The Way of Escape (14 page)

I cringed a little bit at his second statement. Growing up with an abusive father meant that my childhood was severely lacking in the male affection department. As a result, I had always been a little uncomfortable with spontaneous physical contact even before I started setting boundaries for myself as a Christian. I usually had to ease into adding a physical component to a relationship or use alcohol and drugs to loosen up. I didn’t recoil when Augustus touched me because we had discussed every physical step we took and nothing had been a surprise except for the time he touched my hand at our first dinner together. However, even with our delicate planning, I had become comfortable around him abnormally quickly.

It’s probably just because I’m in a high stress situation that’s forcing me to focus on more important things,
I rationalized before shaking my concerns from my head.

“I have bigger explosions to worry about than being tempted by Augustus.”

“Even the smallest explosions can cause a lot of damage,” he argued. “I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine, but I should get going before the others wake up,” I diverted. “I’ll come back tomorrow to check on you and bring some more food.”

The little joy that had entered Connor’s eyes when I first opened the door that afternoon faded away and his shoulders slumped ever so slightly. When I leaned in to give him a hug, a fraction of the tension that had rendered his body rigid faded, but he was still clearly upset that I was leaving.

God, please protect him and keep him safe so he can return home in one piece,
I prayed.

I reluctantly ended our embrace and gave him the most convincing smile I could muster up before taking the tray as well as the evidence of my visit and joining Augustus by the stairs. He and I silently ascended the staircase and my head continued to spin as we walked to the ground floor. Between the news that Connor liked me and his observations about my relationship with Augustus, my mind was swimming with unwanted concerns and lingering worries about our plan.

“Why don’t we do something a little different this evening,” he suggested.

“Like what?”

“Emmanuel has a media room, which is perfect for watching movies. I’m sure we could find something enjoyable in his collection.”

I looked around to make sure no one was nearby before whispering, “Don’t we need to talk to the slaves tonight?”

“Tomorrow is a better choice. The less time they have to expose us to the coven with their unintentional anxiety or unchecked excitement, the better.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “Does watching a movie mean that we don’t have to eat dinner with the coven?”

“Yes, but we should make an appearance at some point before dawn,” Augustus answered. “I asked Amy the plan for tonight when I picked up your breakfast. She said that Emmanuel’s personal shopper is bringing in gowns for you to try on for the eclipse party. The other coven members have already purchased their attire, so you are the only one who is without an appropriate ensemble.”

“How thoughtful of him,” I said flatly, “but escaping for a couple of hours with a movie does sound nice.”

“A movie it is then.”

♦              ♦              ♦

Within minutes, Augustus and I were in Emmanuel’s media room perusing his impressive collection of movies. He had every format imaginable from actual reels of film to VHS tapes to DVDs, and the genres and languages were just as varied. If I’d been picking out a movie for a night in with friends, action and science fiction movies would have been calling my name, but my mood called for something a little bit lighter and a lot more hopeful.

I wound up settling on a 1940s film adaptation of an old favorite novel,
Little Women.
Louisa May Alcott’s story of the March family had captivated my attention as a child and always lifted my spirits. Once I made my choice and popped the movie into the DVD player, I sat down on the large leather couch.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a drink,” Augustus called from the wet bar as he mixed a beverage for himself.

“I’m fine, but thanks.”

The vampire sat down beside me with his drink and I hit play. As he and I watched the classic, we commented on the differences between the version we were watching and other adaptations we’d seen over the years. Augustus even shared stories about his life during the Civil War and pointed out several historical inaccuracies. While the reason for his firsthand knowledge about the war was a bit unnerving to me, I still enjoyed listening to his commentary and wondered what other events he had witnessed during the centuries he’d lived.

“Of all the periods you’ve lived through, which one did you enjoy the most?”

“Probably the Age of Enlightenment. It was an exciting time because there were so many philosophical and scientific revolutions and advancements. Obviously, a lot of progress has been made in those areas since then, but people were more amazed by the discoveries then than they are now.”

“I can imagine. I feel like most of the interesting advancements made these days get buried by celebrity gossip and so-called news about viral videos. It’s like everyone is too busy being amused to be enlightened.”

“I’ve noticed the same trend. Cable television is one of my least favorite inventions,” he sneered. “With hundreds of channels at our fingertips, we can easily lose ourselves in a horde of sitcoms, reality shows, and televised activities that barely pass for sports.”

“If I had a drink, I’d raise my glass.”

Augustus chuckled and rested his arm on the back of the couch, his fingers barely brushing my shoulder.

“I watch cable news channels and historical programming on occasion,” he admitted with a smile. “Vampire movies and television shows are also fairly amusing because of their glaring inaccuracies.”

“What do they usually get wrong?”

“The way we die. Vampires don’t explode into fiery ashes when people stake us, and only wood that truly impales the heart is fatal. While scratching the heart or puncturing the torso with wood is paralyzing enough to give our opponents time to finish the job, it isn’t necessarily fatal,” he explained. “When someone stakes us, our bodies rapidly age and decay before crumbling into dust. Some say that we experience all of the aging and decomposition we’ve avoided as vampires in a single moment.”

As I listened to Augustus’ explanation of how vampires died, I pictured him morphing from the handsome man in front of me to a decaying corpse, and I decided that I preferred the fictional depictions.

“What about the sun?”

