Twilight Vendetta (9 page)

“Right. But you wouldn’t go up against a half dozen armed goops–excuse me, crows–to save my dad a little while ago.” She held up a hand before he could respond. “No. You were right to hold back. You’re vulnerable. You can bleed to death in a matter of minutes. If one of them shot you, it would’ve been all over. But that’s just my point. You go up in flames at the touch of a spark, you sleep like the dead during every hour of daylight. DPI has weapons. They have drugs. They’ve been researching ways to kill your kind for decades. Centuries, maybe. Devlin, war is the last thing you want. Believe me.”

He looked away, clearly offended by her arguments. “We can move faster than their eyes can detect. We can control their minds, make them do our bidding–”

“Only the weakest willed humans can be controlled that way. And you’d better believe DPI is training its personnel to resist it.”

“Fledging vampires can only control the weakest of minds. An old one like me can do much better.”

She looked up at him, at his thick, corded neck, and wide, strong jaw. He was dark skinned, for a vampire, and she wondered about his ethnicity, not for the first time.

“My human ancestry is a blend of Samoan, Native American, and African,” he said softly. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I like the way you look. Your skin is so beautiful it makes me want to touch it every time I’m near you.” She clapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes widened.

He smiled at her, the first real smile she’d seen. “See? It’s not just the weak-minded who can be controlled.”

Her jaw dropped, but she snapped it shut again. “That wasn’t fair.”

“I find you very beautiful as well, Emma.”

She lowered her head, angry. But he put his forefinger under her chin and raised it up again. “Your skin, like porcelain, and those wild ribbons of angel’s hair. Plump red lips and eyes like pools of melted chocolate.”

She felt herself warming inside and wondered if he was still messing with her head.

“You’re one of very few human beings I can’t quite manage to detest,” he told her. “And you have been ever since I first found you, nearly drowned in your parents’ swimming pool.”

“It was my grandparents’ pool. And thanks for saving me. Every time. Thanks. I mean it. I owe you one.”

“Four, and counting.” He smiled a little.

My God, he’d made a joke. She smiled back, feeling a little lightheaded. “How old are you?” she asked.

“I am a hundred and fifty-seven years Undead.”

“Wow.” She blinked. “Wow. Where did you–”

“Do you really want my life story, Emma?”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I really do.” And she wasn’t admitting it because he was making her.

He stared down at her for a long moment. “Another time. For now, we have work to do.” He nodded toward the car. “The map.”

“It’s in the Jeep.” The truth was she’d already marked out the search radius from memory. But she’d tucked the map into her bag. She was half afraid they’d ditch her the minute they knew where to look for those kids. They didn’t need her help to rescue them. But she needed their help to save her father.

“The next thing we need is Internet. I can do some snooping on Google Earth and maybe get an idea from that.”

“They’ll have blocked themselves from it.”

She lifted her brows. “So you
do
know about the Internet.”

“Yes, I know about the Internet. I haven’t been living in a cave.” He shrugged. “A castle in the mountains of Transylvania, but not a cave.”

She smiled. He was funny, even charming when he wanted to be. For a moment she was lost in his eyes, but then she got hold of herself. Her father was missing. Abducted. She had to stay on point here. “So you’ve probably already figured out that if we find the places that are blocked from the satellite feed, then those are the places where we should start looking.”

He nodded slowly. “You’re smart, for a human.”

“Smart enough to know that the way to stop the crimes against your kind is through education, enlightenment, and understanding. Violence only creates more violence.”

“Violence is the only thing your kind understands.”

“Not all of us, Devlin. Not all of us.”

Footsteps came, soundless, at least to Emma, until they were mere feet away. The others were returning, all together as one unit. Their eyes were brighter than before, and they seemed more energized. It was almost like being around a person who had used cocaine, she thought. They were on a kind of a high. She’d never really got to observe that sort of thing up close. Her mother hadn’t exposed her to any of that.

