Aaron Read online

  Through his tears, he gazed upon her pristine face. He gently turned her head so that he could look upon her and straightened the red curls that framed her beautiful face. She was every bit as beautiful in death as she had been in life, and with a soft kiss on her exquisite lips, he ran his hand down her cheek one last time and then ripped himself out of the house.

  In the yard, he collapsed on his knees on the ground. “Why, God? Why?” he screamed into the early evening sky. “How could you do this to me? Take my wife and my child? How can you expect me to go on—alone?”

  If God had an answer, He did not share it just then, and Aaron eventually crumpled on the ground, crying himself to sleep in a heap on the front lawn.

  “Aaron? Aaron? What are you doing?”

  His eyes were still closed, but he would recognize that voice anywhere. At first, he thought perhaps he was dreaming, that he only thought he was awake, but as he opened his eyes, he realized Aislyn was standing in the doorway, her face calm and serene, one hand atop her bulging abdomen, the other below it.

  He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  Jumping up from the ground, he ran to her, forgetting about disguising his speed, and threw his arms around her. “Aislyn?” he called. “Is it true? Are you alive?”

  “I seem to be,” she laughed.

  Her eyes were a bit swollen and her skin was paler than usual, but she had been sick for so long, it was natural to think she wouldn’t quite be herself just yet. “You were dead,” he explained. “I watched you die.”

  She looked at him inquisitively and then, with a shrug said, “Well, I’m alive now.”

  With no further explanation needed, Aaron kissed her. “I love you,” he whispered, kissing her on the forehead. “I love you so much, sweet Aislyn.”

  “I love you, too,” she said with a smile, her teeth gleaming in the moonlight.

  “You should get some rest,” he said, unable to take his hands off of her. “You may feel better, but you’ve been sick for quite some time, and there’s no reason to jeopardize your health.”

  “Fair enough,” she replied, and he helped her back to the same bed he’d spent hours worrying and crying over earlier.

  Once she was safely tucked in, he asked, “Are you hungry?”

  “No,” Aislyn replied. “I’ll eat later.”

  With a smile and a kiss on her forehead, Aaron smoothed her hair, thanking God for returning his perfect angel to him, and their baby. Once again, he felt like the luckiest man in the world.

  Something was different; something was wrong. He was an intelligent man, and he knew his wife very well. So, the fact that he was unable or unwilling to admit to himself or to anyone else that Aislyn was acting peculiarly was blamed on a number of other things. She’d been sick. He was going through changes himself. Shannon’s death was disturbing to both of them, as was Kian’s disappearance. No, Aislyn wasn’t quite her former self, but who would be after a long illness? Additionally, she was nearly five months pregnant. She was certain she’d return to her usual disposition just as soon as the baby arrived.

  When Aislyn refused dinner because she was nauseous and kept her eyes squinted because the light hurt her eyes, Aaron dismissed both as symptoms of the pregnancy or the illness. Her skin became paler; the circles under her eyes darker. Her skin was cold. He had never had a pregnant wife before, but he imagined all of these things could be because of the baby.

  The butterflies in his stomach were just a reminder of why had married her in the first place; Aislyn was his perfect angel.

  Aaron became quite good at living in denial. One day, walking into town, he passed a mourning party, carrying a tiny coffin to a grave. He didn’t have to ask how the child had died. He knew in his heart it had been yet another Vampire attack. He still refused to admit it was potentially his own wife who had claimed this wee babe.

  It wasn’t until that very night, as he lay in a dreamless sleep, that a noise caught his attention. Half asleep, half awake, he opened his eyes. At first, he thought he must be dreaming, but sitting up and rubbing his eyes, he realized that what he was looking at was real. In the dim firelight, he saw Aislyn in the doorway, still wearing her white sleeping gown, but she had red liquid dripping from her chin, and before she realized he was awake, she used the back of her hand to wipe her face, and then licked the substance smeared across her knuckles.

