The Blood In Between (The Safe Haven Trilogy Book 3) Read online

  “Lower your guns. Especially you Enos; I don’t want to startle you into shooting me yet again.” Michael Ro`dan’s message reached them just prior to their being able to see him on the dim beachscape. The last time Enos had encountered the vampire, he had shot him three times in the chest. By the next day Michael showed no ill effects. Ro`dan’s arrival from the murk now was disconcerting to everyone. They were already apprehensive over the plaintive calls from the woods, especially those who thought they were keeping watch as they traveled. Even though encounters with him had been wholly friendly, for a brief few seconds everyone in the group flashed upon personal remembrances in their lives, where an imposing figure approached and they had wondered if this was in friendship or something more menacing. Within a step or two these thoughts turned to something more like awe.

  “Those searching for Misty are a few hundred more yards down the shore. They need you as quick as you can get there. I’ll tend to the intruders in the woods.” Michael said.

  Sanford, Enos and Constance took that cue and continued, adding a bit more speed to their step. Constance took a few steps and then held up because though her heart was moving on, her friend, Cinnamon remained where she was.

  “Cinnamon?” She inquired in the night.

  “I’m going to go with Michael.”

  “No!” both Constance and the vampire sounded at the same time. And then Michael continued.

  “It’s dangerous. I can’t fully protect you nor can I act as freely as I might.”

  “I’m coming. I must. I don’t know why.”

  “Cinnamon please,” Constance implored. “Why take the risk? Stay where it’s safer…with us. Please Cinnamon….”

  “Take me with you, Michael. I’ll do what you say…stay down when you tell me.”

  Ro`dan considered this and then nodded his acquiescence. He peered down the beach urging Constance to join the others and added, “Having one extra along will be hard enough.”

  “Be careful.” Constance reluctantly hurried on to catch up with Enos and Sanford.

  Michael turned to Cinnamon. “Follow closely and stay behind me. Do you have a gun?”

  “No, Michael. Even better, I have a vampire.”

  “You should have a gun.”

  They crossed the beach and the vampire brought them through the thicket until they broke through to the hiking path. They followed this until Ro`dan slowed and then stepped into a clearing. On the far side sat the female dog-one. Cradled in her lap was the other, her partner. He didn’t look good. There was a lot of blood. She glanced up from where she was softly cooing and gently stroking his hair.

  “If…if…if…. He sleeping, but…but…he might hurting. Sooner he left. If…if…Can you helped him?”

  8

  “We’re going to come up there and look at him.” Cinnamon said. She approached from behind Michael, keeping him between the strange scene in front of them and where she was stepping into the clearing. As they neared, the female offered a low growl of warning.

  Cinnamon gently spoke to this right away. “You have asked us for help. In order to do that we must see what has happened. There is no way to help until we know what needs to be done.”

  As they neared, the female grew wary but would not abandon her fallen comrade. Michael was ready to tear into things but he physically softened as Cinnamon softly grabbed his arm.

  “Your friend is dead. He appears to be falling apart.” Michael’s comment drew everyone’s attention to the one on her lap. Fluids seemed to be soaking through and pouring out the clothing gaps as whatever was left of her partner was turning to brown gravy and soaking into the dirt.

  “Max,” said the dog-one mournfully. “Max and Ruby, Ruby and Max, isn’t go away.”

  “It might be best if you don’t get any of his…blood on you.” Michael said.

  “You can still hold his head.” Cinnamon continued, “But his…his blood is making the sand steam. It might hurt you.”

  The dog-one repositioned herself carefully and as she did this she asked, “If…if…if…Can you helped him?”

  “I’m sorry, he’s gone.” Michael said. “Soon there will be nothing left.”

  The female began to howl. “Max and Ruby, Ruby and Max. No-o-o-o, No-o-o-o!”

  The mournful sounds turned to moans although a few cries came in transition. She sat and watched the remains of Max disappear in the sand as her grief poured out. Michael and Cinnamon pulled back to confer.

  “I came here to kill them.” Michael said. “They came here to kill us.”

  “I know, but she’s already worse than dead right now, and I can’t explain it but I think she belongs with us.”

  “I feel that too but she is dangerous to us for several reasons. I don’t know the wisdom of allowing her near. Perhaps this is foolish.”

  “I’m drawn to her and so are you. Let’s at least bring her to the commons. The others should see her.”

  “Ruby?” Cinnamon spoke softly. The dog-one tilted her head slightly but did not fully engage. “We cannot stay here and neither can you. Come with us for now and give us no trouble about it. We are sorry about Max but we have had our tragedies tonight as well and they were brought upon us. Do not give us reason to regret the hospitality being offered here. We would rather not treat you as a prisoner although your visit has brought hurt. Come with us now without a fuss.”

