Infernal

Nina's POV

My insides hadn't stopped fluttering for almost two days. About a day ago before we left Fux motel, I'd woken up to Cameron still asleep. I'd stayed in my bed, silently peeking over. That had lasted for an hour.

I'd felt creepier than Hannibal Lecter.

Cameron sleeping was far more fascinating than bird-watching. He'd been so at peace and relaxed, turned on his stomach, arms under the pillow, face turned to me... I bit my lip stopping the reverie. I had more important things to focus on, like: we were minutes away from Rockwell.

I gulped dryly. Why was I feeling nervous? I'd been around Vampires before. A newbie who struggled with cravings, and her vengeful maker. I cringed at the reminder of Halloween. Torn necks, bleeding wounds and supernatural crawlers—was that what my life had been reduced to?

Well, I thought sneaking a glance left, I'm traveling with a effin' hot Nephilim. Brownie points right there.

I tried turning on my cell phone, again. Dead. Fantastic. I was on the road with no battery or charger. It had been five days since I last saw my step-brother, I was giving him some time to adjust to the new reality—if it was possible—but now... I wanted to talk to Henry. Know he was alright—okayish.

I dropped the Nokia on my lap with a sigh of pure frustration.

Cameron cocked his head in a bird-fashion.

"My phone kicked the curve," I mumbled. "I wanted to call Henry, see how he's doing." See if he hadn't decided to cut me off forever.

Cam tossed his iPhone carelessly; I caught it by a miracle, but shook my head.

"I don't know his grandparents phone number. I need my cell." I dropped the slim phone inside his jacket feeling Cameron moving a hand— "What are you doing?"

He'd stolen my cell and was holding it in a light grip, eyebrows drawn together for better focus. At first I didn't understand—then the screen showed the charging symbol. My mouth dropped a few inches.

Cameron was like a walking outlet.

I peeked at the battery gauge—it was filling to the top. Like it had been plugged in for two hours. My eyes dragged to his face, still itched in concentration and suddenly found myself thinking, yeah, he's really all sorts of amazing.

Cameron offered up the Nokia. As I retrieved it, my fingers brushed his palm—it was stinging with heat. A little red, too. Proof that he'd been feeding electrical power.

"I just have to be careful not to feed too much—it would totally burn the circuits." Sounded like it happened before.

"It's neat," I punched in my pin code and waited for all the functions to be a-go. Cameron was arching a brow my way. "It was very nice of you, thanks." I knew my body temperature had just surpassed itself.

Dialing Henry's grandparents house in California, I thought about what to say. What did I want to ask? What was I going to say if they asked what I was doing? There were so many things I needed to hide—so many things that would make me sound like a coldhearted bitch.

No one picked up on the other side. I bit my lip, re-dialing. Voice mail greeted me once more and I felt a quick urge to punch the recorded voice-lady.

Cameron's fingers rapped on the wheel to a personal beat, I watched his father's ring shining, reflecting light to the car's ceiling. He noticed the note of defeat on my face and quickly stopped the drumming.

"There's always later," he half-shrugged.

There was later, but I couldn't help to think... what if they didn't want to talk to me? I'd made a choice that hurt their grandson. Maybe now they hated me. The wall of my cheek sung with hurt as I bit harder—what if Henry didn't want to talk to me—ever?

"You made the right call." My head jerked, spotting those diamond-black eyes. "Letting Henry go," he explained. "That was the right thing to do—it'll keep him alive. Even if he never knows why you really did it... you will, and at the end of the day, you'll be thankful for making the right decision." My heart somersaulted in awe. His face pinched as if debating an issue. "You shouldn't feel guilty about it."

It was hard not to. Like any other time when my family came up, I bottled the sentiments. One of these days the cork would burst like champagne on New Year's.

"Angel uncle, Vampire aunt..." I tucked myself back, sharing an easy smirk as the next words left me, "Anyone else I should know about, say like, a Fallen cousin?"

"Damn, no. There's no one else I call family. Just Courtney and... Raphael." The Angel's name sounded sour on his mouth. No surprise there. "Definitely not a Fallen."

