Mercy's Debt (Montgomery's Vampires Series Book One) (13 page)

(
Did anybody
not
see that damn article?)

And t
he third: “Mercy, it’s me again. I didn’t want to do this over voicemail, but I’m just really missing you, okay? When I saw you with…
that guy
, it really made me realize what a huge mistake I made. Please call me.”

And the fourth: “
I’m kind of losing my shit, Mercy. I miss you so much. Please call me back.”

I
t was the words
losing my shit
that did it. I erased every single one of his messages and threw the phone down on the bed disgustedly.

How dare
he
complain to
me
about his mental anguish after all he put me through!

And could the asshole
be any more transparent?

So, I see,
he wanted nothing to do with me many, many months ago. But now that he believed that a hot/caring/wealthy man had interest in me… Suddenly I’m a catch?

M
y blood boiled as I recollected all the times that I had called him, cried pathetically, and begged for him to face me like a man. But how he had hid from me like a sad little boy, refusing to meet me for even five minutes to offer up an apology, denying me the closure that I needed!

Mathew was a lowly coward,
a total bastard, the worst kind of scoundrel ex any girl could have. He was the kind of guy who had an uncanny talent for turning any situation around to make the victim seem like the guilty party. To
think
that he actually blamed
me
for his infidelity, claiming that I’d left him feeling lonely and neglected because I spent too much time studying at school…

Well,
fuck him
, I fumed. Let him be the one to cry for once.

I had
to get away from the suffocating confines of my sleepy-smelling bedroom. I decided that some fresh air was in order, and that a brisk jog was just what I needed to help burn off the bedeviling resentment surging through my veins.

I skul
ked over to my closet and yanked out my running shoes. I pulled open my dresser drawer, ripping out socks, shorts, a sports bra, and a tank. I threw it all on and smoothed my hair back into a tight ponytail. I scowled at my reflection in the mirror.
Look out world, here she comes.

I quick
ly glanced out the window. The sun was just starting to set, but I still had enough time to get in a few miles before nightfall.

I threaded my spare key onto my shoelace
, grabbed my trusty can of pepper spray (a girl could never be too safe), and I was out the door.

C
utting across the lawn, I headed to the area where the trail entrance was located, just a few feet behind the leasing office of my apartment complex. I stretched briefly- much less than I probably should have- a smidge overzealous to get my heart pumping.

I entered the trail, determined to get at least two mil
es under my belt before turning around, which would make for a nice four mile round-trip.

I ran under the
colossal redwood trees, concentrating on the soothing sounds of my even breathing, my tennis shoes beating hard against the compact dirt.

Before I knew it, I was at the two-mile
mark. I still felt amped, though, and utterly capable of running a few more miles. It had been a while since I’d gone for a run, and my poor muscles twitched beneath my skin, almost
pleading
for additional exercise.

I looked up at the fading sun, tossing a mental coin inside my head. If I kept going, I’d
unquestionably feel better, but there was also a good chance that I’d spend a small portion of my return trip running in the dark.

Having no
particular desire to break my ankle, I made a quick assessment of the state of the trail. It hadn’t stormed in weeks, so there was hardly any debris on the track except for the occasional piece of acorn shell scattered amongst the dirt. I looked up; tall lights loomed above the path about every hundred feet, illuminating the ground in a vague sort of way. As long as I didn’t stray from the path, I’d be fine.

I
continued on, and reached another mile marker within a few minutes. Lost in my thoughts of Mathew, Robert, and my ass-chewing from Marlena, I ran past another marker, and then another.

Suddenly aware of my surroundings,
I stopped dead in my tracks. I’d gone just a little over five miles. And now the sky was black.

One of Liz’s frequently used phrases came to mind:
And that, my friend, is what happens when a smart person does a dumbass thing.

Dumbfounded, I turned on my heel and beg
an my five-mile jog back home. I gripped the pepper spray in my sweaty hand, horribly aware that there wasn’t another living soul on the trail in either direction.

