Page 16 of To Save a Vampire
Maybe he can.
His knuckles whiten as he grabs the one good hinge that’s holding the door in place at the top. Hard lines etch along the muscles of his arm, power coming to life beneath his smooth skin. The sound of wood cracking fills the air. Before I even realize it, he has the rusted metal hinge in one hand and is pushing the door open as quietly as possible.
He holds the door open for all of us as we walk through. He takes one look back outside, his eyes shifting, making sure everything is as it should be, and closes the door the best he can.
We stand in a small laundry room that feels a little cramped with the four of us inside. I’m about to explore the surrounding rooms when I hear a screeching noise and almost jump out of my skin. It stops me in my tracks. I turn quickly to find Forty-four picking up the washing machine and placing it in front of the wrecked door. I swallow, again, thinking about the lethal strength he hides just under the surface.
My mother roams from room to room with a flashlight like she’s searching for something. As far as I can tell, scurrying mice is all she finds. She and Forty-four meet in what was once the kitchen. A large wooden table sits in the center of the room.
I follow Ky into the room just in time to see Forty-four fling the few objects off the table. Glass and metal scatter to the floor as he exits the room in his usual silent manner. As if nothing happened.
My body stills and the urge to run away sinks into every anxious nerve in my body. Ky, too, seems on edge from the outburst, but he doesn’t say anything. He just casually moves closer to my mother and then stands in a dominant stance at her side. She seems unaware that Ky or myself are in the room at all. She starts wiping down the dusty table with an old rag like we’re preparing for a family dinner. Once that task is finished, she starts searching every drawer and cabinet. There is a mission here, one that myself and Ky are not aware of.
“What are you looking for?” I ask, still standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
My mother doesn’t glance up from her search in the cabinet. Ky just shakes his head and leans against the wall like he’s growing impatient with the task my mother has solely taken charge of.
I backtrack through the house looking for Forty-four. The blinds are open and the moon lets in white light in strips across the floor. It’s quieter the deeper into the house I go, away from my frantic mother. The darkness is starting to feel eerie when I open a door that has steep, wooden stairs leading down into dense shadows, so dark I cannot see the bottom.
“Forty-four?” I whisper, like I’m afraid to wake the essence of the lives that once lived here.
I’m just about to close the chilling door when I hear a noise of something falling to the floor close to the bottom of the stairs. I look back into the house. I can still hear my mother quickly opening and closing drawers in the adjacent room. Ripper stands at my feet looking down the stairs and then back at me. Like he, too, is unsure of what lies below us.
I take a few steps into what must be the basement. It’s colder here. Dampness fills the air. I look back to see if Ripper is following me, but he stays at the top of the stairs looking down at me with a whine.
“Coward,” I whisper up to him.
I take a few more steps down, the boards creaking beneath my hesitancy. My eyes adjust slightly to the lack of light, but I can’t make out anything more than a foot in front of me. I can now make out the bottom of the stairs just a few feet down.
“Forty-four?” My voice slithers into the darkness. I don’t know why I even bother; he can’t answer me.
I stand on the last step, deciding then and there I will not walk into the unknown shadows. I can’t follow what I cannot see. I pause as I hear a footstep, and my heart pounds frantically. I turn to leave when a cold hand touches my wrist, just light enough to send a shiver up my arm.
A scream cuts from my throat and I stumble on my step. A strong arm braces around my waist before I can fall. I almost scream again when I see Forty-four’s beautiful face in the shallow moonlight and my breath catches at the sight of him standing on the step below me.
The hardness of his chest against mine warms me internally. The moon cuts across his face in angles, making his skin look porcelain. His eyes swallow up the bits of light, seeming metallic and powerful. His shining eyes roam over my face, realizing there was fear there, but now catching every changing emotion I reveal to him. I try to hide any thoughts that are racing through my mind by offering a small smile. His half smirk seems to tell me I’m not very good at lying. Not like my mother.
His arm is still around my waist and I’m hyper aware of his fingers flexing into my hip. The feeling is both painful and pleasant.
I finally glance down at my own hand which I initially raised to push whatever monster was reaching out for me. It’s now nestled comfortably against his solid chest, making a home for itself between us.
His fingers tense into my hip again like he’s considering moving me closer to him when he clears his throat with what might be a low growl. His eyes shift down before his arm drops harshly away from me. I nearly fall again, not realizing how much I was leaning on him. His jaw tics as he looks into the darkness below us, and I’m suddenly aware of how cold it is again.
“Sorry,” he says quietly with a pained expression in his eyes even before the chip in his neck shocks him.
He passes hurriedly by me, not looking back, and I’m left feeling off balance as I trail after him.
Once we reach the top of the stairs my eyes widen at the strange glowing sword that hangs in his hand, the hand he hadn’t wrapped around me. My skin tingles at the thought, and I take another severe breath to try to focus on my surroundings.
Ky glances from me to the weapon in Forty-four’s hand before walking across the room, centering himself in the kitchen, just in front of my mother. His dirty boots scatter mud across the tile floor, but no one seems to notice. Ky stands as a divide between my mother and Forty-four. He isn’t a match for Forty-four, something I’m sure he knows, but it’s clear he would protect my mother with all that he has.
My mother glances up from the floor where she’s almost fully crawled in a corner cabinet. Her eyes also land on the sword Forty-four carries, but a different look lights her face.
“You found it. Oh, thank god!” She’s full-blown smiling now at the hybrid who alone could be a weapon, as her eyes take in the blade at his side. “I thought we might be here all night looking for it. I guess it’s not really something you keep with the paring knives is it?” She laughs nervously; the sound is clipped and awkward. Her odd behavior becomes more and more out of place by the minute. She takes the sword from his hand, and her eyes trace over the blade slowly.
Ky has set up a few lanterns in the kitchen, and, as my mother shines her flashlight on the sword, it illuminates the room. Fragments of light reflect off the strange blade, casting drifting shadows around the room. With the extra lighting, I can now see the peculiar sword that so obviously wasn’t welded by human hands.
She turns the beautiful sword over in the streak of light, letting the fragments of light on the wall push and sway against the shadows. The sword is made of a crystal-like material cut into a blade and the hilt is a shining dark metal. Pulsing down the center of the blade is a deep red color that appears to bleed out into the crystal-like edges.
