Danville Horror: A Pat Wyatt Novel (The Pat Wyatt Series Book 3) (7 page)

“Jealous of me?” I asked, eyebrow cocked. My father had never said any of this to me before, and it was a little scary.

He shook his head. “Jealous of your mother.”

That was surprising. “What? Why?”

“You had such a special relationship with her,” he went on, laughing a little. “You two were so in sync it was almost as if you could read each other’s minds. And when she died I just got it all twisted. I hated you for not knowing that it was going to happen to her. It was stupid,” he admitted, “and wrong, but I just couldn’t handle it.” He paused, taking a deep breath. I think he felt so bad about being on Samuel’s side that it just all came to a head when he saw what he did to me, and he had to let it out. It was another thing I had in common with my father, a lack of expressing emotions and keeping everything bottled up.

“Pops, you don’t have to tell me any of this,” I comforted. It was none of my business that my father hated me. That was between him and himself. I mean, it wasn’t like he kept it a secret or anything, but I didn’t need him to confirm what I already knew.

“Yes,” he insisted, “I do. Because I shouldn’t have felt like that, and I don’t feel like that now. I love you, baby girl, I really do.”

I could feel the tears forming again, but I blinked them away expertly, unbuckling myself to lay my head on his shoulder like I used to when I was little. “I love you too.”

He patted my temple, and then kissed the top of my head. “I promise you, Pat, that if that monster ever comes near you again, I’ll kill the son-of-a—”

In a matter of seconds, something dark darted into the road. My father slammed on the brakes, throwing his arm across me so that I wouldn’t go flying through the windshield. But his breaking was too late; he had already hit the large animal, and it was most certainly lying dead in the street.

“Stay in the car,” my father warned, and I nodded. He didn’t have to tell me twice.

I craned my neck trying to see what he had hit. But when Pops looked down at the road, he turned white, looking up at me slowly. He gestured for me to get out of the car, and my heart dropped into my stomach.

Carefully, I got out of the truck and the sky opened up on cue. As the icy rain pelted me, I made my way to the front of the truck, and when I saw what Pops hit I froze. Lying in front of the bumper, with blood coming from his mouth, was none other than the vampire bastard himself, Samuel Satané.

chapter

EIGHT

“God damn him to hell,” Tina hissed as she paced back and forth in my father’s kitchen.

“Not going to argue with that,” I replied. This had quickly become one of the biggest nightmares I had yet to encounter. As soon as my father had bent down to see if Samuel was breathing, or even alive, Samuel had popped up off the ground, grabbed Pops by the collar, and “persuaded” him not to take him to the hospital. He also told him that he was injured, but that he had only tapped him, hence why Samuel was in the back of his truck, because Pops had knocked him out.
I
wanted to knock him out. But I think I only managed to say something along the lines of, “You slimy son-of-a-bitch,” and “If you ever do that again, I’ll run you over myself, asshole!”

He had hopped in the back of my pops flatbed and I, recklessly, drove us home with one arm. When my father finally snapped out of the haze that Samuel had put him in, we were already outside the house. He didn’t question how we got there, he just got out of the car and helped a now-conscious Samuel out of the back of the truck. As Tina pulled up and saw this, I had to stop her from screaming bloody murder, but I told her that there was no way Samuel was getting through the door without an invitation. I was wrong. On he sailed right through my father’s front door, limping for dramatic effect.

“I hate that man,” Tina said, bringing me back to reality. “How the hell did he get in here anyway?”

I shrugged. She hadn’t asked questions until we were alone. I explained about the accident and that Samuel did his mind control. That was all I knew. “I have no idea.”

“Did he use another sort of mind control again?”

I shook my head, sitting down at the table. “Not that I saw.”

“That vampire is a fucking menace to society,” Tina said loudly, and I shushed her. “Oh, I don’t care. I wanna let the world know what that monster is, and if your father takes a stake to his heart then so be it. Fucking blood sucking asswipe.”

I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, Tina, not so loud.”

“That soulless bastard,” she hissed at a much better level.

“I wonder if that’s true,” I mused aloud without realizing.

Tina stopped pacing to glare at me. “What?”

“Whether he has a soul or not.”

“Not if any kind of god has anything to do with it,” Cindy said, and we both looked at her. Then we looked at each other. I knew exactly what Tina was thinking because it was the same thing I was thinking. How long had she been there? “I don’t mind saying I don’t like that man. I only met him once, and even I know what he is.”

Tina looked at me again. “You do?” she asked.

Cindy smiled. “Of course I do.”

“Really?” I chimed in. “What?”

“A jerk off,” she laughed, and we both laughed with her. Tina visibly relaxed and decided to sit down at the table with me. Cindy went behind the median to get two wine glasses, filling them almost to the brim. “What did you think I meant?” she asked as she put the wine in front of us then went off to get herself a glass of water.

“Like a vampire or something strange like that,” Tina said, and I kicked her under the table. She let out a silent “ow,” and then mouthed, “Sorry.”