"But a Vampire's okay?" Cam said nothing. Tracing the shape of my knee, I remembered a few things I wanted sorted out. "How come Vampires can walk in the sun? In movies they either go up in flames or..." my nose twisted. "Sparkle."

He let out a deep chuckle sending a smile straight to my lips.

"They don't burn or glitter—" he rolled his eyes. "To any Demon sunlight is deadly. Possessors crawl inside humans using them as hosts, that way they're not in direct contact with the sun."

Chills broke over my skin just thinking about some creepy worm-like-thing slithering inside me.

"That's what happened to that guy you killed at school, huh? He had a Possessor inside him?"

He nodded, "When those crawl inside a human they become like a..." Cam paused smoothing a hand through his hair. "Like a virus. They take control of every function, the body starts to show signs of illness or even corpse-like symptoms. Cold pale skin, pushy, bruised veins—you saw." I had. And until date I hadn't seen a scarier creature. "Remember me telling you they changed sizes? Well, when they're inside humans they're really, really tiny—could be anywhere. So, you have to make them bust out of their meat-suits."

Like he had.

"That's why it didn't even flinch when I stabbed it."

"You hit the human body—the shell." Cameron sped up down the open road. I didn't see houses anywhere, on either road sides there were landscapes of green, wide meadows. "Anyway, Vampires aren't wired like Demons. Because they were humans before, Vampires can parade under the sun, but it does affect them some. Hot summer days really tire them out and jumble their eyesight. That's why they prefer bad weather."

So sunlight couldn't kill them. At all.

"Wood kills them?" he nodded. "Ripping their heads does the trick, too, they can't walk on holy ground—what about crucifixes?"

Cameron blinked, "Ain't got a clue about that one." He gave a sly grin turning a right. "Why suddenly so interested in Vampire 1.0.1?"

To be ready if your aunt turns out to be a skitzo like your uncle.

"No reason," I smiled brightly—too much.

"Such a liar, lovebird." His eyes twinkled with mischief and I couldn't help wonder what he was thinking. "Courtney's cool, you'll like her." I faced front but noticed Cam's lips in a tight line.

"Why do you think that?" he gave me the curiosity-killed-the-cat look. Then muttered something. I leaned towards his seat. "What?"

He shook his head not repeating whatever he'd said. I got the urge to flick his nose—just to tick him off—but we'd agreed on no-arguing-while-driving. This could very well grow into a fight.

I pressed my nose closer to the window as we rolled into the small town—Rockwell. It didn't look excruciatingly tiny, but Haven Hills was probably three times bigger. There was a lot of forest nearby, the smell coming from outside the lowered window told me the trees were mostly oaks.

"Not going to give me a tour?"

Cameron tipped his head left, "We're driving by town's square now. It's the second most interesting place around."

The only thing standing out was a large fountain made from polished, white stone. It was tall, looming with a figurine girl that could've been a nymph in the Greek era. The water came out of the pot she held and of the lion heads engraved below the platform she'd been built on.

"By interesting you mean beautiful?" I meant it as a joke—he assented, though. "Wha—really?"

"Why so surprised? I enjoy beauty, thought that was pretty obvious." A corner of his lips itched as his eyes lingered on each part of my body, before falling solely on my eyes.

I had a blush. Darn.

"Huh, if this is the second most interesting place, what's the first?"

Magically or not, as I finished asking we were slowing to a stop. Cameron slid the car in a vacant spot without breaking a sweat. When my eyes managed to get a glimpse of what was outside. I stared.

"Are you planning on getting wasted? 'Cause I'm not dragging your drunken ass around." I hurried out, meeting him by the Camaro's hood. "Cameron—"

"It's my aunt's, Nina, chill. Plus, I can't get drunk." Oh. "I mean, I could—" he crossed his arms, leaning on the shiny dark car. "But I'd have to drink Courtney out of house and home. I don't think she'd be happy with having to restock."

I didn't believe he needed that much to get drunk. His blood probably made it hard—with the healing thing—but Cam liked exaggerations, Phillip had told me several times.