I picked up the pace as I passed
the first marker. Soon, however, my body ran out of steam, unaccustomed to running so many miles on end. I was thirsty, too, and the joints in my knees and ankles were starting to ache badly. Clearly, I had not thought the run through properly.

I slowed my stride
, electing to take a short break from jogging on the off chance that it would help me regain some small spark of energy. I knew my body better than that, though. I’d hit the dreaded runner’s wall.

My footsteps, which I’d
found solace in earlier, now sounded like thunderous booms, broadcasting to every serial killer within a  fifty mile radius that there was an exhausted woman on her own deep in the epicenter of a secluded forest.

It occurred to me, then, just how foolish I’d been in
my haste. I hadn’t bothered to send a text to Liz before I left. Not only had I not anticipated staying gone longer than an hour, but I also had yet to conceive my idiotic plan which called for running ten miles at sunset. If some axe-wielding maniac jumped out at me from behind the trees and hacked me up into a million pieces, it was very likely that I might never be found.

No, I thought
with a shiver. I was best not to contemplate such things until
after
I was back inside the apartment, locked safely behind closed doors.

A twig cracked
somewhere out in the trees behind me, and I nearly gave myself whiplash by whirling my head around to listen. I held my breath, waiting for the man with an axe to make an appearance. He didn’t show; perhaps he hadn’t heard my broadcast after all.

I walked faster
, temporarily immersed in the absolute darkness that fell in-between the long gaps in the trail lights.

Just as I reached a second
mile marker- only three left to go- I heard another twig snap. And then a few more. The noises sounded like they were getting progressively closer.
Footsteps. Or maybe a horse galloping.

I stopped. S
o did the noises from within the trees.

“H-hello?”
I called. “Is there somebody out there?”

I received no answer, whic
h I couldn’t decide was more or less petrifying. I thought of the creature from my nightmare, wondering if he-
it
- was capable of speaking.

I jogged forward
a bit, my joints screaming in protest. The noise from the trees started up again. I wheeled around, keyed up on terror.

“If somebody is out there, you should make yourself known,
” I called into the darkness. I tried to sound nonchalant, as if maybe the person hiding in the woods and I were having some sort of huge misunderstanding. I held my breath again, hoping that a young backpacker was going to come stumbling out from amongst the trees, apologizing profusely for inadvertently scaring me.

But nothing happened.

Unable to rip my eyes away from the woods, I took a step. Another twig snapped from within the gloom.

I held my pepper spray ou
t in front of me. My hand was shaking so badly, I probably wouldn’t have been able to hit a target that was fifty feet wide and placed two inches in front of me.

“
Listen, dickwad! I’m armed, you hear me?” I hollered. “You come anywhere near me, and I will mace your ass into blind oblivion!”

I fe
lt like a total moron screaming such a thing. I was about as tough as any 120 pound woman would be while  stuck in the dark woods on her own, wearing skimpy pink jogging clothes, and carrying a ten dollar canister of nonlethal pepper spray. Yah, I was a regular Schwarzenegger.

I
paused, my head cocked towards the maddeningly noiseless woodland. I took a few steps.

Then:

Snap.

Snap.

Clop.

Snap.

Clop.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

Whoever- or
whatever
- was in the forest was now pursuing me.

I was not going to
wait around to find out what it wanted.

I broke into a
blind, knees-hitting-the-chest kind of sprint. I could hear the footsteps closing in on me over my panicked cries, advancing closer and closer. The thing was…
cackling
, mocking my terror sinisterly.

B
ut I didn’t dare turn around.

Not
until I reached the final mile marker.

Still running at full s
peed, I swiftly turned my head, letting out a confused yelp as I discovered that the trail behind me was empty.

Had I imagined it all?
I slowed to a trot, gaping into the woods disbelievingly.

I was
just about to place my foot on the ground when I froze.

Two inches
below my shoe was a rattlesnake, its head reared back in preparation of a strike.

