The Witch Hunter (21 page)

Aya snorted. "I try and help people, Liz. I'm not always a scary vampire. I don't kill for sport. Perhaps in a few hundred years you'll get it and get the hell over it," she glared. "Look, I'm here to help with the whole Katrin thing and if that means sitting here waiting for your boyfriend to wake up, then so be it. I'm not going to answer your questions and put up with your insecurities. Probably never will. So, save your breath."

She leant over and grabbed the book she had been reading from the coffee table and kicked her legs over the arm of the chair. She'd rather read a terrible book than suffer through Liz's uncomfortable silence. 

The sun had long set by the time Sam gasped for air, sitting upright. 

"Thank,
god
," Aya sighed dramatically, tossing her book into the fire.

Sam rubbed his neck, grimacing, "I can't believe he snapped my neck. That's a new one."

"We have to go after him," Liz whispered, unsure of Sam's reaction. She'd cheated on him with his brother, and he was still with her. She glanced at Aya, who just looked annoyed.

"Love triangles are so last century," Aya rolled her eyes as Liz turned to pour Sam a glass of scotch.

Sam shook his head, "We've been together for a hundred and fifty years. I'm not going to abandon him." He couldn't keep the tears from his eyes. Disappointment or heartbreak? Who knew.

"Tell me what you want me to do and it's done," Liz handed him the glass.

"I fear what he might do, Liz. I know him better than I know myself. He'll leave a trail of bodies behind him before he comes to his senses. The last time it took him years. And we don't have years." Sam threw his glass into the fireplace, shattering it into pieces.

Liz wrapped her arms around Sam's waist and lay her head against his back. "Then we will do whatever we can to find him," she murmured.

Aya shifted uncomfortably. She felt like an interloper, an imposter to this incredibly private moment. Liz's eyes flicked to her and she smiled kindly. She glared in return, not wanting
her
sympathy.

"The problem is I have no idea where he could have gone," Sam held his head in his hands and sighed.

Aya frowned, knowing she had to tell them about his blood. If she tried, she would be able to track him. She was alarmed at how much she had come to care for this unlikely group of vampires and their one human ally. No one had ever come close. "I can find him," she whispered, looking at the floor.

Sam looked up at her in surprise, "How?"

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, "I can track his blood."

"What do you mean, you can track his blood? No vampire can do that," Liz sounded unconvinced.

"I can hear it."

"I don't understand..." Sam said.

Aya scowled, "It buzzes in my head like an annoying mosquito you just can't manage to squash. It doesn't matter how. I can.
That's
all that matters." She stood abruptly. "Don't worry about anything. I will find him and bring him back whether he wants come or not."

"Aya, thank you..." Sam gave her a look filled with relief.

She nodded sharply and crossed the room without a backward glance. In a second she was outside, slamming the front door behind her. Breathing deeply, she cast her mind out listening for the familiar music. She caught a faint trace at the very edge of her limit. North East. She had a long way to go.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T
he night was pitch black and he stood deep in the shadows, waiting.

No moon hung in the sky tonight; the only light was from the street lamps that were spaced too far apart to be of any use. The lane that extended behind the line of shops and restaurants was lined with dumpsters, empty cartons and pallets, stinking of rotting food. The deserted lot behind was overgrown with weeds almost as high as the chain link fence. A dumping ground for things that didn't want to be found.

The sound of a door slamming shut and the jangle of keys reached him as he lurked in the darkness. A young woman emerged from behind a row of dumpsters positioned behind a restaurant and began walking towards the alley at the opposite end of the lane.

As she passed his dark hiding place, he inhaled deeply. The smell of her blood was tantalizing and made him even thirstier. He could feel it in his throat, burning. She walked the length of the lane, oblivious that she was being watched.

He followed her silently as she finally turned down the adjoining alley, her heels tapping on the pavement. The light from the main street ahead shone like a beacon of safety as she made her way towards it. She didn't know it yet, but she would never make it.

He stood in the mouth of the alley, wreathed in shadow, listening to her strong heart beat. The woman turned back, finally sensing his presence. He heard her gasp as she saw his silhouette and her pace quickened. The sound of her heart was intoxicating, even more now that it accelerated in fear. In the blink of an eye he was in front of her. Coming to an abrupt halt, her eyes widened in fear. She fumbled for something in her bag, her hands shaking, and pulled out a can of pepper spray. Pointing it at his face, she took a few fearful steps back.

"Come closer and I will scream," she shouted at him, a wild look of panic written on her pretty face.

He laughed at the futility of it all. Before she could react he had her pressed against the wall, hand over her mouth to stifle the screams that would undoubtedly follow. He considered compelling her before disregarding the notion. He liked it more when they tried to fight.

"Shhh..." he soothed, running a finger down the woman's exposed neck, "It won't hurt much, I promise." The woman whimpered as he leant into her neck and inhaled deeply, his fangs scraping the delicate flesh around the pulsing jugular.

Before he could sink his fangs into her neck, he was pulled upwards into space. Disoriented, he landed heavily on concrete, the air pushed from his lungs. On his feet in a flash, he found himself on the roof of the adjacent building. Eyes black and teeth bared he lunged for his attacker and found himself pinned face down, a knee in his back. Struggling was useless, he was firmly in place, but he did anyway, blind with rage. 

