Chapter 133

Chapter 133
As evening settled in, the nannies carefully wrapped the infants in their blankets. Seth stepped toward Kathy, kissed her forehead, and gave her a gentle smile.
“There’s blood in the fridge. Warm it a little first,” Seth said.
“Okay, Father. I need to speak with you before you go,” Kathy said.
“Is something wrong?”
“No. I just wanted to let you know someone will be coming to your lab for bloodwork,” Kathy said.
“You’ll have the results in the morning. Get some sleep. We’ll watch the little ones,” Seth said.
After everyone left, Kathy watched their cars disappear in different directions. Once she closed the door, Max growled at Zack, who quickly hid behind her.
“Max, leave him alone,” Kathy said. “Zack, go hunt, and use the back door.”
Kathy opened the back door, and Zack bolted into the woods. As she shut it behind him, she raised a barrier with her power, then crossed to the chair and pulled out the envelopes. She sensed a shadow behind her, then felt lips and a tongue against her neck.
“Who is Dorian Vale?” asked Anthony
“Someone who gives Skye information and location of where I am living right now. Plus, it’s seemed that you that Dorian knows that you have change. Skye will do anything to get into this life, I won’t let her. He sent hunters our way,”
“What should we do?”
“At the moment nothing, our parents got the babies, as right now they are not showing their face until they get my location. We need you to get into bed because your body is still weak,”
“I don’t want to be alone in the bedroom,”
Kathy reaches up and rubs his cheek and smiles then kisses his lip, she felt Anthony pulling her closer to him, which it made her smile.
“Alright, I will pull out the bed from the couch and I will make us something to eat and watch a movie,”
“Wait this couch has a bed inside,”
“Yes, my love. Or we can just lay on the floor?”
“It’s alright to have a couch bed,”
Kathy removed the pillows and Anthony help her and pulled out the bed and unfold it so the legs hold it up. Into the closet to get their sheet, and heavy comforter as Anthony grabs their pillow from their bed and brings them into the living room. Once everything is ready, Kathy looks at Anthony and smiles.
“You go and take a shower, I can smell that blood coming from you body,”
“Can you help me shower?”
“Um…no way, you can’t keep your hands,”
“Please, I promise will keep my hands to myself,”
“Alright, let go,”
With a shared glance, they moved toward the bathroom, Anthony flicking on the shower. He started to shed his clothes, and Kathy's eyes followed, a soft gasp escaping her as he entered the steaming enclosure, her cheeks flushing. Her gaze remained fixed on him as she approached, and Anthony's smile was met by him gripping her wrist and pulling her into the shower, her clothing instantly becoming drenched.
“You deceived me. My clothing is now completely soaked,”
“Then strip off those soaked clothes before the chill takes hold of you,”
The sound of her clothes hitting the floor was quick, a wet slap, as Anthony pulled her close, their kiss a deep immersion in the falling water.
“Come on, let’s finish showering. After that, I need to make sure you eat,”
Before Anthony could say anything, the lights went out, like the house blow out of fuse which it not normal because they was nothing that was really plug up. Kathy turn off the water so she can hear footsteps however she got a barrier up to keep something like this happening. Quickly open the shower door and grab Anthony shirt from the floor, and put it on.
“Anthony, you stay here,”
“No, I want to help,”
“Listen to me you are still transforming, and if you see a blood, you will enter that blood rage. I will be alright,”
“Just be careful,”
“I will,”
Kathy slipped out of the bathroom and eased the door shut behind her, careful not to let the latch click too loudly. Behind her, the last drops from the shower tapped against the tile, each tiny sound seeming too loud in the sudden silence. The house had fallen into complete darkness, the kind that pressed against the walls and swallowed every familiar shape, but her eyes adjusted quickly. Shadows sharpened into outlines—the edge of the hallway, the framed pictures on the wall, the narrow path toward the kitchen. The air still carried the warm scent of steam and soap from the bathroom, but beneath it came something colder: damp earth, night air, and the faint metallic tang of disturbed power. Moving barefoot and silent across the floor, she held her breath and listened for the slightest sound: a creak in the wood, a shift of weight, the scrape of a shoe where no one should have been. The house was not large, so it only took a few tense moments for her to reach the kitchen. There, the open breaker box hung like a warning, its metal door giving a soft, uneven creak, and cold night air slipped through the sliding door left ajar. Kathy stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind her, sealing Anthony inside. The backyard was dim beneath the night sky, the grass damp and cold against her feet as the smell of wet leaves and soil rose around her. Somewhere beyond the trees, an insect buzzed and fell quiet, as if the yard itself had stopped breathing. Then the air changed. A presence gathered behind her, sharp and sudden, carrying the scent of leather, sweat, and steel. Her sword formed in her hand in an instant, bright and solid, rising just in time to stop the attack. Metal rang through the dark, the clash slicing through the silence. As she turned, four more hunters emerged from the shadows, their boots whispering over the grass as they spread out to surround her. They had to be Dorian’s hunters, and if they had found her, Skye would soon know exactly where she lived. But there was one thing they could never be allowed to discover: Anthony was alone inside the house.
