Even from the space between us, I could see the weariness, the straight-to-the-bone exhaustion. But still, he moved with determination. With a limp of an old man, he trudged out to the parking lot. I blurred out to him, thermos tightly held under my arm. My hands went to his cheeks as he blinked at me blankly. "Good god, Teren."
"Emma?" he croaked out, his voice sounding dry.
Worried that he really hadn't stopped anywhere to eat, I unscrewed the thermos lid. His eyes fixated on it instantly. "You haven't stopped moving in three days, have you? Have you slept? Eaten?"
He didn't answer me, only wavered on his feet and stared at the drink in my hands. Once the smell of blood hit the air, his fangs dropped down. A weak growl rose from his chest and he snatched the mug from me, tipping it up to his lips. In his eagerness, he tipped it back a little too far and the blood spilled down his chin, staining his caked-with-mud shirt. He didn't seem to care, gulping hungrily.
My eyes watered as I watched him. Both hands on the thermos, he didn't stop drinking until it was empty. I suddenly wished I'd brought more with me. Lowering the mug, he swiped his sleeve over his mouth. His eyes more alert, he locked gazes with me. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice a little stronger too.
My hands stroked his cheeks, my thumbs wiping some soot off them. "Come home. Take a break, rest, and then you can set off again."
He immediately shook his head, his body still tittering like he was going to fall over. "I can't."
Biting my lip, I shook my head. "You're no good to him dead on your feet. Rest, sleep...please."
His eyes looked past me, to the infinite places our son could be tucked. The world had never seemed as large to me as it did now. We could literally search for forever, and never find him, not with the bond shut off. Those pale eyes shimmered with tears as he took in the vastness around us. "I can't go home. I can't leave him...alone."
I felt the tears sliding down my face as his eyes returned to mine. "You haven't been eating." I ran my fingers along the soft spot under his eye. "You're running on empty," I whispered. "Just come home and have some more blood." I pointed at the thermos clenched in his hand. "When was the last time you ate?"
He shook his head. "When was the last time he ate?" More tears fell down my cheeks as I shook my head. I didn't want to think about that. I wanted to picture Julian full and healthy, even happy...even though Nika often told me that he was still scared.
Teren took a step and staggered, and my arms went around him. Holding him tight to me, I summoned all of the strength I had. "You are coming home with me. You're eating and resting. You can't search for our son if you can't even stand." He pulled away from me, shaking his head, and I gripped his chin, the stubble course under my fingers. "You could see him and pass right over him, you're so exhausted."
He opened his mouth to object, then shut it. Running my hands back through his hair, I soothingly said. "At least come with me to the ranch to see your daughter. She misses you. Mom says she cries all the time, feeling Julian's fear. Come home, hug her, let her know that we're still here...for her." I kissed his forehead. "She needs us too," I whispered.
Closing his eyes, tears squeezed out and dripped down his dirty cheeks. "Alright, I'll come home," he whispered, his voice breaking midsentence.
I turned to lead him back to my car when the wind shifted. A familiar scent was on it and my head snapped up. Teren's did too. Across the empty lot a man was standing patiently in a bright shaft of sunlight, watching us. He was lean, lanky, horrible disheveled, slightly bloody, and instantly familiar.
A rumble in my husband's chest was followed by only one word, "Malcolm." Then he used the last of his strength and blurred across the lot, the empty thermos crashing to the ground as he dropped it. I was a pace behind him. Fear and anger gave Teren a new reserve of strength and he tackled the man who'd taken our son. By the time I got there, Teren was holding him down, his hands clenching his throat tight.
"Where's my son?" he barked, the streaks of blood down his chin only emphasizing the viciousness in his eyes. For a moment, I thought Teren might start ripping limbs off of Malcolm until he got an answer. He'd tortured before for a loved one, and this time, it wouldn't horrify me if he did it again. I might even help.
Not needing the air that Teren was cutting off, the undead mixed vampire in his grasp smiled cockily. He pointed to his windpipe, raising an eyebrow. Teren eased up on his throat, but leaned over him, his face trembling in his rage. "Where's my son?" he asked again, colder.
Malcolm smiled casually at him. "This is certainly no way to begin introductions. There used to be an art to it, makes me miss the old days." One thin lip curved up devilishly as he raised his eyebrows suggestively. "And truly, I like to get to know a person a little better before being this intimate."
Teren's hand shoved Malcolm's chin up, exposing his throat. His fangs dropped down as a growl rumbled out of his throat. "You don't want to get to know me. What have you done with my son?"
Malcolm rolled his eyes at the display, then flatly said, "The rugrat is fine, but he won't be, if you don't back off."
Teren eased up a little, his entire body shaking with the restraint to not rip the man to pieces. "I will shove a stake right through you if you've hurt him," he growled.
Malcolm laughed a little. "Oh, big man." His hazel eyes flicked up to me; they were narrow-set, making his face seem as thin as the rest of him. "I bet that turns you on? I bet you find that sexy?"
