Chapter 195

It was a dangerous game. More dangerous than any he’d ever played. Since he’d been fighting Vampires since he was eight years old, that was saying something. But every time Brandy showed up in his bedroom, or met him in a secluded part of the property, or lingered with him after a hunt, it was worth it.
How they’d managed to keep anyone from knowing, he couldn’t say. Months went by, and as their trysts became more and more frequent, Christian began to believe there was a chance they simply never would get caught. He began to come up with methods of escape, planning where they would go, where they could stay, how they would survive. Most importantly, they had to know when Granger was closing in on them. It wouldn’t be easy, but nothing about the life of a Vampire killer ever was.
Autumn air chilled the humans, making them walk slightly more quickly and bundle up a little more. It wouldn’t get frigid here, as it did in Pennsylvania and New Jersey, but the weather would change. Christian greeted it. Perhaps he and Brandy could escape to the mountains not far away. If it snowed, it could make it more difficult for Granger to track them, so long as they were able to hide their tracks.
As he was walking into the hotel, he saw Brandy coming out of Granger’s office. He knew better than to pay much attention to her, but she looked upset. In fact, her eyes were red, as if she had been crying, and her hands were fisted as she set off across the foyer headed for the exterior door. He stared after her for a moment, wondering if he should follow her. It wasn’t like her not to say anything to him at all. Normally, she would at least greet him, but she hadn’t done more than glance in his direction.
It wasn’t worth it to go after her. If someone saw him talking to her when she was so upset, and he was attempting to make her feel better, they might gather what was truly going on. He watched her disappear down the street and then hurried up to his room, where he’d been headed before he saw her.
The image of her so distraught weighed heavily on him all afternoon. They had no hunt scheduled for that night, so he’d have no excuse to see her, and he doubted she’d come to him, especially if whatever had her storming out of the hotel had something to do with him. Surely, Granger wasn’t on to them, or he would’ve already come for Christian, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t just allow Brandy to walk out of the hotel when he knew what was going on. Wouldn’t he take her down to the dungeon and let the Vampires have at her? The thought sent a chill through his body.
Deciding the best course of action he could take would be to pretend nothing was wrong, Christian followed his normal routine to a T. Later that evening, he went to sit in the parlor with the other team members, listening in as several of them played poker. He rarely joined them. Gambling wasn’t his thing. Granger paid them a modest wage, and he kept his in the bank, along with the money he’d gotten from a small amount of prospecting. It was beginning to add up. He hoped it would come in handy if he were to ever convince Brandy to leave with him.
She wasn’t present, which wasn’t unusual. Like most nights, she was likely already in Granger’s bedroom. Christian couldn’t let his mind go further than the bedroom door. Beyond that, his stomach would tighten, and he’d be tempted to storm up the stairs and rip her away from the disgusting slug.
Jess was sitting in a chair on the other side of a table holding a lamp, flipping through the newspaper. Pipe smoke hit Christian’s lungs. He’d considered taking it up recently, but Brandy had mentioned she hated the smell of tobacco burning, so he’d decided now wasn’t the time. The scent of Jess’s was alluring though. He leaned in, breathing deeply, trying to keep his mind off of Brandy.
“Says here the night after next is a blue moon,” Jess said, folding the paper to look at him, a twinkle in his eye.
“You don’t say?” Christian wasn’t sure what other comment to make. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
“Wonder how ol’ Hamilton is doing,” Jess continued, as if the two thoughts were not connected. “Wonder if he ever gets angry that he decided to come back.”
“Why would he?” Christian asked. “Can you imagine how freeing it must be to live each day knowing nothing can kill you?” Christian wasn’t afraid of dying himself, but if he could give that to Brandy, he would in a heartbeat.
“Burr’s been gone, what, fifteen years now? Never did seem to recover from that, not even after Hamilton was back.” Jess didn’t remark on Christian’s statement, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts.
“He never forgave himself.” Christian shrugged. Forgiving himself was one thing he’d never struggled with. If, and it was a big if, he realized he’d done something wrong, he was always quick to let it go. Life was too full of decisions to regret one or two. Burr had become ill and incapacitated by a stroke; the Vampires had found him at last. It was too bad, but it was what it was. No Hunter could live forever. Jess was getting up there himself. He had to be over 200 by now.
“You, uh, still wanna come back then?” Jess asked, his voice low.
Immediately, Christian nodded. Recently, he’d been forced to think of his own mortality even more, what with Granger’s psychotic ways. “Yes, of course.”
Jess nodded. “Just checkin’. Don’t go dyin’ now, you hear?”
“I don’t plan on it.” But then, life was always changing people’s plans, wasn’t it? “I’m going to go upstairs and read now.”
“Already?” Jess asked. “It’s not even 8:30.”
