Gwenyth Stevens - Daughter Of Darkness - Part 9
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Part 9

He came downstairs to help me stand. I didn't accept his help. "I want to find the person who did this."

"Why?" he asked. I could tell he knew the answer but wanted to hear me say it.

"I want to kill them," I said coldly.

He touched my shoulder. "You have changed, Gwyneth."

I had no idea what he was talking about, but that was becoming the norm, so I ignored it. I turned and went into the house. Pallo followed close behind me. He didn't make any sound when he moved, and that was creepy. He smiled at me. He knew his stealth mode routine was getting to me, so he quit.

I poured myself a gla.s.s of ice water and sat at the table. Pallo joined me. He told me that shortly after I had fallen asleep, Caradoc and James came. He and James went looking for Caleb. Caradoc cleaned me up. I looked at him sternly, but he ignored me. They had looked all along the river's edge for him and found nothing. They decided to split up, and each one took a side of the river and searched the woods. Pallo found blood in the woods but nothing else. He put his head down as he told me that it was rare for trolls to leave much of their victim behind. I winced. I didn't want to think about Caleb dying that way. I couldn't.

Pallo then informed me that I had slept for almost two full days. He stayed here in the bas.e.m.e.nt during the day and slept. Caradoc and James had headed back to the city shortly before I woke.

I looked at Pallo, soaking in the information he'd given me. I ran a hand over my stomach. If I had slept for two straight days and my belly was completely flat, then that meant that there was a good chance that I was not with child.

Pallo's gaze rested on my stomach. "How are you feeling?"

I nodded, but as I started to answer him, a wave of nausea hit me. I ran to the sink and began to dry heave. I felt Pallo's cool hands on my forehead.

"Try to relax, Gwen." He never called me Gwen. He was trying too hard now.

I started to cry. "They said that I would never have children of my own. I've always wanted children. Now I may get my wish, but the child will never know its father."

"You miss him?" he asked, sitting once more.

"Yeah."

I looked at him leaning back in the chair. I had to do a double take. He was wearing a red plaid shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans that looked to be a bit big on him.

"You're wearing my father's clothes?" I started to laugh a little. He looked so out of place in plaid.

He propped his elbows on the table. "I didn't expect to be staying. My clothes are being laundered. I hope you do not mind that I borrowed these." He put his hand up to unb.u.t.ton the shirt.

"No, Pallo, its fine. You can have them. I was going to give them away. I just hadn't gotten around to it yet."

He gave me that wicked little grin of his again and I melted.

"Thanks," I said.

"For what?"

"For being my friend." I reached out and patted his hand.

We cleaned up the house as best we could. I packed a few articles of clothing and we loaded them into Caleb's red truck. Pallo and I drove back to the city together, and I dropped him off at Necro World, swearing I'd be back shortly. I headed off to get some information.

I stopped at my apartment first. I had promised Pallo that I wouldn't, but I was pretty sure he could tell I was lying so I didn't know how much that counted. I went in and changed and threw a few things in an overnight back. I was learning that it was definitely better to be prepared. I headed off in search of answers.

I pulled Caleb's SUV up outside of Ken's firm and went to the sixth floor, heading for my office. When I got inside, I saw that my phone was blinking. I had voice mail. I was guessing that missing work for a few days meant that I had a ton of phone calls to return. I glanced at my computer. My inbox was probably full too. Oh, well, they would have to wait. I grabbed my Rolodex and skimmed through the names. I needed to find someone who could help me find out who was sending these creatures after me. I wanted to meet them face to face, they would answer for Caleb. I had numbers for almost every sort of paranormal or supernormal contact in the area. I flipped past Lyle Martin's name and stopped. Martin was a self-appointed expert on the behavioral patterns of supernatural and mythological creatures. I had personally never put much stock into what he said, but I was willing to give him a try. The last time I had seen the guy he was appearing on a local talk show.

I phoned the number on the card, but got his answering machine. I started to leave him a brief message concerning a close friend of mine being attacked by trolls on two different occasions and was about to hang up. The phone clicked.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Mr. Martin?" I asked surprised to have gotten through to him.

"Yes, Gwyneth, it is I." The fact that he knew my name should have creeped me out. It wasn't like the d.a.m.n phone was in my name. If anyone it would be Ken. "You mentioned something about h.e.l.lhounds, and trolls?"

"Yes." I told him everything I could, leaving out the parts about me having s.e.x with Caleb.