“The sun burns our skin more mercilessly than fire burns yours. Our skin blisters and blackens in a matter of seconds when we’re fully exposed to direct sunlight. Within a minute or two, our flesh catches fire and the pain can render us immobile. Once the sun claims a vampire’s life, the same decomposition process takes place, but it’s accelerated by the fire.”

“That sounds awful.”

“Well, it’s a fate many here will succumb to in the near future,” he reminded me.

An image of Emmanuel’s death by sunlight flashed before my eyes. Despite how much I detested the fiendish Frenchman, I couldn’t bring myself to rejoice in his future torment … especially after learning how painful it would be. I shook the disturbing vision as well as the pity that began to burgeon from my head and moved on.

“Speaking of the future, we should talk to the slaves before the other vampires get up tomorrow, but I need to know more about the plan first.”

“I’ve taken inventory of the grounds the past two days while you’ve been on your own. I located the gasoline and oil supply Emmanuel uses for his boats. That along with some other flammable materials on the property can be used to set the house ablaze once everyone ventures outside for the eclipse.”

“The stove in the kitchen uses gas,” I remembered. “We could take advantage of that too.”

“Yes, we could.”

“Are we setting the fire?”

“No, the slaves will be in charge of that since the house needs to be on fire by the time we exchange blood. I’ll ensure that the slaves are armed with stakes so they can protect themselves in case any vampires are able to withstand the sun’s rays long enough to retaliate.”

“Okay,” I said with a nod. “I don’t think we should include the personal slaves in our plans. We can tell the others to save them, but if the others are as … loyal as Leah was, we can’t trust them with this kind of information.”

“I agree.”

“Their memories will be erased as soon as they leave, right?”

“Yes, they will forget everything they’ve seen and done here as soon as they are away from the island.”

“What about the boat? What will the authorities find if they look into the owner?”

“Nothing truly incriminating. Vampires are very good at covering their tracks. We like to keep our possessions as untraceable as possible. At the least, it will have no identifying information. At the most, it will point to a dummy corporation or a false identity. It may even be stolen.”

I nodded and stared at the DVD menu as I thought about the days ahead. The plan we were about to set in motion was incredibly dangerous and would end the lives of many vampires and possibly a few humans as well if the vampires pushed past their pain and lashed out at them. They had all endured unthinkable pain as slaves, and they might have to suffer more to claim their freedom. The potential peril involved was one of many reasons why I didn’t want Augustus to exert his supernatural influence over them. I didn’t believe in forcing them to risk their own lives even if they’d find freedom in the process.

God, please help everyone return home safely and protect them as they escape from their oppressors.

The feeling of Augustus’ arm around my shoulders pulled me from my moment of introspection.

“Either this list of scenes and special features is incredibly enthralling or you have a lot on your mind,” he said with a smile.

“I was just praying that everyone would get home alright.”

“You’ll be going home as well,” Augustus pointed out.

“I know. It’s going to be interesting,” I said. “Have you already found a place for us to hide out during the eclipse?”

“I have. Would you like to see it?”

“Sure.”

Augustus and I vacated the couch, turned off the electronics, and left the room. When we headed downstairs and passed through the house, we heard peals of laughter coming from the dining room as the vampires enjoyed their ill-gotten dinner. Catching a glimpse of Danielle fang-deep in Patrick’s throat made my stomach turn slightly. Nevertheless, the sight and smell of their meal also inspired a little growling that it didn’t take supernaturally sharpened senses to hear.

“Maybe we should pay a visit to the kitchen,” Augustus suggested. “We can make this walk into a little moonlit picnic.”

“That sounds good to me.”

The two of us walked to the kitchen and found Amy using a tiny blowtorch to caramelize the tops of several servings of crème brûlée. Upon hearing our footsteps, the cook tensed and looked up from the ramekins. When she recognized me, her hunched shoulders lowered and her posture became less rigid as she returned to her tedious task.

“Hello, Clara and Lord Augustus,” she greeted. “What can I help you with?”

“Do you have any leftovers from dinner tonight,” I asked.

“Yes, there are a few servings of baked ziti left. I can pack them up for you.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Augustus said. “Where do you keep the storage containers?”

The chef furrowed her brow in confusion at Augustus’ response, but answered promptly.

“In the cabinet to the left of the oven, my lord.”

“Thank you.”

As my undead friend packed up our dinner, Amy turned her attention back to the crème brûlée.

“I heard you’re the reason the master let Blanca and Rachel go,” she continued quietly, her eyes never leaving her sweet handiwork. “Is that true?”

“Yes, it is. I asked Emmanuel to give you your freedom, but he said you were too valuable to set free.”

“Why would you do something like that? You don’t even know us.”

“I don’t have to know you to know that being enslaved and abused can crush someone’s soul.”

Amy finished caramelizing the desserts and gave me the full weight of her honey-hued eyes as she crossed her arms.

“If you feel that way about slavery, why are you becoming a vampire?”

While the chef’s accusatory words and tone weren’t what I’d hoped for, the fact that she was even conversing with me was progress. I leaned over the prep table and lowered my voice as I answered her question.

“Because I can help set all of you free by becoming one. I can’t say more now, but I’ll tell you and everyone else exactly what Augustus and I have planned tomorrow. We don’t want this life for you or anyone else. You can trust us.”

Rather than responding, the justifiably suspicious cook walked over to the intercom a few feet away and pressed the button to activate the device, my heart thrashing in my chest as I waited for her to speak and potentially rat us out to her ageless master.

“Dessert is ready.”