No-Life Kid 17

The white lines of the interstate blurred as they raced past, devolving into a single strobing ribbon under the BMW’s wheels. 

The speedometer remained constantly on the verge of threatening triple digits, the driver too casual for a speed that she wouldn’t survive. One hand rested on the leather-wrapped wheel, the other tapping a beat against her thigh as a scorched wasteland of red rock and scrub baked under the aggressive sun just outside the tinted windows.

“Sparkly cunts drive like my dead gran.” Too-bright green eyes glared through the windshield at the red taillights of the silver Volvo spearheading the two-car convoy on a direct path from Forks, the woman chewing the syllables like tough meat. “Could put this Beamer up their tailpipe and they wouldn’t even blink. Want me to pass ‘em, Master?”

Head resting against the cool window, Zander simply sighed. “No.”

“If you say so, Master.” She clicked her tongue anyway. “Embarrassing, is what it is.”

“We’re doing an escort. You don’t outrun the VIP.” Zander barely raised his voice from the backseat, well aware she’d hear him if he even tried to whisper anyway. Eyes slouched like his shoulders, he settled lower and lower into the butter-soft leather, long legs stretched out as he watched the desert bleed past them. “Besides, Eddy Sparkles is trying not to draw cop attention with a teenage girl in the trunk.”

“She’s in the backseat, Master.”

“Figure of speech.”

Twenty-seven was an interesting number.

Dollars? Not much.

Hours of driving? Now, that was a whole different story. Twenty-seven hours at a pace that wouldn’t attract police meant a thousand and a half miles of near-nonstopn driving. Apart from a few stops for food and bathroom breaks for the sole standard human among them, they’d gone flat-out across the interstate the whole way.

While he’d taken Alexis with him, Zander had made sure to leave the old man behind to watch the homefront, figuring the old man’s sniper rifle was better with a vantage point atop the Weatherell House. 

All the bases were covered, and everything was clean. But despite all of that, the whole drive down, something had kept on tickling at the back of Zander’s brain.

This is too familiar.

He might not have remembered it perfectly, but it was still too much like the story he remembered, something Zander had read in a paperback book a lifetime before he’d ever tasted blood.

Familiar meant no surprises. Which should be a good thing.

Right?

It meant everything was going exactly according to plan. He knew the playbook, the moves, and all the plays before they were made. And eventually, the credits would roll and he’d have a stomachfull of sweet acidic venom.

It was all playing out beat for beat.

Which was exactly what made it so goddamn weird.

I shot the guy with a hand-cannon. Zander’s thumb ran over his jeans, finding a seam in the denim and working at it slowly. Cracked the fuck out of his shoulder, even. So why… why didn’t he make a move on me?

“Take the next exit.” He didn’t raise his voice, too caught in his own thoughts. “They’re pulling over.”

Zander wanted to say that the guy was just being careful but that just didn’t sit right either. If there was one thing he remembered about these vampires, they had oversized egos and shitty preservation instincts. 

Which made sense, considering the whole immortal human-hunting demigod bit.

But that didn’t go against the point. No, it just meant it made even less sense.

Fangs pressed against flesh, Zander chewing on the inside of his cheek as he kept thinking even as the car slowed to a final stop. Maybe I’m being paranoid but…. 

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

“…something about this feels wrong, Walter.”

Zander didn’t like to think that he’d become spoiled in only a year of fine living, but he was beginning to consider that a losing battle. 

Either that, or three stars for a hotel didn’t mean much anymore. 

He stood by the heavy blackout curtains of the Phoenix hotel room, peering through a crack at the oppressive Arizona sun cooking the asphalt outside. SPF 150 was the minimum protection he needed to stand the fucking afternoon sun in this hellscape and it still didn’t help much underneath layers, sunglasses and the widest-brimmed hat he could find.

“Sir?” Walter’s voice came through the blue clamshell held to Zander’s ear, accent crisp as ever and entirely unaffected by thousand or so miles of terrible reception between them. Zander raised his head for a second, eyes tracking Alexis as she sat on the edge of one of the queen beds, the woman cleaning her nails with the sharp tip of a kukri she was determined to bring with her. 