The building itself was normal standard. No Gothic-like decorations—wasn't sure what I was expecting from a Vampire bar. The two floors in polished red brick weren't either brand new or old; on ground level was the bar and above, the apartment complex, I guessed.

Each letter making up the sign was bold, sharp and I'd bet my right hand that at night it glowed neon red. Whatever it said, it wasn't English or Spanish.

"Luna di Sangue," Cameron read with a fluent accent. Italian, then. "It means: blood moon."

Vamp bar&grill, made sense.

"That's nice,"

"Thanks," he pushed off the car. "I came up with it." I was left staring as he marched with the swagger of a hunter.

***

Cam's POV

Courtney wasn't expecting me—us. I hadn't phoned in since she would've begged to talk to Phill. I couldn't give her crap excuses, she saw right through them. I felt more comfortable explaining what my knuckle-head brother had gotten himself into in the flesh.

A part of me wished she'd read my thoughts as soon as her jade eyes spotted me waltzing up to the counter, where I could see her serving up shots. These people got their party-on early. Then again, many tourists stopped here.

It helped that hers was the only bar in town.

"I heard there were some mean body shots going 'round here." I pulled my chillax grin plopping on a maroon stool. "Hook me up with some of that?"

The bartender in her mid-twenties got a good look at me before shaking her head. Courtney finished pouring the last shot, then sauntered over—bottle in hand—and face lit. Each time I saw her, Rory looked exactly the same. The un-aging gene worked well; her hair was as dark as the coffees I'd been drowning since Phill went off the radar. It was long and thin falling behind her back completely. Her skin had a slight rosy tone, but what really brought her face alive were the two seductive green gems.

If I didn't consider Courtney my aunt, I'd be okay with admitting she was a hottie—Nina was behind me. The tickle in my neck told me so. And I could feel my brain piecing her image together.

The wavy hair, golden eyes, slim shoulders, curvy rack, curvy hips, full thighs—she was undoubtedly the sculptured female body of perfection.

"I'll give you a beer, handsome, but it's just a little too early for tequila." I cocked an eyebrow as a cold brew was slapped on the black wood counter. "Are you on winter break?" I relaxed at the easy-going attitude my aunt sported. No 'how are you', 'you look so grown up' shit. I liked that.

I took a quick swig, tasting the cool poison slip down my throat, warming my stomach. "Yeah, you could say I am."

Her eyes squinted at that but before long, they moved onto Nina who'd slipped onto the bar stool beside me. She was looking around, spotting the pool tables, going over the red lamps that only lit up at night—

"Is this a real living female?" her mouth was gaping.

"No, she's a mirage, Rory." I couldn't even get an eye roll in, much less a word.

Because as much as my aunt was cool, she was also a hopeless romantic. Nina's attention span was on the Vampire now.

"I might give you that shot, after all, Cam." She winked leaning over with another beer—stamping it in front of Nina. "Here you go, sweets, on the house. You have no idea how long I've waited for this one to find—"

"Rory—"

"—a girl that can stand him. He has the worst mood-swings, doesn't he?" Nina didn't stand a change at the speed Courtney was talking. "And then he's all up in the sky like no one's good enough for him—"

"Hey!" Although, yeah, that was true.

Nina was squirming, a faint smile taking residence on her delicious mouth, she looked like she'd pretend to be together if only to keep Rory's happy-go-lucky mood going strong. I on the other hand, wasn't that goodhearted.

"Nina isn't my girlfriend!" I hissed.

The smile half-slipped, "Oh, she's... not?" Nina and I shook heads. I downed a large gulp of beer—trying to choke my thoughts. "Shame," she sighed like I was a lost cause. "Phillip's then?"

"No," I ground out. I really wasn't going to explain that yes, in the past, it had been the case. She would want all the details and right now, I had more important matters to address. "She's a friend,"

"With benefits?" Nina choked and she hadn't taken a single swig. "Easy, hon. I won't judge if that's what it is—" Courtney's thumb jerked my way, she leaned on her elbow. "My nephews are stunning guys. Girls line up on the street when they come around—true story. Good for business, too."