Before I could react
, it snapped its head out at my leg. I leaped back off the dirt path, its open mouth missing me by a lucky centimeter.

I didn’t, however, escape completely unscathed.

I toppled over the edge of the trail ledge, losing my pepper spray somewhere in the dirt. I plummeted down into the black forest, scraping my hands and knees on rocks and tree trunks. Like spare change forgotten in a dryer, I tumbled and tumbled until I finally landed in a mass of thorny branches.

It was Mathew I heard this time
, not Liz:
I’m losing my shit.

I
howled like I had never howled before in my entire life, fighting against the spiky twigs-
or were they fingers
- slicing into my skin and pulling at my hair. I screamed, not over the pain, but over the trepidation of being helpless against the rattlesnake slithering down to bite me, the ax murderer coming to chop off my head, and  the
thing
… slipping down into the darkness to steal my soul.

I finally broke
free, scrambled back up the ridge, and found my way onto the trail. Had it not been for the apartment complex in the distance lighting the way, I may have spent the entire night lost in the darkness of the forest.

I ran towards the exit of the
trail, dragging broken pieces of twigs behind me on the dirt. I didn’t stop running until I reached the front door to my apartment.

This time
, I did not look back.

THIRTEEN

Once I
was under the glaring light inside my apartment, it was easy to realize just how silly I’d been on the trail.

I felt a little
ridiculous. There had been no boogeyman chasing after me. I’d let my imagination get the better of me, traumatized by the ghostly horseman in my dream. Still, I wouldn’t be running at night anytime in the near future.

I went into the
bathroom and flipped on the light. My workout gear was snagged and destroyed, with small holes and skid marks here and there. I evaluated my wounds which, amazingly, weren’t all that bad. My palms and knees were raw and pink, with a few minor scrapes covered in dirt. My legs were covered in scratches. Some were bleeding, but nothing that wouldn’t be healed in a couple of days. My injuries could have been a lot worse, so I considered myself lucky. But I’d definitely looked better.

My hair was what was the most upsetting. My ponytail had come lose during my scuffle with the branches, and now it lay matted against my face in an angry snarl. There were bits of twigs and leafs
woven through the tangles, along with a small remnant of a spider web. I shuttered to think where its maker had been hiding during my journey down into the shadowy forest.

I pick
ed the debris from my tresses, and then hobbled into the shower. The warm water felt amazing on my sore muscles, so I decided to take a bath instead. I plugged the drain, poured in some lavender scented Epsom salts, and lay back as the healing water began to swathe my scuffed skin. I focused on my breathing- inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale- until my heart slowed from its jackhammer pace.

I held up my hand. I
t was hardly shaking anymore. I pulled the shower curtain closed on the outside of the tub, giving the bath a womblike effect. A grey washcloth floated at the top of the salty water like a jellyfish. I pulled it out and placed it over my face, the comforting scent of lavender filling my nostrils.

Sometime later, I jolted
awake with a cry. The water sloshed up against my shampoo and conditioner bottles in small waves, knocking them into the tub.

I must
have dozed for quite a while. The water was now only tepid, and my skin was covered in goose bumps.

I fished
the bottles out of the tub and pulled the plug. Drawing back the shower curtain, I grabbed my bathrobe and threw it over my shivering body.

And then I saw it
.

Drawn i
n the steam covering the mirror was a smiley face. The corners of its lips had started to drip, giving its mouth a blurry set of long fangs.

Next to the face was a greeting:

Hi Mercy.

“Liz?” I
called, though I knew that she wouldn’t be home for hours.

No answer.

I remained motionle
ss for the next five minutes, my heart thudding against my chest. I thought of the creature chasing me in the woods, contemplating the likelihood of it being able to sneak into the bathroom and draw on the mirror while I slept in the bathtub.

The more I thought abo
ut it, the more it seemed plausible that Liz had drawn on the mirror. It was, after all, a
smiley face
, and not some threat to strangle me in my sleep. Skin oils could stay on glass for days; it was a well-known fact! For all I knew, Liz could have drawn it last week and I was just now noticing it.