"Bloody hell, calm down," a female voice hissed in his ear, a voice that was vaguely familiar. 

He struggled harder against the knee in his back, trying to flip his assailant to one side, but hands were clamped down over his wrists, driving him mad. He was denied his kill and would get it back any way he could. 

"Zac," the voice whispered in his ear. "Don't struggle. It'll only make it harder. Zac, please come back. We need to talk."

He began to still. The voice was familiar somehow. Where had he heard it? Probably in a dream somewhere. But, he remembered, he didn't dream anymore. Suddenly, he was on his back and the most beautiful raven haired woman was astride him, pinning his hands above his head. Her eyes were icy blue, but melted his black eyes back to their usual green. "Zac, it's Aya. Please."

Aya? Yes, now he remembered. "What are you looking at?" he hissed at her. Why did it have to be
her
? 

"I'm looking at
you,
" she hissed back. "Now get up and come with me."

"Why'd you bother." It was a statement, rather than a question.

"Why did I bother coming for you?" her eyebrows rose in surprise. "Because you're worth bothering about, Zac. That's why."

The tension slacked in his body and she loosened her grip. Even if he tried anything, it wouldn't work. She was countless times stronger than he was and more cunning to boot. The last thing he wanted to do was go back to the manor, to talk about it, but he doubted he had a choice in it.

Aya stood and held out her hand, "Come on, Zac. I have a room not far from here. We can talk."

Zac stood on his own, "I don't want to talk, Aya. I want..."

"To kill and terrorize innocent women?" she interrupted, anger contorting her face. 

"I didn't kill any of them."

She seemed to ignore him. "You're better than empty violence. If you don't want to talk, then please, at least come with me. In your frame of mind, you're getting sloppy. If I have to compel another one." Aya shook her head and held her hand out, motioning for him to take it.

Begrudgingly, he took it, absently running his thumb across her knuckles. He liked the feel of her hand in his, infuriating as she was. Still scowling at her, she led him back to street level and to a tiny motel at the edge of town. He noticed his car in the lot and his eyes grew dark. How long had she been following him? The room was dark and cold and had a slight smell of mould. The neon sign outside flashed
vacancy
through the window.

"How long have you been following me?" he hissed, struggling not to raise his voice as Aya swept the curtains closed.

She glanced at him as she flicked the lamp on, her expression unreadable. "Long enough." She gestured for him to sit down on the bed beside her. Reluctantly, he sat stiffly on the cheap floral duvet. The silence was palpable between them. 

Finally she said, "You need to come back. Katrin is still out there and she will use us all to get to you, no matter where you are. We are all in this together, there's no going back."

He snorted. He knew he was running from Katrin and her cronies and he refused to think about it, but nothing was stopping them from following him. He had crossed the line utterly and totally with Sam. He had never got to the point of killing him before, they had come to blows the way only vampire brothers could, but nothing they had not been able to come back from. He remembered the sickening snap Sam's neck had made and flinched. What had he done?

"He's okay you know," Aya whispered. "A little angry, but he doesn't blame you. You can both come back from this."

He turned to look at her, his green eyes full of anger. "I don't know how to come back from this, so how could he? I do nothing but think about it..." he paused and sighed painfully, closing his eyes. "How could one woman drive us apart? We've been brothers for a hundred and seventy years."

Aya smiled almost sadly, "The heart can do strange things, even to us."

He couldn't help but let the faint glimmer of his own smile answer her. He knew deep down that unrequited love would sooner or later destroy him. Liz would go on with Sam, but he would be left alone to love an empty dream for all eternity if he chose to. Deep down, he knew it wasn't just this that had made him run. Sam wanted him to be more than he was, more than what he knew and that was being 
good
. That was what he was really rebelling against. He was lost and always had been.

"Why did you come after me? Why didn't Sam?" he asked.

"Because..." she sighed, pausing as if she was trying to decide what she should say. "I was the only one who could track you."

"What do you mean?"

Aya frowned. "Your blood sings to me."

Zac's eyebrows rose, "My blood
sings
to you?"

She laughed, almost nervously, "It's hard to explain. I cast my mind out and I can hear it. I just followed, and I found you."

"Simple as that?"

"Simple as that." She clutched his hand like he needed reassuring that she wasn't crazy. "You don't have to do this you know. The more alone you are the further you'll slip away from your humanity until it's gone forever."

"Do other people... does their blood... sing to you?" he whispered, not quite sure what it meant, ignoring her previous statement. 

"No," she shook her head, but didn't continue.

"What does it mean..." he mused to himself gazing at Aya. She looked confused, her hand still clutching his. Giving it a small squeeze he said, "Afraid I'll run away?"

"Something like that," she whispered, unconsciously shifting herself closer.

"But you'll be able to find me again." His voice was almost inaudible. 

"Yes."

He stared down into her eyes and wondered why he never noticed how clear they were before. She was unusually beautiful, her features seemed almost alien and he couldn't tear his gaze away. Reaching up with his free hand, he tucked a strand of long black hair behind her ear, stroking her cheek with his thumb. He felt her breathing quicken as she leant her face into his hand, closing her eyes. Why did his blood sing to her?