Status: Finished :)
I've Got a Nice Big Vampire Problem
- Chapter Forty Four - Jam Hands
Two men stood in front of the large wooden door that led to Lysias.
Thin whispers could be heard between them, both arguing about who would go in to tell him. One man, named Greg, argued, "But you're the one who was assigned to tell him! I was only supposed to escort you!"
The other man, Omar, scowled. "And escorts are supposed to do what the people their escorting tell them too!"
Greg rolled his eyes. "You made that up."
Omar took a step back from the door and, with the lightning fast movement that could only come from a vampire, he shoved Greg into the room, muttering, "You're a vamp, you can handle it."
Lysias looked up from the floor, where he had been pacing.
He was a brute of a man. His shoulders were wide and muscular, the rest of him filled out the same way. He had light brown hair and blue eyes with a wide jaw and a big nose. He was not attractive, but there was something about him that drew you too him. Something that made you want to watch him.
"What happened?" Lysias asked, leaning towards Greg.
"Ivan just reported back." Greg swallowed and squished his hands together behind his back.
"And?"
"She's gone."
Lysias' deadly eyes narrowed. "She's gone."
"Yes sir."
"Where did she go?"
"We don't know."
"You don't know."
"Yes sir."
Lysias' jaw locked, his nostrils flared and his fists clenched. Greg watched, shaking, as Lysias took a step closer to him. He sighed. And then his last breath was ripped from him.
________________________________________
Conan was the closest to madness he had ever been.
He stood in the airport, staring at the board of all the flights, Mackenzie and Gavin beside him.
He couldn't find her. He couldn't smell her anymore.
There were so many different smells that hit him from every direction in this. Grease, smoke, gas, air freshener, and thousands of different colognes and perfumes floated around him. Abigail's already faded scent was lost in the flurry of horrendous human smells that bombarded him.
"Where do we go?" Mackenzie asked quietly, glaring at the board.
The crushing pressure being applied to his chest pressed harder, forcing him to spit out the words, "I don't know."
If he had been human, he would have thrown up. Dark thoughts scored through his mind, creating a whirlwind of horror that threatened to consume him.
They told him Abigail was lost forever. She was captured by Salvador, or Lysias, and she was being tortured. Or worse, she was dead. No, worse would be dying. She was experiencing immense pain, and no one was there for her. He wasn't there for her. She was scared, bleeding, surrounded by vampires. They were smelling and touching her-
He jerked his head to the side, trying desperately to rid the thought from his mind.
He was giving up, and that was unacceptable. His head snapped up, his eyes set with determination. Abigail did not deserve to be given up on. No, anyone but her. He sniffed again.
“Let’s go.”
________________________________________
I ran full throttle down the lawn, my wavy mahogany hair flowing behind me, shrieking and laughing at the same time. I was wearing a red bikini Falvor had gotten me and had abandoned my towel at the house. Falvor had come out of his bedroom, dressed in swimming shorts, a mischievous grin on his face. He had informed me that we were going swimming, so I was standing there with my white towel wrapped around myself tightly. I hadn’t worn a bikini in around seven months, and I hadn’t stopped to look in the mirror, so I had no idea what this looked like.
I didn’t want to go swimming, and I told Falvor that. I told him I would rather just sit on the beach, because swimming was physical exertion and that seemed a little too much to ask for when I was away from Conan.
Falvor literally stuck his hands in the jar of strawberry jam and then started moving towards me, so I backed away, my eyes wide.
“Falvor, why the hell did you just stick your hands in the jam?”
“I’ll give you five seconds to run,” he told me, fighting a smile off.
“Falvor-”
“Five.”
“You can’t be serious-”
“Four.”
I stared at him for one moment longer, dropped my towel and bolted out of the house as fast as my legs could carry me, which led to what was happening right now. I was three quarters the way down the hill and very sure he was either at one, or coming after me. This made me scream once more and push myself faster.
I was very close to the dock.
“ABIGAIL!” I heard Falvor cry playfully. I laughed as my feet hit the wooden dock. I was only ten feet from the water. I wouldn’t make it, I decided. No way. So the moment I couldn’t see the lake bottom anymore, I hurled myself off the side of the dock, shrieking ever still, not remembering the last time I had been more elated.
