Obsessed (Book #12 in the Vampire Journals) (13 page)

“I’ll go,”
Vivian said. “Me and, um, Rose, don’t see eye to eye.”

Sam frowned.

“Rose? Don’t you
mean…”

He paused, and
Vivian noted in a split second the changes in his facial expression that
alerted her to the fact that she’d been outed. Sam froze, his suspicious gaze
locked on Vivian.

Ruth began
barking feverishly.

There was a
second where everything seemed to stand still, then, all at once, Vivian moved,
quick as a flash, leaping into the air to keep the distance between her and the
snapping jaws of the canine. She kicked off the kitchen wall and slammed her
foot into the side of Sam’s head. He fell, unconscious, in a heap on the floor.

Ruth, now loose,
charged.

Vivian landed on
the kitchen table with such a force it cracked beneath her. She leapt, soaring
over the dog’s head, and catapulted through the corridor. She burst out into the
street, splintering the door as she went. The dog chased after her and then
stood in the street, yapping, watching as she zoomed up into the sky.

The howling dog
grew smaller and smaller as Vivian soared higher into the air. As she did, she
felt a sense of triumph. She knew where to find Scarlet. She would be with
Becca, Jasmine, or Maria. She smiled to herself. Before the night was over,
Scarlet Paine would be dead.

Sam felt
something rough, warm, and wet against his cheek. He groaned. There was a
splitting pain in his head. His eyes fluttered open and he realized he was
staring up at Ruth. She barked, making him wince.

He pulled
himself to sitting.

“Okay, girl,” he
said to the husky, who was licking his face all over. “I’m awake.”

He pushed her
down and looked around. He was alarmed to find himself in Caitlin’s dark
kitchen, on the floor.

Memories came
back to him in fragments…. There had been a girl, worried about Scarlet. But
what had happened next? He couldn’t quite remember. He must have fallen or
blacked out or something.

The pain in
Sam’s head was unbearable. He finally got to his feet and poured himself a
glass of water. Ruth fussed round his legs, almost tripping him over.

“Will you give
it a rest?” he said to the dog.

He patted her
thick fur and took a deep sip from the glass. Then his memory flooded back to
him, so quickly and with such clarity he dropped the glass. It smashed in the
sink, sending glittering shards into the air.

“She was a
vampire,” Sam said aloud, grabbing the side of the sink to steady himself.

But if the girl
was a vampire, that meant it was spreading. Scarlet had turned a man and either
he had continued and turned another, or Scarlet had continued. The thought was
too much for Sam to bear.

He staggered
back, his head swimming, and grabbed the phone from the wall. He punched in
Polly’s number and slumped his back against the wall as he listened to the ring
on the other end.

Finally, she
answered.

“Polly,” he
said, hurriedly. “Something’s happened. Something awful.”

“What?” Polly
said on the other end, a tone of concern in her voice. “Is it Scarlet? Did she
come home?”

Sam tightened
his grip on the receiver. He felt too ashamed to speak but knew he had to.
Scarlet was in danger because of him and he had to make it right.

“There was a
girl,” he said, quietly, calmly. “She came to the house looking for Scarlet.
She said her name was Becca. I thought she was her friend.”

“Okay…” Polly
said disconcertedly, as though she knew there was a “but” coming.

Sam sighed
heavily. He couldn’t put it off any longer.

“She was a
vampire,” he said in one large exhalation.

He listened to
the sound of Polly gasping on the other end of the line. She started speaking
quickly, the words pouring out of her in a great gush.

“Are you okay? What
happened? Did she hurt you? Did she get inside the house?”

Sam squeezed his
eyes shut and pressed his forehead against the cold kitchen wall. He had to
come clean. Polly needed to know he’d put Scarlet’s life in danger.

“I’m not hurt,”
he said, trying to reassure his wife. “She kicked me in the head and knocked me
out but she didn’t bite me or anything like that.”

He touched his
neck as though to check for himself whether that were true. He was relieved to
discover no puncture wounds.

“Good,” Polly
said. “Is the house secure? Have you made sure she can’t get back in?”

