The Van Wilden Chronicles Box Set Books 1-3 Page 6
“Good, Gareth, if you’ll come with me.” Phyllis huffed off to her office. Gareth nodded at Morgana—a polite parting gesture—before following.
Morgana shook her head. So much for a boring day at the office.
***
“I’ll be in touch, Gareth.” Phyllis’ voice was soft as she showed Gareth out twenty minutes later.
“Thanks, Phyllis, for taking the time to consider me. I look forward to hearing from you.”
As he turned to leave the office, his eyes caught Morgana’s stare. It was starting to grate on her nerves—the long, hard stares. She just smiled back, reserved, but polite.
Phyllis walked over just as Morgana finished addressing the last envelope.
“All done, I see. Good. You can go post them now. Also, the Morgans want a lawn sign, so you’ll need to drop one off for them. Ha! The Morgans and Morgana, it’s like the same.” Phyllis laughed at her attempt to make a joke.
Morgana’s expression was stoic, though she was grateful for the excuse to follow Gareth. The Morgans lived on the same street, but to keep up the ruse, Morgana acted put-out, sighing behind Phyllis’ back as she turned away, knowing full well Phyllis would hear.
Right on cue, Phyllis gave Morgana her most toadlike look yet.
Morgana hid her smile.
Morgana glanced into her father’s office before she left to see if he was still talking to Randalf. He must have sensed her watching them because he looked up as Randalf turned to face her as well. He had a questioning look in his eyes. Morgana pointed her index and middle fingers at her eyes then toward the door. It was a quick motion—too quick for any human eyes to catch. Oscar nodded. Randalf bowed his head as well. Morgana didn’t need their approval to resume working on her mission, but she wanted to emphasize to let them know her head was in the game.
The sun was shining, resulting in a beautiful spring day. She decided to walk, swinging the lawn sign in her hand, the envelopes in the other. She took note of the fact she was carrying a squared wooden stake. This could come in handy if she came under attack.
Morgana dropped the stack of envelopes in a large blue outgoing mail receptacle on the corner, then took a back alley to the Morgan’splace so she could run. She arrived at the street within seconds, slowing her pace to a human stroll, humming as she went. The Morgan’s house was a prototypical Victorian with cream-colored brick and a dark, charcoal slate roof. Like everywhere else in town, the Morgan’s luscious green lawn was beautifully manicured. Morgana walked up to the charcoal front door and knocked. She listened—no televisions running, no laptops humming, no signs of life—no one seemed to be home. Morgana walked across the lawn and focused on choosing the most reasonable location for the sign. Just as she was about to push the sign into the soft soil, she felt Gareth’s presence again. He lived nearby, yes, but much further down the block. He must have overheard Phyllis’ orders and followed her here.
She glanced in his direction. He was leaning against a tree across the street watching her, partly hidden in shadow. She flashed a quick smile and flipped her long hair over her shoulder—no harm in flirting just a little. Then she made a show of struggling to push the small sign into the ground, though she could have easily pushed it into place with a single finger. Speaking of which, for public appearances’ sake, she should have brought along a rubber mallet. After fidgeting with the sign long enough to work up a small sheen of sweat on her brow, she glanced back across the street, but Gareth had slipped deeper into the shadows.
If she were human, she might have convinced herself she’d imagined seeing him at all, but she could still sense his presence. She smirked. She liked the idea of him watching her. Confidently, she gave her hips a gentle sway as she walked away.
Chapter Eight
Wednesday night had arrived. Now more than ever, Gareth wanted to know what the Van Wilden family was doing in town and what their connection was to the attacks. The other day at the campaign office, he’d met yet another vampire—Randalf something. The small, quiet town he and Alastor had peacefully lived in for so long was being overrun with vampires. He was not happy about it.
Gareth slouched in the green suede armchair in the living area of Ava’s apartment waiting for Morgana to arrive. The apartment was a one-bedroom place, painted a pastel, minty green with glossy white trim. The armchair was part of a sofa suite handed down to Ava by her grandmother. He chose the armchair because of its strategic position, giving him a clear view of the front door to test his theory.
