Vampire Soul Box Set (Vampire Romantic Comedy) Page 8

  "Look out!" I shouted.

  I grabbed Roland's shoulders and shoved him to the side. The gun didn't make a sound, but the bullet whistled through Roland's right shoulder. He flinched, but didn't change our trajectory of higher and farther away from the lunatic with the gun. We sailed over the corn and towards the west.

  "My apartment's the other way!" I reminded him.

  "We must not let him follow us to your apartment," he argued.

  "But he already knows where it is! He talked to Charlie and-" I noticed the color of his skin had gone from fish-belly to flour white. The sleeve of his shirt was stained with blood and it flowed down his arm and dripped behind us. I pursed my lips and lowered my volume. "How long can you last?" I asked him.

  "Not very long," he told me.

  I glanced down at the ground. "I know a place near here. You'll be safe there."

  CHAPTER 6

  With my directions we flew over a couple of miles of corn and landed in the gravel lot of another two-story farmhouse. The lights on this one were on, and there was no police tape on the porch. An old red, four-door car sat in front of the porch, and to the left of the house was a small red barn badly in need of a paint job. Beyond the barn was a small pasture with a sorry-looking ancient horse that was only worth his weight in glue.

  Roland set me down and fell onto his knees. He clutched his wound and grimaced. I knelt beside him and put a hand on his shoulder while the other one held onto his soul box.

  "Are you gonna be okay?" I asked him.

  "I. . .merely need. . .rest. . .and blood," he wheezed.

  I frowned and looked up at the house. "I can give you the first, but we'll see about the second. Come on."

  I helped him to his feet and half-dragged him onto the porch and to the door. I leaned him against the wall. "Just let me do the talking," I told him. I straightened and knocked on the door.

  It was opened by a man of fifty with a few wisps of gray hair that were combed back. He wore a thick pair of white glasses and blue coveralls over his white shirt. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. I sheepishly smiled at him and gave a small wave.

  "Hi, Uncle Seward. Mind if I come in?" I asked him.

  His face lit up with a smile. "Misty! Yer a sight for sore eyes!" He glanced over his shoulder and I could see a petite woman in a blue dress with white flowers setting a dinner table. "Ma, look what the cat dragged in!"

  'Ma' set down the utensils and hurried over to the door wiping her hands on her apron. Her face was wrinkled, but lit up with the same happy smile as her husband's.

  "Misty! My goodness, what are you doing here at this hour?" she asked me.

  "Hi, Aunt Ma. I was just flying through the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by. With a friend," I added. "Can we come in?"

  Aunt Ma laughed and stepped aside. "The day we refuse you is the day you've come to the wrong house. Now come in and let's see your friend."

  I grabbed Roland's arm and helped him inside. Aunt Ma gasped and my uncle's eyes widened. He looked Roland over and looked to me.

  "This man needs to get to a hospital," he told me.

  Roland stood straight and smiled at them. "I'm fine. It's only a flesh wound."

  "Like a chopped arm is a flesh wound," Aunt Ma quipped. She snatched the arm I held from me and pulled him to the left into the small living room. "Now let's get you comfortable and we'll call Doc Peterson. He'll fix you-"

  "Please no doctors," Roland begged as she set him down on the couch.

  Uncle Seward and I followed them in, and he lowered his voice to speak with me. "What's going on?"

  "We had a bit of trouble," I replied.

  "I'd say that someone coming in with a bullet wound in the shoulder is in more than a bit of trouble," he countered.

  I shrugged. "What can I say? It's a dangerous world."

  He tightened his chin and narrowed his eyes. "I know you're all grown up and have a life of your own, but when you bring that life into our house you're back under our rules, young lady. That means no hiding the truth."

  "Oh, Pat, that's enough," Aunt Ma scolded him. She pawed at Roland's shirt trying to undo his buttons, and he was equally, and feebly, trying to avoid her nimble fingers. He was losing the war.

  "I'm quite all right. I merely need some rest," he assured her.

  She wasn't assured. "I've fed enough hunting parties to know when someone's been shot, now stop fidgeting and let me get you out of your clothes."

