Midnight Whispers (The Midnight Duology #1)

Chapter 22

22

I leave the manor on foot, running at my full speed toward Lillia’s cottage. The lights and trees blur as I weave in and out of the trees. My vision is scarlet as I near the front door. I crash through the entrance and immediately cross the living room and go into the laundry room, inhaling Lillia’s blood deeply.

I’m able to smell that she was taken by a large man, his stench lingers behind the cottage. There is a faint remnant of gasoline mixed with Lillia’s blood, so I lock onto that and follow it to the main street. I find a set of tire tracks and follow that until there is a quick turn off onto a dirt road lined with trees. This road seems to go on forever and is void of any streetlights, suddenly the scent vanishes. I look around where I’m standing, nothing but forest surrounds me. In the distance there appears to be what looks like a flickering light from an abandoned house of some sort.

My instincts are screaming to go to the house, so I do. The light I saw from the distance was that of the broken porch light. The dirt around this house is vast, the fence line just on the inside of the forest. This must have been a farm of some sort in the early times of Emolyn Cove, but it is obvious that it has long since been deserted. I approach the front door with caution, not knowing what to expect, and I push it open slightly. The scent of the blood from two male, large males, rushes out through the crack. Naturally, the scent of the blood distracts me and causes venom to flow out onto my tongue. But the desire to drink their blood is not there in the slightest and I can tell by the staleness, they’ve been bleeding out for a few hours. Besides their limp corpses, the floor is littered with debris from years of being vandalized. The walls are decorated with graffiti and holes from people kicking and punching into them. I’m angry that this vile place is where Lillia had been, but I can tell by the atmosphere she’s already gone.

The silence throughout the house is deafening.

I walk toward the room in the back right corner, passing the kitchen that is torn to shreds. Once I open the door, the familiar scent of Lillia’s blood slams into me. I rush to the side of the bed where I find a small puddle. There’s not enough for me to believe this injury is life threatening, but it’s her blood, nonetheless.

But she’s not here.

Consumed by rage, I grab onto the withered frame of the bed and throw it up against the wall. The decrepit wood breaks upon the impact, falling to the floor in chunks. I run my fingers through my hair to try to steady my anger while I pace the room. I rummage through the kitchen, finding a book of matches before I go back outside. There’s a small shed in the back that’s just as run down as the house, so I go to that.

The hinges creak as I pull open one of the double doors and look around. A red container catches my eye as it was exactly what I was looking for, gasoline. Starting in the back room and making my way through the living room and kitchen, I scatter the floor with the gas before stopping at the threshold of the front door. I toss the gasoline container into the house, lighting a match and throwing it into the gas. The house is quickly engulfed in flames, I turn leaving it and the bodies burning as I head back to the manor.

“Anything?” Asher asks while Flora is pacing the main television room and doesn’t stop once I enter.

“There was something .”

“What?” Flora exclaims, her attention now on me.

“There were two large males in an abandoned house on the edge of town. Probably a farm or something at one point. There was,” I pause to contain my anger. “Blood on the floor that was Lillia’s.”

“Oh my god.” Flora sobs and sits on the couch.

“You’re sure?” I nod. “Was it a lot?”

“No. I’m certain it wasn’t enough for me to be able to conclude she’s severely injured, but this was from hours ago. Who knows where she is now?”

Almost as if on cue, my phone begins to ring. I pull it out of the pocket of my jeans.

“Who is it?” Flora says, her voice full of hope.

“I’m not sure. It’s a private number.” I hold up my finger. “Hello?”

“Finnian, hello.”

“Cedar.” I spit through the phone.

“I have your precious human. I don’t see what the big fuss is about, she’s not even that pretty. But she does smell delectable.” I can hear Lillia mumbling in the background.

“Where is she? ”

“Well, Finny, we are going on a little trip.”

“A trip? A trip where?”

“Think really hard.” There’s someone talking in the background. “Oh, I must go, the captain says it’s time to take off. See you later, Finnian.”

The phone line goes dead, and I crush the phone in my palm.

“What did he say?” Flora rushes to where I’m standing, looking up at me with pleading eyes.

“He said they’re going on a trip and to think really hard. I know they’re boarding a plane.” Asher and I look at one another as realization hits us simultaneously.

“France.” We both say.

“Asher, call Merritt and ask him to get the plane ready? We leave for France in an hour. Flora, you’ll have to stay ...”