They both carried plastic bags, with God only knew what inside. Tavia had Emma’s empty travel mug in her hand. It had been in the cup holder in the front seat. She held it out to Devlin. “I’ve brought you sustenance,” she said.

Emma turned her back as he took the mug and downed its contents. She thought it would be rude to grimace and say “Ew” but that’s what she was thinking. That, and that she would never use that cup again if she lived to be as old as Devlin.

“Let’s go,” he said. “We need to find a place with Internet.”

“No, we don’t,” Emma told him, turning, at last. His eyes shone, and his skin had a rose tint it hadn’t possessed before. “I’ve got my iPad and a hot spot. I can connect from wherever we go, as long as there’s cell service.”

“Is dere cell service on the island?” Tavia asked.

Emma frowned. “Island?”

Sighing, Devlin turned and pointed at the ocean. Emma moved to stand beside him, looking where his long forefinger was aiming, but seeing nothing. Dark sky, darker water. His body was close to hers, mere millimeters of space between them. She had to fight not to lean into him. He emitted a pull stronger than gravity to her.

“It’s probably too far for your mortal eyes to see. But yes, I own an island.”

She couldn’t see anything but fog out over the water, so she looked up at him, instead. “When did you have time to do that? You only jumped off the pirated ship–”

His hands clasped her shoulders so suddenly that she never even saw them move, and it startled her, made her gasp. Then the way his eyes probed hers sent chills up and down her spine–and not the good kind. “How do you know about that?” he demanded.

“I–the radio. Dad’s radio hacking. I told you, he was picking up DPI transmissions. It’s how I knew where to find you in the first place. Jeeze.”

His eyes narrowed, but his hands eased their grip on her shoulders. He didn’t let go, though. And the strength and power in those huge hands was dizzying and a little bit frightening. If he wanted to, he could break her in half.

Emma was an adrenaline junkie. The thrill of danger was her drug of choice. But this guy...he scared her a little bit.

“You said you came to find me to tell me what had happened to Sheena and Wolf.”

“Well I
did
.”

“No, you didn’t. You were searching for us before they were shot. You were already in the area. You knew where to go because of the radio transmission. You were already there to observe what happened to them. What were you doing out on the ocean last night, Emma?”

She nodded, lowered her head, but then picked it right up again and held his gaze. It wouldn’t do to appear weak. Besides, she wasn’t. “It’s true. I was trying to think of a way to locate you. I mean, not you, specifically, but you know, some of you. Your kind. I’ve been trying to make contact for a long time, to be honest.”

“Why?” he asked again.

“Last night? Last night all I wanted to do was warn you that DPI had had spotted the ship and was closing in.”

“And you decided trying to drown yourself was the best way to do that?”

She shot him a look and let her anger flash in her eyes. “When I saw what happened to those two kids, I knew I had to do something drastic. And I wasn’t trying to drown myself. I knew you would come.”

“How could you know that?”

She shrugged. “You always have, haven’t you? I’d be dead if you hadn’t.”

His dark eyes narrowed. “Why were you looking for us to begin with?”

Devlin didn’t like humans, and while he’d admitted he didn’t quite hate her, he sure as hell didn’t trust her. It was time, she decided. Time for the truth. She walked away from him, went to the Jeep, took the canvas bag from the back seat, and rifled around inside until she located the 3” oval frame she carried everywhere she went. It rested on every hotel room nightstand, hung on every cabin wall, and was propped prominently in every tent she slept in. She took a long, loving look at the photograph and then handed it to Devlin.

He looked at the picture in the frame.

“That’s my mother,” she said softly. “Her name is Diana Benatar. She became a vampire the night I was born. She’s been missing since I was twelve.”

“Your mother was a vampire?” Bellamy asked, crowding up beside Devlin to look at the photo.

“I’ve been looking for her for most of my life. Trying to learn more about who and what she was, and what happened to her.” She looked up at Devlin. His eyes were on her again, not the photo. “Have you ever seen her? Heard of her?” she asked.

