It was no surprise that Aunt Cassidy was already sitting in her living room by the time Brandon found a parking spot in an inconspicuous location a few blocks away from Jo’s apartment building. Cassidy had no doubt parked in Jo’s parking spot in the garage at the rear of the building whereas the three of them were forced to traipse through the streets a good distance. They’d been hampered by the fact that they had to walk like regular people, rather than the superbeings they were. Although, if anyone peeking through the windows wanted to look carefully enough, they might notice there was something different about their weapons. Not that everyone wasn’t armed these days. Humans tried to protect themselves from Vampires, since it was okay to kill them if they attacked. Vampires didn’t need guns but they often carried them anyway. And then there were people like Jo and her family who would be taken in without question the second law enforcement of the Vampire brigade caught up to them. If they could take them. Which meant the weapons they carried had to be of a higher caliber, more deadly, and able to kill anything they might encounter--alive or undead.
Cadon crossed into the living room as Jo removed her belt and tossed it on the table by the door. She still had a smaller Glock strapped to her calf, just in case, but she didn’t carry her weapons around her apartment most of the time, save the smaller handgun she’d use in emergencies, not that she’d had one yet.
It was a shithole, but it worked. At one time, this part of Denver had been pretty nice, but after most of the people headed east, thinking the government could somehow protect them better if they weren’t out in the wild west, or something of that nature, things had gone downhill. Then, the raids had really picked up, and now, what had once been a bustling city was full of crackheads, Vampires, and little else. There were still enough people out here that Jo could blend in at the grocery store, when she made herself go there, but for the most part, no one who could leave was still out in this no man’s land that stretched from the middle of Kansas to the California border, the length of the country and even slightly into Canada and Mexico, which had their own problems.
“Make yourself at home,” Jo chided, eyeing her aunt’s boots propped up on the coffee table. Her brother plopped down next to Cassidy, chewing on a Hot Pocket. Jo just shook her head at him. Whatever it was this crew wanted, they better make it known shortly and be on their way. At least they hadn’t brought Scott with them.
“I see you’re still up to your old ways,” Elliott said, walking over to the old brown recliner Jo had salvaged out of a dumpster a few weeks ago but not sitting in it. She couldn’t blame him. Brandon was also still standing, though he’d moved to a position behind his wife, his arms folded as his expression indicated he wasn’t any happier with Jo than the others.
“Someone has to be,” she muttered, deciding she may as well be comfortable, too. She took off her black leather jacket, tossed it onto a coat rack near the door, and then settled into a chair across from where Elliott was standing. This one was also a salvaged piece, but it was in better shape--and didn’t smell like cat piss.
“Listen, Jo, something important’s happened, and we need to tell you about it. We need you to actually pretend like you give a shit about this family for a few minutes, okay?” Cadon said.
Jo eyed her brother, wondering how a person could down a Hot Pocket in three bites. He didn’t even appear to have food in his mouth while he was talking. Her first thought was he took after Uncle Elliott’s side of the family, but then she remembered they weren’t related by blood. She shook her head. “Whose gotten themselves locked up now?”
“That’s not why we’re here,” Cassidy said, her tone somehow rolling its eyes. “We all know you don’t care about that.”
“Right? When was the last time you went to see Roar?” Cadon probed.
“Hey, one guilt trip at a time, jackass!” Jo kicked the coffee table forward and sent it careening into the cat piss chair. Both pieces of furniture moved backward far enough to butt up against Elliott. He looked at the chair, at Jo, and then cleared his voice.
“Jo, if you don’t want in on what we’re about to tell you, fine, but please stop acting like a five-year-old. You’re too good for that.”
She narrowed her eyes, swearing that if he dared mention her “mother would be disappointed” or some other bullshit, she’d put that Blue Moon Portal theory to the test. “What. Is. It?”
They all exchanged glances as if they were trying to determine who would tell her. Finally, it was Cadon who opened his mouth next. His voice was steady and strong as he spoke. “We know for sure what started the Revelation now. It was her. She’s definitely back.”
Jo swallowed hard, not sure she could believe her ears. If what he was saying was true…. She shook her head. “How do you know? Is this another one of Henry’s stupid ass theories?”
“No,” Elliott assured her. “Not Christian Henry’s. And not a theory. She’s been spotted. Positively identified. For certain.”
“By who?” She still couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t possibly be true. “Someone who has seen her with their own eyes?”
“Yeah.” Cass seemed more than certain.
She flitted through who was left, who had actually seen the bitch before. Most of the ones that were still around were in this room. The rest were either dead, locked up, working for the enemy… or missing. Of course, like herself, Cadon hadn’t ever had the pleasure of meeting the psycho--yet. Shaking her head and unable to come up with an answer, Jo asked, “Who? One of you?”
“No,” Elliott said again. Jo stared at him, waiting, begging him with her large eyes, the ones he said were hauntingly familiar, to just freaking tell her already. Elliott swallowed. “Jo, we’re sure it’s her. No one could positively identify her better than the person who saw her. Because… it was… your dad.”