“She’s looking
for Scarlet,” Sam said, interrupting his wife’s barrage of questions. “And I
think I accidentally might have given her a clue as to where she is.”

Polly’s stream
of words stopped suddenly. There was a long pause, during which Sam felt his
self-esteem plummet.

“What did you
say?” Polly said sternly.

Sam sighed,
trying to collect his thoughts.

“I thought she
was one of Scarlet’s friends. She said her name was Becca. She didn’t… look
like a vampire.” His voice grew more timid as he realized how stupid it sounded
when he said it aloud.

“Of course she
didn’t look like a vampire!” Polly cried. “I can’t believe this.”

Sam could
practically hear her pacing on the other end of the phone. He could imagine her
in their living room pulling her hair out because her dimwitted husband had
failed in the one thing he was tasked to do—protect Scarlet.

When she spoke
again, it was with a forced calmness.

“I’ll go to the
high school,” she said. “Pretend I’m a worried parent and see if I can get
phone numbers or addresses for Scarlet’s friends.”

“No,” Sam said
instantly. “It’s too dangerous. There are at least two vampires on the prowl
now and my bet is it won’t be long until there are more.”

“What do you
suggest?” Polly replied curtly.

In Sam’s mental
image of her, she had her hands squarely on her hips.

“I’ll go,” he
said. “I got us into this mess, I should be the one to get us out.”

“No way,” Polly
argued. “You have to stay there in case Scarlet comes home. And what if the
police see you—you’re still a wanted man, you know, after you and Caleb ran
around with your guns out!”

Sam tried to
interrupt, but Polly wasn’t letting him. She just raised her voice to be heard
over him.

“And,” she
bellowed, “you’ve just been knocked out by a vampire! How far do you think
you’ll be able to get with a concussion?”

“I don’t have a
concussion,” Sam protested.

“How would you
even know?” snapped Polly.

Sam could hear
her angry breathing down the phone. He felt terrible for having made her so
annoyed, but moreover, he felt terrible for having put Scarlet in danger.

When Polly spoke
again, she was considerably calmer.

“Will you please
just stay safe and keep your eyes open for Scarlet like you’re meant to?” she
said. “And let me handle getting those girls’ addresses. Okay?”

Sam shook his
head but he agreed with a sigh and hung up the phone. His conversation with
Polly had made his head pound even harder, so he went off in search of aspirin.
Ruth trotted up the stairs after him.

Sam found what
he needed in the bathroom cabinet and swallowed two pills with water. In his
reflection in the mirror he noted a large red welt on the side of his face. It
was the perfect imprint of a shoe.

“That’s going to
be a lovely bruise,” he said, wincing as he prodded the red flesh.

He stared into
the reflection of his tired eyes. The events of the last few days had exhausted
him. All he wanted was for Scarlet to be safe, for his sister to have her
daughter back, and for everything to go back to normal. But there was no chance
of that. Scarlet was a vampire and Caitlin was off on some crusade to save her
soul. Vampires were prowling the streets. He was a wanted man. Nothing would
ever be simple again.

Sam trudged back
downstairs and took up his position by the back door with his rifle. Ruth sat
on guard beside him, gazing out across the dark, dewy lawn.

Sam tried to
focus, but his mind was frantic with worry. His sister and brother-in-law were
out there searching for Scarlet, and his wife was heading toward danger. Was he
really going to just sit here waiting?

With a sudden
surge of resolve, Sam stood. Ruth tipped her eyes up to him, her eyebrows
drawing together in a quizzical expression.

“You can keep an
eye on the place, can’t you?” Sam said to the dog.

She barked.

Sam grabbed the
notebook by the phone and scrawled Scarlet a message, pleading with her that if
she came home to stay put. Then he grabbed his car keys and rushed to the door.

Ruth was hot on
his heels, barking her annoyance.

“I know,” he
said as he stopped at the open front door. “But I can’t let Polly be alone out
there!”

Ruth barked
again.

Sam sighed. The
door had been damaged by the vampire girl but he was able to shut it securely,
keeping Ruth inside. He felt a sting of guilt as he raced toward his car,
hopped in, and revved the engine.

