Page 14 of Blood Illusions

He didn’t answer me, and I hoped this didn’t mean my hunch was right. Damon lumped all supernaturals into the evil category after a vampire killed Mom. I couldn’t blame him. He was only seven when he found her bloody corpse.

I looked over my shoulder one more time to satisfy my gnawing fear that nothing had followed us. Luckily, only darkness greeted me. “What about those things? I’ve never seen such powerful vampires.”

“Blow up their little house. Lock the bastards in their own fiery private tomb.”

“How do you know they won’t claw their way out?”

He gave me a sidelong glance. “I don’t. Maybe if they do, we can pick them off one by one.”

I thought of why those creatures would retreat to the cave. “What if there are victims in there?”

He released a bitter laugh. “You really think any human would be alive in that pit?”

I bit my lip. “I don’t know, but Justice was there before us. Maybe he knows.”

His laugh dried up, and he gave me a cold stare. “And you would trust a vampire, especially after what happened to Mom?”

I blinked away tears and crossed my arms. “I don’t trust him, Damon. But he’s the only lead we have to finding Dad.”

He scowled at me in disapproval, reminding me of the hundreds of times our father had done the same. It was the same annoying look he gave me whenever he thought I crossed the line of violating his and Dad’s hunter’s code of ethics. “He’s a vampire, Sawyer. Our only chance is to find Dad before that fang drains him dry.”

“Where do you propose to look?”

Frustration flashed in his eyes, and he threw up his hands. “I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Damon, think before you lose your head. We need to go back to The Grove and talk to Tim. The Elders have contact with the PMC. Maybe they can find out if Dad is there.”

“You think the PMC is going to tell us the truth, especially if they made these things?” His prickly tone and rigid posture meant he’d already made up his mind.

“You don’t know that. You’re guessing. For all you know, the PMC might be treating Dad for his wounds or helping him track these things down right now.”

He gave me his famous you’re-an-idiot-if-you-believe-that look.

My spine stiffened. “They’ve helped other hunters before when rogue supernaturals have been hurting humans, and you know it. Like we’ve helped them when human hunters were killing innocent humans.”

“This isn’t one of those times,” he insisted. “You’re going to side with a fang over me?” His soft voice took away some of my frustration.

“I don’t know. I don’t trust vampires either, Damon, but we need to figure things out before we rush into things.”

He rolled his eyes so hard they practically touched the back of his skull.

I folded my arms. “If you don’t want to contact Tim, where do we go look for Dad?”

He gritted his teeth as the engine of the old Ford Fairlane roared to life, and he slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The angry car lurched forward, tires squealing, and the speedometer quickly jumped as he raced toward the end of the road like a professional driver trying to qualify for a Grand Prix.

The hum of the engine filled the silence roaring between us, drowning out any more arguments. Sometimes, hunting got intense, and unfortunately, we sometimes took it out on each other. Expressing feelings wasn’t allowed in my family. It was another stupid law, according to my dad and brother. They acted like if they did, they would start growing lady parts.

Dad didn’t used to be like that, but after Mom died, everything changed. No more laughter, no more smiles, no more warmth. The vampire not only murdered my mother, but he killed my childhood.

Damon and I got out of the car and, once again, headed into The Grove. Rather than holing up in his office, Tim sat at the bar, drinking whiskey.

He swirled around on his stool and eyed us suspiciously. “What happened?”

Damon grabbed the whiskey bottle off the counter with his large, calloused hands, unscrewed the cap, and took a swig. “We were ambushed.”

Tim tossed back his shot and slammed the glass on the bar top. “Damn it.” His eyes widened as he stared at Damon. “Is that how you hurt your shoulder?”

Damon put down the bottle. “One of those damn things bit me.” He stared at Tim. “I’m not going to turn into Dracula, am I?”

---