A growl of my own ripped through the lot as I took a step towards him. Maybe I'd start the torture. Malcolm's amused face ended as he snapped his attention back to Teren. "Now, get off me, unless you never want to see him again."
Teren flexed his jaw and shook his head. Lifting Malcolm's head up a bit, he slammed it back to the concrete; the crack it made was distinct to my sharp ears. Malcolm flinched and hissed. "Start talking, where is he?" Teren held him down when Malcolm started to genuinely struggle to get up.
His fangs dropping down, Malcolm's eyes blazed with anger. "You will never find the hole I shoved that brat into if you do not get off me right now!"
Teren hissed back at him, his fangs getting longer. "I can make you talk, I've had practice."
Malcolm snorted, his fangs receding. "Yes, I've heard all about your 'talks' with vampires." Teren blinked and pulled back, his fangs pulling back as well. Sniffing, Malcolm looked between Teren hovered over him and me standing beside them. "You probably could make me speak, it's true." His hazel eyes narrowed at Teren as his thin lips hardened into a straight line. "But, can you break me...in time?"
I stopped breathing as I watched the worn vampire under my husband. Everything about him screamed exhaustion and desperation - the bloody tears in his worn clothes, the ratted, dirty light brown hair, the streaks of grime on his deceptively youthful face. As Teren was just as dirty and disheveled, I thought their physical levels of wear might be closely matched.
Teren sat up a little, backing off. Malcolm sat up on his elbows, glancing between the two of us again. Smiling confidently, he shrugged. "You see, I was a little quick to stash the child," he focused on Teren, "for obvious reasons, and I didn't really leave him much food or water." Looking up at the clear blue sky that he seemingly had no discomfort being under, he shook his head. "Come to think of it, I'm not sure when the snot ate last." His cold eyes came back to me. "I haven't been around much."
My mouth dropped open as my vision of a fat, happy Julian was suddenly popped. Now I pictured him in a dark hole, scared and starving. I couldn't remember how long a person could go without food or water. A series of threes thudded through my brain - three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food? Was that it? I had no idea. Even still, I knew dying that way would be excruciatingly painful. I started hyperventilating.
Teren lost it. His fist came around and bashed into the man's face. I could hear the cartilage snap as his nose shattered; blood spurted everywhere. Malcolm cried out, more annoyed than anything, and shoved Teren back, hard. Weak from lack of food and sleep, Malcolm managed to get him off and blurred to standing before I could stop him.
As Teren started to stand, losing his balance and falling back to the cement, Malcolm adjusted his nose. He sniffed when it was healed. Pointing at Teren still on the ground, he snarled, "You get one, vampire. That was it!"
I helped Teren stand up, both of us shaky from the news that we were still trying to absorb. "Why take a child? What do you want?" Teren muttered feebly.
Malcolm shrugged, adjusting his threadbare clothes. "What do any of us want? A safe place to lay our heads. A few warm blooded bodies to nibble on." His lips curled up in a smirk as he wiped some blood off his chin. "Gabriel's heart, staked to a platter."
Teren and I flicked a quick glance at each other as Malcolm crossed his arms over his chest. "You see, here's the thing." Reaching down, he picked two rocks off the ground. Holding one up, he said, "I have a problem," he lifted the other one up, "and you have a problem." He made the two rocks touch each other as he smiled at us. "Perhaps we can work together to solve both our problems."
Finding the strength to stand tall, Teren grasped my hand; I could feel the tension in him. He took a confident step forward. "My only problem...is you," he spat out.
Malcolm rolled his eyes and sighed irritably. "Hmmm...well, my problem, since I can see you're so choked up about it, is that I have a very determined vampire on my tail." Smirking, he lifted the grayer of the two rocks. "Picture this, five years ago, I was living my life, minding my own business. I had a lucrative little career that afforded me an opulent home and a small bevy of beautiful human hanger-ons." He lifted the darker of the two stones. "But then, some a**hole vampire killed one of my clients. Then that same do-gooder ran to my supplier and clued him in on the fact that his research wasn't exactly destroyed, like he'd thought."
He took the dark rock and flung it towards the abandoned building; it shattered the front window. Scowling, he looked back at us. "Now, a very powerful, pissed off vampire, is scouring the earth looking for me. And his form of justice is old school - we're talking no jury, no judge, and definitely no lawyers! Only an execution awaits me!"
Teren lifted his chin. I tried to do the same but my entire body was shaking a little bit. "We don't want any part in your fight with him. It has nothing to do with us. Let my son go."
Malcolm snorted, palming the gray rock. "He was oblivious to my activities, for decades, until you drew him a path right to me. That makes you a pretty big part of this." He sighed as he bounced the rock from hand to hand. "And now that ass won't let me be. He's got every spare set of eyes in his cult looking for me. And his influence extends everywhere. For years I've managed to escape him, but he's tenacious and vindictive. I'm broke, and I'm tired," his eyes flashed back to us, "and I'm done running." He snapped his wrist and the other rock sailed away, smashing another window in the abandoned building.