  There was hesitation and she looked around as she considered her options but her head was bent in sorrow. As they made their way to the great house, Michael following this one who called herself Ruby, who in turn was following Cinnamon. When they came before the door, there were bullet holes and shattered glass and this was noticed by Ruby who renewed her grief. They went inside and into the kitchen where Ruby, although she was invited to sit at the table, sat in a corner and hid her face by burying it in her arms which were crossed and resting on her knees. Though she was coaxed to join them at the table, it seemed this was all she could currently manage. Michael sat at the far end where he could keep an eye on her. He bade Cinnamon to sit down there with him to keep some distance from this strange visitor until more could be made of her. The opportunity to share a Coke was entertained but its vibrancy didn’t fit with the somber mood, and the thought of wine was too dark. Splitting a beer was arrived upon though it was only occasionally sipped.

  Michael and Cinnamon were also in mourning. Misty had been taken from them, and the intensity of the situation with its need for a clear head, had not allowed adequate time to consider this loss. The tragedy needed to be sipped as well. A full-on guzzle would not be easily swallowed. To reduce the intensity, Cinnamon chose something else to talk about.

  “Where have you been, Michael?” Since encountering Ruby in woods, Cinnamon was in more of a Dr. Starr kind of mood, “besides avoiding us I mean.”

  “I think you have to allow me some alone time Cinnamon. I was together with someone for a long period whether I wanted it or not. When I was freed from that situation, thank you for your help with that by the way, I used the time to readjust and get to know myself again without demands made upon me. Your lives here at Haven in the Woods didn’t go unguarded.”

  “And how are you after your sabbatical?”

  “How is Mr. Hyde without Dr. Jekyll?”

  “That’s your scenario, not mine.” The doctor countered.

  “I’m tired and angry but these are threads woven into the fabric of life. But I am who you know. I’m not changed into someone different. Though I understand the concern, there is no reason to fear I am a stranger to you now. It wasn’t a struggle for control. I was always in control but he wasn’t an enemy. Sometimes I would lift the blinds from my eyes so that the Haven known as John could have a look out the window. He tried to get in but I didn’t make that easy so he lay siege, and there it stayed day after day, week after week, month after month.”

  Throughout the time Dr. Starr had known the vampire, he had been in a battle for control of their shared body w
ith John Skye. Her tools as a psychotherapist allowed her bring about a resolution. Both were powerful and influential and after a prolonged struggle, each was better from their tussle, becoming stronger from it and because of it. She could well imagine he was tired and angry yet after he stormed and raged, Michael had returned.

  Through most of their shared drink they said little of consequence to each other but finally, with a studied glance over to their canine-ish guest who still quietly mourned over in the corner, Michael got up and retrieved another beer, though mostly for Cinnamon, and sat down again.

  “It will be a while before we hear from the activities by the seaside and we are not going to have any more trouble from those who came upon us this evening.”

  Cinnamon liked that Michael used the word “us”.

  “I’m afraid I let the monster inside me roar this evening. Those I encountered were not ushered into eternal sleep without a significant dose of terror beforehand. I could barely help it and would not now change my manner in taking care of the situation. Certainly, part of the makeup of a vampire is the ability to horribly devastate and to make a statement through this devastation. I have spoken many times where this has been true in the past as I came to be as I am now. It has been an unsettling evening. Perhaps I can help to endure it by rendering more of my tale.

  She had so many questions and they continued to mount, but Michael had his journey with her and would not leap ahead to destinations before the road was taken to get there. Cinnamon didn’t say anything but pulled his glass across the table next to hers and split the bottle. When she slid it back she was aware that he was staring at her intensely, reading her, as he would call it.

  “I had come a long way since the days at the manor. I had both fought monsters and befriended some. When you have monsters as your friends your view of them changes. They are certainly less monstrous. Though they were vampires, they had become my family. Yet for me to become part of their family I was to speak with five of them. Some liked me not and some loved me deeper than I had ever known love to be. I had already met with the dangerous Elena, fierce and yet child-like. She was not in favor of my joining the family, yet would allow it. But now I sat in the kitchen of the home I had back then in La Coruna, Spain, with Beatrice the vampire witch. If she wanted, she could look like the hag we often imagine witches to be, yet she could also temper her appearance to an astonishing degree as they all could. While she appeared most of the time as someone who could be old enough to be my mother she has shown me she was capable of a wide span of physical presentation from grandmotherly to someone who could convincingly portray my wife in instances that demanded blending in with societal situations. I swear to you that the aura of sensuality that accompanies a vampire could be nearly blinding to the senses. She was centuries old though. Most of them were.

  There were guests downstairs and in back rooms where I was advised not to wander in my day. They would most likely depart when evening allowed it. Everyone else had gone to bed, but Beatrice awaited my return home from an errand I had been asked to run. It was daylight so we restricted our conversation to the darkened kitchen. Candles burned on the table between us. We had been speaking of her support for my inclusion into the family, and interspersed between these were news items and catch-up conversations as this family of vampires had only the day before descended upon me after an extended time apart.

  “I have spoken with Elena who was a brat but I believe would accept my joining the family.” I had said.

  “Accept but not promote is what you mean.” Beatrice said. “There are factions of our little clan that would never want your inclusion yet they would stand beside you or come to your aid if the need was there. That is why we are aligned together as tightly or loosely as we are. We each find benefit with the House of Del Rio-safety, strength, acceptance and love. Does this not describe the realm of family?”

