She held it up and they both stared.
It was a small key.
She looked back in the pouch, to make sure there was nothing else. This was it. Just this key.
She handed it to Caleb. He too, held it up, getting closer to the fire, examining it every which way.
“Do you recognize it?” Caitlin asked.
He shook his head.
Caitlin came over, getting close to him, as they both sat by the fire and touched the key. As she turned it over, she noticed something. She licked her finger, and rubbed it alongside the metal. A final layer of dust evaporated, and there was visible a small inscription, written in a delicate script.
The Vincent House.
She looked to Caleb. “Do you know it?”
He leaned back, shook his head and sighed.
“I guess our search isn’t over,” he finally said.
She could hear the disappointment in his voice. He had clearly expected to find the sword here. She was sorry, and felt somehow to blame. She, too, was frustrated by all the clues. She leaned back herself, settling in for what she assumed might be a long search. At least this place had yielded a clue. At least it wasn’t a dead end. Now, at least, they held a key. But to what?
Before she could finish the thought, Caitlin suddenly keeled over in pain. She was struck by a hunger pang, worse than any she’d ever had. She could barely catch her breath.
She felt the hand on her shoulder. “Caitlin?”
He didn’t wait for her to respond. She felt a strong hand beneath her arm, then felt herself being picked up, and carried, as he sprinted with her out of the cottage, through the thicket of branches, and into the forest.
As the pains struck her, again and again, she felt herself being carried through the forest, and saw the trees whirling by her at super speed.
She felt the rage building inside of her. The desire to feed. To kill. Her body was changing rapidly, and as she squirmed in his arms, she didn’t know how much longer she could keep it under control.
Caleb finally stopped, set her down, and stood her on her feet. He held her squarely by the shoulders, and looked directly at her.
“You must listen to me. I know it is hard to hear right now. But you must focus.”
She tried as hard as she could to focus on his words, his eyes. Her world was misting over with a red haze, and the urge to kill coursed through her veins.
“It is the need to feed. You need blood. Now. We are in a forest. I can teach you. We can hunt together.”
Teach you. Teach you. She tried to hold onto his words.
She felt herself being pulled, and before she knew it, they were off into the night.
THIRTEEN
Samantha woke at the crack of dawn, and looked over. There, in bed beside her, was the teenage boy. Sam. He had been so easily seduced. She almost felt bad. She knew she had violated a law in sleeping with a human, but this one was so young and fresh, she had decided to bend the rules. Why not? No one would ever know. Of course, she would never tell, and she wouldn’t keep Sam alive long enough to tell anyone himself. Once every few hundred years, she had to indulge. It was the least she could allow herself.
Besides, there was something about him, something that, for a human, made him almost tolerable. In fact, if she were being honest with herself, more than tolerable. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, and this, more than anything, bothered her.
Agitated by her feelings, she sat up, still naked, and in one swift motion jumped to her feet and walked silently through the room. She picked up her clothes and dressed quickly, looking out the sliding glass doors. Dawn was breaking. How ironic, she thought. Sleeping during the night, and waking in the morning. Just like a human. The thought of it made her sick, but there were times one had to make exceptions.
She looked over her shoulder and saw the boy sleeping soundly. She had tired him out, that was for sure. She knew he’d never had an experience like it, and that he never would again. After all, she had 2,000 years of experience. He was certainly lucky. At least for now. He would be equally unlucky in the coming weeks, when she’d had her fill of him, and had found out all she needed to know about his father. Then, she would dispose of him. But for now, he was a fun toy. Quite fun.
He remained sound asleep, as she was so lithe, so limber on her feet. Like a cat. She could prance through the entire house and he would never hear a thing, unless she wanted him to. One of the many advantages of being a vampire.
He had been so gullible: he had really believed that this house was hers. She’d worried how she would explain the fact that there were no blankets or sheets or pillows—or anything in the house— but to her surprise, he didn’t even ask. And the place has been at least partially furnished. Probably all the doings of some desperate broker, staging the house for his hypothetical showings. At least she had put it all to good use.
She felt the heat course again through her veins, and realized that she couldn’t wait any longer. She needed to feed. It had been hard for her to mate with him and not finish it off, like she always did, with feeding. But she needed him alive. He was the key, and she’d had to control herself. But that didn’t stop the hunger, and as she walked about the empty house, looking out at the breaking sky, the empty country road, she wondered if any unsuspecting humans might be walking down the path. Perhaps a small child, up too early. That would be perfect.
Before she could finish the thought, a shiny BMW came down the road, and turned into the driveway. There was the sound of gravel, as the car’s shiny tires made their way slowly towards the house. Who on earth, she wondered, could be pulling into the driveway this time of day? Who knew she was there?
Her heart stopped momentarily, as she wondered if it could be a member of her coven. Had someone seen her mating? Had some rival vampire reported her, and had they come to punish her?
The car door opened and out came a human, poorly dressed in a cheap suit, carrying a “for-sale” sign beneath his arm. He walked towards the front door of the house.
She was so relieved, that she laughed out loud. It was just another pathetic human. And this one, a real estate broker. The worst of them all.
Of course. Now it made sense. He was probably preparing to show the house, probably had an open house scheduled, and was here bright and early to make sure everything was fine. Overzealous. And desperate.
As she watched him approach, she saw his brow furrow in confusion and then concern, as he began to notice the signs that the house was occupied. Sam’s pickup truck in the driveway. A light on. He seemed utterly confused, as if racking his brain to remember if he’d left a light on, or whose car that could be. Then, as he seemed to realize that it was something more, his expression turned to annoyance.