Martin was silent for a minute. "I see, this is most interesting ... I would like very much to speak with you about this face-to-face."

"Yes, I understand, but I won't be able to meet with you anytime soon, and as I'm sure you can tell ... time is of the essence." Truth was, I probably could have met with him, but he was creeping me out.

"Yes," he said, long and drawn out, "I shall offer you this one bit of advice."

"Yes?"

"Your past is never far behind."

The line went dead. I looked at the receiver and then back at my Rolodex. I scratched the word nut job on Lyle Martin's card and thrust it back in place.

I recognized Ken coming down the hall by the sound of his voice. I didn't want to deal with him right now. I picked up my phone and dialed his office and was relieved to hear him race down the hall to grab his phone. Good old Ken, he was one of those people who just couldn't stand to let the phone ring. I gave it a second to ring some more and heard his door opening. I bolted out of my office, raced down the hall, and waved at Judy, the receptionist. She was trying to tell me that Ken was looking for me. I nodded and pushed the door open to the stairwell. Running down six flights of stairs in August will take it out of just about anyone. I hit the lobby and headed for Caleb's truck.

It was a lot later than I thought it was. Hadn't the sun only come up a little while ago? It seemed that way, but it had taken me a lot longer at my apartment and driving around than I'd thought. Mid-afternoon approached. Pallo would be waking soon, and I had promised to go back and stay at his place for the night. I got in the truck and headed towards Necro World, flipping on the radio. Caleb had a CD in--Less Than Jake. I sat there in awe for a moment. The guy lived for four hundred years and listened to punk cover bands? I don't think I could have been more surprised. I switched to the radio. I had no problem with the band. In fact, they were one of my favorites, but I was in the mood for something a little softer. I hit the scan b.u.t.ton and concentrated on the road. The stereo ran through the various channels over and over again. It all started to sound the same to me. It faded into background noise as my thoughts drifted to Caleb.

I could still smell the fresh scent of his hair. My legs tightened thinking about the touch of his body. His dark green eyes would forever stick with me. The sound of his voice, so soft compared to Pallo's and Ken's. So ... coming from the radio?

I slammed on the brakes. Thank goodness no one was behind me. I looked at the radio, half expecting to see Caleb fall out of it. I heard his voice again. He was speaking with someone I didn't recognize. The other voice was male--deep, and strong. I heard him, but what he said made no sense to me. It was gibberish. It was like listening to a foreign language for the first time. I was lost, but I knew that was Caleb's voice, I was positive.

The channel changed. I hit the radio to try to retrieve the sound of Caleb. I had forgotten that I was scanning through the channels. I pushed the seek b.u.t.ton and heard nothing but music. Had I imagined the whole thing? Had I been so wrapped up in my thoughts of Caleb that I just invented it? I didn't know. I didn't know much anymore, except that Pallo was right. I needed to stick close to him until things blew over. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that I had ama.s.sed a small procession behind me. I pushed on the accelerator and went to Pallo's.

Chapter 13.

I walked around Pallo's room and tried to find something to do. The guy didn't have anything to entertain himself with in here. Looking at the enormous bed, I laughed to myself when I thought about what kind of entertaining the room was set up for--none of which consisted watching a movie. Spying his dressers, curiosity got the best of me and I cracked open a drawer. I yanked it open all the way when I caught a glimpse of its contents. It was full of s.e.x toys of all shapes and colors. My mouth dropped open, and I felt myself blushing.

I really had to get out more.

"See anything you like?" Pallo whispered.

I hadn't heard him come in--no shocker there. I could have slammed the drawer shut and made up some silly story to cover my b.u.t.t. I didn't. I put my hand in and touched something shiny and clear. It was a long gla.s.s rod rippled with irregular b.u.mps. I jerked my hand away. I hoped that wasn't what I though it was.

"You are one sick puppy!" I said.

"Thank you," he said and licked the back of my ear.

I faced him. He was wearing a black, silky pair of pajama bottoms, similar to the ones he wore the night I met him. They were just as low on his hips as the other ones, and I caught myself s.n.a.t.c.hing glimpses of his bare, rippling chest. I forced my gaze back to his face and found him grinning.

His fangs were showing. I backed away. I thought his fangs retracted when he was in a decent, normal mood and was surprised to see them out.

"Why?" It was all I could think of to say.

"I just finished--" He was interrupted when the door to the room opened and a skinny, leggy blonde wrapped in a sheet walked in.

