If Alex thought driving up to the house was bad, forcing herself to get out of the car and walk to the house was even worse, but she made herself do it. For one thing, Sam was in there, completely oblivious that the man she loved was a ravening vampire who was just making her think she loved him so that he could feed off of her like a parasite. She had to go in and warn her, and-if she could-get her out. Though Alex was starting to think that wasn't likely.
Pausing at the door, she took a moment to try to compose herself, and then finally raised her hand to knock. It wasn't exactly a loud rapping, it was more a timid tapping, but then she was scared out of her wits at that point ... and really had to pee, she realized unhappily, wondering why things like that always seemed to happen at the most inopportune times. Onegood boo would be enough to have her wetting herself at this point, and since she was entering a vampire lair, Alex suspected she was going to experience more than a boo ... which meant she was likely to experience humiliation on top of horror tonight, Alex realized, and was suddenly irritated. That irritation only grew as minutes passed without someone answering her summons. Geez, if she was going to be sacrificed on the blood altar of a bunch of neck suckers, the least they could do was not keep her waiting.
That last thought told Alex she was probably losing her grip on sanity. It just didn't seem all that sane to be angry that her would-be killers lacked promptness. Sighing, she shook her head and knocked again, but it still wasn't very loud. She just couldn't bring herself to pound as if she really wanted someone to come kill her. When another moment passed without the door opening, she hesitated, and then reached for the doorknob and turned it. Much to surprise, it wasn't locked.
She eased it open, feeling like some Victorian heroine entering a haunted house ... or a vampire den, Alex thought dryly, and then muttered, "I may be about to die, but at least I haven't lost my sense of humor."
Wincing at how loud her voice sounded, she slid inside and then paused as a cacophony of sounds hit her ears: shrieks and shouts and the insistent ringing of a phone. She supposed the phone was Russell, trying to warn of her arrival. It sounded like no one was bothering to answer his call. She put that down to the fact that they probably couldn't hear it over the shriekingcoming from upstairs. It was loud and agonized ... and her sister, Alex realized with horror as she recognized Sam's voice in the tortured sound.
She started instinctively toward the stairs, but stopped abruptly as she heard other voices shouting, trying to be heard over Sam's screams.
"God damn it! Why isn't it working?!" That sounded like Mortimer, and he actually sounded a bit frantic, Alex noted with a frown.
"I don't know. We gave her the prescribed amount!" someone shouted back.
"Give her more!" Mortimer roared.
Alex bit her lip and glanced around, looking for a handy weapon. A cross, holy water, or garlic would have been nice, but of course there wasn't anything like that around. Spotting the light on in the kitchen, she hurried up the hall to it and straight to the wood block full of knives. She pulled out the two largest and turned back to the door, but then paused as she realized that they weren't likely to do her much good. Cale had taken a crap load of damage in the car accident and still been going. She needed a bazooka ... or a stake.
Alex shifted from foot to foot, trying to think what to do, and then began tugging kitchen drawers open, searching desperately until she came across a long, wooden spoon. Pulling it out, she took a moment to sharpen the end with one of the knives. It was a very bad job, rushed and, really, she only managed to make the tip slightly pointy, but it would have to do, Alex decided, as Sam's screams grew in volume. She would just have to plunge it in with a lot of force.
Slipping the makeshift stake into her back pocket, she started for the door again, but then paused as she recalled that vampires could read minds. She needed a plan, or they'd simply take control and make her hand over her weapons, Alex realized with dismay. A sneak attack would be best ... or some way to keep them from getting into her head.
Turning slowly, she scanned the kitchen, and then returned to the drawers. In the second or third drawer she'd opened she was sure she'd seen a box of-
"Ah ha!" she gasped as the food wraps were revealed in the first drawer she tried. Alex snatched out the aluminum foil, ripped off a huge sheet, and quickly tugged it over her head. She crunched the ends together under her chin so that it would stay, and then pulled the front forward until her entire forehead was covered. It left the back of her bare, however, and she quickly ripped off a second sheet and attached it to the other by crimping the edges together so that all of her head but her face from the eyes down was protected.
Alex felt an utter idiot in the thing, and didn't even have any idea if it would work, but she'd try anything at that point. Besides, it was what those science geeks always did in the movies to prevent space rays or whatever from penetrating their minds. There must be some science behind it. Perhaps it would keep her safe.
