hair back and
rocking her body.
She blinked away the spots the light had caused and when her
eyes finally focused she stared in shock.
“Grandma?” she whispered.
Eleanor was sitting across from her and it looked as though
she was wearing the same purple robe Fiona had on. But that was impossible.
“It’s time, Fiona. I’m sorry I wasn’t around long enough to
explain everything that I wanted to.”
“How is it possible that you are here?” Fiona was having a
hard time understanding what was going on.
“Relax, my child, and know that I love you and I’ll always
be with you.”
Her words calmed Fiona and her eyelids grew heavy. Her body
went limp and then the memories started. At first they were just little
glimpses but they got stronger with every passing second.
The smell of the spilled blood hit her nose and the screams
of the human victims reached her ears. But always Eleanor was there, fighting
with a lethal-looking katana sword. The steel of the blade glinted as she
slashed at her vampire victims with it.
The memories poured in faster and faster, so quickly they
started to blur together. There was so much blood.
Fiona could see the kills her grandmother had made, the vamps
who had crossed the line and drank too deeply, killing the human.
But the blood of the vamps brought a feeling of
satisfaction. Especially when the images took on a dreamlike quality and Fiona
knew she was seeing the deaths of the humans who had been used like pieces of
meat.
They were tossed aside with no regard for their lives and
the people who would miss them. The images kept coming, filling her mind with
the screams of loss and the desperation of the last few minutes of their
existences.
Then she felt the pain of losing a mate. It had happened
several times in the course of her family history and it was almost more than
she could bear. But she understood. A hunter was meant to be alone.
When it finally stopped she was so exhausted she couldn’t
lift herself from the cold stone underneath her. Every limb felt weighted down
with lead and she was helpless to move them. Her eyes closed and she was lost
before her body slumped forward.
Trent paced back and forth along the small confines of
Granny’s kitchen. He could see the shape of Fiona through the window but it
didn’t make him feel any better.
Granny seemed to be a little on edge herself and it only
made matters worse.
“For goodness sake, Trent! Sit down before you wear a hole
through my floor!” Granny demanded.
Trent sprawled in a kitchen chair and watched her calmly
stir her tea.
“Aren’t you worried?” he asked. His fingers unconsciously
went to his face and rubbed the still-strange-feeling skin there.
She looked up at him and set her spoon down. “Some things
can’t be altered. This is an experience that Fiona must go through herself and
we can’t interfere.” She reached for his hand and gripped it tightly. “This is
why I warned you, Trent. You can’t help her. The life of a hunter is a
dangerous and lonely road.”
A crack of thunder rumbled in the distance and they both
jumped in surprise. Trent went to the window and the light from the candles was
gone. He could no longer see the shape of Fiona’s back in the garden.
He barreled out the back door, ignoring his grandmother
shouting for him to wait behind him. He reached Fiona’s side in seconds.
She was slumped into a heap on the cold rocks. He scooped
her up into his arms and carried her inside the house.
He laid her on the couch and tried to wake her. She mumbled
incoherently and when she did open her eyes they were unfocused. He began to
worry and glanced up at Granny, who was hovering close to his shoulder.
“Let me try, Trent,” she said as she prodded him out of the
way. She sat next to Fiona and held her hands in her own as she said some
quietly whispered words.
Fiona jerked awake and called out, “Trent!”
He was by her side in an instant and leaned down close to
her
rocking her body.
She blinked away the spots the light had caused and when her
eyes finally focused she stared in shock.
“Grandma?” she whispered.
Eleanor was sitting across from her and it looked as though
she was wearing the same purple robe Fiona had on. But that was impossible.
“It’s time, Fiona. I’m sorry I wasn’t around long enough to
explain everything that I wanted to.”
“How is it possible that you are here?” Fiona was having a
hard time understanding what was going on.
“Relax, my child, and know that I love you and I’ll always
be with you.”
Her words calmed Fiona and her eyelids grew heavy. Her body
went limp and then the memories started. At first they were just little
glimpses but they got stronger with every passing second.
The smell of the spilled blood hit her nose and the screams
of the human victims reached her ears. But always Eleanor was there, fighting
with a lethal-looking katana sword. The steel of the blade glinted as she
slashed at her vampire victims with it.
The memories poured in faster and faster, so quickly they
started to blur together. There was so much blood.
Fiona could see the kills her grandmother had made, the vamps
who had crossed the line and drank too deeply, killing the human.
But the blood of the vamps brought a feeling of
satisfaction. Especially when the images took on a dreamlike quality and Fiona
knew she was seeing the deaths of the humans who had been used like pieces of
meat.
They were tossed aside with no regard for their lives and
the people who would miss them. The images kept coming, filling her mind with
the screams of loss and the desperation of the last few minutes of their
existences.
Then she felt the pain of losing a mate. It had happened
several times in the course of her family history and it was almost more than
she could bear. But she understood. A hunter was meant to be alone.
When it finally stopped she was so exhausted she couldn’t
lift herself from the cold stone underneath her. Every limb felt weighted down
with lead and she was helpless to move them. Her eyes closed and she was lost
before her body slumped forward.
Trent paced back and forth along the small confines of
Granny’s kitchen. He could see the shape of Fiona through the window but it
didn’t make him feel any better.
Granny seemed to be a little on edge herself and it only
made matters worse.
“For goodness sake, Trent! Sit down before you wear a hole
through my floor!” Granny demanded.
Trent sprawled in a kitchen chair and watched her calmly
stir her tea.
“Aren’t you worried?” he asked. His fingers unconsciously
went to his face and rubbed the still-strange-feeling skin there.
She looked up at him and set her spoon down. “Some things
can’t be altered. This is an experience that Fiona must go through herself and
we can’t interfere.” She reached for his hand and gripped it tightly. “This is
why I warned you, Trent. You can’t help her. The life of a hunter is a
dangerous and lonely road.”
A crack of thunder rumbled in the distance and they both
jumped in surprise. Trent went to the window and the light from the candles was
gone. He could no longer see the shape of Fiona’s back in the garden.
He barreled out the back door, ignoring his grandmother
shouting for him to wait behind him. He reached Fiona’s side in seconds.
She was slumped into a heap on the cold rocks. He scooped
her up into his arms and carried her inside the house.
He laid her on the couch and tried to wake her. She mumbled
incoherently and when she did open her eyes they were unfocused. He began to
worry and glanced up at Granny, who was hovering close to his shoulder.
“Let me try, Trent,” she said as she prodded him out of the
way. She sat next to Fiona and held her hands in her own as she said some
quietly whispered words.
Fiona jerked awake and called out, “Trent!”
He was by her side in an instant and leaned down close to
her
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