“I mean, it’s working out exactly like…” Zander stopped himself as he caught his reflection in the glass, one hand running through his locs. How do you explain to your butler that you’ve literally seen this movie before? “Like a trap, Walter. It feels too easy.”

“Sir, far be it from me to doubt you,” Walter took a breath, “but might you be speaking from a place of privilege?”

“…what?”

“Well, as you’ve shared with me, Master Cray, your last vampire hunt was a bare-knuckle brawl in a bloody warehouse basement as it burnt down.”

Zander blinked. “…your point?”

“…none at all, sir.”

A sigh left him, blue eyes blinking past his teashades as he let the blackout blinds shut. “Look, I’m not saying you’re wrong or whatever, Walter. What I’m saying is…” Zander held his breath for a second, voice pitched under the rattling hum of the AC to keep the vampires from the suite next door from hearing. “I’m saying, he clocked me. But now he’s following the perfect predator playbook for hunting her. Forcing the run and even splitting the party, it’s…”

Zander shook his head. “It’s too perfect, Walter.”

“Perhaps his initial curiosity was simply that, Master. A brief distraction before returning to his purpose, after all.”

“…maybe.” Zander clicked his tongue. 

But that maybe stayed strong because Zander knew how this story was supposed to go. “Keep the perimeter tight, old man. Don’t trust the quiet.”

“The Weatherell House is secure, sir.”

“Good.” The phone snapped shut the same instant Zander heard footsteps heading his way. He turned around, just in time to see the door to the adjoining suite open up.

“You know, normally…” Zander clicked his tongue. “Normally, people knock.”

“I assumed you were decent.” Edward stepped in first, the vampire lovebird stiff like a coiled spring as he shot back at Zander. Jasper followed behind, a shadow crouched by the doorframe as he moved aside to allow Alice space to bounce in last, holding Bella by the hand.

The girl looked exhausted, somehow looking drained in the Arizona heat despite it being literally her home. Skin pale and waxy under fluorescence, Isabella sank into the armchair near the TV, knees pulled up high to her chest.

Dark eyes trailed past Zander and drifted over to the bed as they finally landed on Alexis.

“Y’alright, love? Need a water?” Alexis stared back, not bothering to put the knife away as she smiled bright and wide with teeth just on this side of human. “You look peaky.”

 “I guess… I’m okay. Thank you.” Bella blinked slow, Edward staring over her shoulder. “But… who are you?”

Alexis stopped twirling the knife, looking at Bella as if the girl was a particularly slow puppy. “I’m the bloody chef, hen.” 

“You don’t…” Bella frowned, brow furrowed as she dropped down to the knives strapped to the woman’s thighs. “You don’t really look like a chef.”

Blonde eyebrows went high. “And what’s a chef s’posed to look like?”

“That’s not what she’s askin’, ma’am,” All eyes turned over to Jasper, the Texan’s expression flat as he tilted his head. “She can tell you’re not… right. We all can.”

Zander rolled his eyes. Maybe I should have come alone. Keeping Walter and Alexis away from the vampires had always been a matter of if not when, but they were somehow so dramatic and not even on purpose.

“Right with the Lord, you mean?” Alexis grinned, joke rolling off smooth and thick like maple syrup. “Been a few years since my last Mass, will admit.”

“You’re holding yourself too still.” Jasper didn’t miss a beat as he kept going, eyes still locked on Alexis. “Heart… too slow. Blood in your veins too thick.”

“Jazz…” Zander took that moment to interject, four sets of eyes turning his way as Alexis glared at the old Confederate. “Is there a point somewhere at the end of this Bio class?”

The Texan narrowed his eyes, his wife’s eyes going wide right beside him. “She’s not exactly human, is she?”

Edward looked up, golden eyes firmly on Alexis as his jaw slackened just a bit. “She’s  a servant.”

Fuckin’ mindreaders. Zander clicked his tongue. “I prefer the term drudge, actually.”

“He made her…” Edward stared at his chef, disgust clear on the sparkler’s face as he enunciated all three syllables. “From a human.” His eyes whipped toward Zander, golden and wide. “You feed her your blood.”

Alexis’s grin vanished, a snarl leaving her as she took a half-step toward the vampire, knife gripped tight. “Get out of my fuckin’ head, you peeping tom prick, before I carv-”

“Lex.”