Yes. That was it. Liz would totally do something like that, too. She was always leaving funny notes for me
, and sending joke texts with photos of animals dressed up in weird Halloween costumes.

Profoundly relieved,
I went into my bedroom to return Michael’s call.

I
looked at the missed calls log on my phone and suffered a bout of irritation. Mathew had called six more times while I was on my run. Six!

At least I was no longer
scared. Now I was pissed. The last thing I needed was for my despicable ex to come sniffing around, screwing up my (vaguely) happy life once again.

I didn’
t even bother to listen to his messages. I hit
delete
the very instant he began speaking. I’d had just about enough of him.

Feeling an aw
ful pit in my stomach, I dialed the number Michael had left earlier. The thought of having to deal with another scathing exchange with Marlena made me feel queasy; I would have rather encountered the rattlesnake again.

The line rang so many times that I didn’t think Michael was going to answer, but he finally picked up on the fifth ring.

“Hello?” he chimed.

“
Hi Michael,” I said as pleasantly as possible. “I’m just returning your
call.”

“Oscar!” he bellowed. “How
in the hell have you been?”

“Michael, it’s Mercy,” I clarified.

“I was just thinking about you, old buddy,” he prattled on. He sounded like he was opening and closing doors. “I have not seen you since Lincoln was president. How are you these days?”

“Uh, it’s
Mercy
,” I repeated.

“Uh-huh,” he muttered. “I will
definitely have to head over to Barcelona to see it for myself.” Another door opened and then closed.

“Michael, I-”

“I do not have long to talk, so listen up, girl!” he hissed quietly. “I have got to tell you a few things before the wife comes and checks on me.”

“Oh, okay…”

“First of all, I want to tell you how sorry I am about Marlena’s earlier behavior. She was totally out of line. But when she gets angry like that, it is just best to let her have her rant. You simply cannot argue with the woman,” he muttered exasperatedly.

“No problem. Marlena was right, though,” I said dutifully. “She
did
tell me the rules when I accepted the job.”

“Hogwash!
She was rude to you and you know it!”

“Okay.” I didn’t
venture to say more. The man was married to the woman, after all. That was dangerous territory I did not want to enter.

“Listen,” he
whispered furiously. “As you know, Marlena and I do not agree on a few policies. I see no good reason to turn away clients if they are not causing any harm to my chaperones. The short of it is that Robert has called and booked more dates with you.”

My entire bod
y tingled. “He did?” I squeaked. I cleared my throat. “He did?” I asked casually.

“Yes!
Three of them.” He sighed. “I hate lying to my wife, Mercy. I really do. But at the end of the day, I am a businessman…”

His voice trailed off, and
then he said something muffled. Marlena had sniffed him out. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like being married to a person that I had to hide from in order to make cloak-and-dagger phone calls on behalf of my own business.

“Sorry,” he apologized.
“I must hang up soon. Anyway, I have approved the outings with Robert, however, I have written his name down in the books under a pseudonym. If Marlena asks in the future, tell her that you have been chaperoning a man named Samuel Eggerty. You are scheduled to go out with- eh-hem-
Samuel
tomorrow night. I have given him your number so you two can sort out the details. The less I know, the better.”

“
Got it. Thanks, Michael,” I sang.

“Alright, old
buddy,” he said cheerfully. “We will definitely have to catch up soon. Give my love to Susana. Okay, Bye!”

And then he hung up.

I made sure that the phone was off on my end, and then I jumped up and down on my bed like a kid on Christmas, letting out a shriek. It was like winning the lottery; the gorgeous, smart, funny, sexy
vampire
lottery!

I was still
bouncing around on my bed when my phone rang.

Mathew!

Again.

Enough was enough.

I hit answer. “What?” I snapped. “Or rather, what
is it,
Mathew, that is so important that you’ve needed to call me five million times within the last twenty four hours?’”

