Page 54 of Voyage of Death and Desire

“We can’t risk going back to the house. If he doesn’t already know about her, we’ll be leading him straight to her.”

Thorne runs a hand through his messy hair. “Dammit, I will not leave my granddaughter to die atthe hands of that man. I refuse to lose anyone else to that bastard.”

I close my eyes, understanding his pain. “Micah and Luna are there.”

“Micah and Luna don’t stand a chance against someone like Kragen.” He turns toward the house. “I have to try, Elsie. What if it were Bonnie or Charles?”

He’s right. I’d do anything to save them. “Go. I’ll lead Kragen away from the city.”

“No, I won’t leave you. There has to be another way.”

“You’re going to have to make a choice.” My words are harsh, but we’re out of time.

“Dammit!” he screams to the sky.

“I can take care of myself,” I reassure him. “Get them to the lycan bar. I’ll come to you when I can.” I fight the tears threatening to fall. “I love you, Thorne.”

“I love you, too. This is not the end, Elsie.”

I watch as he disappears, heading back to the home he built centuries ago. “I’m here, you insufferable asshole,” I scream. “I know you can hear me, mother fucker.”

The smell of sulfur fills my nose once more, telling me he’s following. I move at vampire speed, leading him away from town and away from the people I have to protect. The irony of the situation isn’t lost on me. I sacrificed my life to save my family once before. It seemshistory repeats itself.

Each time the smell recedes, I stop, waiting for him to follow, and each time, he does.

Our chase continues well into the night and through several states. While waiting for him to follow, I’ve checked my phone several times, and try not to focus on the reason why Thorne hasn’t messaged me. Wiping the “what ifs” from my mind, I continue moving, pulling Kragen further away from Thorne and the people of Charleston.

I’m in the middle of a wheat field, when I stop again, checking my phone and searching for Kragen’s scent. There are still no messages from Thorne, and the smell of sulfur is further behind than before, which means I can rest for a few minutes.

Running uses my energy. On cue, my stomach growls loudly, letting me know I need to eat if I plan on keeping up this cat-and-mouse game.

Approaching the outskirts of a town, I stop, listening for a quick hit. Bars and the homeless are the easiest places to hunt. Preying on someone while they’re in a weakened state is a cowardly move, but I’m fresh out of chivalry at the moment. I pick up on faint laughter and bad music not too far away, focusing on what sounds like a bar or nightclub still holding on to a few remaining patrons.

I follow the sound, ending at a small building on the side of a dead-end road. Motorcycles fill the parking lot, along with a few older model pickup trucks.A few people are stumbling toward their vehicles, clearly too inebriated to be driving.

Stepping inside, I find my victim quickly. A large man at the bar is yelling at the bartender, who has cut his alcohol off for the night.

The young female bartender seems unfazed by his tirade. “Go home, Gary. You’re drunk.”

“I want the beer I paid for, bitch,” he yells.

I move to his side. “Gary, is it?”

He turns toward me. “What’s it to you, whore?”

I look into his eyes. “I love a big strong man. I have some beer in my truck. I’d love to share one with you.” I rub his arm for effect.

Gary’s angry face turns in a minute. He smiles, and his breath reaches my face before his words do. “See, I don’t need your beer,” he spews at the bartender. He turns back toward me. “Take me to your beer,” he says as I lead him away from the building.

I move toward a truck in the back corner of the lot and pretend to have trouble opening the door. “What’s the matter, little lady? Is that big, bad door too much for you?”

I laugh. “I guess so. Would you mind using those muscles of yours to open it for me?”

Gary smiles, moving in front of me. He pulls the handle, finding the door locked. The moment he turns back to me, I’m on top of him, pushing him against the metal. Within seconds, his heart rate slows as I drain him of nearly every last drop of blood. I pull away,leaving him alive, and watch as his body slowly slides down the side of the truck, his eyes fixed on mine.

“Thank you for your service, Gary,” I whisper, wiping the blood from my mouth. “Be nicer to women.”

I turn, ready to continue the game I’ve played with Kragen all night to see an image from my nightmares. Standing at the edge of the parking lot is the man I’ve been running from for two hundred years.

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