Reckoning: The Amish Bloodsuckers Trilogy, #3

Others Novels by Barbara Ellen Brink:

THE AMISH BLOODSUCKERS TRILOGY

Chosen

Shunned

Reckoning

THE FREDRICKSON WINERY NOVELS

Entangled

Crushed

Savor

Split Sense

SECOND CHANCES SERIES

Running Home

Alias Raven Black

DOUBLE BARREL MYSTERIES

Roadkill

Much Ado About Murder

MidSummer Madness

I SAW THE COUNT LYING within the box upon the earth, some of which the rude falling from the cart had scattered over him. He was deathly pale, just like a waxen image, and the red eyes glared with the horrible vindictive look which I knew too well. As I looked, the eyes saw the sinking sun, and the look of hate in them turned to triumph. But, on the instant, came the sweep and flash of Jonathan’s great knife. I shrieked as I saw it shear through the throat; whilst at the same moment Mr. Morris’s bowie knife plunged into the heart. It was like a miracle; but before our very eyes, and almost in the drawing of a breath, the whole body crumbled into dust and passed from our sight.

Mina Harker’s Diary in Dracula

Chapter 1

Vampire spit

WITH A TERRIFIED GLANCE back down the hallway slick with blood and Seth’s fallen body, Ruth hurried to lock Carole away in the pantry as she’d been told. Jael stared after her for a second, teeth gritted, her mind spinning with the night’s sudden horror. She’d come here at Abel’s request to check on Ruth and Carole, already suspecting from what he’d said, that Carole had been bitten and was infected with Vampirism. But she’d never suspected it would morph into chaos in the blink of an eye.

Carole had attacked so fast and furiously, surprising them both. Jael should have knocked Seth out of the way, but she failed to react quickly enough. Carole managed to stab him in the neck with a piece of broken glass and now he was bleeding out on the floor and she didn’t know what to do.

Luckily Father Thomas was here. She didn’t know if he would be able to save Seth, but he was her only hope now. If he started performing last rites over her uncle... she didn’t know what she’d do. Jael’s heart thundered with dread. Panic seized her mind and fear spread its tentacles, crushing the air from her lungs.

She crouched beside the priest. Seth looked even paler than a computer nerd who stayed indoors all the time, should. He was losing blood fast. We need to call an ambulance, she said, desperation making her words sharp.

No, Seth managed to gasp. His eyes fluttered open for a moment through sheer will power or an insane need to be the boss. No ambu... his words fell off and his eyes closed.

Father Thomas pulled off the black sweater he wore, and pressed it to Seth’s neck. He looked at Jael. Keep pressure on this. I’ll be right back.

Her eyes widened in alarm. Where are you going? You can’t leave me here. I’m a slayer, not an EMT. I don’t know what to do!

I do, he said with a bloody hand on her shoulder.

She pressed down, and bit her bottom lip to keep from crying. Seth looked so frail on the floor, blood pooling beneath his head, his limbs limp and unresponsive. She heard Thomas go into the kitchen and speak with Ruth, his voice low and strangely calm, but she couldn’t make out his words. The sweater in her hands was already beginning to feel damp and saturated.

Thomas! she called, desperation cracking her voice. Please, help him!

A door banged closed and soon Father Thomas returned, a cup in one hand, a clean white towel in the other. He knelt beside her. Okay, ease back and let me see the wound.

I can’t. She shook her head; afraid that if she stopped pressing Seth would die. Let’s wait for the ambulance.

No one is coming, he said. He touched her arm and nodded, the look in his eyes so familiar somehow like deja vu. Trust me.

She sucked in a breath and drew back, the sweater still clutched in her hands. The blood flow had slowed somewhat. Father Thomas took the towel he’d brought from the kitchen and poured the contents of the cup into it, then pressed it to the wound. A sound like bacon sizzling in a skillet shocked them both a little. Their eyes met over Seth’s inert body.

What did you do? she asked.

Tola’s diary said to mix two parts alcohol with one part vampire saliva.

She swallowed hard, pushing down a sudden wave of nausea. You just put spit on Seth’s neck?

I don’t know if that’s the technical term, but... yeah, I guess I did. He looked at his watch.

How long?

As long as it takes, he said and closed his eyes.

She assumed he was praying. After all, he was a priest. She was no priest but she’d been praying ever since she saw her uncle lying helpless and bleeding on the wood floor. She never should have let him follow her down the hall. She should have insisted he stay in the front room with Ruth.

It’s not your fault, Jael. Father Thomas was no longer praying, but looking directly at her. You can’t take the responsibility for the mistakes of others. Seth should have kept his distance. He may know the techniques, but he’s yet to actually employ them.