“Dorian sent you, didn’t he? Tell me what he wants before I start taking answers from you,” Kathy warned.
“He wants you dead or alive, and we don’t have time to waste. The sooner we bring him proof, the sooner we get paid,” one of the hunters said.
Kathy smiled at the hunters as if the thought of them dragging her body back to Dorian amused her. “You should have asked for more money,” she said. If they thought fear would slow her down, they were about to learn how wrong they were. The first hunter lunged, blade cutting through the dark, and Kathy met him head-on. “Take her down!” one of them shouted. Steel sparked against her sword as she twisted aside and drove a burst of power into his chest, sending him crashing into the grass. Not fast enough, she thought. There are too many of them, and Anthony is still inside. “Is that all Dorian sent?” Kathy snapped. The others rushed in before he hit the ground. One swung for her ribs. Another came low for her legs. Kathy spun between them, blocking one strike, ducking under the next, and blasting them backward before they could surround her. “Keep her busy!” another hunter barked. The words struck her harder than the blades. Keep her busy? Her stomach tightened. That meant one of them had another target. Across the yard, a shadow broke away from the fight. One hunter slipped through the sliding door and vanished inside. Kathy’s pulse kicked hard. “Anthony,” she breathed. No. Not him. Not while he was weak. Every second she spent outside was another second he was alone. Inside, the hunter moved fast through the dark hall, knife drawn, the clash of steel outside muffled behind the walls. “Found the way in,” he whispered into his communicator. He checked the bedroom—empty—then snapped toward the bathroom door. Night vision washed the room in a ghostly green as he shoved it open. Anthony lay on the floor, still beneath the towel at his waist. The hunter froze, listening. Nothing. “I found him,” he said, pressing the alert button. Then he stepped closer and kicked Anthony’s leg, ready to strike if he moved. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he muttered. Anthony remained perfectly still.
“Boss, if seem that he is sleeping,”
“Alright, tie him up, he probably still weak to fight back. Meet us at the spot once he is tied up,”
The hunter stood with his back turned to Anthony, completely unaware that Anthony had heard every word. For a moment, the room was silent except for the hunter's steady breathing. Slowly, Anthony lifted his head. His eyes glowed a vivid crimson in the darkness, casting an unnatural gleam across his face. A cold smile curled his lips as his fangs extended, sharp and gleaming.
Anthony rose to his feet with unsettling calm, his movements almost silent. The air seemed to grow heavier as he stepped forward.
Sensing something behind him, the hunter turned around. His eyes widened when he found Anthony standing over him. Fear flashed across his face, and he instinctively reached for his weapon, but he was too slow.
With a sudden burst of speed, Anthony lunged. The hunter barely had time to gasp before Anthony's fangs sank deep into his neck. A sharp cry tore from the hunter's throat as agony shot through his body. Warm blood filled Anthony's mouth, metallic and rich, while the hunter struggled desperately in his grasp.
In a final act of resistance, the hunter drove his blade into Anthony's side. The sickening sound of steel piercing flesh echoed through the room, but Anthony didn't flinch. It was as if the pain meant nothing to him.
The hunter's strength began to fade. His vision blurred, and his knees weakened as Anthony drained more of his blood. Finally, Anthony released him. The hunter staggered backward, gasping for breath.