"I've lost my mind," Alex muttered, grabbing her knives again and stomping back across the kitchen. "I woke up this morning a boring little chef on planet earth, and somehow ended up in the Twilight Zone as a third-rate stand-in for Buffy the Vampire Slayer."
She hurried up the hall toward the stairs, adding, "And where the hell is she when you need her? I could use a little Buffy right now."
Alex knew it probably wasn't smart to be talking to herself when she was trying to sneak up on vampires, but it made her feel better and gave her courage. Besides, it wasn't like they would hear her over Sam's ear-piercing cries, she thought and frowned to herself over what might be happening to her sister.
It was probably some weird blood orgy, twelve of the bastards crowded around and biting into her poor naked sister's flesh. She should have run straight upstairs when she first heard them, Alex berated herself, as she reached the top of the stairs, but knew that wouldn't have helped anything. It was risky enough armed as she was.
Her gaze slid over the doors along the hall, pausing on one she knew from previous visits was a bathroom. Alex still needed to pee. In fact, the more scared she was, the more she had to go, but there was no way she would make a pit stop with Sam shrieking as she was. Stopping for weapons was one thing, but pee breaks were out of the question.
However, she was definitely going to kick some vampire ass if she wet herself, Alex decided as she followed the sound of Sam's screaming to the door of the bedroom she knew her sister shared with Mortimer. Other voices were still shouting inside, but it was harder to distinguish what they were saying now that she was so close. Her ears were so full of the sounds of Sam's agony, she couldn't seem to concentrate on the other voices.
Taking a deep breath, Alex shifted her knives to one hand and slowly turned the doorknob, easing the door open with all the eagerness of a child entering a dentist's office.
The moment Alex could see inside, she scanned the room. There were four people inside with Sam, not twelve: Mortimer, Bricker, and another man as well as a woman. None of them appeared to be biting Sam, however, though they were all holding her down on the bed.
Sick bastards, Alex thought with disgust before turning her gaze to Sam. The moment she spotted her, Alex's concern ratcheted up another notch. Aside from being physically held down, Sam had ropes at her wrists and ankles, tethering her to the bed, though it appeared one of them was broken. She was also fully dressed, which was good, they hadn't gotten to the orgy part yet. And they hadn't gotten to biting her either, at least there were no bite marks on the skin of her throat or what little was visible at her wrists and ankles.
However, Sam was incredibly pale, sheet white as if all the blood had been sucked out of her already. But she wasn't acting like someone weak from blood loss. Four people were holding her down, vampires, who, the movies suggested, were stronger than mere mortals, and yet they were having trouble keeping Sam on the bed as she thrashed and shrieked as if on fire.
Pushing the door farther open, Alex eased into the room, grateful that the four vampires were distracted by her sister. She might actually be able to creep up and stake one or two before the others realized what was happening.
Bricker was the nearest one. He and another man were at each corner of the foot of the bed, holding on to Sam's lower legs, while Mortimer and the woman held her arms. Alex didn't recognize the dark-haired man on the left, and was almost sorry that he wasn't holding Sam's other ankle, which would have made him the closer target. She was sure it would have been easier to stake a stranger. As she approached, she was suffering some regret at having to stake Bricker. She'd always liked the guy.
But he was a vampire and she had to save Sam and he'd probably kill her if he got the chance now that she knew his friendly mask hid a bloodsucking fiend, Alex reminded herself and slipped the knife from her right hand into her back pocket so that she could remove her makeshift stake instead. Eyes locked on Bricker's back, she raised her stake high, and then plunged it down, aiming in the general vicinity of his heart.
It didn't quite get the reaction she'd expected. Bricker merely glanced around with an annoyed frown, and then blinked in surprise when he spotted her.
"Alex. What are you doing here?" he said, or at least she thought he'd said that. She was mostly having to read his lips since she couldn't hear anything over Sam at the moment.
Confused, Alex glanced to her stake and saw with dismay that the damned thing was backward. She'd plunged it spoon end first. Alex began berating herself for not checking to be sure she'd had it the right away around before stabbing him, and then realized that Bricker had turned back to Sam as she continued tothrash. Alex quickly twirled the spoon in her fingers, cursing when she nearly dropped the damned thing.
Geez. I am such a bad Buffy, Alex thought as she frantically plunged the spoon toward Bricker again, this time with the right end of it. Unfortunately, he glanced over his shoulder at that moment and instinctively reached out and caught her descending arm with one hand.
