Page 75 of Destined for Shadows
She pointed again. “About two hundred feet in that direction.”
Bartol used his flashing sight to check the area, but all he saw were trees and brush. There was no cabin or anyplace for a vampire to hide. “Are you certain? I do not see anything.”
“He’s there,” she promised.
Bartol grunted, having a bad feeling about this. “I will return shortly.”
Flashing to the approximate location she gave him, he touched ground next to a thicket. It was still daylight outside, so even the trees and brush would not be enough to protect the vampire from the sun’s rays. Bartol walked the area, looking to see if some sort of underground shelter might be around. He found nothing. No caves, trap doors, or even a small shack. Then his gaze fell on freshly turned dirt just inside a thicket.
Had the vamp been caught out too close to dawn and taken shelter beneath the earth?
His flashing sight told him nothing since it was too dark to discern anything below ground. The only way he would find out for certain was to dig, but if Bartol did so, it would mean death for any vampire hidden there. He would have seconds to look at the person’s face before they’d burst into flames.
Resigned to do what he must, Bartol kneeled and began scooping away the loose dirt. Since it was freshly tilled, it was not difficult. He had to go about two feet down before he came across the sleeve of a shirt. Quickly covering it, he adjusted his digging to where he believed the head would be located. A few minutes later, his fingers grazed a man’s jaw. Bartol swept more dirt aside, hovering over the site as best he could to block the sun. It wouldn’t stop a vampire from burning, but it would slow the process down. He’d cleared most of the dirt from the man’s face when the vamp opened his eyes.
His fangs stuck out, and he hissed.
This was not Griff. He was too thin, and he had red hair. Bartol started to cover the dirt back over the vampire, but it was too late. Fire began racing over the vulnerable man’s pale skin, and a gut-wrenching scream tore from his throat. Bartol rocked back on his heels, unable to do anything as the flames burrowed down under the soil to consume every last inch of the vampire. It was part of the magic and could not be extinguished once started.
The vamp twisted and turned in his self-made grave, his screams spreading throughout the woods and startling a flock of birds into flight. Sunlight deaths were not instant or painless, and Bartol felt guilty at the needless suffering he had just caused. He mumbled an apology as the vampire finally crumbled into a pile of ash. It had died for no reason other than being at the wrong place at the wrong time. If he’d been in the area legitimately, though, he wouldn’t have been hiding underground. No self-respecting person from his race would dig a grave as a hideout unless they were trying not to be found, or they were foolish and could not keep track of the sun as well as they should.
Bartol flashed back to Melena. “Not Griff.”
“You’re getting dirt all over my seat,” she said, frowning at him.
He brushed at his pants, sending flecks of earth onto her floorboard. “You sent me after a vampire who’d buried himself. There was only one way to verify his identity, and it wasn’t pleasant.”
She cringed. “Oh, sorry. I was wondering what all that screaming was about, but I thought you were just questioning him.”
“There was no time for that.”
“Damn.” She brushed a lock out of her face. “Now I feel bad.”
Bartol did as well, but it helped that he didn’t know the vampire and doubted anyone would miss him. He wouldn’t have been hiding underground if he had friends.
“It will be getting dark soon.” He glanced up at the sky, thinking he probably should have waited for sunset to check the vampire, but it would have taken too long. “I need to get back to Cori.”
“Okay.” Melena nodded. “I can get home on my own if you want to go now.”
“Are you certain?” Bartol asked.
He knew the sensor could take care of herself, but he still didn’t like the idea of leaving a woman alone in the woods. It seemed rather inconsiderate.
She waved a hand. “I’ll be fine. God help anyone who bothers me on the way back.”
“Very well.” He searched her gaze to be certain she truly was fine and found only confidence in her demeanor. “I will meet with you again at noon tomorrow.” That was the soonest the sensor could get away from work to help with the search.
“Sounds good,” she agreed.
Bartol flashed back to his cabin and took a quick shower. He did not want to show up at Cori’s shop covered in dirt. After he’d cleaned up and put on a fresh set of clothes, he relocated to her place of work. It was about an hour before she would close for the night, so he only found Tormod and a blond female at the front.
“So do you do tattoos?” the woman asked, running her fingers down the nerou’s arm.
Tormod gave her a suave smile. “I’ve been drawing some designs, but I might try my hand at the machine someday.”
The woman leaned forward to reveal more of her considerable cleavage. “You’re welcome to experiment on me anytime.”
Bartol remembered when women used to treat him that way, and he’d enjoyed every moment of it back then. Now he was glad they kept their distance. Seeing the way Tormod and the female acted toward each other seemed frivolous now. Not at all exciting like it once would have been to him.