Sure enough, there it was—the strange vampire presence again. It had to be her. He knew she was watching him, but why? Why was he being stalked by this strange girl?
The buzzer rang.
Ava moved from the kitchen adjoining the living area. The dining area was to the left, near the door.
“Hi, it’s Morgana.” Her soft voice spoke into the intercom.
Gareth leaned forward.
“Hi, Morgana, I’m pressing the button now.” Ava buzzed her in.
He nodded in approval. Ava hadn’t directly invited Morgana in. This would be their process of elimination. To figure out what she was. A vampire wasn’t allowed to cross the threshold of a human’s home. Not without their invitation. The common areas of an apartment building were gray areas though. Therefore, vampires could enter the buildings. Just not the individual apartments.
There was a knock on the door.
Ava opened the door. “Hello, Morgana,” Ava said warmly, stepping aside.
Morgana hesitated and then stepped over the threshold.
Gareth couldn’t help gawking when she removed her coat. Morgana was dressed simply in tight jeans and a form-fitting aqua woolen sweater, but the outfit accentuated her curves in a very complimentary way. Her long, dark hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders.
Gareth grit his teeth. He needed to concentrate. He couldn’t let these new growing feelings for Morgana—whatever they were—cloud his judgment.
Well their little test had proved she wasn’t a vampire. Morgana crossed the threshold like any other human, yet she still had the presence of a vampire. How?
“Hello, I’m Alastor.” Alastor stepped forward, holding out his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Alastor, I’m Morgana.” She grasped his hand, shaking it firmly.
Alastor winced, forcing a polite smile. “Strong grip ye have there,” his voice tight.
Gareth threw his friend a questioning glance. Not wanting to seem rude, he stood from his chair, crossed the room, and held out his hand. “I’m Gareth.”
She held his hand in a firm grip as well. Gareth was surprised at the strength she possessed. Alastor hadn’t exaggerated. Yet, her skin felt like silk.
“I hope you don’t mind, I brought a bottle of wine.” Morgana held out the bottle, glancing toward Ava.
Gareth leaned in and took the bottle of wine from her. “1963 Vintage. Wow, this is a really good wine. Expensive,” he muttered.
“It was just something my parents had in the cellar.”
Sure, Gareth thought. Not only beautiful but cultured as well, he muttered a bit, thinking he’d kept the thought to himself, but the blush on her face made him think she may have heard. The rush of blood had given her an attractive, rosy glow. But even her beauty wouldn’t stop him from ripping open the pulsing artery in her neck. The more he was around her, the more he longed to taste her blood. He was going to have to fight the cravings with a level of strength he wasn’t used to exuding to prevent from attacking her in Ava’s apartment. Ava would probably kill him if he splashed blood all over her nice clean carpet. He would be careful not to spill much as her blood smelled too precious to waste.
“How thoughtful,” Ava replied, pulling the bottle out of his hand, snapping him out of the trance. “The wine will go nicely with dinner.”
“I thought the drinking age was twenty-one?” Alastor mused, eyeing Morgana for her response.
“I look much younger than I am.” Morgana winked.
Dinner was a strange affair. Gareth couldn’t stop gawking at Morgana. She ate human food heartily like she genuinely enjoyed it. Meanwhile, both he and Alastor were gagging down their meal. He wasn’t too fussed on human food. He would need a gallon of blood afterward to help with the digestion. The thought made him wonder about Morgana’s blood again. Now that would certainly be a nice addition to the meal. But this growing feeling inside him made him hold back. There she was, fresh blood sitting adjacent to him at the table. All he had to do was reach over, seize her slender body in his hands, and pierce her soft skin with his sharp fangs, gulping the sweet liquid simmering below her silky surface.