  Unsure exactly what to do, Aaron slid back down into bed. A few minutes later, Aislyn resumed her place next to him, but as he turned to face her, he could clearly see blood beginning to dry around her mouth.

  He spent the next several hours staring at the ceiling above them, pondering what to do. How could he have let this happen? When, and by whom, had she been infected? Had it been right underneath his nose?

  His best guess was that it had been Shannon. How she had been infected was beyond him, but during that time when Kian was unsure if anything was wrong, when Aaron was still pacifying him, she had likely made contact with his wife, changing their lives forever.

  There was no way for him to know whether or not their child was also a Vampire. Just because the mother was one, did that automatically mean the unborn child would be as well? Resolved to seek out Ward or another expert the next day, he finally closed his eyes. Even then, however, he could not sleep. Whether he waited until the child was born or not, he would lose his Aislyn, a thought he could not fathom.

  The next morning, he began to convince himself it was likely all a dream. Surely, his wife was not truly a Vampire. If there had been blood on her face the night before, there was none now. She had no fangs, and while her eyes were not quite the vibrant green they used to be, there were other reasons why they may appear darker.

  Even though he wanted to dismiss the whole idea, he decided to at least head to town to look for Ward to see if he could answer a few other questions. On his way, he passed yet another tiny cross, this one very near the other. He began to realize there was only one possible outcome to this predicament.

  Ward was not in the house where they had first met. He did a search around the village, hoping somehow he might be able to pick up on other like-minded individuals. Nowhere he turned did he find anyone who might be able to help him.

  On his way back home, he happened by Kian’s parents’ house. There, in the back yard, he spied his best friend, chopping firewood. His initial reaction was to call out, but then he remembered; they were no longer friends. He stood in the road, staring in his direction for several minutes. Eventually, Kian looked up and saw him. Without a word, he dropped the axe and marched into the house.

  With a sigh and a heavy heart, Aaron continued on his way, passing the crosses as he went.

  When he walked in the door, Aislyn was there with a hug and a kiss, and things seemed much like they used to. She had dinner on the table, though it wasn’t much, and he sat next to her while she moved food around in her bowl, occasionally putting a bite in her mouth and removing it when she thought he wasn’t looking.

  He went to bed that night still unsure what to do about the child. How could he punish his own baby for something so very much out of his or her control? None of this was even Aislyn’s fault, let alone the child. It took hours for him to fall asleep, and by the time he did, he was no closer to coming to a decision. He wished his Gen were there to help him.

  The sound of the door creaking closed woke him a few hours later, but he didn’t bother to lift his head. He had no desire to see his Vampire wife lick the blood of an innocent child from her hand.

  The next morning, Aaron awoke knowing precisely what he had to do.

  Asking Kian to help him was out of the question. Not only would he refuse, Aaron knew that, if he employed the assistance of another, he would grow to hate that person, laying the blame on them for the action he was too weak to take himself. He understood now why Kian refused to speak to him. Even though they both knew better, he held Aaron responsible for Shannon’s death.

  He wouldn’t p
ut this burden on anyone else’s shoulders. He would perform the task he must carry out in order to spare the children of Killarney, and then he would put Ward’s proclamation that he was unable to die to the test. If it proved true, he would go about finding a Hunter who would finish him off. That was a task he was quite certain Kian would be willing to perform.

  That day, he went about his typical tasks, as did Aislyn. She even hummed a lullaby as she swept the dust out the door. After dinner, they read the Bible together, though Aislyn refused to touch it, and changed into their night clothes. The kiss goodnight was a long one, but Aaron did not want to remember this as the last kiss with his wife; whatever this creature was, it was not his sweet Aislyn.

  She was snoring softly next to him as the night grew long. He did not, and could not, sleep. His hope was that, just as he had with Shannon, he could drive the stake in before she realized what was happening.

  As it neared midnight, he quietly arose from bed. Not bothering to change his clothes, he crept outside to retrieve the stake and reentered their home.