"Bricker, stop playing with Alex and hold Sam," Mortimer roared so loudly she actually heard him, and then he added, "And Alex, go stand in the corner and behave yourself."
Alex turned on her heel and walked to the corner, then turned back and simply stood there. It wasn't by choice. Her body just did what Mortimer had ordered her to as if ... well, as if the bastard was controlling her, she realized with dismay, and there didn't appear to be a damned thing she could do about it. Her muscles and limbs simply wouldn't take the orders she was sending to try to make them move.
"The second dose is working," the woman at the top of the bed said now, hardly having to raise her voice as Sam's screams dropped to moans.
Giving up on trying to move, Alex peered to Sam to see that she was thrashing less as well. Wondering what was working, she shifted her gaze to the woman who had spoken, taking in her long dark hair and perfect skin. She'd never seen anyone with hair as shiny and healthy-looking or skin as pure as that woman's. Porcelain dolls would have wept at their own deficiency on seeing it. The woman glowed with good health and contentment.
Definitely the Queen of the Damned, Alex decided.
"Thank God," Mortimer said, and Alex shifted her gaze to him, a little surprised to see the distress and love on his face as he peered down at her sister. A little surprised too that he would dare to use the Lord's name. Shouldn't his tongue burst into flames or fall out for that?
A soft chuckle from the woman drew Alex's gaze back to see her peering her way with gentle amusement.
"What is funny, darling?" the man down at Sam's feet with Bricker asked.
"She was just thinking that-" She paused and shook her head. "Nothing. I don't want to embarrass the poor girl."
Alex was frowning over the words when she became aware that everyone had now turned to peer at her. Mortimer was frowning with annoyance, obviously displeased at her presence. Bricker was casting her his usual grin, but the man she didn't know had turned a curious gaze on her and now glanced to Mortimer, and said, "Are you not going to introduce us?"
Mortimer merely turned his gaze back to Sam, it was Bricker who spoke.
"This is Sam's sister, Alex," he announced, straightening and moving toward her. Pausing in front of her he added, "Alex, this is Marguerite Argeneau Notte and her husband Julius Notte."
Recognition slid through Alex, and her eyes shifted to the woman again. She'd noticed that Sam always spoke of her with a bit of awe. Now she knew why ... Queen of the Damned.
"What's with the ... er ... hat?" Bricker asked, drawing her attention back to him.
Alex opened her mouth but promptly closed it again, unwilling to admit that she'd hoped it would keep them from being able to control her.
"Yeah, that's not working so good," Bricker chuckled. "But it looks kind of cute in a little old lady with a funny foil kerchief kind of way."
Alex scowled.
"So?" he asked with amusement. "What are you doing here? I mean besides trying to spoon me to death?"
"Bricker," the woman reprimanded, leaving the bed to join them. "Stop teasing her. The poor girl is terrified."
Bricker was silent, but then so was Marguerite now, Alex realized, and glanced from one to the other, frowning when she saw the concentrated expressions on their faces. She slowly became aware of a strange ruffling of her thoughts, a sort of tickle as if a moth or butterfly were fluttering around inside her skull, and then she was distracted when Marguerite's husband, Julius, joined the pair to stare at her as well.
Another moment of silence passed and she began to glare back, and then Marguerite suddenly said, "Bricker, you'd better go find Cale."
"Already on it," he assured her, moving away.
"What's happened?" Mortimer asked from the bedside. Alex couldn't see him, Marguerite was in the way, but his voice sounded worried.
"Nothing to concern yourself with, Mortimer," Marguerite said soothingly. "I'll handle this. You justwatch over Sam. We'll be in the next room. Shout if you need me."
"Do you want me to come with you?" Julius asked.
"No, we'll be fine," Marguerite assured him, and leaned up to kiss him before glancing back to Alex. "Come along, dear. I can see we have a lot to talk about."
Marguerite had barely finished speaking when Alex found her feet turning and moving her toward the door Bricker had just exited through. Once again, it wasn't by choice. Not wanting to leave Sam, Alex tried to stop, but her body wouldn't listen.
"Sam will be fine," Marguerite assured her quietly as they exited the room and started up the hall. "Mortimer loves her and would never hurt her. I promise."
Alex had to wonder what good the promises of a vampire were. Surely they could lie as easily as mortals?