Look who’s talking, Seth mumbled beneath them.

They both looked down.

Seth! You’re alive! Jael put her hand on his forehead as though checking his temperature like her mom always did. He was warm but not unnaturally so.

He groaned and shifted, trying to sit up.

Father Thomas held him down with a restraining hand on his shoulder. Don’t move just yet. Let’s make sure the blood flow has stopped. He gently pulled the towel away from the wound.

Jael’s mouth dropped open. The wound was still an angry red and slightly puckered, but closed up as though it had been healing for a couple of weeks rather than minutes. She expelled a breath. I guess Tola knew what he was talking about.

Father Thomas smiled. No one ever said he didn’t know spit.

They both laughed, relief making the moment much funnier than it actually was.

Mind if I get up now? Seth asked, looking from one of them to the other.

They stood up and Father Thomas held out his hand. Seth grasped it and struggled weakly to his feet. He leaned against the wall, his face ashen even in the dim light of the hallway.

You need to sit down, Uncle Seth.

He didn’t argue.

They helped him to the kitchen where the stove was still plenty warm and Ruth had lit the lanterns. The poor woman sat at the table staring blankly at the closed pantry door as though she were shell-shocked. She didn’t even look up when they shuffled in.

Father Thomas pulled out a chair and Seth collapsed into it, his legs weaker than they’d imagined. He put out a hand to catch himself and the table shook, bringing Ruth’s gaze to rest on him. She noticed the cut on his hand and hurried to wrap a clean cloth around it.

Is he all right? she asked, eyes wide and glassy.

Father Thomas nodded. He will be. Thanks to you.

Excuse me? Jael crossed her arms. What exactly did she do, besides keep me from killing the vamp?

"Exactly." The priest’s look of amusement seemed to be contagious, cause her uncle started laughing and bent over in his chair as though he were too weak to sit up.

She glared at them both. Well, it’s time to kill her now, she said, still angry that the creature had nearly taken her uncle from her forever. She wouldn’t have survived that. She moved toward the pantry door but Ruth stepped in front of her again. You want to get out of my way? I know she was your friend but she’s nobody’s friend anymore. She’d just as soon kill you as look at you.

That’s rather harsh, Jael. You think you could tone it down a little? Her uncle said in that reprimanding voice he used when her parents weren’t around to handle her teenage rebellion. He smiled at Ruth, all soft and soothing. She means well. It’s just that we’ve seen things you can’t even imagine.

I’ve seen things too, Ruth said, standing her ground. She pointed back at the pantry. Carole and me, we both lost our husbands to somethin’ unimaginable, but my son loves that woman in there and I can’t let you take her away from him as well. There must be something we can do to cure her.

Cure her? Jael blew out a laugh. The cure for bloodsuckers is death.

We must save her! She has a baby for heaven’s sake!

Jael shook her head, releasing an exasperated sigh. Here we go again. Another bleeding heart wanting to save something. The problem is, there’s just as many vampires running loose in Minnesota as there are wolves – but vamps are far more deadly and not even close to extinct... yet.

Chapter 2

Carole in the closet

THE FRONT DOOR OPENED and closed with a bang, and they heard the thud of boots on hardwood floors before Abel burst into the kitchen, a look of alarm on his face. "Vhat’s goin’ on? There’s blood all over the floor in there."

Before they could fill him in on the night’s activities, a timid knock sounded from inside the pantry. Abel, a soft voice called, get me out of here. It’s dark and scary.

You locked Carole in the pantry? he asked, pulling the hat from his head and tossing it on the table. What’s wrong with all of you? His mother moved aside and let him pass, but Jael grasped his arm to hold him back.

He tried to tug away. Let me go, he said, his voice desperate, as though understanding the circumstances but refusing the reality.

She’s changed Abel. She nearly killed Seth. You can’t let her out. She’s dangerous. Jael tried to say the words with compassion. She cared about Abel and didn’t want to see him hurt too, but the girl he knew was gone and in her place was a creature of the night. She now knew where the name vamp came from.

You’re wrong! Carole couldn’t hurt a fly. He jerked out of her grasp and grabbed the handle of the door, released the lock and yanked it open.

Jael snatched up the closest weapon within reach – a dirty butter knife at the edge of the sink – and waited for the attack...but Carole didn’t move. She stood still inside the open door, shoulders slumped and hands over her face as though silently weeping. Dried blood crusted her fingers and tinged her nails a rusty brown. The front of her blue dress was darker in spots with the spatter of Seth’s blood. Luckily she hadn’t been wearing a white apron or she would have looked like a model in a Lizzy Borden fashion show.