“I hate to be too predictable,” Christian replied, making Jess laugh. He waved goodbye to a few of the others who happened to look up when he stirred and then headed out of the room, up the stairs to his own quarters.
Something seemed different about his bedroom, but he couldn’t quite place what it was. Having an eye for detail, Christian stood by the door and stared at the small space for several minutes. Everything appeared to be in order, and yet… something was different. It might drive him crazy trying to figure out what it was, but since nothing was popping out at him--his book was on his nightstand, the picture of his family on his dresser was at the precise angle, the clock was straight and ticking the correct time, the blankets on his bed were as they should be--he decided to let it go and settle on his bed to pick up where he’d left off on his book about scientific elements.
It was well past midnight, and he’d read the same paragraph about six times when his bedroom door opened. Brandy glided in, shutting the door behind her. Christian sat up immediately. “Brandy, I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” he said, placing his feet on the floor, intending to go to her.
She was shaking. “I’m sorry,” she said, getting to him before he could stand. She fell into his arms, and he pulled her close. “Granger and I had an argument earlier.”
He held her to his chest. “Are you all right?” He wanted to ask what it was about, wondering if Granger knew about him, but the fact that she was here made him think otherwise.
“Not really,” she admitted. “But there’s nothin’ I can do about it. I was hopin’… you could take my mind off of it for a little while.”
“Of course,” he replied, happy to oblige. She tipped her head up. He leaned down to kiss her, and in a moment, all of his worries had melted away. He hoped that she would have the same sensation as he hated to see her so disconcerted.
They made love, as they had so many times before, but this seemed different somehow, almost like the first time. Christian concentrated on every nuance of her body, every moment, every breath, as he had during that initial encounter, as if he knew somehow, in the back of his mind, that this was the last time, that Granger had found out or somehow spooked Brandy enough to drive her away from him forever. He didn’t want to accept that, just as he hadn’t accepted that the first time would be the last time, but when they were finished, and she curled up next to him, he had a feeling of loss unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. It almost brought tears to his eyes. He had to push them aside, though. Christian Henry was not a crier.
Nor was he one to revel in emotion. But tonight, it seemed clear that he had something he needed to say to her. “I love you, Brandy.”
The sound of her deep inhale was all that followed. She had heard him and reacted, but her response was not what he’d hoped for. He was about to say something else, something that excused her from having to reply in kind when she said, “I love you, too, Christian. I really do. I hope you can believe that.”
“Why wouldn’t I believe that?” he asked, tipping his head down to look at her.
She didn’t look up at him, though. She didn’t say anything at all, and for a moment he thought perhaps she’d fallen asleep.
Sleep was something he rarely experienced, but the idea that he could escape this world for a few moments was appealing. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, her fragrance filling her lungs. He didn’t expect to fall asleep at all, but his mind did go elsewhere, to a state of complete relaxation.
Until he felt her stirring.
What came next was a blinding fury of pain that had his eyes flying open and his lungs sucking in air. Christian gasped, his mouth dropping open, a white light flashing in front of his eyes as he tried to understand what had happened. His chest was on fire, the sensation of agony radiating into his arms and shoulders. Through blurry eyes, he searched Brandy’s tear streaked face for an answer. What had she done?
“I’m sorry!” she blurted, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’m so sorry, Christian. I really do love you. I hope you know that. It’s just… he has my brother, and he hasn’t Transformed yet. He said… if I didn’t do it… he’d kill Franklin. I couldn’t let that happen. I’m so sorry.”
It was then that Christian tore his eyes away from her to look down at what was causing all the fuss. A large butcher knife protruded from his chest, just over his heart, the blade buried a good six inches in muscle, not much more than the handle sticking out as blood covered his pectorals, dripped down his side, and stained his bedding.
Words escaped him. What could he say? Not that he could inhale enough air to form words at all. She was dressing, throwing her nightgown and robe on, still swiping at tears. He had a feeling she was waiting for him to die, that if he didn’t do it, she’d be forced to stab him again. As much as this hurt, the initial blow was far worse. He didn’t want to be stabbed again. If Brandy needed him to die, then that’s what he wanted to do.
“Get help, Brandy,” he choked out. “Get your brother. Go.” She nodded through her tears, but he knew she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t go anywhere. “He’ll… kill you, too.” Christian knew Granger well enough to understand what the man was all about. If she truly thought he would just forgive her and let her go on about her life, she was fooling herself. If he was dead, he couldn’t help her. “Get… Jess.”
Again, she nodded and then leaned down and kissed his lips. Her mouth felt so warm, or perhaps it was just that he was cold. It was the first time since he’d Transformed that he felt a chill, and it was taking over his whole body. “I love you, Christian.”
“I love you, too, Brandy.” The sound of her name on his lips made the pain lessen. “Brandy,” he said again. “Brandy.” Christian’s eyes felt heavy. The cold and pain mingled together, and then, everything went still and black and silent.