“I’ll pay you more—.”
“No,” Gerard insisted. “Compel her to be obedient. I can’t promise anything unless you do.”
“All right,” Kier said and came to my side. He sat beside me and took my face in his hands, looking in my eyes, his expression very serious and stern. Since
Gerard was standing behind him, he couldn't see Kier’s face when Kier raised his eyebrows suggestively.
“Now, Calla,” he said, his voice firm. “You’re to obey Gerard. No disobedience. He is not going to touch you or drink your blood or give you to anyone else, so you must obey him until I return. Do you understand?”
I didn't feel compelled, but I thought he intended me to pretend, so I didn't hesitate.
“I understand,” I said, keeping my voice flat.
“Good girl,” he said and smiled briefly. “No disobedience. Watch out for Chelsea and look after her. I hope I’ll be able to see you again, and I’m so sorry this happened. I never meant for any of this to take place.”
I heard the regret in his voice.
“I know,” I said softly and at that moment, what I wanted most was to kiss him once before we go, so I did. I leaned closer to him and I didn't care if Gerard or Chelsea were watching. I kissed Kier on the mouth, and as I closed my eyes, I saw that his were wide open in surprise.
When the kiss ended, he pulled back and stroked my cheek.
"Sweet Calla. How sorry I am that I ever met you, and yet, how glad as well. Thank you for everything. I'll do everything in my power to get both you and Chelsea back home safe."
"I know," I said, tears in my eyes despite everything.
Kier
We drove through the deserted streets to a highway bordering the ocean. I’d been shot, the silver bullet preventing me from fighting back. I was losing blood, my strength seeping out of me with each passing moment. My hands were shackled behind my back and I couldn’t move. A sign beside the road read Wakonda Beach State Airport. Soon, the vehicle left Waldport city limits and drove on the deserted road.
Helpless, I lay in silence and glanced out the window. The moon was almost setting by the time we reached the airport a couple of miles outside of town. It cast an eerie light over the runway and hangar.
"Here we are," Gerard said. "I have a private plane from your brother. We'll fly to Montreal and he'll deal with you. I don't want any resistance on the trip or our deal will be off."
I nodded. "I won't fight you. Neither will Calla or Chelsea. Isn't that right?"
I turned to them and both Chelsea and Calla nodded. Calla had understood my intent when I didn’t compel her completely. She would pretend to be under my control, and would remain that way as long as she was obedient and didn’t show any resistance. If she did, I’d have to compel her in truth. I wanted to afford her as much freedom as possible.
We drove up to the building and the soldiers dragged the three of us out of the vehicles, before loading us unceremoniously into a small airplane. I was unfamiliar with the design, and marveled that the technology had improved so much that mortals could actually fly. Of course, there had been zeppelins in use before I had been imprisoned, but not this kind of machine.
There wasn’t much room, and so Calla and I were seated together in one row and Chelsea was placed in the row behind us.
"My hands hurt," Calla said quietly. "Can I have them moved to the front?"
Gerard looked at her closely, then nodded. He gestured to one of the soldiers, who came to Calla and removed the old restraints, allowing her to rub her wrists. She placed them in front of her and he put new restraints.
The men who held us had special weapons armed with silver bullets. Gerard loaded his weapon, holding up each bullet, the smooth metal catching the light of the moon as he clicked it into the weapon’s magazine clip.
“This is insurance," he said, eyeing me with a slight grin on his lips. "When the time comes, you cooperate or I’ll have to put another one of these inside of you."
I said nothing in reply. I was still bleeding, a dark stain spreading out from the bullet wounds in my chest. I seemed became weaker by the moment, and was barely able to hold myself up. Finally, I slumped in my seat. My eyes closed tightly as a wave of pain swept through me.
“You’re really bleeding,” Calla said in shock. “I didn’t think vampires could bleed. I thought you said vampires are undying. Can you die?”
“Damn hard to kill us,” I managed between teeth gritted from pain. “Silver weakens us, prevents us from healing. Beheading kills us as does the sunlight and fire. I won’t die, but I’ll wish I could. I’ll be too weak to do anything until I get more blood.”
“Keep quiet,” Gerard said. He knocked me on the side of the head with the muzzle of his weapon. I blinked, the pain almost blinding.
“He’s bleeding,” Calla said in protest.