Chapter 27

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.