"Please, stop," I mumbled rubbing a hand across my forehead. So this was what it felt like to be embarrassed by your parents? Could live without it. "We're not friends with benefits, we're just friends." Who've shared one make out and a kiss.

Nina caught my drift, playing along. But my aunt wasn't paying us any mind, her eyes were diving around the bar and outside.

"Where's your brother?"

She'd noticed. Didn't expect her not to, we always came together. This was the part I'd been dreading most. The strange manipulated dream from a night ago had kept my mind from wondering how this would go—how I'd tell Rory what happened.

"We need to talk." Her eyes grew serious. Long gone was playful, cool-aunt. "Can we go upstairs or somewhere private?"

Courtney was getting antsy with my closed off words. She knew something bad was coming, I knew she wouldn't pry into my mind—she'd never done it.

"Sure," she turned on her heel yelling for Billy to take over behind the counter. Who the hell Billy was, I didn't care. She was always hiring and firing—that way no one noticed her little aging problem, or the lack of it. "Come around, kids."

I watched Rory unlock the door behind her and walk out of sight. It led up to her apartment.

"Sorry about that," I whispered when Nina got up. "She's free-spirited. And a little nuts—okay a lot, but she means well." I wasn't sure why I was apologizing.

"It wasn't a big deal. She seems nice." She muttered clearly worried about talking about the Hell-issue. "Do you want me to stay here so you two can talk one-on-one?"

Her arms were wrapped around her middle section. I wasn't sure why Nina was feeling so out of place. Was it because she was at a bar? Because of my aunt? Because I said "just friends"? Or all of it?

Either way, I didn't like how spiky-blond guy—AKA Billy—was droning his eyes all over Nina. Not one bit. Because I knew we weren't just friends, but whatever the H we were, she was mine.

"No. You're coming with," I whispered by her ear, voice tingly. "I want you there with me." With Nina things didn't seem so bleak.

"Okay," she let out in a breathy tone.

When I led her behind the counter and to the door, I gave Billy a mess-with-her-and-your-junk's-gonna-be-missing-from-your-body-in-the-morning glare. He gulped scrambling to serve customers.

That's it, run along.

Nina followed me up the wooden stairs and down a blue painted hallway with rich wood flooring, the kind you didn't want to scratch. Ever. On either sides there were doors, I knew what laid behind them all. Rockwell used to be our summer vacation spot—until we'd finally hit puberty and Haven Hills' swimming hole became a beacon. Hot, senior girls parading in playboy wear? Not even Rory's bar compared.

This place was full of memories, some of the best. Learning how to play pool, hearing stories from out-of town folk, gambling, cooking—childhood had been pretty great when we didn't think about training.

At the end of the hall was a large living room. The TV was the only change, it was a flat screen now. The couches were blood-red, velvety and elegant forming an U. The pillows were black for contrast. The ceiling was high with a hanging diamond chandelier—yes, you heard me, diamond.

Rory had numerous pads across the world. She could buy this whole town and more. Being a Vampire meant money accumulation.

"Sit, please." My aunt's Brit accent was barely noticeable when she was being well-humored, when she was own edge, her roots came out to play.

Nina sat too far for my liking, I edged a tad closer, enough that our fingers brushed.

We were sitting. Step one was complete, now if I could only get over with step numero duo. I tried various positions—crossed legged, arm thrown over the couch's back, head resting on my fist—nothing worked. I'd never needed to prepared speeches, I winged it. Audiences shed tears.

This wasn't like getting my football mates ready to bulldoze the opposing team—no. This was serious. This was about my brother.

The clock ticking on the far wall wasn't helping. I wished Rory had thrown out the cuckoo clock.

"Cameron, please..." she didn't want to sound scared—I heard it, though. It made me feel guilty.

Scratching a temple with the side of my thumb, I leaned forward, deciding on lowering my elbows on my knees.

"Do you know what a Cambion is?"

Rory didn't need to say a word, the widening of her eyes was answer enough. The first thing on my mind was: why didn't she tell me? Probably the same reason why Raph hadn't told us.

