Page 50 of The Vampire Always Rises
I looked around the backseat, but there was nothing there but the bag slung across my chest, which was hardly a blunt weapon.
I couldn’t even call Merrick, since Carlo had my phone.
I kicked Ellis with my toes a couple of times until he snorted, murmuring sleepily.
“Wake up,” I whispered in his ear. “Ellis, wake up!”
He murmured again, and turned his back to me, the jet lag clearly having caught up to him. I nudged and kicked him a few more times, but he just mumbled and started snoring again.
There was nothing for it—I couldn’t see a way to save Ellis and me, but if I got away from Carlo, then they’d be likely to dump Ellis somewhere. They wanted me, not him, so I was fairly confident that they wouldn’t want to be bothered with a captive who had no use.
They might kill him,Inner Tempest pointed out, but I reminded her that Carlo had had the chance to do that already, and hadn’t, which boded well for Ellis.
I had a strong feeling I was in a different situation, which meant I couldn’t just sit back here and wait for them to use me to get to Merrick.
I turned my head slightly to look out of the window. Giovanni stood outside the car, filling the gas tank. In front of me, Carlo had leaned back in his seat, if not asleep, then clearly relaxed.
Giovanni finished with the gas and, with a stretch, bent down to say something through the window to Carlo. The latter just grunted. Giovanni headed for the gas station building, probably to use the bathroom.
It was now or never.
Without telegraphing my intentions, I suddenly flung myself forward, slamming my fist into the side of Carlo’s head and causing his head to knock painfully into the window. He snarled in pain, one hand up to the eye I’d punched, the other scrabbling at nothing. He was effectively trapped by his seat belt when I scrambled over the seat, but turned to look when I snatched up my phone, which sat next to him on the seat. I punched him again, snapping his head back with a dull crack, and climbed out of the car, unlocking the back doors as I did so.
“Ellis! Wake up! This is our only chance!” I jerked open the door, and tried to pull him out, but like Carlo, he was strapped in tight. “ELLIS!”
He just mumbled something, and returned to snoring. With no time left, I snapped, “Kelso, come!”
The dog leaped over Ellis and came straight to me, his tail up and ears alert.
“Good boy. Let’s go.” I grabbed his leash but, in doing so, dropped my phone, which bounced under a display stand of various grades of motor oil. I paused for a moment, wanting my phone, but knowing it was more important that I get away. Carlo started shaking his head groggily, which decided for me. We ran for the street; all the while I half expected to hear Carlo bellowing for Giovanni at any moment.
We made it down the block before we heard the sound of an engine roaring and tires squealing. Since we were in a quasi-residential area, I immediately turned off the street, and ran for the side of the nearest house, hoping to get in the backyard before Carlo’s car passed. We didn’t quite make it, but a small waist-high stack of chopped wood provided Kelso and me with cover. We crouched behind and peered around it, watching as the car sped past.
“We’re staying here,” I whispered to Kelso, urging him to lie flat on the ground. “I bet they’ll come back looking for us, and if we try to go, they’ll see us.”
Sure enough, five minutes later, the car crawled past, obviously looking for signs of us. Evidently they didn’t feel the woodpile was suspicious, although they drove by four more times in the next few minutes. I sat cross-legged with my back against the house, and decided to wait a half hour before venturing out.
“I just hope Ellis is OK,” I said softly, stroking Kelso’s head. He gave me his paw, which I gravely shook.
The sun was beginning to set when we finally left our hiding spot. Just as we emerged from the side of the house, a car pulled up and a family of five got out of their car, all of them staring at me.
“Hi,” I said, waving awkwardly as Kelso and I shuffled toward the road. “Sorry, my ... uh ... dog ...” I gestured toward the side of the house just as if that explained everything, and added,“Bonjour! Ça va! A bientôt.”And then I hurried off in the direction of the gas station, where I hoped my phone would still be under the display of oil.
Chapter Twelve
The odd feeling came while Merrick was about an hour outside Nice, accompanying the thief taker.
“Yes, I’m fairly certain we’re on the right track,” Savian said, examining the ground outside a small café. “There’s definitely signs of him here. I’m willing to bet you that he was originally headed for Nice.”
“We just came from there,” Merrick objected, trying to pinpoint why he was suddenly uneasy.
“Yes, but we were following the trail the wrong way. That or he doubled back over his track, and I don’t see why he’d do that.” Savian looked up and down the highway, just as if the answer were written there. “Then again, maybe he did. Hmm. If I had to guess, I’d say ...”
Merrick waited, struggling with his impatience. He glanced at his phone, but there was no message from Tempest. He had no doubt she’d text him if she was in any trouble ... or had a question ... or even just to say something outrageous.
Damn, but he wanted to hear from her. He wanted to know what she was thinking. And doing. And he wanted to touch her. The taste of her was still fresh in his mind, and dwelling on it had the hunger that growled around inside him roaring to life.
“I’d say they went that way.” Savianpointed away from Nice. “The signs are just a smidgen fresher that way.”