And she realized as she asked that she was dreading his answer. And then he fulfilled her fear by saying, “I’m sorry, Emma. But no. I’ve never seen her.” He handed the photo to Bellamy, who turned to show it to Tavia and Andrew. They each took a long look, but shook their heads sadly.

“Damn.” Emma tried to blink back the tears that welled in her eyes.

“You went to all this trouble to find us just to ask about her,” Bellamy said. “You must be so disappointed.”

She shrugged. “It’s not the only reason,” she said softly, searching her soul deeply for a believable answer that would convince them to let her stick around, once she’d given them the map. They certainly wouldn’t need her help to rescue their friends. To her surprise, she found a very good answer waiting there. “I’m one of The Chosen. I’m twenty-seven. I figure I’ve got somewhere between twelve and fifteen years left to decide whether I want to die young or seek out...the Dark Gift, as your kind call it.” She used the term her mother had used for it. “I thought if I could spend some time with you, live among you for a while, it would help me make my decision.” It felt true. And she wondered if maybe it was, down deep, yet another reason for her lifelong pursuit of vampires and information about them. Not just for the ERFU blog, or the book she was writing to enlighten the world.

Devlin stared at her as if he knew she still wasn’t telling him the entire truth. He also knew she was trying to block him from probing her mind. Maybe imagining brick walls around her brain was an effective method after all. She’d read it somewhere and decided it was worth a try.

“So you were saying, about the island?” she asked, determined to change the subject.

“I intended to rebuild a mansion out there, one day,” he said. “I bought it half a century ago, but the need never arose. And then it did, but we were exposed, and I was forced to flee the country.”

“And now?” she asked.

“It’s where I’ll begin to build our army for the coming war on the human race.”

For a guy who didn’t trust her, Emma thought, he’d sure just revealed a whopper of a secret. Or maybe it was just that he didn’t intend to give her the chance to tell anyone else. Maybe this was one of those
now that you’ve seen our island, you can’t leave here alive
, scenarios.

Being held prisoner by a beautiful body builder vampire didn’t seem all that terrible a fate to Emma...just as long as he kept his word to help her rescue her father, she’d stay on his damn island as long as he wanted.

T
hey liberated a rowboat from a deserted slip near the shore, and she sat facing Devlin as he manned the oars. The way the muscles in his powerful arms rippled with every stroke kept her eyes on him even when she told herself to look out at the dark ocean, starry sky, or barely visible shore. He was strong. He must’ve been strong even as a human. One of the bits of vampire lore she’d gleaned in her travels was that they didn’t change physically. If they cut their hair, it would grow back during the day sleep. If they were fat as humans, they’d stay fat as vampires, and so on. If that bit was true, then Devlin must’ve been a body builder in life.

Did they even
have
body builders 157 years ago?

“We’re far enough from shore, Devlin,” Tavia said. “Please, pick up de pace.”

Emma frowned, thinking Tavia’s comment rude, but then found herself almost falling from her small seat as the boat shot forward. The front of it rose up out of the water. Devlin’s arms moved the oars like propellers. Within minutes, she glimpsed the island, first, just a hulking shape against the distant, dark horizon. And then soon, she could see it in detail as the small boat shot past it, then came around, to approach it from the west. A lighthouse stood tall on a stone-faced cliff, looking out over the sea like the island’s guardian. It was dark now, but beautiful all the same.

“I’ve always loved lighthouses,” she said.

No one commented. But she could feel them watching her, paying close attention to everything she said or did, and probably noticing how often her eyes were on Devlin’s body. Bellamy seemed to like her well enough. Tavia did not, and she wondered if there might be a hint of jealousy. Andrew said so little it was hard to tell how he felt. But it was Devlin’s opinion she cared about. And aside from “I can’t quite manage to detest you,” he had given her no clue. She supposed not quite detesting her was something.