Chapter 177
The scent of blood clung to the air. Christian could smell it before he even entered the stone house, nestled on the banks of the Delaware, far on the other side of Philadelphia from his parents’ home. He scanned the faces of the rest of his party. No one else seemed to notice. Had their years of tracking Vampires, and consequently walking into blood baths, caused them to lose their sensitivity to the metallic odor, or was his nose simply stronger than theirs?
While the odor was offensive, he had to get past it. This was likely the most important night of his life. Soon enough, he’d be face-to-face with another monster, and this time, he couldn't afford to wet his pants and wait to be rescued. While he wouldn’t be expected to fight the monster all by himself, since even a small scratch from the creature could cause him to turn into one of its kind instead of into one of the Goodies as planned, he would need to combat it so that whatever it was in his blood that signaled he was supposed to start the Transformation process would be triggered.
“Stay back until we find him,” his mother whispered.
Christian nodded, knowing that her excellent eyesight could cut through the darkness in ways his could not. There were others with them, of course. His father had asked some of his acquaintances from elsewhere to join them on such an important occasion. The team consisted of four Guardians and six Hunters, including Jess and Thomas, though Peter insisted on being in charge of this particular hunt, rather than letting Thomas give the orders. This was a special event, he reminded them. This was the night his son became a man.
Being seventeen did make Christian feel as if he were grown, even if he did still live under his parents’ roof and rely on them for most everything. Once the Transformation process was over, however, that would all be different. It might take months for the entire change to take place. It depended on several factors he didn’t quite understand, though he wanted to. One of these days, he was going to study exactly what it was inside of his body that made him change while others could not. Now was not the time for that, though. He pressed his wonderings away and listened carefully to what his parents were saying.
They were in the basement of a large, stone manor house. It wasn’t old, but the scent of blood mixing with the mildew made Christian feel as if he were in the dungeon of an ancient castle. He was in the middle of the pack and was thankful Jess was behind him. After the man had saved his life, he’d grown quite fond of him. He was still a drunkard, but Christian could forgive that one vice since he’d taken out the Vampire who’d literally scared the piss out of him and almost claimed him for her midnight feast.
“Where’s that smell coming from?” Christian whispered to his mother, hoping his father, who was at the front of the pack, wouldn’t hear him and bark at him to stop speaking.
“I imagine it’s blood seeping through the floorboards,” his mother replied.
Christian felt his own blood seeping from his face. He hadn’t imagined that was possible. If Vampires meant to drink blood, why would they spill so much of it? How many people had to have met their demise in the room above them for that to be the case?
He would soon find out. The staircase that led up to the first floor came into view in front of them. His father quickly, but quietly, made his way up the stairs, joined by one of his associates, a Guardian Christian had never met before by the name of Stephen Moylan. Like Peter, he seemed strict and to the point, but he had yet to raise his voice. Christian felt comfortable following Stephen into battle, especially since his mother, the strongest Guardian Christian had ever heard of, was next to him. Elizabeth Henry’s reputation preceded her. Behind him, Thomas and Jess would guard the rear, along with several other of his father’s associates.
Christian was careful not to let his footsteps fall too heavily or cause the stairs to creak. Being the only human among the supernatural, it was difficult enough for him to keep a healthy pace with them, let alone worry about the noise he was making. But he made it up the stairs without making a racket or slowing them down too much.
Noises filtered through the door even before Christian reached the uppermost steps where his father and the others were congregated. Peter had his ear to the door, listening. Even without the more sensitive hearing of the others, Christian could identify what the sounds were. Lapping. Sucking. Dripping. Once again, he felt the blood drain from his face and tasted bile in the back of his throat. He’d been so worried about not peeing his pants this time, he hadn’t considered the fact that he might throw up all over his teammates.
Peter was shaking his head, also in disgust, but he held up three fingers, and the others in the party nodded. Christian didn’t know what that meant. He looked to his mother, but she didn’t explain, only squeezed his wrist tightly. A moment later, Peter burst through the door.
The team scattered out across what appeared to be a dining room, and Christian immediately saw what the fingers had meant. Three forms kneeled on the floor amongst more bodies than he could easily count. Three fingers--three Vampires. Three opportunities for Christian to begin the Transformation process.
The Vampires had other plans, though. As they realized they’d been caught in the act, two of them, an older woman and a young man that looked as if he had to be near Christian’s age, got up off of the floor quickly and started looking for exits. The third, a man so tall and muscular, he had at least a foot on the largest of their team members and probably at good thirty pounds of lean mass, stood near the dining room table, blood dripping down his chin, his face mutated in a horrific grin. The urge to run, to vomit, to piss his pants, all hit Christian at once. His mother’s grip on his arm strengthened. The first option was out, but he wasn’t above the other two. Not yet, anyway.
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