Gareth’s fangs were starting to protrude. Hastily, he took a sip of wine. The action helped to take his mind off thoughts of attacking Morgana. His fangs slowly retracted, and he licked his teeth. Part of the problem with drinking her blood would be he’d have to get close enough to her to sink his fangs into her flesh. He hadn’t been physically close to a female since coming to this town. And to become emotionally close enough with someone to taste their blood without being beat by a purse, well, was something he could never bring himself to do. Distracted by his thoughts, he hadn’t even realized the girls were talking.
“So how did you come to be working at The Oak Wood Hills Daily?” Morgana asked Ava.
“It’s my father’s paper. He’s the editor,” Ava replied. “I moved back here after college to work at the paper. It was always a hope of my Dad’s for me to work with him. I needed to gain some experience before I pursued my dream of going to work in the city at The Nicholas Chronicle, anyway.”
“How funny we both work with our fathers,” Morgana quipped, struggling to find common ground.
Gareth was sure he detected an undertone of bitterness.
“Yes, true.” Ava smiled and nodded.
“So what’s stopping you from kickstarting your career in Summerville now?” Morgana took a bite of food.
“Well, meeting Alastor postponed the move to the big city.” Ava smiled lovingly at Alastor.
Alastor returned the gesture with a dopey grin.
“And how did you two meet?” Morgana asked.
Ava’s eyes lit up. “Well, I’d been working at my father’s paper for about a year. I wasn’t too happy writing for The Oak Wood Hills Daily. There was nothing really interesting to report.” She sighed. “One evening, after another mundane day at the office, I walked into a bar to get myself a drink. I sat at the bar and ordered, and then I heard his voice. I’d always had a thing for Irish and Scottish accents. I turned, and there was the most stunning man I’d ever seen. He’d walked up to the bar to order a drink. I was so bedazzled by his presence. He smiled at me, and I’m telling you, Morgana, I nearly fell off my chair. He offered to buy me a drink, and well, the rest is history.” Ava grabbed Alastor’s hand.
“Aw, what a lovely story,” Morgana said.
“What about you, Morgana? Did you leave anyone special behind in Australia?”
Gareth’s ears perked up. He had only been half-listening to the girls’ conversation. But now he tuned in if only so he could find out more about what sort of threat she may pose, he told himself. “Yes, Morgana, do you have a special person in your life?” he pressed.
“No, there was no one special in Australia. I never had the time.” She looked him squarely in the eyes as she spoke. “But I wouldn’t rule out the possibility.” They held each other’s gaze. The tension was building. It was getting harder for Gareth to ignore the stirring of feelings for her. But, as always, suspicion and curiosity were still lurking in the back of his mind. What was she? And why had she and her family come here?
“Stop starin’ at her like she’s dinner,” Alastor choked out under the guise of clearing his throat.
Morgana jumped.
Gareth cocked his head. Did she hear him?
Her eyes darted back and forth between Alastor and Gareth. This time there seemed to be suspicion in them.
Why would she be suspicious of them? Gareth wondered. His eyes narrowed.
“Lovely meal, Ava,” Morgana commented, breaking eye contact.
“Thank you, Morgana. So tell me what it’s like working on your father’s campaign?”
“I’m enjoying it immensely,” Morgana replied, though Gareth immediately noticed the distinct lack of joy in her voice. “Father’s campaign is a strong one. We feel we will be able to get the votes we need to win the election.”
“What makes you confident the locals will accept your father as mayor? What if he doesn’t win, does he intend to throw any support behind his opponent’s agenda?” Ava leaned forward.
“Give it a rest, Ava, yer not workin’ right now,” Alastor chided.
Ava blushed a deep red. He knew he and Alastor shifted at the sight of blood under her skin, but he was sure Morgana had moved too. “Sorry. Sometimes I can get carried away when I start asking questions. I go into journalism mode.”
Normally, he’d reprove Ava as well, but Gareth wanted to know more about Morgana. “So, you’re taking a year off college to work on your father’s campaign?”
