Vol. 1; Issue 18
by Denise
Lillian threw the note down in disgust. Obviously male chauvinism extended to vampires, and Damien’s certainty of his “seeding” shook off any remaining effects of his seductions.
She plopped down on the bed to think, clutching the rifle tightly like it was a lifeline. She realized with a wry smile that it really was her life line. The last remaining bullet and the gun were the only things she had that could possibly pull her out of this mess, only her delivery of the items was no longer in the form of a package. No, it had to be delivered with the same sniper-precision that had killed Rutherford and his driver.
Rutherford. Her heart skipped a beat, as she remembered their last moments together and his blood she’d only a just recently wiped from her hands. He had tried to save her, and instead she was in a worse place than ever before.
She then remembered his briefcase and once again wondered why he had been so insistent that she take it. Perhaps it contained something that would give her some direction. She hoped it did, at least.
Reaching for a robe that had fallen to the floor from the bed, she wrapped her naked body tightly as she went to find the briefcase. She had to find out. It was all she had at this point.
Picking it up, she stared at the offending combination lock. She felt she knew Rutherford well, but she doubted anyone really knew him well enough to know what he’d use as any password or combination. He kept a lot of his life private, and she couldn’t begin to fathom the secrets he took with him in his death.
Somehow, though, in his dying breaths he seemed to think she could figure it out. His birthday was too obvious. As was hers, for that matter.
“Maybe I should just shoot it open,” she said to herself. However, she figured another gunshot from the apartment would raise any eyebrows that had let the last one go un-investigated. Plus, she didn’t dare chance destroying whatever was inside, assuming it wasn’t bullet proof.
“Think, Lillian. THINK,” she chanted to herself. She could almost feel her sister being pulled from her life as the wall clock’s second hand clicked loudly in the quiet apartment.
Life had been so much simpler only a few days before. Alabama could have been on another continent at this point, and she knew already that there would be no fully going back to life as it was.
Alabama. As if watching a movie, scenes from her one night of passion with Rutherford right after she’d moved to start her new life flashed before her mind’s eye. It was the only night they’d ever spent together from beginning to end. She had cooked them dinner, away from any prying eyes of her new town. Instead of dessert, they’d made slow, gentle love, and she drifted into a peaceful, deep slumber wrapped in his arms.
“Promise me you will never forget this date,” he had whispered in her ear as he left. “It’s important. Never forget.”
And she hadn’t. May 23rd. The day had started with the most gorgeous sunrise. The rays of sun beckoned him from her bed. It ended with a steady rainfall.
She always felt that day had mimicked her mood. She’d spent most of it on a high from the night before, but as night fell, she too fell into a deep sadness. She had no idea when/if she’d see Rutherford again. She certainly didn’t know then that the next time would be the last time.
She moved the combination to 5-2-3. It was a long shot, she knew, but it was all she could think of trying. Licking her lips and holding her breath, she pushed on the latch. She was shocked when it clicked open smoothly. She didn’t know if she should laugh or cry in that moment. It had been a long-shot, but it worked. Rutherford had given her the answer so long ago, in another life and in a happier time.
As she opened the briefcase and shuffled through the papers inside, her eyes grew wide. Scribbled on a sheet of paper was a familiar name, with an address and phone number. It was the key that would unlock this whole mess.
She had found her father.
AWESOME!!!!