  She finally succeeded in getting his shirt off and revealing his pale, somewhat muscular chest. He looked soft enough to lay on, but hard enough your head wouldn't bounce. Roland was also deathly pale. I expected that, but my aunt and uncle took that as a sign of his imminent demise

  Uncle Seward half-turned from the sight and towards the door. "I'm getting the car started. Ma, you get him a blanket and get him-"

  "Please," Roland spoke up. He gently brushed aside my aunt's hands and stood to his shaky feet. "I need only a day's rest. That's all I ask."

  "In a day you'll be bled to death," Uncle Seward argued.

  Roland looked my uncle in the eyes. "The bleeding will stop at sunrise. I swear it."

  Aunt Ma and I waited on the sidelines for my uncle to make the choice. Finally Uncle Seward sighed and ran a hand through his thinning hair. "God forgive me if I regret this. . ."

  "You won't," Roland insisted.

  My uncle dropped his arm and frowned. "If you won't go to a hospital than you're under my roof, and that means you'll do what I say." He turned to me. "Help me get him up to your bedroom. You sleep on the couch."

  I cringed. "Maybe he can have-"

  "He's getting your bedroom," Uncle Seward repeated. If God really did have a voice, it sounded like my uncle's I-won't-take-shit-from-you voice.

  I snapped to attention and nodded. "All right."

  "I'll get some blankets and the medical kit," Aunt Ma offered as she bustled off to the laundry room in the basement.

  "Misty, help me get him upstairs," Uncle Seward ordered me.

  Between us we hefted Roland over our shoulders and dragged him up the stairs. It wasn't fun for me because I still had that stupid box tucked under one arm.

  Uncle Seward looked past Roland at me. "Where did you meet this trouble-prone young man?"

  "Uncle Seward, he's right here," I pointed out.

  "I'm asking you a question, young lady."

  I sighed and readjusted Roland's weight. "I first talked to him at the diner," I told him.

  "And is he your boyfriend?"

  "Aren't you going to ask about his wound?"

  "I'm getting there, just answer the question."

  "Sir, my relationship with your niece is-"

  "Quiet. I'll get to you later," Uncle Seward ordered him. "Now Misty, you were saying?"

  "No, he's not my boyfriend. He's just a-well, a business associate," I replied.

  "What business?"

  "Boxes, mostly. And security."

  I was actually glad when we reached the door to my old bedroom. Uncle Seward flung it open and we dragged Roland into the pits of fluffy pink bunny hell. The whole room was done up in pink-flowered white wallpaper and the wood floor was covered in a bright-cherry finish. The full bed was covered with pink sheets and pink and white pillows. There was even my old stuffed teddy bear leaning against the pillows. A dresser with four drawers and a vanity with a giant mirror finished off my humiliation.

  We dragged Roland over to the bed, flung aside the pillows and sheets, and lay him down. Aunt Ma came in with an armful of blankets and a large white metal box with a thick red cross painted on the front. She put her supplies on the bed and nightstand, and started on her patient.

  Uncle Seward grabbed my arm and nodded to the door. "I'd like a few more words with you outside." He dragged me out of the room and closed the door behind us.

  I turned to face him and held up my hands. "Listen, I know this is really strange coming here all of a sudden-"

 
"Really strange is finding two necks in one frozen turkey. This is reckless," he scolded me. He waved his hand at the closed door. "You don't call us for four months, and then you come here at night with a wounded man who refuses medical treatment."

  "He's a little unorthodox," I argued. In every religion.

  Uncle Seward caught my eyes and pursed his lips. "You can true us, Misty. Whatever's going on here we only want to help."

  There came a horrible scream from inside the bedroom.

  "You think she used the whole bottle of rubbing alcohol or half?" I asked my uncle.

  Uncle Seward smiled. "Whole. Those wounds looked pretty bad. Speaking of them, what exactly happened to get some ventilation in him?"

  The door opened and Aunt ma stepped out with her supplies. Her eyes twinkled in mischief and I wondered if her patient was still among the un-living. She smiled at us and turned to me.

  "He'd like to speak with you," she told me.

  "In a minute, Ma," Uncle Seward answered.

  Aunt Ma shoved her supplies into his arms. "Give the young couple some room, Pat."

