Chasing Daybreak

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Unlike the night before, there were no cameramen crawling the gates. Security seemed lighter but much less discreet. I counted three guards patrolling the grounds, two at the gate, and another watching from the front door. I pulled my car into the circular driveway and parked. Leaning over, I flipped open my glove box to reveal the small handgun my father had given me. It was specially modified to fire wooden bullets. They wouldn’t kill a vamp, but they would sure deter one. I slipped it inside the back of my waistband, pulling my jacket down over it as I got out.

Twilight was making the sky that ominous shade between red and purple as the sun sank low in the horizon. Before I was halfway up the steps, the bodyguard had pushed the wooden door open for me.

“Thanks,” I muttered, following as he led me toward Xavier’s office.

But staring at his massive back spurred my curiosity. The guy was well over six foot, all broad shoulders and chunky muscles. He wasn’t overweight, but he had a build that on a human would have suggested a career as a pro-wrestler.

Envisioning some title like Mad Dog Muldoon or The Hitman, I just had to ask, “So, what’s your name?”

He didn’t slow down as he responded flatly, “Cage.”

“Ah. I’m Isabel. It’s nice to meet you, Cage.”

He grunted. He was the same guard who’d carried me to Xavier’s office the night before, the only witness to my meltdown. I was trying to be nice without having to come right out and thank him, but he remained aloof, so I dropped the small talk.

The corridor was longer than I remembered, the walls dotted with beautiful paintings and intricate sculptures in carved recesses. We passed a door that was cracked just a fraction, and I saw a bright light glowing. As someone moved inside, an odd-looking shadow passed the corner of my eye.

“What’s in here?” I asked, my hand going to the doorknob.

In a heartbeat, Cage was there, his hand clutching mine. “Nothing for you to see. Come on.”

I reluctantly let him lead me away.

We turned the corner and came upon Mercy leaning against the left-hand wall, scratching her nails on a stone sculpture that rested on a cylindrical pedestal. The way a cat scratched on furniture to sharpen its claws.

As soon as she caught sight of me, she pointed a finger my way and hissed, “You! This is all your fault.”

“Really? Again? You should get some new material.”

Without another word, she came at me like a rabid hyena. I thought for a moment that Cage would stop her, but she batted him aside as if he were a rag doll. Size, especially for vampires, was not indicative of strength. In a fraction of a second, I had the gun out and pulled the trigger.

The bullet caught her in the shoulder, the impact spinning her around. She managed to stay on her feet, and after a heartbeat, turned back to me again, expression wild as she lunged.

“I warned you once not to wound anything you couldn’t kill,” she spat.

I fired again, nailing her square in the throat. This time, the force of the bullet knocked her backwards, blood pouring down the front of her green silk blouse, turning it a macabre shade of brown.

I watched as she writhed on the floor, bubbles of blood erupting from the hole in her neck. Then right in front of my eyes, the hole shrank, knitting itself closed as the wooden pellet was expelled from her flesh.

There was a sound behind me and I spun, gun raised at chest level, and came face to face with Shane. He was wearing the remains of his tuxedo from the previous night.