"Yes, I know..." she blinked. "I know," my aunt repeated more steadily. She sounded like I'd just talked about a ghost.

"They're not extinct," I filled in knowing that was why she seemed so troubled. Courtney crossed her arms, gaze leveling with mine. She was cooling her emotions to think straight. "One of them showed up out of nowhere about five days ago—"

"Did Phillip get bitten?" Rory panicked nearly jumping out of her skin. "Oh my—where was that prat? Did he even bother getting his arsehole to Earth? I'm going to—"

"Wow, no, no. Phillip isn't dead," I held up my hands, stopping the overflowing insults—they could only be towards our personal guardian Angel. "He wasn't bitten. I was."

Rory let that sunk in, visibly relaxing. Until a frown took up her face.

"But you're alive."

I smirked bitterly, "Thanks for the enthusiasm, Rory, it's nice to know I'm cherished—really."

She tsked, and I got the sense she wanted to slap me upside the head for being a smartass. Like when I was a kid.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way, you know that." Yeah, I did. "What I meant was... you're alive. How? Because unless there was another Cambion lying around, you couldn't extract venom to get the antidote—did Raphael have a spare or what?"

It was surprising how much she knew about Cambions. They must've been abundant back when she was a newborn Vamp. Raph had mentioned them being the reason most of my kind was gone.

"There wasn't another Cambion, there was no antidote—not with us." I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, rubbing.

A hand slipped under my Italian leather jacket. It was a slow going movement, I could tell Courtney was too distracted waiting on my story to notice. Nina's gesture meant more than a thousand words.

It pushed me forward.

Regaining my voice, I looked up to Rory's jade irises.

"I was dying—and there wasn't anything else, I didn't tell him to do it, he was an idiot—a sentimental, stupid, brother and he went and... and made a deal. With a Fallen." Rory's jaw worked on its own, growing abnormally tight. "They took him—that's the only thing they'd ask in return for a cure. I know. So they took him." Her lips parted. I couldn't hold it in, the fear, disappointment, my emotions worked like an alien chestburster. "I went to Danvers, to the Hell Gate—it wouldn't open. I... I don't why, it just wouldn't open."

"You went to a Hell Gate?" she sounded angry. "It's a good thing it didn't open, Cameron—!"

"What? You want me to give up on my brother, too? I won't—I won't leave Phillip there!" I yelled feeling my shoulders shaking—Nina was making a grab for my shirt. I didn't even realize she was tugging me down.

Rory looked like I'd slapped her. Hard.

"What?" she gritted. "Me too? Who wants you to give up on Phillip?"

"Raphael—Michael—they don't want me to risk my life. They need me. For some plan—I don't know and I don't care. He just said to give up, he threatened to chain me up down in that basement." I growled lowly chewing down the memories of a not-so-distant-time.

"He what?" Courtney's fire detonated as she began pacing to a window, calming herself. "Where is he now? I'll tear him apart—he can't go around making threats and telling you to—" she didn't end the phrase. Too painful. Imagine how it felt like for me. Rory spun around, eyes fixing on Nina. "I'm sorry hon, but what's your role in all this...?"

I had a strong urge to tell Nina to stop pulling her hand away, we had to keep appearances. Neither of us was ready to have someone speculate on our feelings—we were sorting through them at out own pace.

Nina's chin tilted up—unafraid. "I'm a Psychic," her voice wasn't shy, it made me sizzle with pride. A good-girl my ass. I forced down a smirk.

Rory's hands smoothed down her hair. With a sharp sigh, my aunt sat down facing both of us. "Tell me everything. From the start."

I shared a glance with Nina. Telling 'everything' included her family's death, I didn't want to overstep, mention the wound I knew she had locked inside. But the blond beauty nodded, lips in a white line.

She wasn't a fan of recalling, but she wasn't a weakling. She'd deal.

I told all I could without mentioning my feelings, without saying how badly I'd treated Nina a few months back. It was hard to explain the night the Cambion ambushed us—hard to relive my death-bed, the last memory I had of my brother... and waking up to realizing he'd been dragged to Hell.