Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
The scents of smoke and sweat and alcohol fade as we reach the sidewalk outside. We wait for the new car to be bought around.
“I say we go home and start catching Father up on history and advancements in technology over the past almost a century. Start him off with some basic programming languages, and then round it all out with superhero movies. What do you think?” Henry gives me a gentle smile. But the word that appears inside my head is disappointed.
“I’m sorry I ruined your night out,” I say.
“It’s fine.” He frowns. “You didn’t.”
“Put me down, please. I think I’m okay now.” A part of me feels safe in Lucas’s arms. And that part of me needs to learn better. As he said, he doesn’t need any clingy newborns cramping his style.
Lucas looks me over before doing as asked. Guess I don’t seem quite so on the edge of attacking anyone. I stand there with my arms wrapped tight around myself, thinking calm thoughts.
The traffic has thinned out at this time of night. There’s still a line of people waiting to get into the club. A silver Escalade cruises toward us, a back window lowering to let in the night air. The person behind the wheel is wearing sunglasses and a sneer.
And the word that fills my head like a shout is gun.
“Get down!” I scream, and throw myself at the two males. It’s a bad attempt at a tackle. They’re both more than strong enough to stay standing. But working at superspeed, Lucas looks around and sees the vehicle.
Understanding fills his face, and he moves to cover Henry and me. We’re on the ground before the first bullet flies. The report of the weapon is ear-shatteringly loud. So, too, are the screams of the humans around us.
“Wooden bullets.” Lucas examines the ammunition in his hand. “Amazing.”
“Welcome to the twenty-first century, Father,” says Henry. “Two attempts on your life in one night. That’s when you know you’ve really made it. We’ll have Dracula knocking on the door challenging you to a dance-off next.”
We’re back at the house in the basement living room. Dawn is still several hours away, but going underground seemed safest. The runes won’t stop a sniper from shooting us through one of the upstairs windows. Henry said that was unlikely, however, because wooden bullets aren’t as heavy or strong as metal ones. I still wonder if bulletproof glass for the house will be next on the shopping list. The only good news tonight is that no one else was hurt outside the nightclub.
We got out of there as fast as possible. Then Lucas made a call to Helena, and Henry called someone else, and things were set in motion. Our asses are apparently covered in case of any security cameras, and where the local authorities are concerned. Vampire politics seem to be a lot like organized crime. Violence, money, and secrets. This is assuming what film and TV taught me about them is true.
I spent the ride home downing a blood bag. Handy that the Rolls-Royce had a stocked fridge. The Thorn Group really does think of everything.
Lucas puts a Louis Armstrong record on while I hug an embroidered silk cushion to my chest. “Are we assuming this is about Archie?”
“Seems likely,” he says. “Skye, how did you know?”
My gaze jumps to his face.
“The gun wasn’t in sight yet when you reacted,” he continues. “You were asking earlier about the possibility of extra gifts being bestowed when you’re turned. Is there something you want to tell me?”
I choose my words with care. “I wasn’t sure if it meant anything at first. It was mostly just a random word appearing in my head now and then. Like it was giving me a hint of what someone was thinking.”
He nods.
“Then I looked at the driver of the Escalade and he was staring at us, and I heard the word gun inside my mind,” I say. “Given they’d only just rolled down the back window, I jumped to the conclusion that it was a drive-by shooting and we were the targets and reacted accordingly.”
“You only hear one word?”
“Yes.”
Henry frowns. “What if the word is like the or and?”
“That would be incredibly unhelpful,” I say. “But apparently that’s not how it works. When we were outside the club, I heard the word disappointed from you. It seems to be a random mix of things that people near me are feeling. And it’s not constant, just now and then.”
“Such as when I thought you were homely,” says Lucas.
The way I hesitate says more about my feelings than I like. “Yes.”
“Father,” gasps Henry. “How rude. And blatantly incorrect, I might add. She’s gorgeous.”
“I wonder if, with practice, you could train yourself to tune into a mind.” Lucas taps out a beat on the arm of the chair. “I have only met a couple of other vampires with gifts such as this. One who could move things with his mind, and another who could read objects. Get a feel for where they had been and suchlike. These vampires were treasured and well-protected members of their families. But both of their gifts developed over time.”