Jo’s mouth gaped open, and she was certain her eyes were wide enough to resemble dinner plates. Elliott’s words hovered around her mind for a few seconds before they slowly began to sink in, and her mouth managed to connect. “Dad… he’s… back?” She shook her head, still trying to process. “How long? He never called me.”“Maybe that’s because the last time you spoke to him, you said you hated him and if he ever tried to find you, you’d pull out the special titanium bullet you’ve been saving.” Cassidy’s glare was so intense, Jo could feel it on the back of her skull.She swallowed hard, not needing her aunt’s verbal reminder of what had transpired between herself and the Guardian Leader the last time they’d spoken. Words were exchanged…. Blame was placed…. She’d thought about calling not that long afterward and apolog
Crying was the one thing Jo hated almost as much as Vampires, so she didn’t let herself sob for too long before she broke into a mental pep talk and went to the kitchen to grab a leftover napkin from takeout and blew her nose. “This is stupid,” she muttered, wadding the flimsy paper into a ball and tossing it into the overflowing trash can in the kitchen. “I can’t let those shitheads walk into my house and make me feel bad for something none of them can ever understand.”She drummed her fingernails on the chipped Formica counter and contemplated what to do. She wished a stiff drink would do her some good, but it had been a long time since alcohol or anything else had an effect on her--not that that had kept her from trying. Before she Transformed at seventeen, she’d done more drinking and smoking than most kids her age--all behind her parents’ back, which had been hard because her dad always seemed to know
A knock on her door had Jo pulling her head out of the past and back to the reality of her cruddy Denver apartment. Zane had sounded groggy on the phone, like maybe he had actually been sleeping for once, a rarity. Or maybe it was just that smolder he had about him amplified by her desperation to speak to someone she trusted. Either way, when she opened the door and saw him standing there, his brown hair falling over his eyes, one hand stretched behind his head, showing the ripple in his bicep, all the feelings she thought she’d sent packing months ago came roaring back in one heated hormonal ball that settled in her pelvis like a grenade without a pin.“Hey,” he said, dropping his hand and sticking it in the pocket of his worn jeans. “You okay?”“Peachy,” Jo replied, leaving the door open for him and returning to her couch. A cloud of dust enveloped her as she plopped down on it. Zane closed th
Jo brought her bike to a stop next to the SUV a few minutes before 8:00. Everything worth bringing with her was in the backpack strapped to her back, or in one of the many holsters she had hidden on her person--at least she hoped they were hidden. She hadn’t gotten too many questioning looks on her ride over, but then, there weren’t many people up this time of day either. When you had to stay up most of the night to make sure you weren’t some monster’s late night snack, you tended to sleep in.No one was stirring near the SUV, which looked more beat up in the daylight than it had the night before. She walked around it, wondering where the rest of the family might be and noticed a few dents on the driver’s side that could’ve been popped back into place easy enough. She vaguely remembered the days of Lamborghinis and jet planes but didn’t let her mind stay there too long. There was no use thinking about what used t
It didn’t take too long before someone wanted an explanation, one Jo wasn’t willing to give. So the questions went directly to Zane. It wasn’t a surprise at all that it was her dear brother asking the questions.“So… Zane… are you related to Kian O’Braonian?” Cadon asked once they were about twenty-five miles outside of the Denver city limits, and they’d pulled over so Elliott could drive, something he almost always insisted on. Jo and Zane were sitting in the way back now, Brandon and Cass in the middle, and her brother had to swivel almost completely around in a semi-circle from the front passenger seat to direct his question to the Guardian in the back row.“I am,” Zane said, a questioning lilt to his voice. “He was my grandfather.”“Interesting,” Cadon said, and Elliott looked away from the road long enough to give his so-ca
Stanstead was a quaint little town near the Quebec-Vermont border, just the sort of place one might expect to see on a 1950s television program, even though technically the town didn’t come into existence until two others were merged in 1995. Still, as the SUV rolled along nice suburban streets, lined with green hedges and white fences, it was easy to forget they were in the middle of a war.Not here, however. Not in Canada. Jo pushed her hair back behind her ear, trying to concentrate on anything other than seeing her dad for the first time in years, including remembering how ugly it had gotten between the US and Canada when the northern neighbor declared Vampires unwelcome within the borders. Many Americans had called them racist, said it was another Holocaust all over again. Jo remembered her dad sending as many LIGHTS members as he could find from other parts of the world that weren’t either in crisis like they were in the US or under a s
Jo’s heart was beating out of her chest as she stepped past her grandmother and walked toward her father. He didn’t move, only stood there with his hands on his hips, his head dipped slightly, as if he were searching for words or struggling with emotions. He looked thinner than he had the last time she saw him, maybe even a little gaunt in the face, like instead of eating once or twice a week like he usually did, he wasn’t eating at all. Had she done that to him? Or was it the weight of everything else?About two feet in front of him, she stopped, his eyes locking on to hers as she fought to put a sentence together. When her lips parted, she only got the first syllable of “Hello” out before his strong arms were around her, pulling her close and holding her tight like he had when she was a little girl with a scraped knee or a bad dream. Jo stood still, a petrified tree, for a few moments before the surprise wore off enough fo
Grandpa Eli’s study was always well organized and neat. Jo could remember seeing him sitting in here reading when she was younger, after he’d retired, and they’d moved to escape the chaos in the US. She couldn’t imagine he used it for much of anything these days since his memory had gotten so bad. When she followed her dad into the room, it was evident Aaron had done some unnecessary straightening and that all of his own belongings on the desk were in precisely the spot he wanted them in. Jo almost laughed--some things never changed--but enough things did change that it wasn’t funny anymore, and she felt silly for evening forgetting for a second how the world was all messed up now.Her dad didn’t go around the desk and sit in the plush swivel chair on the other side. Instead, he took a seat on the small leather sofa her grandpa had over by the window. Grandpa Eli had said the room needed more seating so he could have v