Cindy looked up from the refrigerator where she was pouring the water and laughed so hard that it echoed off the walls. Her eyes actually filled with tears before she managed to get out, “That’s the craziest thing I have ever heard. You ladies watch too much crappy T.V.”

“We get bored easily,” I replied, relieved that she took it as a joke.

“Yeah,” Tina added, “and, you know, vampires are so hot right now.”

I glared at her. “I know, right? Dracula is
so
sexy.”

“Who’s sexy?” Andrew asked as he walked into the kitchen. He had finally changed out of his suit and tie, and was wearing a nice pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. To be honest, he looked a lot more comfortable.

“You,” Tina blurted, staring at his arm muscles. When she realized what she’d said aloud, she was mortified and her face turned bright red.

I, of course, made it worse by laughing at her, and was on the receiving end of a swift kick, which I deserved, considering I’d kicked her first. “We were talking about vampires and how hot they were,” I finally said after I stopped rubbing my shin under the table.

He laughed, and Cindy asked if he wanted something to drink. “Yes, please. A glass of water would be great.” She nodded, and he sat next to Tina, smiling at her. “So,” he turned his attention toward me, “how is Mr.
Satan
doing?”

I shrugged. “Don’t know. Pops is icing down his ego… I mean wounds.”

Everyone laughed as Cindy gave Andrew his water and joined us at the table. But when Pops walked in with his shoulders and jaw clenched, we all became silent. “Baby girl,” he said quietly, and I knew he was angry. Pops always became quiet when he was angry. “Baby girl,” he repeated, looking at me with kind eyes, even though his body suggested that he wanted to kill someone, “he wants to talk to you. And I swear to God if he lays a hand on you, I’ll get my shotgun and put him down. You understand me, Patricia?”

“Yes, sir,” I replied, getting up from the table. I placed my hand on my father’s shoulder before walking down the hall into the living room.

He was sitting on the couch provocatively, smirking up at me. “It is about time. I have been asking for you for thirty minutes now, and your father seemed to want to block our conversation.”

“That’s because you broke my hand, dickhead,” I said calmly, catching myself by surprise.

“Unintentionally, I assure you.” He patted the cushion next to him, and I shook my head. “Suit yourself. But I must talk to you whether you sit or not.”

“Just spit it out already,” I hissed, “we don’t need anyone else getting hurt today.”

He stopped smirking. “I was not hurt.”

I glared at him. “I wasn’t talking about you, you egotist! I was talking about the people in the kitchen.”

“That Andrew,” he growled with a sneer, “is not ‘people.’ He is a psychic the lowest form of supernatural being.”

“So not only are you an ass, but you’re a bigoted ass.”

“Not bigoted, Patricia,” he chuckled, the smirk returning. “After all, I married you, didn’t I?”

My good hand clenched at my side while the other tinged with pain. I would have to get Pops to get the prescription for the painkillers filled, but first, I needed to deal with the pain in front of me. “If you don’t tell me what you want in the next five seconds, I’ll scream for my Pops, and he will come running,” I threatened, but he just kept smirking at me. “With a shotgun,” I added, and the edges of his mouth went down.

“Oh, Patricia,” he tsked, “that is not right. After I helped you with your little monster-killing party, should you not be more grateful?”

“Shouldn’t you be the one who’s grateful?” I asked, and he cocked a brow at me. “After all, I did save your life. Or did that just conveniently slip that pea-sized brain of yours?”

He sighed. “No, it did not. That is why I am here, to return the favor,” Samuel finally admitted, and I could see that the gesture of kindness pained him. “I am here to give you protection.”

“Like hell,” I shouted. “Just look at my hand. Is that what you call protection?”

“Will you let me finish?” He was harsh, and I could see his jaw clench. I knew how to push his buttons that was for sure, whether I meant to or not. “I do not trust that you can be safe here on your own,” he continued. I rolled my eyes. “I have commissioned Kathryn to send you a mighty warrior.” He chuckled a little, but his face remained serious.

I shook my head vigorously. “Oh no. Oh hell no. I am
not
having another vampire around me.” I shivered when I remembered Kathryn severing Mike’s jugular with the flick of her wrist, and I pushed it down. “Never again. Do you hear me?”

“Patricia,” he said sternly, “you will take this help. It is the queen’s command and my request. You will take the help and like it.”

Every part of my body was shaking with inner rage, but I quickly took a deep breath. There was no way I could refuse Kathryn, not after what she did for me even if she was, maybe, going to kill the wolf I loved. “All right,” I conceded. “But you tell this vampire that if I see him or her anywhere near this house, I will stake first and ask questions later. Do we understand each other?”

He nodded. “Yes, we do. Well,” Samuel stood up from the couch, quickly taking my unhurt hand in his and kissing it, “
au revoir, Mon Chéri
.” And before I had the chance to attempt punching him in the face, he was gone.

“I hate when you do that, you smug bastard,” I whispered, and I swear I could hear him chuckling. As I walked out to the hallway, I nearly bumped into Tina, who I noticed had her ear against the wall.

