The Slayer Chronicles: First Kill (28 page)

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Authors: Heather Brewer

BOOK: The Slayer Chronicles: First Kill
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At this, Joss felt his mouth open and words escape, though he wasn’t certain why. He wasn’t sure if he meant them, wasn’t certain whether he intended to follow through at all, but he spoke, and D’Ablo smiled. Before Joss realized it, he extended his arm, shaking D’Ablo’s hand. “Mister ... you’ve got a deal.”
30
 
A SLAYER’S GIFT
 
Joss tucked the last T-shirt into his already-full suitcase and zipped it closed. He’d been doing his best to keep a guilt-ridden expression on his face all week since he’d been back at home with his mom and dad. Abraham had written them a long letter explaining that Joss had been fighting with the neighbor boys all summer and needed some good old-fashioned discipline to teach him a lesson. Abraham recommended that perhaps some time away would help and had arranged for Joss to spend the next school year with his cousin Henry, in Bathory. Of course, Abraham and the rest of the Slayers thought he’d chosen that town simply because it was close to family, and he was interested in doing some reconnaissance. Little did they know that Joss was on his first actual solo hunt. For the vampire called the Pravus.
It had disturbed him how readily his parents had agreed to send him away for nine months, but he couldn’t say it surprised him. Joss was a reminder of his sister, and neither of them could bear the thought of Cecile. Besides, it would be easier to ignore even the invisible boy if he wasn’t around.
From his front pocket, Joss withdrew the pocket watch that had once belonged to his grandfather. He pushed the button on the top and the tiny door swung open, revealing the picture of Cecile that he’d placed inside. He’d carry her image with him always, the way he carried her memory inside his thoughts, inside his heart. Then, snapping it closed again, he returned the watch to his pocket and lifted his suitcase, carrying it down the stairs. Outside, the taxicab honked its horn. Joss opened the door.
A man was standing on the front porch, wearing a pleasant smile, but he wasn’t the cabbie. The cabbie was still sitting in the drivers’ seat, looking impatiently at his watch. Strangely, the man on the porch looked familiar to Joss, but even with some thought, Joss couldn’t place him. The man’s copper hair shined in the sun. Under his arm, he carried a small wooden box. “Joss.”
The man nodded his greeting, as if they had met and spoken many times before. Joss was embarrassed to admit that he couldn’t recall those meetings, so he simply smiled. “Yes? Can I help you?”
A sad shadow passed briefly over the man’s bright eyes. “I’m afraid not. No one can.”
Immediately, Joss had the undeniable urge to help the stranger in whatever way he could, but he wasn’t certain how to convey that without sounding like a psycho.
Then the man’s eyes brightened again, as if a breeze had carried the troubled clouds away. “I brought you something. Something from the Society. May I come inside?”
It might have been an odd thing to trust someone you cannot recall having met, but Joss opened the door and gestured for the man to come inside. Anything from the Society was welcome, of course. But as the man passed through the doorway, Joss withdrew his Slayer coin from inside his jeans pocket and held it out in his palm for the man to see.
The man’s eyes lit up and he patted his shirt and pants pockets with his free hand before casting Joss an apologetic glance. “My apologies. I’m afraid I’ve misplaced mine. I do have one, though. I keep it for just such occasions as these.”
Joss frowned, but nodded and put his coin away. It was a believable excuse. Coins are small and easy to lose. Besides, the man knew about the Society. He had to be a fellow Slayer. When the man entered, he crossed the house to the den, as if he’d been here many times. Once Joss had entered the room, the man closed the French doors so that they’d have some privacy in his gift giving. Then he set the wooden box upon Joss’s father’s desk and smiled proudly at Joss. “For you, Joss McMillan. It’s been a long time coming.”
Joss hesitated before crossing the room to the desk, though he wasn’t certain why. When he reached it, he opened the lid of the box and gasped aloud. The inside was lined completely in velvet, and though the box and its contents were clearly very old, they were in impeccable shape. In dedicated sections, Joss found a cross, hammer, various small bottles, and at last, the most beautiful wooden stake that he had ever seen. As his fingers danced lightly over the wood, he swore that the man who’d gifted him with the artifacts shivered, but couldn’t be sure. “This is ... wonderful. Thank you.”
“It belonged to your great-great-great grandfather, Professor Ernst Blomberg.” The man smiled proudly. “I brought it from London. It seems Headquarters overlooked giving it to you after your indoctrination.”
Joss didn’t know what to say, so he repeated himself, hoping that better words would come to him in a moment. “Thank you.”
The stranger extended a hand then, shaking Joss’s hand warmly. He smiled, his eyes so full of kindness that it almost hurt to see it. “The pleasure is all mine.”
“But . . .” Joss looked from the stake back to the stranger. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to get a stake until after I made my first solo kill.”
The man’s smile didn’t even wane. “Let’s just say an exception has been made, shall we?”
Nodding, not really understanding why an exception would be made in his case, Joss plucked the only empty bottle from the case and held it up. The worn label on the side read “Holy Water.” Joss furrowed his brow. “What happened to the holy water?”
The man opened the French doors and shrugged back at Joss. “I’m afraid I got a bit thirsty on the way over.”
As the man was leaving, it seemed in a hurry, Joss gathered up the box and its contents, and went after him in quick steps. He breathlessly caught the man just as he was stepping off the front porch. “Wait! You never told me your name.”
At that, the man turned back to him, his smile friendly, the sun gleaming down on him from a crystalline sky, and said, “My name is Dorian.”
Behind him, Joss heard his mom calling his name. “Joss, that cab is going to leave without you. Do you have everything you need?”
Joss looked back at her and nodded. When he turned to Dorian, his mysterious gift bringer was nowhere to be found. But something told him he’d see Dorian again. And soon.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
 
HEATHER BREWER was not your typical teen growing up, and she’s certainly not your typical adult now. She collects antique medical instruments, thinks creepy dolls are things of beauty, and is convinced that Japan is probably the most beautiful country on Earth, even though she’s never been there. Heather believes that there are two sides to every story, and that one can’t judge a book by its cover—in fact, that’s why she decided to write this series. And, of course, she doesn’t believe in happy endings ... unless they involve blood. Heather lives in Missouri with her husband and two children. Visit her online at
www.heatherbrewer.com
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