  She regarded me fondly. “But I am preaching to the choir, you have fit in as an active member from the beginning. You have unknowingly been watched, criticized and appreciated by others since you were delivered by Master Tilson to our doorstep. You have collected powerful enemies and friends. To be part of the family is more than becoming a vampire which is really what you are asking to be. It means taking on our problems as yours, our enemies and our peculiarities. And we must be held accountable in the same measure. Do you see why Lucido is careful with your request?

  I know you have saved his life and he has saved yours. I know you are like a son to him and he, a father to you. You must understand Michael, that the journey from human to vampire, whether through careful deliberation or wild bloodlust, is an experience of severe change, a change of habits, of friends and family, of desires and what is right. You join the ranks of snakes and spiders where once discovered, the action against you is swift and you are stalked with ferocity. Quick death is the desired outcome with little or no provocation on your part.”

  I nodded thoughtfully.

  “Your way is clear in this though. Your enemies are powerful and frightening. I believe you have little choice anymore about becoming a vampire if you wish to survive. Milan and his followers will kill you if they have the chance…and somewhere out there is a tiny life with you as its father. Its mother was allowed to escape from her captors or was tossed from them in a moment when all eyes were paying attention to this new wonder. But Charlotte is damaged. You were fortunate to have survived your encounter.”

  Beatrice stopped her conversation and regarded me more intensely. She reached for my hand and I let her have it and she drew it before her face where she studied my palm and then turned my hand to scrutinize its back.

  “You have a troubled heart dearie.” She paused again and read some more of me. “You have concern over Charlotte and all those who search for her, but your distress goes further.”

  Beatrice held my hand firmly but not painfully, and slowly her eyelids rose to a smoldering stare. Then she stabbed the back of my hand with the needle sharp point of her thumb. I did not fight this nor did I struggle in pain. A bubble of blood arose and she kept that sultry stare into me and she slowly lowered and sucked the drop from my wound. She closed her eyes to savor it as I have seen wine tasters do, then opened them again continuing her sizzling look.

  “You have fallen under the spell of an enchantress. I’m afraid you’ve been hooked from the very beginning. Don’t worry though. She has fallen under your spell as well. It is pretty evident to those who care to notice except for the two most directly involved.”

  “No I…I have worked hard not to become bewitched by her.”

  “Not hard enough. How could you expect anything else when you have spent so much time together?”

  “I have spent much time with many in this family and become enchanted with nearly everyone.”

  “As we have with you, but this is not what we are talking about and you know it.”

  I grew silent for a moment but still felt her gaze. “What does don Lucido think?”

  “Well, my child, what do you think?”

  9

  “You shouldn’t be out in the streets at night alone, little girl, and you don’t have the look of someone who should be anywhere near this part of town.” This man was recently returned from the sea. Charlotte could smell it on him. She could also determine he’d been with a woman last night, and that he had visited his parents today before coming. Though she had only within the last year become a vampire Charlotte had been consistently in their company longer than a decade. The feeling of the change continued to open to her like a slowly-blooming beautiful flower.

  Charlotte coyly tucked her chin into her shoulder and turned away from him as an embarrassed young woman would do. “A woman does what she must to survive the cruelty of men, no matter what part of town she was abandoned.”

  The man stopped and was assessing her physical attributes while he played back what she had just said. “Abandoned is it? Left to fend for yourself with so many prowlers hunting for
a meal like you? The man must have been a lunatic. What sort of person would do something like that? …Unless you have done some misdeed equal to this cruel punishment?”

  “No sir. It was my father who left me. He is a drunkard yet he is me dad. I come to take him home. Only he pretended to walk with me out of these parts, then give me the slip, he did. He is most likely having another pint and I am left to wander the streets.”

  “Maybe I’d better walk with you while you search for dear old dad. There’s too many who’d not be chivalrous in your company.” The man from the sea puffed out his chest and Charlotte knew when to look at his physique admiringly and then let her eyes move to his. She put her hand delicately under his arm and back up to cup his biceps. He liked the feel of that, and the situation, so they moved on where he thought he was taking the lead as they wound to darker and more remote areas. Finally, in the shadows she faltered and trembled, burying her face in her hands. This was a time he had hoped for; when the lovely girl was at the end of her rope, lost and totally dependent on him. He bent to draw her to him and tighten his embrace but she turned and buried her face into his neck. She had something ornamental in her hair that scraped and pricked his neck. They moved as couple in a slow dance nestling in the shadows. Eventually he needed to sit, which he did before her onto the ground and she helped him rest gently. At first he just put his head on his arms which he rested on his knees with his legs drawn up. Soon though, he wanted to lie down and Charlotte cradled his head as she drank him in.

  From shadows darker still came a voice. “You don’t have to finish him, Charlotte. You can feed from him and he can still live.”

  As the silence was broken by words, Charlotte pulled away from her victim and flowed to darker shadows with eerie swiftness. From there she searched the darkness for the person who spoke them. There were too many buildings close by. Everything echoed. It was difficult to get a read on where the voice had come from. It had to be a vampire. Who else could call out to her like that?