Carole? Are you all right? he asked, pulling her to him and wrapping her in his strong arms, her bowed head nestled vulnerably against his chest.

Jael tensed, knowing the only one truly vulnerable was her cousin. He was blind to the fact that the woman he loved was too far gone to save. He only saw what he wanted to see – the girl from his childhood, scared and in need of his manliness. Men... their egos were always their Achilles’ heel. She shifted the knife to a comfortable grip.

Father Thomas stepped closer as well. She hadn’t noticed before but he’d brought a little wooden cross with him. It was about five inches tall and intricately carved in a dark redwood. He held it up now as though it were vampire kryptonite. He eyed the knife in Jael’s hand and shook his head, mouthing don’t kill her.

Exasperation oozed from Jael’s every pore. The priest didn’t want her to kill the vamp either? What was going on? How was she supposed to do her job and save the community from this infestation if nobody would let her destroy the creatures?

Suddenly Carole snarled and raised her head, eyes red as the blood she’d recently spilled. Her mouth opened in a grimace as though she were going to sneeze, but instead, teeth bared, she went for Abel’s neck.

Unable to reach Carole easily around Abel’s solid frame, Jael dove for his legs, knocking them out from under him. He buckled and went down. Carole stumbled but caught herself and leaned over Abel with hungry, malevolent eyes, ready to pounce. Jael rushed the vamp and shoved her back into the pantry. Canned food crashed to the floor as they collided with the rear shelves, wrestling for the upper hand. Hanging herbs, dried and fragrant, brushed her face when she dodged to avoid the woman’s angry swing and sharp nails. Garlic. If only it were the vampire repellant Mr. Stoker purported it to be. She could use something to ward off evil right about now. She spun and kicked, knocking Carole against the wall. A jar of pickles crashed to the floor, smashing into a mess of glass shards, juice and dill.

Father Thomas followed them into the small space, blocking Abel from entering Stay back! he ordered. He raised the cross and the young woman backed into the corner and snarled up at Jael.

You really think that’s going to keep her in here? Jael asked, raising her brows.

The priest moved the cross within inches of Carole’s pale cheek. She hissed and turned away, looking as though she would climb the walls before she would let that piece of wood touch her skin. Perhaps, he said, but only if I’m willing to hold it here forever, and I’m afraid that no matter how good of shape I’m in, eventually my arm will tire.

Thanks for stating the obvious, oh wise one. Seth had moved into the doorway. I think what we need to do is empty this room out so the poor creature can have a little solitude. She seems angry. And I’m sure Ruth wouldn’t want to go through this trouble every time she needs a can of beans or a bag of flour.

Jael rolled her eyes.

You can’t just leave her in there! Abel yelled.

Abel, sit down, Ruth said, her voice soft and placating. You’re not helpin’ matters. These folks are tryin’ to save Carole. You see what she’s become. We can’t help her anymore. Let them be.

I can’t! She’s my life, Mam. I can’t lose her.

Jael heard Ruth soothing Abel with more tender words and pleas. She hated the fact that she would have to be the one to break his heart. False promises and hope would not save this girl. She’d been bitten by evil.

Carole suddenly changed again. Her face relaxed, appearing nearly as innocent as a young child. She was only nineteen, after all. It wasn’t that big of a stretch... except that she was rapidly spiraling into Monsterville and there was no escape. Tears filled her eyes, now blue again. "Vhat’s happening to me? Abel! she called out, trying to see past her captors into the kitchen for a glimpse of his familiar, loving face. Abel, don’t let them lock me in here. You know how I hate tight spaces. I’ll do whatever they want. Just let me out." She covered her face with both hands and wept, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Jael bit her lip and tried not to care, but she felt as though the last vestige of the woman’s soul was crying out for salvation. How could she put a stake through the heart of someone still clinging to humanity? She couldn’t do it. When Carole was attacking Seth, that was different, but now she was just a frightened young woman.

What are we doing here? Jael asked, shaking her head. Either she’s undead or she’s not. She waved a hand at the weeping woman. What’s this about? How does this even happen? This is not what I signed up for.

Father Thomas slanted her a glance and his lips lifted in a grim smile. You aren’t in the Army, Jael. There isn’t a whole battalion of men to pick up the slack if you quit now. You are the Chosen One. Singular. One of a kind. You could quit, but then they win.

Looks like they’re winning anyway. How many more people have to lose loved ones? I can’t fight them all. And this... She sighed and looked away, Nobody said anything about watching them change and not being able to do anything.