"Pallo, are you coming back to bed?" she asked in a low, sultry voice. Oh, gag me!

I looked her over and caught sight of two holes on her neck. Disgust rolled over me. I couldn't believe he'd been banging another chic practically under my nose.

Pallo leaned close, letting his face almost touch mine. His breath was cool and smelled like peppermint. "Gwyneth, this is...." He looked over at the blonde, waiting for help with her name.

She looked a little hurt but kept her chin up. "Sandra."

"Ah, yes, of course, Sandra." He stared at me so intently, I began to feel uncomfortable. I didn't know what he wanted me to say. Was I supposed to run over and hug the girl? Was I supposed to get mad at him for sleeping with someone else?

"Looks like you've been keeping yourself busy all day," I said with so much sincerity I almost gagged.

He licked the tip of one fang, turning his attention to Sandra. He held his hand out to her. She walked to him, never once taking her eyes off of him. When she reached him, he took her hand and pulled her close, in a snuggling manner. It was like I wasn't even in the room anymore. He put his hand up near her face but didn't touch. She tipped her neck to the side, exposing her smooth tanned skin to me. He leaned over her, his mouth wide, and pressed his fangs into her. She moaned, then started to make noises that one only does during s.e.x.

I wondered if getting sucked on by a vamp who's not trying to kill you was really that erotic. I shook my head. I didn't care--I was out of there. Pallo grabbed my shoulder before I could go. He watched me while he fed off her. He was enjoying this. He wanted me to see him doing this to her. He wanted to hurt me, punish me. I had hurt him, and turnabout was fair play.

I pulled free and smiled. If he wanted to suck on some blonde, more power to him. I started towards the door. Sandra screamed, stopping me, and I turned, expecting to see Pallo biting her head off or something. Instead, I saw her naked body pressed to him as he feed from her. She swayed her hips, undulating against him. Pallo's fingers thrust inside her.

Jealously came upon me in a flash. I remembered Pallo on bended knee. The vision was so clear, so real. I looked back at him pushing his fingers into her, and I wanted to walk over and punch her and kill him. I had no right to feel this way. He had told me that he loved me and I had admitted to loving him, but I had also admitted to loving another. This is what I got in return for that. I crammed down the urge to lash power out at them. I concentrated on being somewhere peaceful, quiet, relaxing. I did this until I felt myself calming down. I turned and walked out of the room, leaving the door stand open.

I walked to the living room, sitting on one of the sofas, leaning my head back. James entered, dressed in unrelieved black. He plopped down on the sofa in front of me. He didn't try to be all suave and debonair. He just was who he was.

He tipped his head back as well. The two of us sat, staring at the high stone ceiling. I broke the silence first.

"Does he do this often?" I asked.

"No."

"So, what's the deal?"

James made a small sound like a snort. Did vampires snort? James was definitely breaking down my preconceived notions of what they did and didn't do. "Gwen, you can't really be that thick. I mean, sure you're a looker, but I really thought you had bit a sense in ya."

I kept my head back and concentrated on staying calm. I was shocked to find that I didn't want to hit him. "Well, how about you help me be a little less thick and just tell me what's going on."

"I can't," he said evenly.

"Why not?"

"Because, he made me swear not to," James said. I could hear the shame in his voice. I had the feeling that Pallo was his master, all vampires have one. Having this finally confirmed by the tone of his voice made me sad. I didn't feel like they should have to answer to anyone. They were older than humans and seemed to demand more respect, but there had always been a way among them. That way would never change. As long as there would be vampires, there would be masters. I wondered who the grand master was, who ran the entire show. Did Pallo have a master too?

"James, tell me about Pallo."

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

"I can tell he's a good man. How did he get to where he is now?" I was trying to think of a good way to let him know that I was aware how ruthless one had to be to achieve Pallo's status.

James sat up. "Gwen, he's lived a long time."

I sat up too. "Yeah, but he isn't really that old, and to be where he's at, he must have been pretty...." The right word escaped me.

"Evil," James said it for me. I could tell by the look on his face that, in Pallo's case, this was true.

"But he doesn't seem that way now," I said, propping my elbows on my knees. James came closer. His brown eyes focused on mine, looking so serious. I waited for him to volunteer information, but he didn't. A look of remembrance came over him and he sat there looking at me, but past me. I touched his knee and felt his power flowing slowly up my arm. The past was the past and James knew that, so he didn't fear reliving it in his mind. I admired his strength.