Thin whispers could be heard between them, both arguing about who would go in to tell him. One man, named Greg, argued, "But you're the one who was assigned to tell him! I was only supposed to escort you!"
The other man, Omar, scowled. "And escorts are supposed to do what the people their escorting tell them too!"
Greg rolled his eyes. "You made that up."
Omar took a step back from the door and, with the lightning fast movement that could only come from a vampire, he shoved Greg into the room, muttering, "You're a vamp, you can handle it."
Lysias looked up from the floor, where he had been pacing.
He was a brute of a man. His shoulders were wide and muscular, the rest of him filled out the same way. He had light brown hair and blue eyes with a wide jaw and a big nose. He was not attractive, but there was something about him that drew you too him. Something that made you want to watch him.
"What happened?" Lysias asked, leaning towards Greg.
"Ivan just reported back." Greg swallowed and squished his hands together behind his back.
"And?"
"She's gone."
Lysias' deadly eyes narrowed. "She's gone."
"Yes sir."
"Where did she go?"
"We don't know."
"You don't know."
"Yes sir."
Lysias' jaw locked, his nostrils flared and his fists clenched. Greg watched, shaking, as Lysias took a step closer to him. He sighed. And then his last breath was ripped from him.
________________________________________
Conan was the closest to madness he had ever been.
He stood in the airport, staring at the board of all the flights, Mackenzie and Gavin beside him.
He couldn't find her. He couldn't smell her anymore.
There were so many different smells that hit him from every direction in this. Grease, smoke, gas, air freshener, and thousands of different colognes and perfumes floated around him. Abigail's already faded scent was lost in the flurry of horrendous human smells that bombarded him.
"Where do we go?" Mackenzie asked quietly, glaring at the board.
The crushing pressure being applied to his chest pressed harder, forcing him to spit out the words, "I don't know."
If he had been human, he would have thrown up. Dark thoughts scored through his mind, creating a whirlwind of horror that threatened to consume him.
They told him Abigail was lost forever. She was captured by Salvador, or Lysias, and she was being tortured. Or worse, she was dead. No, worse would be dying. She was experiencing immense pain, and no one was there for her. He wasn't there for her. She was scared, bleeding, surrounded by vampires. They were smelling and touching her-
He jerked his head to the side, trying desperately to rid the thought from his mind.
He was giving up, and that was unacceptable. His head snapped up, his eyes set with determination. Abigail did not deserve to be given up on. No, anyone but her. He sniffed again.
“Let’s go.”
________________________________________
I ran full throttle down the lawn, my wavy mahogany hair flowing behind me, shrieking and laughing at the same time. I was wearing a red bikini Falvor had gotten me and had abandoned my towel at the house. Falvor had come out of his bedroom, dressed in swimming shorts, a mischievous grin on his face. He had informed me that we were going swimming, so I was standing there with my white towel wrapped around myself tightly. I hadn’t worn a bikini in around seven months, and I hadn’t stopped to look in the mirror, so I had no idea what this looked like.
I didn’t want to go swimming, and I told Falvor that. I told him I would rather just sit on the beach, because swimming was physical exertion and that seemed a little too much to ask for when I was away from Conan.
Falvor literally stuck his hands in the jar of strawberry jam and then started moving towards me, so I backed away, my eyes wide.
“Falvor, why the hell did you just stick your hands in the jam?”
“I’ll give you five seconds to run,” he told me, fighting a smile off.
“Falvor-”
“Five.”
“You can’t be serious-”
“Four.”
I stared at him for one moment longer, dropped my towel and bolted out of the house as fast as my legs could carry me, which led to what was happening right now. I was three quarters the way down the hill and very sure he was either at one, or coming after me. This made me scream once more and push myself faster.
I was very close to the dock.
“ABIGAIL!” I heard Falvor cry playfully. I laughed as my feet hit the wooden dock. I was only ten feet from the water. I wouldn’t make it, I decided. No way. So the moment I couldn’t see the lake bottom anymore, I hurled myself off the side of the dock, shrieking ever still, not remembering the last time I had been more elated.