He drove as fast
as he dared to the high school. He still felt woozy from the kick to his head
and didn’t want to put himself into any more danger by driving recklessly, but
at the same time he wanted to get to Polly as quickly as possible.

All at once, a
group of people appeared in the road ahead. Sam slammed on the brakes and his
car skidded to a halt.

In the headlights,
Sam made out the back of a varsity jacket, worn by a dark-haired boy who was facing
away. There were others kids with him. High schoolers, Sam thought. They were
standing in a group in the middle of the road, as though without a care in the
world.

Sam blasted his
horn.

“Get out the
way!” he cried.

The boy in the
varsity jacket turned slowly, as though he’d hardly even noticed his life was a
split second away from ending. When Sam locked eyes with him he shuddered.

The boy was a
vampire. There was no doubting it. From the paleness of his skin to the evil
glint in his eye and his penetrating stare.

It’s spreading
, Sam realized,
feeling coldness wash over him.

He slammed the
car into reverse, accelerating so fast the wheels screeched. He swerved round
the group who watched him go with dead-eyed stares and menacing smiles, and
raced down the road. He didn’t care about his dizziness anymore—all he cared
about was getting away as quickly as possible.

He raced round a
corner, his gaze constantly flicking to the rearview mirror as though expecting
a group of vampire high schoolers to appear behind him. Then all at once he
heard the wail of police sirens and saw flashing blue lights.

“Oh no,” he said
aloud. 

He was so close
to the high school it was painful. He couldn’t stop now.

He slammed down
on the gas and accelerated down the road. But the police weren’t letting him
get away. They sped up beside him.

Just as the high
school came into view, the police car swerved and blocked Sam’s path. He was
left with no choice but to slam on the brakes. The car screeched to a halt,
flinging Sam forward against his seat belt, then throwing him back again with a
thud.

Rubbing his
whiplashed neck, Sam saw a police officer leap out of the squad car ahead and
raise his gun.

“Get out the
car!” he shouted, approaching as though Sam were a dangerous criminal. “Hands
on your head where I can see them!”

Sam groaned
aloud. He was in pain and beyond frustrated. He opened the car door and
stumbled out, pulling his hands into a truce position.

“You guys have
no idea what’s going on,” Sam protested as the police officer raced over and
bent Sam forward over the hood of the car.

The police
officer began frisking him, searching for a weapon. Satisfied he didn’t have
one, he allowed Sam to stand and turn around.

“Do you know why
I pulled you over, sir?” the police officer said in a harsh, military-sounding
voice.

“Dangerous
driving?” Sam offered.

“Correct. Five
points,” the police officer said with a sarcastic smile. “So what were you
doing speeding up like that? Never been pulled over by a cop before?”

Sam shook his
head in exasperation.

“I have
somewhere I need to be. Now.”

“Lemme guess,
the wife’s in labor? Your pop’s in the hospital? Whatever excuse you’ve got,
I’ve heard it before.”

“You don’t
understand,” Sam began, but he shut up when the police officer glared at him.

“Do you think
this is funny, sir?” the police officer snapped.

Sam shook his
head.

“No,” he said.
“If anything it’s tragic. You’re wasting your time on me when there’s a whole
gang of kids just round the corner who are about to wreak havoc.”

The police
officer’s frown grew stronger.

“You have
information on a crime that’s about to be committed? Because if you do I could
have you arrested for aiding and abetting.”

“No, no,” Sam
said. “That’s not what I meant.”

His head began
to pound again, made worse by the violent braking in the car. And now his
painkillers had kicked in.

“I mean,” Sam
began, but his voice was woozy.

“Have you been
drinking, sir?” the police officer demanded.

“No, I—”

The police
officer cut Sam off with a stern hand. He spoke into his walkie-talkie, asking
someone in the station to check Sam’s number plate for him. Sam could hear the
crackle of a response but couldn’t make out the words. But by the look on the
officer’s face, whatever information he’d just been given was not good.

“Turn around!”
the police officer shouted. “Hands on the hood!”

“Not this
again,” Sam grumbled.

The officer drew
his gun.

“Turn around
before I shoot!” he screamed.

Sam did what he
was told. The officer approached from behind and cuffed him.