with how hard I trained, but there was a hell of adifference between lactic acid and bruises.

I picked up the phone and dialedAspen’s number.

“Are you okay?” she asked when shepicked up. “When you weren’t here, I got worried.”

“I had a rough night and slept itoff. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know. I’ll be over later.”

I phoned Sensei as well andrescheduled. It was just as well I hadn’t woken up in time to go. Iwas stupid enough to train even when I was injured, and that wouldn’thave worked out well.

My eye was still bruised, but it lookedlike the worst was over. If I’d been human, it would have been anangry purple, but it was a yellowy-blue, already healing. My splitlip was almost fully healed, just tender. But my head still hurt likehell.

An image of Aspen lying on the floor ina pool of blood flashed through my mind: a cut across her forehead,the blood slick and glistening on her cheek and on the carpet. Then Isaw teeth, sharp and elongated, and heard the guttural hiss thatmeant the vampire was going to strike again. Finally, I saw mymother’s body slumped under the table, her lifeless eyes staringthrough me.

I squeezed my eyes shut and grunted,grinding my teeth hard enough for my jaw to hurt, trying to groundmyself. I had to get out of the house, away from the memories.

When I finally made it to the otherside of Westham, it was almost eleven. I knocked on the door, andZelda opened it. When she saw me, her eyes got wide.

“What happened to you?” she asked.

I shrugged. “One of them got to me.”

What was I supposed to say? I wasgetting into trouble, and it was literally starting to bite me in theass.

Aspen was in her art room. She lookedup at me, her face bright and open, but when she saw me, the lightdimmed in her eyes. She frowned.

“Did you have a rough night?”

Well, you could say that. I didn’tlook so bad, but she knew how fast I could heal – which meant thatmy injuries had probably been bad.

I shook my head and forced a smile. “Itlooks a lot worse than it feels,” I lied. It felt like hell. It wasmore emotional than physical at this point, though. “In my line ofwork, these things happen once in a while.”

Aspen pressed her lips into a thinline, and her eyes shimmered.

“Don’t worry about me. I just hadto come see you so you’d know I’m all right.” Actually, Iwasn’t sure this would count as “all right” in her book. Thetruth was, I’d come to see her to make sure she was the one who wasall right.

“Has anyone contacted you lately?”I asked.

“Contact me? How?”

When she frowned and tipped her head tothe side like that, she looked exactly like she had when she wasfourteen. Sometimes, Aspen didn’t look like she’d aged a day. Itwas part of what had made her so vulnerable, even before she’dbecome wheelchair-bound.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said,shrugging to look less serious. “Someone mentioned somethingyesterday about half-breeds.”

“You mean we’re going to be thrownout in the open?” she asked.

“I doubt that’s going to happen.Just tell me if anyone tries to call or anything, okay?”

It wasn’t her they were after. It wasme. Aspen wasn’t a threat because she didn’t go out looking fortrouble. I was the one who was leaving a trail, however thin,something someone could follow.

I swallowed hard and pushed away theguilt that throbbed in my gut. If I was caught or discovered somehow,it would put Aspen in danger. And that would be the exact opposite ofwhat I was trying to accomplish every night.

The only answer was to be careful andto keep an eye out for the woman who had attacked me. If it happenedagain, I wouldn’t lose. Only one person would walk away the nexttime.

“I wanted to talk to you aboutsomething,” I said, changing the subject. “I need your help.”

“Oh, the great Adele comes to me forhelp?” Aspen said, beaming.

“Don’t get a big head,” I said,but the light was back in her eyes. This was how I liked to see her.This was how she was meant to be.

I told her about Jennifer and the jobshe wanted me to do.

“Isn’t this the kind of thingyou’re supposed to be doing?” Aspen asked.

Oh, right. The police job I used as afront. In that case it would have made sense.

“It’s not exactly in my line ofwork,” I answered. It wasn’t at all, actually. “I was wonderingif I should take it anyway.”

