Page 71 of Blood Illusions

He held up his hands defensively. “Did I say we were?”

“No,” I admitted. Fear and panic were chasing rational thought away. “I just don’t know what to do.”

Justice and I stared at my poor dad. A deathly silence fell over us, crushing the excitement of finding him. The hope of getting him out of here alive faded. I needed a miracle, but miracles were scarce in the depths of hell.

Justice’s gaze flickered with hesitation before he ran a hand over his stubbled jaw. “There’s a way to help him become stronger,” he mentioned, finally breaking the silence.

My heart raced as I leaned closer. “What? How?” I whispered, afraid to even say the words out loud.

He reached for my hand and squeezed it tightly. “Blood. My blood. It won’t turn him into a vampire, but it will give him strength to survive the journey.” His low voice stole my breath.

Oh, God. The thought of giving my father vampire blood made me sick to my stomach. It went against everything he believed in. Out of all the things we hunted, Dad hated vampires the most. He would do anything to eradicate them from this world, especially after one killed our mother. It had become an obsession for him. He considered all vampires the scourge of the earth, and now the irony was that a vampire could save his life.

Dad would never forgive me if he found out what I’d done, but what choice did I have? Justice was right. Otherwise, he wouldn’t survive the journey back through the catacombs, out of the abbey, and to the car. How could I face my brother, knowing I let Dad die for his pride?

The fact was I couldn’t. We could fight about this later. He could disown me if he wanted to, but right now, I had the power to save him. I wasn’t going to waste it.

“Sawyer?” Justice asked quietly.

I clenched my jaw, not sure what to do. I wished Damon was here, but he wasn’t. The decision was mine and mine alone.

Justice’s words cut through the heavy air. “Sawyer, I can save your dad. My blood…it’s got some special perks. It’s his best shot.”

I stared at him, torn. Using vampire blood would have Dad spinning in his grave. If he had one. “He’d rather take a stake to the heart than owe one to a vampire,” I admitted, the bitter irony of the situation not lost on me.

Justice’s gaze was unyielding. “Sure, he might prefer that. But what about you? You ready to watch him check out for good when there’s another way?”

As I looked at Dad’s frail form, the fight in him flickering like a dying flame, I was struck by the absurdity of it all. Here we were, deep in Vampire Central, and a bloodsucker was our only lifeline. You couldn’t make this stuff up.

His breaths were becoming more shallow and labored. He was a fighter, a survivor, but even the strongest warriors had their limits. As unthinkable as it was, Justice’s offer presented the only sliver of hope I had.

I released a short, humorless laugh. “All right, Dracula, do your thing. But if he wakes up craving O negative, I’ll put a stake through your black heart.”

Justice didn’t hesitate. He knelt beside my father, exposing his wrist. As his fangs extended and he bit into his own flesh, I turned my head away, a tumult of emotions churning inside me. This was the antithesis of everything we had been raised to believe.

“Dad, please forgive me,” I murmured as I squeezed my dad’s cold hand.

The room was silent, save for the faint sound of blood dripping from Justice’s wrist to my father’s lips. I couldn’t watch, yet I couldn’t look away. It was a surreal, heart-wrenching moment. A vampire saving a hunter’s life.

After what felt like an eternity, Justice pulled back, his face somber. “It’s done. Now, we wait.”

I felt the first flicker of warmth returning to Dad’s hand. Through bitter tears, I whispered, “Congrats, Dad, you survived a vampire’s sword. Bet you never saw that coming on your hunter’s bingo card.”

As I sat there, the gravity of what I had allowed Justice to do sank into my soul. Dad was still with us, but at what cost? In the battle of hunters versus vampires, I had blurred the lines in a way that couldn’t be undone.

Dad’s ashen color changed to a faint pink on his cheeks. Justice’s blood was slowly bringing him back from the brink of death, and soon, I would have to face his wrath.

I stroked his rough hand, wishing his stiff fingers would grip mine. He was such a powerful man and always made me safe. I couldn’t lose him. No matter how many fights we had, he was still my dad. I needed him.

The metallic click of a gun being cocked jolted me out of my thoughts, and I flinched. “What’s wrong?” I whispered.

“I thought I heard something,” Justice replied in a hushed, worried tone.

I peered into the darkness behind the cell, but I couldn’t see a damn thing. “What?” But I knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“Footsteps,” he confirmed, his grip on the shotgun tightening.

I closed my eyes and held my breath, straining to hear anything. My hearing wasn’t as good as a vampire’s, and the only thing I caught was the thumping of my heart.

---