It crept over me. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to receive James' memories. I saw James dressed in a pair of dark brown pants. They tied up the sides of his legs. His shirt had been light brown with puffy sleeves, now it was streaked with blood. He was searching for something, frantically storming around an old village. He walked past several horses that were all lying on their sides, not moving. He bent down next to one and touched it with his hand. His head dropped as if he was in deep thought, and then he sprang to his feet and ran down a dirt path. A modest cabin came into focus. James lightly touched the door, and it opened. He hesitated a moment then walked inside. A table lay on its side. Chairs were smashed to pieces. A fire still burned in the fireplace. Soup spread across the floor from an overturned pot.

He hurried through the house, moving into another room. A small bed was smashed on one end and covered with blood. James pushed through the mess of toppled furniture and saw a boot sticking out from the other side of the bed. He grabbed the bed with one hand and lifted it effortlessly, revealing a corpse. The man's right arm had been torn from his body, and he had died with horror stamped in his now glossy eyes. James turned and ran out of the tiny cabin, looking in both directions before heading left down a gra.s.sy slope toward a small stream. Something was moving there. It was moving with such speed that only James' vampire eyes could see it.

As James neared the figure, it began to take shape. It was covered in blood from head to toe. Long blood-soaked strands of hair lay against its bare back. James rushed it, knocking it over. It stood and looked at him with eyes of black, hideous, its face twisted and distorted to the point that no trace of humanity existed in it. It snarled and grabbed at his throat with its dagger-like fingernails. James smashed his fist into it and sent it to the ground. He looked down at what the creature had been hovering over. The half-naked remains of a woman's body were all that was left. The beast had torn the woman's throat out, exposing her spine. Her arm had been ripped from its socket, making her body look grotesquely distorted.

The b.l.o.o.d.y body of the creature lying by James' foot started to stir. It lifted itself slowly off the ground. James made no attempt to keep the beast down. He stood very still, waiting for it to rise. It leaned over the woman's body and reached down and removed something from her dead hand. It clutched it to its face and its body began to move up and down. It was sobbing--I couldn't hear anything, but I knew what sobbing looks like. It lifted its hand in the air and gave James what it had been holding. James' hand slid around the b.l.o.o.d.y ma.s.s and let it drop to the ground. As it fell in what seemed like slow motion, I could make out the tiny animal shapes st.i.tched into it. It was a baby's quilt. It was smothered in blood.

The creature turned its head to look at James. Pallo's dark brown eyes stared wildly at James, as if he were lost. He looked down at his bloodied body and collapsed on the ground. James bent and picked him up.

I pulled my hand off of James' knee slowly, in shock. Pallo had been a murderer. He had been evil, he had been ruthless. Was he still? I didn't feel like he was, yet I had just shared James' memory and saw it with my own eyes.

James stood and started to walk out of the room. I reached up to him and took his hand in mine. It was not as cool as Pallo's always felt to me, but it was not warm either.

"What changed him?" I asked.

James stood very still and thought for a moment before answering me. "Do you want to know what turned him into the monster or what brought him back?"

"Both," I said, sliding my hand around his wrist. His pulse speeded--the memory had gotten to him after all.

"You," he said, and planted a kiss on the top of my head. I felt how much he cared for me. It was the kind that was between close friends, and we hadn't known each that long or very well.

Giggles came from behind us. James stood up and we both turned to see Sandra and Pallo standing at the end of the sofa's. She was rubbing her hands all over Pallo's bare chest. He glared at us.

"What the h.e.l.l's your problem?" I shot at him.

James tapped my shoulder, trying to tell me to let it go. I wasn't sure, and I was too mad at Pallo to care.

"Why would I have a problem?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Sandra looked like a lost puppy. She was standing there, hanging on him like he was her lifeline. It was sickening. At least she was dressed, if you could call it that. She had on a tiny white halter top and short, matching skirt. It was so short that I could see bruises on her inner thighs. Had Pallo done that to her? Was he that rough in bed that he bruised her? She was only a human, so they did tend to bruise easier, but still. She didn't look too hurt to me. She looked like she wanted him to take her right then and there.

The sight of her made me smile. She looked like a two dollar wh.o.r.e, and I was talking Canadian cash, not American. That made Pallo mad. I think he had hoped that the sight of Sandra would send me into a jealous rampage. It almost had, but I maintained my control. I kept smiling at her and thought I would go for the smart-mouth of-the-night award.

Hey, I'd been known to win it before, why not now?