“You will not tell me I have to stay here. I will be going with you to save my best friend. There’s no if’s and’s or but’s about it.” She crosses her arms and cocks her hip, holding my gaze until I nod. “I will be right back; I just need to pack a small bag.”

“I think I love that woman.” Asher whispers as he comes up behind me.

“If I’m being honest, I find her to be quite scary.”

“Me too.” He laughs and follows her path upstairs while dialing his phone.

I go up to my own room and pack a couple of outfits. I know exactly where he’s going, and I don’t know how messy things will get once we get there. My only hope is that Lillia will be safe in my arms once again soon.

Forty-five minutes later, the three of us arrive at the local airport and to our private hangar, where our pilot Merritt is waiting. We walk up the stairs and into the cabin of our jet. It comfortably seats ten people, but we’ve never had more than four others fly with us. I pour myself a mixture of whiskey and blood before taking my seat.

“You guys have your own plane?” Flora whispers to me.

“We have a lot of things. That’s what happens when you’ve lived the time we have.”

I pick the seat in the front, furthest away from everyone. The next eleven hours will be agonizing as I sit here, unable to sleep or think about anything except getting to Lillia fast. My mind is racing as I try to prepare myself for the state, she may be in. I know Cedar well enough to know that she is probably battered and bruised, the thought makes my vision blur in anger.

“We’ll get to her, Finnian.” Asher assures me. I nod and look out the window. If something were to happen to her because of me , I’d never forgive myself. Flora sits on the opposite side of the plane than us, her leg moving up and down as she tries to calm herself. She is chewing on the cuticles of her fingers, biting at them until they bleed.

“Kitten, you must not cause yourself harm like that.” Asher begs, crossing the plane and taking a seat in the spot beside her. He gently brushes a piece of her hair back and behind her ear. The tenderness between them makes me happy for Asher, but jealous all the same. She looks up at him as he whispers sweet nothings to her, and though she won’t admit it out loud, thinks she may have love in her heart for him too.

Images play in my mind of how I think this interaction with Cedar is going to go. There is nothing to do but kill him, but I must prepare myself to become a maker again. I would do whatever it took to save Lillia, especially when there’s nobody to blame but myself. Since Cedar is undoubtedly going back to our home in France, I believe it to only be fair that I kill him in the same way I killed Evelyn. So, when the time comes, he will lose his life by losing his heart. My lips curve into a wicked smile at the thought.

“I know that smile.” Asher turns to look at me with an arched brow.

“I’m just plotting Cedar’s poetic demise.”

“I understand.” He responds as he’s running his fingers through Flora’s hair.

“You have it bad, don’t you?” I ask, looking back and forth between a sleeping Flora and Asher. He looks down at where she lies on his chest.

“I believe I do. But don’t tell her that. I think she’ll run away from me, and I'll be beside myself if that happens.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Who would have thought that you and I would fall in love with mortal best friends.”

I laugh, leaning my head back on the headrest. Looking back on our many years of living together, I wouldn’t have expected either of us to be in the place we are now. The one thing I’ve learned throughout my lifetimes is that the only constant about life is that it's constantly changing and if you’re stuck planning for everything that happens, it will pass you by in the blink of an eye.

If I could sleep, I know I would dream of the day I turned Wren. I imagine, aside from losing a mate or dying, losing a protégé is one of the most painful moments a vampire could experience.

“What is your name, boy?”

“Wren… I’m Wren Alexander.”

I get down on the cold stone floor, kneeling next to him and bite down on my own wrist, the blood immediately pooling on my skin. I’ve never had much desire to become a maker, especially when I was left with little to no choice in changing someone. However, in one selfish act of passion, I brought this upon myself and Wren.

“Drink.” I demand, placing my wrist against his mouth. “Please, drink.”

He resists at first, looking up at me with pleading eyes. I can sense his defeat at the same time he let his shoulders sag, moving his lips to my wrist. He begins to drink from me, gentle at first. Once the rush of endorphins fills his blood, he releases a moan and begins to suck more eagerly.

Once I am satisfied with the amount of blood he’s taken, I look up to the Counsel. In unison the four of them nod and my stomach sinks. I knew what came next and it was the reason I ran to begin with.

I place my hands on the side of Wren’s jaw, he looks up at me with my blood staining his lips. “I’m sorry.” I whisper into the space between us. In one quick movement, I wrench his neck and break it. His body went limp, and he fell onto my lap.