“I think you should,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because you’ve told me that it’sprobably the right thing to do. You seem convinced that it is, andthat’s as good a reason as any. Besides, if vampires got this guy…it might be too late for him. He might be…”

“I know,” I said softly.

We were both influenced by what hadhappened to us. We couldn’t think of vampires the same way anymore,no matter how related to them we ended up being. Aspen painted awayher emotions. I fought them out. To each her own, but we both had thesame problem.

“You have to save him, if you can,”Aspen said, and her voice was different. Thick, like she was going tocry.

“And if I can’t?”

She shrugged. There wasn’t an answershe could give me, but I didn’t need one. I could answer thequestion for myself.

Kill him.

“Thank you,” I said, and got up,then planted a kiss on her hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Let me know if something comes upagain. I worry about you.”

“I will,” I said, and let myselfout.

It was sweet of her to worry about me.She didn’t have to. I worried enough for both of us.

On the bus back home, I took out myphone and fished Jennifer’s business card out of my wallet. Idialed the number and waited. After the third ring, someone with anolder voice picked up.

“Jennifer Lawson’s office.”

“I’d like to speak to Jennifer,please,” I said. “Tell her it’s Adele Griffin calling.”

Music blared over the line for amoment, and then Jennifer’s crisp voice rang out through thespeaker.

“I was beginning to think you’dgiven up on me,” she said. “I’m so glad you called.”

“I’ll do it,” I said.

She gasped into the phone, and then hervoice changed, making me think she was getting emotional on me again.

“Look, you have to give me somethingto work with,” I said before she could get blubbery on me. “Aphoto would be great, but information like… places he liked to go,or an address, maybe. You know, the important things. Anything thatwill help me find this guy as quickly as I can.”

“Of course. I’ll send it to you. Doyou have an e-mail address?”

I gave her my home e-mail, making amental note to check it later. As I hung up, the phone rang in myhands. I pushed the talk button.

“Joel,” I said.

“I have a hit on that social securitynumber you were asking about. Do you want to swing by tonight to havea look?”

Great. A kill was exactly what Ineeded.

“You’re a saint, Joel. I’ll bethere just after sunset.”

It looked like it was going to be agood night. I dialed one more number, and Sonya answered.

“He’s in a meeting,” she said,each word clipped.

“Just tell him I’m coming intonight, but I’ll be a bit late.” I wasn’t going to beg to talkto Ruben. Hell, if it weren’t for my job, I would choose never tosee him again.

When I got home, I made a sandwich forlunch and switched on the computer I hardly ever used. A thick sheetof dust lay over the top, and it took a long time to boot up. Onee‑mail was waiting in my inbox. It was from Jennifer.

A photo of Connor O’Neill wasattached. He was young, with blond hair, ocean-blue eyes, and a lotof muscle, but not in a showy way. It was lean muscle. Strength. If Iever paid attention to that kind of quality in a man, I’d have toadmit he was attractive.

He had the same kind of glossinessabout him that Jennifer had, the sheen that generally accompanied therich. There was something very familiar about him, too, but Icouldn’t place where I’d seen him before.

The address listed was 13 MulberryDrive. It was in an average neighborhood just this side of thebusiness district. Nothing too rich and fancy, nothing that screamedsocial elite. Jennifer had added a couple of his favorite hangoutsand business meeting places, all very public and posh.

That troubled me. The address notmaking sense meant it might be new. New addresses pointed to vampirechanges, especially if they were trying to be inconspicuous. To me,nothing stood out more than a vampire trying to blend in.

I sent the information to Joel to printout for me. If anything had happened to Connor O’Neill, all thatinformation would be pretty useless, but it was a place to start, atleast.

I wished I had something with his scenton it, but I wasn’t going to ask Jennifer for that, something ahuman investigator would have no use for. No, Jennifer was going tohave to stay in the dark about my identity – no matter how far backthat set me in my search.