  Uncle Seward frowned and looked to me. "This isn't over, young lady," he warned me.

  "I won't run away. The rose trestle won't hold me up anymore," I teased.

  I slipped into the room and found all the lights were off except for the lamp by my bed. Aunt Ma had scooted the chair from my small desk over to the right side of the bed close to the window. Roland sat up in bed with his back leaning against the pillows. His shoulder was mummified beneath a half dozen layers of bandage, gauze, rubbing alcohol, and maybe a sacrificed chicken to ensure good healing.

  I sat in the chair, set the box at my feet, and looked him over. "You're looking. . .pale," I commented.

  Roland smiled. "Your aunt is very persuasive when it comes to her demands."

  "And she's a lot stronger than she looks," I added.

  Roland's eyes wandered around the room. "I must admit I'm surprised to see your room decked out in this fashion."

  I looked around the place and sighed. "It was a phase I was going through. I outgrew it."

  "Were they the ones who raised you?" he wondered.

  I looked at my lap and nodded. "Yeah. My parents died in a car accident when I was four. Aunt Ma is my mother's sister, so I came here to live with them. She's been like a mom to me, so that's why I call her that."

  He caught my eyes with his own. "You were in the car, weren't you?"

  I turned away, but nodded. "I don't really remember much. There was ice on the road and the car rolled. Somehow I was thrown from the vehicle and didn't get a scratch on me. My parents weren't so lucky." I wiped a few tears from my eyes and shrugged. "Anyway, that's all in the past. Right now we've got bigger problems to deal with than some ghosts of the past."

  Roland looked away from me and frowned. "Yes. David Ginsleh."

  CHAPTER 7

  "So you do know him?" I asked him.

  He nodded his head. "He is one of the group of hunters I told you about. This one in particular comes from a very long line of hunters who have stalked my kind for centuries."

  "That's one hell of a family business," I commented.

  "Indeed," Roland agreed. He furrowed his brow and shook his head. "What I can't figure out is how he found me."

  I sighed. "It was Charlie." Roland turned to me with a raised eyebrow. I shrugged. "You scared him so bad that he blabbed it to somebody, and that somebody got a hold of Ginsleh."

  Roland pursed his lips. "I see. It seems I chose poorly with contacting him."

  I snorted. "I don't think Charlie realized a vampire hunter was going to hear about his story and set up this elaborate trap to kill you. I'm not even sure the family died there. Maybe they went on an extended vacation so he could use us as target practice."

  Roland shook his head. "There was death in that house."

  "So is this hunter going to keep coming after us until we're both dead?" I asked him.

  "Perhaps. The hunters kill vampires and those who help them," he admitted.

  "That kinda sounds like you and me," I commented.

  Headlights flashed by the window beside the bed. I pulled aside the pink curtains and looked out. A large semi-truck with a load of hay pulled into the lot near the barn. The front door opened and shut, and I saw my uncle wander out to the truck.

  "What is it?" Roland asked me.

  "It's just Brady delivering some hay," I told him.

  He raised an eyebrow. "At this hour?"

  I dropped the curtain and turned to him with a shrug. "He's always worked this late." I saw a dark look in Roland's eyes. "Why?"

  Roland reached into his pocket and drew out the piece of straw. "There was hay at the other house."

  I folded my arms across my chest. "Are you seriously suggesting Brady had anything to do with their deaths? He's been here for years."

  "Have you seen him during the day?" he asked me.

  "No, but I don't do the day shift at the diner," I pointed out.

  "And he only delivers at night?" Roland persisted.

  I held up my hands. "Okay, I'll admit he's a little strange, but even if he is a vampire how come he didn't do anything before?"

  "Perhaps he wished to get my attention," Roland suggested.

  "How would he even know about-" I froze, and my voice came out in a hoarse whisper. "Charlie. He must have heard about you from Charlie, or whoever Charlie told and is blabbing to everyone else."

  The front door opened and voices filled the front hall. I recognized Brady's voice with that of my uncle and aunt.

  "Got any more deliveries tonight?" my uncle asked him.

  "Nope. Yer my last one," Brady replied.