  Aislyn lay on her back with her hands folded, the same way he had discovered Shannon. She was so beautiful, even though she was not quite herself. Still, he had so many memories of that face, that hair. Doubt began to creep into his mind, and he hesitated. Before he could restore his resolve, her eyes flew open. “Aaron, darling, whatever are you doing?” she asked.

  She didn’t sit up completely, and he took this opportunity to climb on top of her, his knees on either side of her hips. “I’m sorry, Aislyn. I know what you are. And I think you know what I am, too. This must end tonight.”

  Her eyebrows creased atop her steel gray eyes. “What are you talking about?” she asked, panic beginning to rise in her voice. “Of course, you know who I am. I’m your wife.”

  “You’re a Vampire,” he said, his voice as calm as he could force it to be.

  “A Vampire?” she repeated. “Darling, that’s ridiculous. I’m your wife. I’m carrying your child. Now, put that down.”

  “You’re a Vampire,” he insisted, though he could feel the doubt beginning to creep into his mind. “You’ve become a Dark One.”

  “A Dark One? Aaron, my love, you’re dreaming. Put that weapon down now, before you hurt someone.”

  Though the room was fairly dark, with only a small fire and a bit of moonlight illuminating the expanse, even under those conditions, he realized her teeth were changing. The more she spoke, the pointier they became. While Aislyn’s words convinced him she was the wife he had known and loved, her teeth revealed her true identity.

  “I love you, Aislyn,” he said.

  “Aaron, no! Please!” she begged, attempting to free her arms, which were pinned at her sides by his knees.

  Before she could break away and escape into the night, Aaron took a deep breath and jammed the stake down into her heart, bracing himself for the shriek he was sure to hear next.

  Aislyn’s eyes bulged. She inhaled deeply and then released that last breath, the sound of her exhaling the only noise that escaped her lips.

  When the scream did not come, Aaron began to panic. What if he was wrong? What if she really was not a Vampire after all? He checked around the stake and found no blood, a sign she was no human. Frantically, he tore off the bed sheets and began to search her body. If there was an infected spot on her body, he needed to find it.

  His initial search turned up nothing, so he lit a lantern and began to check her over again. The fact that she had not turned to ashes made him continue to question what he had done. This time, however, he eventually found it. On her left ankle, on the outside, there was a tiny purplish, black mark. Whether it was Shannon or another Vampire, this was the spot where she had been infected; he was sure of it. He rose and kissed her forehead, and as his lips met her flesh, her body dissolved into a pile of ashes.

  There before him on the bed lie the most remarkable sight he’d ever seen. Curled up as if she was sleeping, his tiny baby daughter sat among the ashes. Though she was only in her mother’s womb about five months’ time, she was perfectly formed in every way, and as Aaron carefully lifted her small, lifeless body and cradled her in his arms, he began to weep uncontrollably. Had he done the unthinkable and ended the life of his innocent daughter because of the actions of her mother? Could he have waited a few more months so that his child could be born and then taken care of Aislyn? Her head was crowned with soft black hair; he kissed her cheeks and held her against his chest until she too began to dissolve. Though her face had faded away, Aaron would always remember the angelic child he’d held in his arms.

  He released the ashes onto the sheet amidst the remains of Aislyn and then dropped to his knees unable to hold back his tears. He had no idea how he would go on without Aislyn, but he knew in his heart that he had a purpose that was bigger than the life he had intended for himself, that he had the capabilities of turning his pain into hope for others. Where he had stumbled and lost so much, he could protect others and keep their loved ones from ever having to say goodbye.

  Tonight, he would mourn the loss of his angelic wife, Aislyn, and their precious daughter, Aarolyn. In the morning, he would rise from the ashes and begin the journey towards his destiny, defending Vampire Hunters and protecting the world against Vampires as a full-fledged Guardian.