Carole crumpled into the corner, and pulled her knees close to her chest. Her crying was starting to sound angry and Jael felt a mood swing coming on. She prepared for another attack but the woman remained huddled on the floor, refusing to look up at the priest holding the cross over her head.

Seth leaned on the doorframe, weak and pale. He shivered uncontrollably in spite of the long-sleeved shirt he wore. I have what you need in my car. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.

Where would we go? she called after him, wondering what in the world he was up to. He didn’t look in any shape to cross the kitchen, much less walk out to his car alone. She stepped to the doorway and watched him leave. He moved slowly on shaky legs.

Abel sat at the table, his head down on folded arms as though he couldn’t bear to see what was going on around him. His mother hovered beside him, one hand on his shoulder, her eyes fixed on the pantry door.

Abel, Jael said, could you follow Seth and make sure he doesn’t fall down? He lost a lot of blood.

Ruth patted his shoulder, urging him up. Jah. Go help the man. You’ll feel better if you have somethin’ to do.

He slowly scooted back from the table and went out as though on auto-pilot.

Thanks, Ruth.

The woman shrugged and turned to put the kettle on the stove. He needs to be busy. So do I. Would you like a cup of tea? she asked as though that would fix everything.

Sure. Sounds great. Jael moved back into the pantry and met Father Thomas’ eyes. He was actually smiling, although not unkindly but with understanding and compassion. Obviously he’d dealt with people who used tea as a stress reliever.

Moments later, Seth and Abel returned. Abel had his arm around her uncle and was practically walking for him, but Seth carried a Ziplock bag in his hand and a triumphant grin on his face. He held out the bag toward Jael. Cable ties. They make great handcuffs.

Really. Hmm. She opened the bag and pulled out two long strips. You play policeman a lot? she asked with raised brows.

Ha ha. Now tie her up so I can quit worrying she’ll go for my jugular again.

Abel cringed at the insinuation that the woman he loved was capable of such violence. He turned away, unable to watch. Jael shooed her uncle from the doorway and prepared herself for battle.

Carole, are you still with us? Father Thomas asked, his voice softly soothing, as though he were speaking to a sleeping child. We need you to cooperate if you want us to help you.

Were they giving empty promises to vampires now? Jael watched the priest kneel beside the woman and carefully touch her arm. She didn’t respond, other than to let him move her hands, palms together. Jael cautiously approached.

She bound Carole’s wrists and pulled the strip tight. Then she did the same with her ankles. Do you think this will hold her? she asked.

Father Thomas stood up, holding the cross down at his side. For now.

They cleaned up the broken pickle jar, throwing the glass in a handy milk bucket and set it out in the kitchen. They would need to clear out the rest of the jars to make it a vampire weapon-free zone. After all, the half woman/half vamp had nearly killed Seth with a little piece of her husband’s broken shaving mirror.

Now she lay bound and curled into a ball of hopelessness.

Why are we doing this exactly? Jael asked. I mean, you don’t really think there is a cure for vampirism, do you?

The way Father Thomas looked at her with a touch of exasperation mingled with profound patience, reminded her of her dreams of Tola –the ever-present trainer unable to let a teachable moment slip by without words of wisdom. She almost regretted asking. Except she really wanted to know.

They moved out of the pantry, but left the door open this time so they could keep an eye on the woman. Thomas didn’t respond immediately. He took the cup of steaming tea Ruth held out toward him.

Just because he has Tola’s book doesn’t mean he knows any more than we do, Jael. Her uncle sat in a chair close to the woodstove now, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Obviously, Ruth was a natural born caregiver and he was basking in the attention. Vampires usually suck a victim dry. They die and then wake up undead. In a case like this, from what I’ve gleaned from my contacts online, sometimes a vampire plays with a victim like a toddler with Brussel sprouts. They’re naturally vengeful creatures.

She glanced at Thomas. Is he right? Someone is just playing with their food?

It’s my fault. Abel burst out. He stood outside the pantry and stared in, his mouth twisted with guilt. I did this to her.

Abel... Jael began.

I’m telling you... he shoved his fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead, the Bishop is getting back at me for running away and for not joining his little flock of followers.

I don’t think this is about...

You’re probably right, Abel, Father Thomas interrupted.  He set his cup down on the table. The Bishop has been using this type of ploy to keep people in line for hundreds of years. He finds out where you are most vulnerable and he twists the knife.

Jah. He knew that I loved Carole even before she married Josiah. In fact, he pushed Josiah to marry her. His eyes burned with righteous anger and revenge.