The Vampire’s Huntress

Chapter 8- kidn*pped

I heard water. It drew at my senses. Slowly, one sense at a time awakened. Water rushed into a nearby sink. The smell of something rustic mixed with the aromas of cinnamon rolls. I felt like I could taste the cinnamon lingering in the air. The last sense to come was touch. Soon, my fingers could feel the faux furs of a soft blanket. My head was caved in a pillow.

I knew I could open my eyes. But I held still listening, deciphering my surroundings. I was not restrained. I was indoors. I was not wearing my dress but sweatpants and a t-shirt with warm socks. The heavy emblem from my necklace coldly laid on my skin. My hair had been undone, no longer partly up. The earpiece I had to communicate with Malcolm was gone.

Still, I could hear no movement. The water had stopped, but there were no sounds of anyone else with me. Slowly, I opened my eyes. The long wood logs on the ceiling indicated I was in a cabin.

The curve of fabric told me I was lying on a couch. I looked to my left at the cream stitching on the rustic brown fabric of the sofa. To my right, was a wooden coffee table. It appeared to be handmade. It had uneven edges and parts of the wood not quite smoothed over. On top, was a brass sculpture of a tree.

In the corner of my vision, I caught a form standing in the doorway. My body stiffened as my eyes flicked at his. The not Dr. Covin Castillian, stood leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, not moving, just watching.

I threw the blanket off me and lunged for the brass tree on the table at the same time he did. Despite my closer proximity, he beat me to the statue and I fell hard to the ground. With my weakened muscles, I lifted myself on my hands and knees staring at him. Waiting for some indication he was going to attack me.

Instead, he turned and placed the brass statue on a top shelf of the entertainment center. It made no sense. I should have gotten to the brass statue faster than him. Quickly, I scanned the room for my possible exit points. There were several windows, all closed, possibly locked. No doors out of the cabin in sight.

Slowly, he looked at me and my eyes shifted back to his. Gone was the suit and the glasses. He stood in a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants nearly identical to what I wore. Again, he folded his arms and just watched. My body ached against my movements as I pulled myself to a seated position on the edge of the sofa.

“Where am I?”

He lifted his eyebrows as if that answer was obvious. A cabin, yes. But where was this cabin located? Or perhaps the lift of his eyebrows was to communicate I would not be knowing. That put me on edge.

“What do you want?”

Every k********g was done with a purpose, a goal. Something they wanted.

But he did not answer me. Instead, he entered the kitchen. As much as I was curious about his behavior and wanted to follow him for answers, I knew better. I stood on wobbly legs, rolling the waistband of my baggy sweatpants so as not to trip on the long fabric legs. I glanced back at him, now out of view, and made my way to the hallway holding the wall for support. There was a bedroom to my left and a half bathroom to my right. A stairway just around the bend. And then, there was the front door. As I completed the turn, my capturer stood in front of the door holding a small plate of cinnamon rolls.

“You must be hungry,” he calmly said. “It is good to see you are regaining your strength quickly.”

I backed away from him.

“Why am I here?”

The plate lowered in his hand. A frown moved over his lips.

“I need your help, Adira.”

My back hit the wall with a hard thump. Above me, a scrap sounded as a picture jumped off the hook swung across and came off the other hook. It came down, falling towards me.

I closed my eyes and ducked my head, wrapping my arms over myself for protection. But the impact never came. A glance through my arms revealed that the not Dr. had caught the picture. He was leaning over me with his grip on the frame. How did he move fast enough to catch it? It should have been impossible.

Moving my arms, I searched his face looking for my answers.

He whispered, “You need not fear me. I will not hurt you.”

Once again, I could feel the lull of wanting to trust him. Craving to enter this dream-like state of us being long-time friends. It was more of a warm feeling, but it felt similar to what Garrett Shard tried to do to me. Turn me against my own thoughts. Convince my mind of something I did not believe. Who were these people?

I whispered, “Who are you? Wha-what are you?”

His hand slowly lowered the picture frame. My mind became my own again. “Come sit down. We can talk.”

I slowly led the way through the living room and, by the couch, I had awakened through the door into the kitchen. I sat down on an oak chair placed around a circular table.

The not Dr. slid the plate over to me with a fork. The smell enticed me, tingling my tongue. Determining I would need all my strength to get away, I took a bite. It melted in my mouth in a savory cinnamon delight. I greedily took another.

He watched me closely, as if he was feeding off my enjoyment of the food. I paused.

“I know you are not Dr. Covin Castillian, a bite mark specialist.”

“I am not a doctor, but I do consider myself a bite mark specialist.”

“Why did you lie?”

“I needed to meet you.”

“Why? We have never met before.”

He leaned forward. “Yes, we have. In the abandoned warehouse.”

I dropped my fork, remembering the events. His uncanny speed, his unparalleled strength, the unnatural abilities he possessed. The healing cut in my wrist suddenly ached. He was the one that dropped Sarah off at the hospital. Fear gripped my stomach. My heart beated faster. I grasped my fork hard in my hand. I needed to escape before I became another victim like Sara or Brittney.

“Who are you?”

“Covin Castillian. I can hear your heart racing. I was not the one who kidn*pped or hurt those girls.”

He sounded crazy. Hear my heart? “How can I trust you?”

He placed his hands on the table. “Because I am being honest with you. Because now they know I know about their underground business. Because I saved your life.”

“My life?”

His eyes narrowed. “You were a fool to think you could track down those men. Garrett Shard and Filton have been in this business for hundreds of years, they know how to lure and possess any individual that meets their cravings.” He leaned back. “Well, nearly anybody. You nearly exposed yourself, Adira. It had been a belief that your family line had gone extinct.”

“I don’t understand what you are talking about. My family line? Garrett Shard, hundreds of years?”

He rubbed his hand through his hair. “Let's start at the beginning.”

I twisted the fork in my hand to make it a more effective stabbing weapon. “Okay.”

He held my eyes. Once again, I could see the hollowness in them as if his soul had been buried deep in his darkness.

“Garrett Shard, Filton, and even I. We are all vampires.”