Alexis froze, boots locked to the floor.

Zander stepped in front of her, hands sliding into the pockets of his coat. He met Edward’s eyes over the rim of his blue teashades, the air filled with a sigh. “It’s rude to stick your hand in people’s heads, Eddy, ‘specially without asking. How ‘bout you keep your tricks to yourself?”

“How did you even…” Edward’s upper lip hitched, nearly snarling back at him. “What kind of creature are you?”

“She’s an employee…” Zander waved a hand in front of him. “With a benefits package and a great health plan. So, focus on your own problems, Sparkles. Like the tracker who wants to eat your girlfriend.”

Edward’s jaw snapped shut, all other words useless as he was forced to face the actual problem instead of just the elephant in the room. 

“So, you’re like a… a familiar?” Bella’s question to Alexis came with more of a real smile, Zander sighing as his chef humored the girl.

Another slow breath, unneeded and unnecessary, left his lips as he pulled his phone free again and leaned back against the wall. He flipped the clamshell open.

Six missed calls. Fourteen unread texts.

Three guesses from who, and the first two didn’t count. Zander’s thumbed down, scrolling through all the messages he had put off during the trip.

Hey so u just disappeared?? 

Mike said u left town. 

Wtf Zander. 

Call me back. 

Lauren is being a total bitch today btw. 

Seriously r u okay? 

Im actually getting worried. 

Call me!!!

The plastic edge of the phone dug into his palm, the material creaking just a bit under his too-tight grip. I should call her back. 

He was going to. Obviously.

…Eventually. 

Just… definitely after all this was over and done with. He’d have to come up with a better explanation than ‘family stuff’ for bailing on their plans, and right now, he didn’t have any that didn’t sound like complete bullshit. Hey Jess, sorry I ditched you, had to drive to Arizona to protect the new girl from a vampire you definitely don’t know. 

Yeah, something like that. Definitely gonna work.

The phone in his hand vibrated, the sudden buzz drawing his attention as the plastic rattled against his silver rings.

Zander flipped it open, bringing it to his ear the second he saw the caller ID. “Walter?”

“Sir.”

The word was singular and said nothing but the tone…

Zander’s spine straightened, because the tone said everything. 

“I surveilled the Stanley residence. Her father is still away on business so both parents’ vehicles are present in the driveway and lights remain on in the main living areas.”

“And?”

“Sir… I detected no scent or movement suggesting Miss Stanley is inside the house.”

Something flash-froze in the pit of Zander’s stomach, the plastic case creaking as he held it tighter against his face. “Any signs of struggle?”

“Negative, Master.” Walter’s response didn’t do a thing to melt it. “She simply is not there. Sir, I believe we may have made a serious miscalculation.”

Alice chose that second to gasp like she was drowning, the sound violent and sharp as she shot up from the sofa. “Oh God, he never wanted Bella. It wasn’t Bella.”

Edward and Jasper’s gaze snapped over to Alice immediately, Bella looking up almost a full second later with her mouth open. “What?” 

“He never wanted you, Bella.” Alice answered the question as she worked to get the words out of her mouth. “The tracker… he used the idea of going after Bella. To get you out. To get all of us out.”

She turned her head slowly, eyes directly on Zander. “He wanted us gone,” Alice choked out. “He’s going after Jessica.”

Zander’s hands clenched into fists, gloved hands loud in the absolute silence of the suite. The plastic shell of the Nokia phone creaked, groaned, and shattered into three distinct pieces, wires and battery spilling onto the cheap carpet.

Fuck.

Blue eyes landed on Alice. “How long?”

“I… I can’t see clearly,” Alice stammered, her fingers digging into her own scalp. “The visions are fragmentary, especially when you’re related to it. They keep shifting but… no… I think… I think he doesn’t have her yet. He’s waiting for you.”

Of course he is. He knew the guy wanted more than just a meal.

Edward looked between Zander and Alice. “But the danger to Bella i-“

“Is real,” Zander confirmed, not bothering to look at the mind-reader as he already started moving to the door. “He never lied about planning to eat her, Eddy.”

He shook his head.

“He just had other plans first.”