"Of course we can, but I'm not," Marguerite said as Alex's feet led her into the next room. She heard the door close behind her. "Would you like to go to the bathroom? "
If she could have turned her head, Alex would have been glancing back with surprise though she supposed she shouldn't be surprised that the woman knew she had to go. She was reading her mind after all and that was up there among her concerns. Dying was one thing, but she'd like to go with some dignity.
"You aren't going to die," Marguerite said with exasperation. "And you can speak. I haven't taken total control of you."
"You could have fooled me," Alex muttered.
Marguerite's laugh was a tinkle of chimes in her ear, and then Alex felt her feet moving her toward a second door inside the room. "Go ahead and use the facilities. But please don't try to escape. You wouldn't get far."
Alex grimaced, thinking that was pretty obvious, and then she reached the door and suddenly felt whatever power had been making her feet move disappear.
"I think you can handle it on your own," Marguerite said quietly. "I'll wait for you out here."
Alex glanced back to the woman, happy to find she was able to. When Marguerite smiled encouragingly, she swung back and opened the door. Once safely inside, she pushed the door closed and then leaned weakly against it. She was trapped in the lion's den and pretty much done for. It seemed obvious she wasn't going to escape from these people when they could control her. Besides, even if she escaped from the bathroom and the house, she knew about the security here, the high electrified fences, motion-sensor cameras, and armed men. She wasn't going anywhere. She wouldn't even have tried without Sam.
A shout stirred Cale from the hell he was suffering, and for one moment he feared more mortals had come along to find him. That would not be a good thing. He was weak, and in agony, and just not feeling very sociable at the moment. Aside from that, he was out of blood, needed more, and didn't think he could control himself as he had the first time.
His first instinct when he'd seen the car rolling toward him was to slip into the mind of the driver and makethem keep going, but then he'd glanced to the copse of trees, noted the distance, and changed his mind. He would never have been able to drag himself that distance, so he'd taken control of the driver and made him stop, which he suspected he'd been doing anyway, and then he'd had the two occupants of the vehicle get out and come to him. Much to Cale's relief it had been a couple of men in their early twenties, healthy and strong.
Once the men stood silent and still before him, Cale had collected the last two bags from the cooler, tucked them into his coat, and then made them carry him to the copse of trees. Between the snow and the uneven ground, the going had been awkward for them. It had also taken longer than he'd hoped, and by the time they'd laid him in the cover of the trees, the healing had set in with a vengeance. Cale had only had a thin thread of control over himself. The only thing that had kept him from attacking one or both of the men was the knowledge that he had the two bags of blood tucked inside his coat. He'd ripped into the bags the moment they set him down, even while sending them hurrying back to their vehicle with the thought to forget about the mangled car and him. They'd reached their vehicle and torn away just as he'd finished the last bag of blood and begun to convulse on the forest floor.
"Cale!"
Not mortals then, he thought on a sigh, as he recognized Bricker's voice. He tried to shout "here," but what came out was a parched croak. It didn't matter. He'd apparently been heard because Bricker suddenlyappeared beside him, a tall silhouette in the dawning light weaving through the leafless trees.
"Jesus, you're in bad shape," the man said grimly, kneeling to look him over. When his gaze shifted to Cale's legs, he cursed. "Did the accident do this?"
Cale grunted, and the other man turned to glance at his face.
"I saw the tracks. You left one hell of a trail of blood."
That explained why he wasn't further along in his healing, he thought grimly. He'd been losing the blood as quickly as he could consume it. There were probably so many burst veins in his legs they couldn't close quick enough to prevent it. It meant he'd need a hell of a lot more blood. The best bet was probably to soak him in a tub of it.
"Russell and Francis are getting rid of the trail and taking care of the car," Bricker informed him. "They'd just finished their shift when I was leaving, so I recruited them to come help."
Cale grunted again.
"There were two sets of footprints. Who did you get to carry you out here?"
"Mortals," Cale managed to get out.
"Where are the bodies?" Bricker asked dryly, bending to slip his arms under him.
Cale just groaned in agony as Bricker lifted him off the ground.
"Don't worry, buddy," Bricker said sympathetically. "There's blood in the SUV and I'll have you back at the house in no time.""Alex," Cale managed to get out as they headed out of the trees.
"She's at the house. She's fine. A little crazy, maybe," he added with amusement. "But fine."
Cale would have liked to ask what that meant but just didn't have the energy for it. His eyes drifted closed and he fell gratefully into unconsciousness.