  My eyes widened as I realized my aunt and uncle could be the next names on his menu. I hurried towards the door, but Roland caught my hand and pulled me onto the bed. He pressed me against his side and wrapped his arms around me.

  "Let go!" I hissed at him.

  "He won't harm them," he whispered to me.

  "How do you know that?" I questioned him.

  Roland turned his attention to the door. "Because he knows I'm here."

  "Ya think I could use yer bathroom for a sec? I don't think I can make it back home," I heard Brady ask.

  "Of course. It's upstairs, the first door on the left," Aunt Ma told him.

  My heart beat like a sledgehammer against a steel drum as Brady walked up the stairs. His footsteps paused at the front of the hall, and then they kept walking down the hall to my bedroom door. I held my breath as I watched the knob turn and the door swung open. In the doorway stood the tall figure of Brady, and his eyes had a strange red glint to them.

  Brady stepped inside and the lamp showed off a toothy smile. Either he really needed to see a dentist or Roland was right and Brady's long teeth were his vampire instincts coming out to play.

  "The bathroom's at the top of the stairs," I told him.

  Brady shut the door behind him and chuckled. "It ain't the bathroom I want." He nodded at Roland. "It's him and that box of his." My dangling feet touched the box. I scooted it beneath the bed, but that got the attention of Brady. He toothy grin widened. "Not trying to hide something from yer old friend Brady, are ya, Misty?"

  "You'd know about hiding stuff," I returned.

  He sauntered to the end of the bed and shrugged. "Maybe I've been hiding stuff, but it ain't no business of yers. All I want is that guy and his box, and then I'll leave."

  I stood up and held out my hands. "Brady, why don't we just go downstairs and talk this-"

  "Don't play dumb with me, Misty," Brady snarled. "I know what he is. I could smell it in the lot, and I followed you two from the house. It was just lucky for me yer folks had a delivery waiting on my truck. Couldn't deliver it for a while 'cause I was waiting for you to pick up my trail."

  I took a step towards him. "Listen, I don't know what this is about-"

  "Shut it!" Brady snapped at me. "Charlie might be an idiot, but he'
s no liar. I know'd a vampire tale when I hear one, and that was one." I'd have to thank Charlie later for his big mouth. "There's only one vampire who'd be wanting a human's help and be stupid enough to ask fer it like that."

  A streak of shadow flew past me from the bed and crashed into Brady. Brady's back was slammed into the wall and I saw he grappled with Roland.

  "Give it up, old man. You can't win after that shot from the hunter. You've lost too much blood," Brady taunted Roland.

  "You were an idiot to bring him there," Roland growled.

  Brady shoved Roland backwards and the good vamp fell to the floor. "I ain't brought him anywhere. That hunter came here a couple of days ago and started asking around the trucks for you." Brady grinned as he strode towards Roland and lifted Roland by the collar. Roland's feet swung off the floor and he grabbed at Brady's arm. "Good thing I have him that newspaper clipping of my handiwork. He did most of the work for me." His face twisted into a snarl. "Now you're gonna come with me and no funny business, or your girlfriend dies."

  The door to the bedroom flew open and slammed against the wall. It swung back towards the doorway, but I caught my uncle in the doorway with his thirty-ought six rifle in his hands.

  "Not on my watch," my uncle growled.

  The blast of the gun made my ears vibrate and my uncle stumble back. The bullet made a nice dent in Brady's head and he dropped to the ground in a heap of limp limbs. Roland landed on his feet, but his strength couldn't hold him and he crumpled to the floor. I hurried over to him as my uncle strode into the room with the barrel still pointed at Brady's body. He nudged one of Brady's legs, but the only thing the vampire did was continue to bleed all over my carpet.

  My uncle shouldered his gun and frowned at the body. "I never did like his prices, but I never expected him to be this kind of bloodsucker," he commented.

  "He is. . .not defeated," Roland spoke up.

  Uncle Seward pointed the barrel at Brady. "He's got a hole in him the size of the Grand Canyon. That outta finish a vampire."

  Roland shook his head. "He is only in shock sleep. He could awaken at-" That moment came as Brady's eyes flew open. He jumped to his feet and showed off the two-inch hole that went through one cheek and out the back of his head.