She slid her key into the lock and eased the door open, trying to make as little noise as possible so she didn’t wake him if he was asleep. He needed his rest. If she woke him, he would spend hours questioning her, and he might even argue with her. She didn’t want that. She had argued enough for one night.
She silently closed the door behind her, removed her boots and socks, and padded barefoot across the living room, heading to her left past the kitchen towards her room. Guillem’s room was beside hers, their beds stood against the same wall, but not their bathrooms. Hopefully, she wouldn’t wake him as she washed the grime of battle off her.
She needed a long, hot soak.
Her bedroom door creaked softly as she opened it and she flinched. Waited, holding her breath. No sign of her brother came from the other room. She breathed a sigh of relief and stepped into her room, went straight to the bathroom on her left, and stripped off her jacket.
Long grooves darted across her chest near her left collarbone, and she frowned as she inspected them. They were already healing. She didn’t remember any of the vampires landing a blow on her, but then in the heat of battle she rarely noticed her injuries. The sting of them didn’t register at the time and everything happened so fast when fighting vampires. All of her focus was on surviving. It was only in the quiet aftermath that she grew aware of any bruises and cuts, and how close she had danced to death.
Her legs turned to noodles beneath her and she gripped the sink on the vanity unit, clutching it for support as she breathed through the crushing wave of panic. She was alive. She was fine. She cursed herself, how things always went like this even though she did her best to grow stronger, to overcome the debilitating onslaught of feelings that happened whenever she was home safe after a hunt.
Nothing she did stopped it from happening.
She stripped off the rest of her clothes, closed her bathroom door and stepped into the shower cubicle.
Caterina hissed in a breath as she switched on the water and a frigid blast of spray hit her. She shrank back, waiting for it to warm, holding herself as she willed it to hurry. She needed the soothing heat of the shower to wash away her burgeoning fear. It was ridiculous to feel it now, when she was safely locked in her apartment and the vampires were dead, but it always surged through her, a delayed reaction to the battle that she couldn’t hold back.
The water heated and she stepped beneath the jet, tipped her head back and closed her eyes as she let it hit her face. A sigh escaped her as the hot water ran over her face and down her shoulders, stinging the cuts on her chest and the one she had made on her arm. The fear swelling inside her reached a crescendo and she let it come, let it wash over her just as the water did and let the water carry it away.
Time slowed as her entire world narrowed down to just breathing. In. Out. She was safe. The vampires were dead. The hunt would continue and for once she wouldn’t be alone out there, walking the dark streets, fighting to keep them safe and to save her brother.
The warrior would be with her.
A soft knock at the door shattered the image of him building in her mind.
“Caterina?” Guillem’s gentle voice rolled over her like the water to carry away her fear. He sounded stronger today. Had he been able to get some rest? Or were his spirits on the rise again? She hoped it was both. She hated seeing him so worn down and tired all the time. He rapped his knuckles against the door again. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she hollered over the noise of the shower. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
Because she needed to see him, needed to see he was doing better tonight, and wanted to tell him about the warrior.
About the hope she had.
She shut the water off, stepped out of the shower and grabbed her dove-grey robe from the back of the door. She hastily donned it and tied the belt around her waist, cinching it tightly before she opened the door.
Guillem wasn’t there.
Caterina snagged a towel and rubbed her hair with it as she walked through her bedroom to the main living area.
Guillem lounged on the couch, his black jeans and faded grey T-shirt baggy on his ravaged frame now when once they had fitted him perfectly. Her throat closed, eyes stinging as she looked at him, as he turned his head towards her and smiled at her over the back of the brown leather couch.
That smile didn’t reach his hazel eyes.
They had been bright once, like hers. Now they were dull, constantly laced with fatigue and pain.
Fatigue and pain that she wanted to take away.
Would take away.
She took the seat beside him on his right as he flicked channels, twisted to face him and brushed her fingers through his dark hair, sweeping the overlong strands of it from his face. She would have to trim it for him soon. If she left him to his own devices, it would be down to his backside by now. He needed to take better care of himself.
“I met someone tonight… and I think he can help.” She paused with her fingers against the side of his head as he finally looked at her again, taking his eyes off the screen of the television to her right.
“He?” Guillem’s face darkened and the tightness in her throat increased as she saw a shadow of her brother, of the way things had been before he had been turned.
He never had liked her talking about men.
His need to protect her ran as deep in his blood as her need to protect him.
“He knows vampires. I took out a nest of them with his help.” She left out a few details, like the fact the warrior had saved her. Guillem didn’t need to know how close she had come to losing her life tonight. She had made the mistake of telling him everything in the early days and it had always upset him, and led to arguments.
He didn’t want her to go hunting vampires for his sake.
She didn’t care. She had to do it. For him.
“I’m going to meet him again tomorrow night to hunt some that got away. I’ll question him while we look for them. I really think he can help, Guillem.” She brushed another rogue strand of dark hair from his face. It had been as light as hers once, kissed by the sun. Now it was verging on black.
The result of his sickness?
She had never heard of it changing the colour of a vampire’s hair, but then she hadn’t exactly stopped to question any of the ones she had slain to find out all the details about their transformations. It was possible their hair changed colour, darkening to suit a creature of the night. Maybe the rest of them dyed their hair.
Maybe Guillem’s was because he had never fed.
The same reason he was weakening, slowly fading as the years went on without her finding a cure for him. How much longer did he have before her inability to save him ended up killing him?
She shook that question away, because if she thought about it, the hope she was trying to hold on to would fade just as he was and she would slip back into depression. It was a daily struggle to keep that dark beast from her door. She wouldn’t surrender to it again.
Guillem needed her out on the streets, searching for his sire so she could kill it, not holed up in her room, trapped in her bed by a crippling disease.
“I don’t like the idea of you meeting with this man again. Who is he?” Guillem’s eyes narrowed, the dullness finally leaving them as a flicker of fire lit them. It had been so long since she had seen anything other than resignation in his eyes that she wanted to cry. She squashed that urge and took hold of his hand, running her fingers over the bony back to soothe him. It didn’t smooth the sharp edge from his voice as he frowned at her. “Is he a vampire?”