I jumped a mile, placing my hand over my heart. “Jesus, Tina. I need to get you a bell to put around your neck. How long were you standing there?”

She straightened up, crossed her arms, and leaned against the banister. “The whole time,” she shamelessly admitted. “We were not leaving you alone with that mad man, and since I figured you were talkin’ about, you know what, I volunteered to listen in. You know, just in case.” I nodded and jumped again when some thunder rumbled. “Whoa,” Tina breathed, “that was weird. It was just cloudy a few minutes ago, but not like this.” She walked over to front door, looking through the side window. “Man, it is coming down like cats and dogs.” When she turned toward me again, I must have had some sort of concerned look on my face because she asked, “What?”

“Almost supernatural, isn’t it?”

Her mouthed dropped open. “You have
got
to be kidding me.”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“How the hell could he do this?”

“He has a witch on his side,” I told her, finally realizing why Samuel had kept Chloe around after he killed Charlie. Charles was a golem butler who Samuel murdered because he tried to help me escape, all those months ago, from Mr. Satané’s Hamptons house of dread.

“Who?” Tina asked, taking me away from the dungeon basement that had crept into my mind again.

“Chloe,” I explained in a breath, “his cook. She also made Charlie.”

Her face scrunched up in confusion. “What do you mean, made Charlie?”

I had forgotten I hadn’t explained all that. “Charlie was a golem. It’s—”

“I know, a magical creature made out of clay,” she interrupted, and my mouth dropped open. “You told me that part already.”

I shook my head, sighing. “Sorry. I think I’m losing it. I’m repeating myself. But how did you know how he was made?”

She cocked a brow at me. “Did you forget that I minored in mythology?”

“I thought you were joking about that.”

Tina had a weird sense of humor, so me thinking what she’d said once in a bar three years ago, when she was the better for the wine, was a joke wasn’t that much of a stretch.

She shook her head. “No, I wasn’t joking. Why would I joke about a thing like that?”

I shrugged. “Because you’re Tina Iglesias, and
that’s
what you do.”

“True,” she said, and we both laughed. “You know,” she added, “I like when you laugh. That bastard may have broken your wrist and nearly tired to kill you—”

“More than once.”

“But he did you a great service by getting you to feel again. I mean,” she walked up to me, placing her hands on my shoulders, “you were scaring me. And I don’t scare easy.”

“Let’s not tell him that he helped me, okay? He already has enough of an ego as it is.”

She nodded. “Agreed.”

But I couldn’t help admit to myself that he had returned my emotions. After my mother died, they had all pretty much stopped, and when Samuel came along, he sparked something inside me. Mostly lust, but it was just enough to get all of the emotions flowing again. All of which was both a blessing and a curse.

Tina broke my inner babble. “You okay?”

I nodded and then shrugged. “I have something to tell you.”

“What?” she asked all ears.

“Kathryn sent me a vision,” I explained, finally getting it off my chest. I told her about everything and when I was done, she nodded.

“Okay,” she replied calmly. “How I see it is you have nothing to worry about until Andrew says it’s for sure.” She was right. Then again, she was usually right. “And besides,” she went on, “she was the one who said you were gonna die, and you’re still here.”

“True,” I said, and we both laughed a little. Then the doorbell rang. “I got it,” I announced. Tina nodded, leaving me alone in the hallway.

My body aching badly, I dragged my feet the entire way to the front door, and when I opened it, there stood a tall, lanky man with red hair and gray eyes. His face was so angular that he looked like a Greek statue, and his skin was soft ivory. I almost reached out and touched him to see if he was real, but stopped myself, because that would have been rude and inappropriate.

“Beggin’ yer pardon, Madam,” he said with a deep Irish brogue, “but would ye happen to be a Ms. Wyatt?”

“I would,” I answered, my spine straightening. Something about this man was off, and I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

“T’ank the dear lord above,” he replied, placing his hand on his chest in relief. “Dis is the t’ird house I’ve been ta taday. I ‘ave ta tell ye, I ‘ave been runnin’ round for about an ‘our now, and me feet are killin’ me. Metaphorically speakin’, mind ye.”

I took a better look at him and noticed that he had on a pair of the tightest black jeans I had ever seen, a brown pilot jacket, and the most beautiful pair of black wingtips. “Can I help you with something?” I finally asked when I stopped staring at how shiny his shoes were.

“Ye may,” he answered with a smile and a nod. “I am Mortimer Birns. Yer new bodyguard.”

“My what?” I nearly shrieked. This normal looking man in front of me was a vampire? There was no way. “
You’re
the vampire Samuel sent?”

He nodded. “‘Tis I. Yes. He told me ta tell ye that I…” his voice trailed away. “Saints preserve us,” he continued, hanging his head. “He did say dat I wasn’t supposed ta tell ye that I was ‘ere. So sorry, me lady. I was supposed ta keep in the shadows. I’m afeard I mucked it up. Beggin’ yer pardon, me lady.”