“I’m studying diplomacy and politics. I thought it would be a good opportunity to gain experience firsthand by working on an actual political campaign.” The answer sounded rehearsed to Gareth, but eager to learn more, he continued questioning her.
“Do you like living in Oak Wood Hills?”
“It’s a pretty little town. This is a lovely part of the world.”
“How does it differ from Australia? Did you like living down there?”
“It was beautiful as well, and it has a diverse culture. Everyone was very friendly and laid back.”
“So what do you think about the bear attacks here?” Gareth asked, hoping to catch her off guard and elicit a revealing response.
“What’s with the twenty questions, mate?” Alastor’s tone held a hint of warning.
Gareth relaxed his shoulders and leaned back. He was trying too hard to get all the answers out of Morgana. He should have taken it slow and acted more human toward her. He was just so used to being himself around Alastor and Ava if often slipped his mind.
“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” said Morgana. “I think the bear attacks are very unfortunate, for both the bears and the people being attacked. Obviously, the humans were intruding on the bears’ territory during mating season when bears can get quite nasty. The hunters, especially, were brazen and really, in a way, asking for it.”
“So, you think it’s the fault of the hunters and not the bears?” Gareth leaned in toward Morgana.
Ava kicked his leg under the table.
Alastor hissed under his breath.
Gareth ignored them both. He wanted to know if her family was involved, and he suspected the only way to get her to slip-up and possibly divulge anything would be to rattle her.
“Careful where yer goin’ with this.” Alastor’s voice was a decibel too low for most humans to hear, but Gareth was sure he’d caught a reaction from Morgana again as if she had heard.
“Bears are very instinctive. You can’t blame them for defending their territory.” Morgana looked Gareth square in the eyes. “All animals do what they must to survive.” Her eyes flashed.
Gareth could barely contain himself.
Morgana continued, “Of course, the attacks increased when the hunters flocked to the woods to avenge their fellow hunters. Still, the hunters killed a few bears. Shouldn’t that have solved it? And if not, it begs the question how big of a bear population is actually out there? And why are they so blood-thirsty? These bears have already exceeded the yearly national average for fatal bear attacks in the entire United States.”
Ava pulled a small pad and short pencil out of her back pocket and scribbled notes as fast as possible.
Morgana leaned forward, facing Gareth, her chin resting on her hand as she spoke. “There hasn’t been an attack in over a week, though. Who knows, maybe the remaining band
of hunter-killing bears has been scared off, and there will be no more attacks. Everyone in town will be able to rest easy.”
Gareth leaned back. Was she hinting at the possibility it was her vampire parents who were attacking the people, and now they’d attracted so much attention, would it stop, or was this a thickly veiled threat for Gareth? He rubbed his forehead.
Morgana looked down at her watch. “Well, it looks like it’s time for me to head off. I have an early start tomorrow.”
Gareth glanced at the clock above the stove. It was only nine-thirty, still early for a vampire but likely getting late for a human.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” Gareth offered. This would give him a chance to be alone with her to either continue questioning or begin ravaging. He wasn’t quite sure which it would be yet. He caught Ava and Alastor exchange a knowing expression with each other.
Morgana smiled and nodded her approval.
Even after the tension-filled conversation, Gareth liked she was pleased by his gesture. Yet, he remained suspicious. What was this mysterious creature up to?
“Thank you for dinner, Ava. It was delicious, and the company was very pleasant.” Morgana stood from the table.
Alastor grunted. “Pleasant? Does she live with wolves?”
Ava elbowed Alastor. “You’re very welcome, Morgana. Please come back anytime.”
Alastor and Gareth shot Ava a surprised expression.
Ava scowled, indicating they were both in a bit of trouble. She then followed Morgana to the living area where both girls rattled off an earful of polite human goodbyes which confused himself and Alastor, especially Gareth who generally spoke his mind and rarely repeated himself.
Eventually, Ava opened the door, and Gareth walked Morgana to the elevator.
“Your friends are very nice,” Morgana said.
Gareth glanced over his shoulder as he pressed the down button.