  Chapter 7

  London, England, 1888

  London was much different than the peaceful rolling hills of Killarney, and while from time to time, Aaron missed the life he’d left behind, joining Ward’s team in London ended up being the best decision he could have made at the time. Now, over forty years after he’d left his home in Ireland, he was finally beginning to feel as if he had the hang of being a Guardian, though he was still learning.

  Sitting in an office with a decent view of Hyde Park in the distance, he went over the notes Ward had provided him regarding the recent incidents in Whitechapel. None of them were quite certain how many victims they were looking at since the area had a reputation for being an uncouth slum, but with the recent demise of a young woman drained of most of her blood with slashes across her neck, it became clear that it was time for Ward’s team to take action.

  As usual, the facts in the press were not at all reliable. Ward knew the best way to get information was to have eyes and ears on the police force, so several Hunters and Guardians spent at least part of their time working inside jobs. In most cases, when a Vampire was involved in a suspicious murder, the evidence was quite clear, and once Ward was called in, tracking down the noncompliant Vampire and destroying it was only a matter of time.

  In this case, things were much more complicated, and Aaron wasn’t even sure if all of the murders were attributable to the same suspect, let alone the same Vampire.

  He paged through the notes again, so enthralled by what he was reading, he didn’t acknowledge the office door when it opened, though he was vaguely aware that he wasn’t alone when a familiar voice said, “Find anything interesting?”

  Looking up into large brown eyes, he smiled. Vicky certainly knew how to be stealthy. “It’s all interesting,” he replied as he gestured for her to have a seat, “but I’m still not sure what to make of it.”

  “Mind if I take a look?” He slid the folder across the desk to her and took the opportunity to make some notes himself as she read through the documents.

  Forty years had come and gone in the blink of an eye. While he spent very little time reflecting on the events of the evening Ward had come to his house in Killarney and found him sobbing into a pile of ashes, his mind did often return to his wife, Aislyn. Now, sitting across from the attractive blonde teammate he’d worked with for over three decades, a woman who was a firecracker and smart as a whip, he reminded himself he’d sworn never to fall in love again. If he couldn’t keep his promise to Aislyn to protect her, the least he could do was honor her memory by keeping his wedding vows.

  “Well, it seems pretty straightforward to me,” Vicky replied, tossing the file
back onto his desk.

  “How’s that?” he asked, steeling himself for what was sure to be a sarcastic remark.

  “Seems we’ve got a murderer on our hands,” she shrugged.

  He couldn’t help but laugh. “That is the most brilliant deduction I’ve heard today.”

  “I try,” she replied, rubbing her fingernails on her shoulder and blowing on her hand.

  Unlike any other woman he’d ever met, Vicky refused to wear a skirt. She said it prevented her from working properly, particularly the long, complicated dresses everyone was wearing these days. Instead, she wore a split skirt—essentially pants with very wide legs—with a button-down shirt and jacket. Regardless of her style, there wasn’t a male on their team who wouldn’t proclaim she was definitely a lady.

  “Ward gave me the file. He’ll be back this afternoon, but he’s trying to gather more information from one of our informants down at the station. It’s just hard to say if these are all related or if we actually have murderers,” he explained.

  “Touché,” she nodded. “It does look to me like those first two, the one from April and the first August death, may not be related to the one last week.”

  “I agree. And there’s really no reason to suspect that the first one was even a Vampire, but the police seem to want to lump them together, so Ward wanted me to check into it.”

  “Are you going over there tonight then? To Stinkytown?” She crinkled her nose up and shook her head, blonde curls dancing around her face as she did so.

  Aaron smiled. “I was thinking about it. Should I bring a nose plug?”

  She shrugged. “All of London could be called Stinkytown, I suppose, although having the park out the window does make Kensington a little bit nicer than say, I don’t know, Whitechapel.”

  “I agree. It’s nice,” he replied, turning his chair so that he could look out the window for a moment before turning back to face her.

  “Reminds me of home,” she said, a lilt of sadness in her voice. “What about you? Do you see the Irish countryside when you glance out the window?”