Before he could escape, Anthony grabbed him by the head. A sharp crack shattered the silence as he snapped the hunter's neck. The body crumpled to the floor with a heavy thud, leaving only silence and the lingering scent of blood in the air.
Anthony's head suddenly began to spin. He had drained the hunter's blood far too quickly, and now the consequences were catching up to him. The room swayed violently around him, the walls appearing to bend and twist. A pounding ache throbbed behind his eyes, making it difficult to focus.
What is wrong with me? he thought, pressing a hand against his forehead. I've never reacted like this before.
He took a step forward, hoping to regain his balance, but his legs felt weak and unsteady. Before he could catch himself, he crashed to the floor. The cold surface beneath him sent a chill through his body, but it did little to clear the fog clouding his mind.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.
The metallic taste of blood lingered heavily on his tongue. Normally, feeding left him feeling stronger, sharper, more alive. This felt different. His stomach twisted, and every heartbeat echoed loudly in his ears.
Maybe I took too much too fast. Stupid. Kathy warned me about losing control.
He let out a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the dizziness would fade. Instead, another wave of nausea rolled through him.
This is pathetic. I just killed a hunter and now I can't even stand up.
Frustration simmered beneath his discomfort. He hated feeling weak. Hated feeling vulnerable. If another hunter showed up now, he wouldn't be able to fight back.
The thought sent a flicker of anxiety through him.
What if Kathy gets back too late? What if someone finds me like this?
Anthony swallowed hard and tried to sit up again. The room immediately lurched, forcing him back down.
"Not happening," he groaned.
He rested an arm over his eyes and focused on breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Slowly, steadily. The silence around him seemed to grow louder with every passing second. All he could hear was the faint ringing in his ears and the steady thump of his heart.
Kathy is never going to let me live this down.
Despite himself, a faint smile tugged at his lips. He could already imagine the lecture waiting for him. The thought brought an unexpected sense of comfort.
Just come back soon, he thought. Please.
His body felt heavy, as though every ounce of strength had drained from his limbs. With nothing else he could do, Anthony remained sprawled on the floor, staring at the ceiling and willing the world to stop spinning while he waited for Kathy to return.
Outside, Kathy struggled to keep the men away from the house, her grip tightening around her sword as shouts and the sounds of fighting echoed through the night. Then a blur of black burst from the woods. Zack, in his massive black jaguar form, sprang from the shadows with several vampire guards close behind him. The hunters barely had time to react before the guards tackled them to the ground. Cries of protest filled the air as cold metal handcuffs clicked around their wrists. Within moments, the hunters were dragged away toward the jail cells.
Relieved that they had the situation under control, Kathy turned and sprinted back toward the house. Her boots pounded against the floorboards as she raced down the hallway. A sickening metallic scent hit her nose before she reached the bathroom door. Blood.
Her heart lurched in her chest. The smell grew stronger with every step, thick and unmistakable.
Bursting into the room, she nearly slipped. Looking down, she discovered a hunter sprawled across the floor in a pool of dark, sticky blood. His lifeless eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, and his pale skin had already taken on a ghostly color. For a brief moment, Kathy froze.
Then her gaze shifted.
Anthony lay curled on his side a few feet away, his breathing shallow and uneven. Blood stained his lips and trickled down his chin. Kathy dropped to her knees beside him, the cold bathroom tiles pressing against her legs. Carefully lifting him into her arms, she felt him tremble. Her hands found the source of the injury almost immediately. A deep stab wound pierced his side, soaking his shirt with warm blood. The fabric clung to his skin, slick and wet beneath her fingers.
"Anthony," she whispered, panic rising in her throat.
His face was pale, and each ragged breath sounded weaker than the last. The coppery smell of blood filled the room as Kathy pressed her hand against the wound, desperately trying to stop the bleeding.
“Where did all this blood come from?” Kathy asked.
“From the dead body over there,” Anthony said.
“You idiot—you can’t drink that. It’s dead blood, and it will make you sick,”
“I know. Your father warned me. I fed on the hunter after killing him, but I must have drunk too quickly because I started feeling dizzy,”
“Yes, you body was drinking the synthetic blood, and now you taste human, warm blood your body don’t know how to handle it.”
Kathy checked his wound, surprised to see it healing naturally, and then saw him collapsed on the floor, needing Zack to handle the remains.