Vampire Shift (Kiera Hudson Series One #1)

Vampire Shift (Kiera Hudson Series One #1) Page 16

With the Crescent Moon Inn within sight, I ran as fast as I could towards it. It had taken me over an hour to walk from the police station and every minute had seemed like an eternity. It hadn't just been the freezing snow that had made my journey so miserable; it had been the constant fear that at any moment, I would be rushed at by screaming vampires or snatched into the air by flying Vampyrus. With Luke banished to The Hollows, I felt exposed and unprotected. I wondered now if he could be trusted, and although I'd refused to dwell earlier on Potter's comments about Luke's guilt, I now feared what he might have to feel guilty about.

Ever since overhearing Rom mention my mother, I knew that whatever had happened to her, the Vampyrus had been involved and I feared that Luke had played a part in that.

Reaching the Inn, I pushed open the door and stepped inside. The bar area had the usual number of locals clustered around the tables, warming themselves by the fire, cradling a neat whiskey in their hands. Again, they all looked up at me and the room fell into a hushed silence. I felt like screaming at them, WHAT ARE YOU ALL LOOKING AT? but I didn't. I skulked across the bar with my head down, just wanting to get tonight over with. As I reached the foot of the staircase leading up to the bedrooms, Roland appeared in the doorway of the small back office. I jumped, his sudden presence making me gasp. He looked at me, his jowls glowing red, as he wiped his meaty hands against his stained apron.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to alarm you," he blushed.

"It's okay," I said, forcing a smile.

"Well if you are sure..."

"I'm sure," I told him, just wanting to get to my room.

"It's just that you look washed-out - ill," he said.

"It's been one of those days. " I knew he was only trying to be nice, but I wasn't in the mood for him.

"Perhaps, I could fix you up with something to eat?" he smiled. "A sandwich, perhaps?"

"I thought your mother was strict about eating times?" I said, unzipping my coat. It had been freezing outside, but with the heat from the roaring fire coming from the bar, the Inn felt hot and oppressive.

"Don't take any notice of mother," he smiled. And then leaning in towards me, he whispered, "She has her odd little ways."

I hadn't been so close to Roland before, and as he stepped forward, I could see beads of sweat lining his brow and glistening on his upper lip. His eyes looked puffy and his lips tinged blue. Seeing that his circulation was obviously bad, I guessed that he would be dead of a heart attack by the time he was fifty. It was hard to tell how old he was as his plumpness consumed any wrinkles or lines that his face might have. His dark, wavy hair was messy and dirty, combed back, and greasy-looking. His chubby hands were flecked with blood from where he had been preparing raw meat in the kitchen. His breath smelt bad and the thought of him preparing any food for me made me feel repulsed.

Inching my way up the stairs, I looked back at him and said, "It's really sweet of you to offer Roland, but I just want to get some sleep."

"If you're sure, young lady," he called after me. "I really don't mind."

"Thank you," I called back over my shoulder, "but I'm sure. Goodnight, Roland."

Closing my bedroom door behind me, I threw off my coat, and taking the map and the list of the dates and locations of the murders, I sat on the floor. Spreading the map before me, I took a pen and made a mark on the map, highlighting where the murders furthest apart had taken place. I'd often heard my father talk about studies he had read into the murders committed by serial killers. There were several theories stating that most serial killers committed their murders close to their home address. It often took less effort on the part of the killer if they committed their crimes close to home, and they liked to be a minimum distance away from their home so they could return there quickly once the crime had been committed. I heard dad say once that if you took the two furthest locations of the killers crimes, marked them on a map and drew a circle around them, somewhere in that ring you would have your killer.

So with my pen, I drew a large circle on the map. But I knew that I wasn't dealing with just one killer, I was dealing with several - possibly more. But I had a theory of my own. Luke had told me that when the hunger was upon them, it was like a burning sensation in their very souls, which couldn't be satisfied unless they gave into it or returned back to The Hollows and waited for it to subside. They were like drug addicts or those that were starving. And in either case, would an addict walk miles for a fix if they knew they could get one close by? Would someone who was starving walk past several restaurants, or go and eat at the first one they came across? The same rules applied to the Vampyrus and the vampires. When they woke and their craving was at its height, they would kill and eat from the first available source of food they came across.

So taking my list, I marked on the map every location and the date that a victim had been found. Once I'd finished, I sat back and looked at the map. In the centre of the map, there was a cluster of tiny crosses. These marked the killings furthest back in time. Then as I reached the most recent murders, the crosses spread further out over the map until they touched the edge of the circle that I'd made.

But why would the killings be taking place further and further away from the centre of the ring, I wondered. Then thinking of the little old woman downstairs and her bottles of holy water, crucifixes, and decorations made of garlic, I realised why the murders had been moving further out of town. As the news of the body count had grown, and with it the rumours of vampires, the residents of The Ragged Cove had taken precautions by stocking up on holy water, crucifixes, and decorating their homes with cloves of garlic. So as more and more of the terrified villagers had done this, the further away the Vampyrus and vampires had to go to find victims and sedate their hunger. Thinking of how I'd been attacked on the town's border, it suggested to me that my hypothesis was right. How many homes would those vampires had to have passed, all of them filled with humans and their delicious blood, before they came across me? There would have been hundreds, but each night they had been pushed further and further afield in search of food. But as they did, they were spreading their net beyond the reaches of The Ragged Cove, and with every killing another vampire was born.

Realising that time was running out if I were to...to do what exactly? I didn't know. But to know the location of their lair would be a start. So looking back at the map, I stuck the tip of my pen in the centre of the group of concentrated crosses. Pulling it away again, I looked at the mark it had made on the top of St. Mary's Church. Reeling in shock and disbelief, I slumped backwards onto my butt and stared down at the map. Before I'd had time to fully comprehend what I'd discovered, I noticed a shadow beneath my bedroom door as if someone were standing outside it. Believing Roland had ignored my refusals to take up his offer of something to eat, I got up and went to the door.

Yanking it open, I said, "Look Roland, it really is very sweet of you but -" Before I'd had a chance to finish, I realised that it wasn't the Innkeeper standing outside my room, but the hooded man who had been leaving me the envelopes and crucifixes.

We both gasped at the same time, me in shock and him as if he really didn't want to get caught. Sensing this, I grabbed for him, desperate to know who had been following me since my arrival at The Ragged Cove. He jumped back away from me, but he wasn't quick enough and I had hold of his hoodie. He pushed me in the chest, and I fell backwards into my room, crashing to the floor and taking him with me. Rolling onto my back, I watched him get up and bolt for the door. Reaching out with both arms, I wrapped them around his legs. Toppling over like a stack of children's bricks, he slammed into the floor again. Kneeling on his chest, pinning him down, I pulled back the hood. Recognising the face that stared back at me, I jumped back and gasped, "What are you doing here?"