He was sobbing.

“Hello?” I spat coldly.
“Are you still there?”

“I miss you, Mercy!” he wailed. “I miss you so much!”

I was not moved by his sniveling. If anything, it only annoyed me further. “Why are you calling? I mean, what is it that you
actually
need?” I sighed scornfully for his benefit. “I
really
don’t have time for this. So if you could just get to the point…”

“I need
to talk to you, baby!”

“Ha! That’s rich!” I snorted.
I despised taking his bait, but I just couldn’t help myself. He infuriated me down to the bone marrow. “That’s hilarious, Mathew. Because when
I
needed to talk to
you
months ago, you couldn’t be bothered to return any of my calls.”

“I know! And I was such an idiot back then. I’v
e see the light, Mercy. I messed up bad!”

I took a deep breath and rubbed my temples.
“The only thing you’ve
seen
, Mathew, is a newspaper with a photo of me with another man.  Now you’re jealous and-
what
- you expect for me just to come crawling back to you?”

“But I need you!” he
howled.

“What you need, Mathew,” I said calmly, “is to
get a
fucking life
.”

I
hung up on him, then, feeling my blood boil for the second time that day. So much for my relaxing bath.

Two
seconds later, my phone rang.

“What?” I yelled into the receiver. “Seriously, this is getting beyond pathetic. What are you doing, trying to trick me by calling from another number?” I sneered. “Wow! You
really
fooled me!”

“Mercy?” asked a sexy
voice.

Oh
, no!

“Robert?” I asked,
cringing. I smacked myself on the forehead.

“Yes,” he said steadily. “Is everything all right?”

I laughed nervously. Damn Mathew and his stupid path of destruction. Sucked in once again!

“Oh yes. I’m great.”
I laughed once more. “Stupid telemarketers.”

I felt bad for deceiving Robert, but
I figured that it was less train wreck than saying, “No, I’m actually not okay, Robert. My cheating ex, Mathew, who I discovered screwing some skank in the bed we once shared, has been calling me nonstop since seeing the photo of the two of us. Oh, did I also mention that after we broke up, I found out that Mathew had been cheating on me pretty much from the first day we moved in together? Oh, yes, and one of his many mistresses even called me one day looking for him because she thought she might be pregnant with his baby. You think that it would have made me feel better knowing that I wasn’t the only woman Mathew skipped out on, but it actually made me realize that I’d been an even bigger fool than I’d believed.” 

I thought
that it would be best to leave out the Jerry Springer details of my previous relationship. Besides, I seriously doubted that a debonair man like Robert would have any similar experiences of his own to impart.

“You seem very angry,” he mu
sed. He sounded like he was smiling.

“Oh, you know,” I said flippantly. “They keep calling me
. They just don’t know when to give up.” Just like Mathew.

“I
see
.” He didn’t sound convinced.

“So, I spoke to Michael,” I said, changing topics. “He said that you booked me for three
whole dates?”

“Yes. The first one is scheduled for tonight.
If you are free?”

“Yes. I’m free.” As is I’d
ever
turn the man down. I looked at the clock; not much time to get ready.

“Excellent. You do not need to worry about dressing up,” he said, easing my worries. “I am taking you to the theatre. It is a playhouse run by vampires, so I thought perhaps you would find it interesting.”

“Wow!
Really? That sounds amazing, Robert!”

“Yes. We are watching a show that is a
satire of sorts. It’s called
Interview with the Human.
”

I laughed. “Cool. I can’t wait.”

“Shall I pick you up around ten?”

“Sure,” I said, and provided him with my address.
“So,” I ventured shyly, “I’m curious. Why did you book so many dates with me?”

“Well, if am to be perfectly c
andid, I must admit that my reasons are very selfish.”

“
They are?”

“Yes. I want to k
eep you to myself,” he said impishly. “I simply cannot get you out of my head, Mercy. But I am aware of the policy Dignitary has against dating chaperones. Well, I should say that I am now that Marlena has called.”