Cain's Identity
Page 97
“Shit.” He looked at Haven. “You’ll have to stay here. I need the jacket for Faye.”
Cain pulled on the hoodie, snatched the jacket, and slipped the gloves on while already running into the cemetery, his eyes searching for John’s SUV. But it hadn’t arrived yet. Cain barreled down the main path. He hadn’t been here in decades, but he remembered the location of his family crypt well.
The crypt, which looked like a small chapel from the outside, stood at the far end of the cemetery, its walls a good twelve feet high and surrounded by a cast iron gate to prevent vandals from defacing the stones.
Faye, I’m here.
Her response came a moment later. Hurry, the sun, I can sense it rising.
Every vampire had that same sense, a survival instinct. It sent a warning signal through Cain’s body now, letting him know that in a moment the sun would breach the horizon and the first rays would turn night into day.
Watch out! Abel is close.
Faye’s warning came just in time. The sound of a motorcycle’s engine revving up came from behind the crypt. Cain’s head whirled to it and he saw a dark figure on the bike, navigating through the tight path between the Montague crypt and the grave on its left. Cain charged into the path of the motorcycle, facing it head-on as the rider, whose face was hidden behind a helmet, tried to get past him.
Cain reached for the handlebar and jerked it to the side, making the bike lose its footing on the gravel beneath its wheels. While the bike’s front wheel slammed against Cain’s leg, pushing him to the ground, the biker hurtled toward him, landing on Cain’s chest.
Despite the disguise, Cain could identify his brother’s aura.
Cain blocked his brother’s first strike with his forearm, then kicked him off and rolled to the side, jumping to his feet in the same movement. He whirled to face him, but Abel had jumped up just as quickly. He’d always been agile. Cain charged at him, tackling him and slamming him against the wrought iron fence surrounding the crypt. The iron moaned under the impact, giving a little.
Abel grunted and fought back, his fists flying at Cain’s unprotected face, knocking his head sideways and making his vertebrae crack audibly. Abel used the time this bought him to push himself away from the fence. But Cain caught himself quickly and landed an uppercut underneath Abel’s chin, the only portion of his head that wasn’t protected by his helmet.
Abel’s head whipped back for only an instant, Cain’s blow having done no damage. Furious, Cain aimed at his brother’s neck, but the gloves impeded his claws from slicing into the part of Abel’s flesh that was exposed. His upper body was protected too well. The heavy Kevlar vest was practically impenetrable.
Cain reached for the knife on his belt when a blow to his shoulder ripped him to the side. A ray of sun hit his face that instant and made him cry out in pain. Whirling back to Abel and turning his back to the rising sun, he finally gripped his knife and pulled it from its sheath. He aimed low.
While his knife drove into Abel’s thigh, his brother ripped the hoodie off Cain’s head, exposing it to the sun. He felt the heat as if somebody was aiming a flamethrower at him.
The scent of Abel’s blood and Cain’s burning hair mingled. Clenching his jaw, Cain’s hand jerked up, trying to drive the knife underneath Abel’s chin, but his brother’s arm blocked him just before it reached its target.
Cain! The sun! Help me!
Faye’s mental cry for help pierced his head.
“Nooooo!” he cried out.
A second later, Abel’s fist knocked the knife from Cain’s hand.
“Help me! Cain!” Faye’s muffled cry now came from the crypt.
He had no choice. He had to save Faye. Abel knew it, too, if the evil laugh behind his helmet was anything to go by.
Killing his brother would have to wait. Cain freed himself from his brother’s grip and raced past him, vaulting himself over the iron gate.
The lock on the crypt was broken. He pushed it open and charged into the interior. Light was already entering from the hole in the side of the building that faced east. It hit the many mirrors lined along the walls of the crypt.
“Faye!”
Faye lay on a stone slab in the middle of it, trying to twist away from the rays of the sun already hitting her. But the chains around her wrists and ankles prevented her from moving.
Her gaze shot to him. “Cain!” Tears streamed down her face and pain was evident in her features.
“Oh, God, no!”
Rushing toward her, he noticed to his horror that in his fight with Abel he’d lost the jacket he’d brought for her. He had nothing to cover her with. He pulled his dark hoodie off and threw it over her, covering her face and upper torso as best he could.
Cain pulled on the hoodie, snatched the jacket, and slipped the gloves on while already running into the cemetery, his eyes searching for John’s SUV. But it hadn’t arrived yet. Cain barreled down the main path. He hadn’t been here in decades, but he remembered the location of his family crypt well.
The crypt, which looked like a small chapel from the outside, stood at the far end of the cemetery, its walls a good twelve feet high and surrounded by a cast iron gate to prevent vandals from defacing the stones.
Faye, I’m here.
Her response came a moment later. Hurry, the sun, I can sense it rising.
Every vampire had that same sense, a survival instinct. It sent a warning signal through Cain’s body now, letting him know that in a moment the sun would breach the horizon and the first rays would turn night into day.
Watch out! Abel is close.
Faye’s warning came just in time. The sound of a motorcycle’s engine revving up came from behind the crypt. Cain’s head whirled to it and he saw a dark figure on the bike, navigating through the tight path between the Montague crypt and the grave on its left. Cain charged into the path of the motorcycle, facing it head-on as the rider, whose face was hidden behind a helmet, tried to get past him.
Cain reached for the handlebar and jerked it to the side, making the bike lose its footing on the gravel beneath its wheels. While the bike’s front wheel slammed against Cain’s leg, pushing him to the ground, the biker hurtled toward him, landing on Cain’s chest.
Despite the disguise, Cain could identify his brother’s aura.
Cain blocked his brother’s first strike with his forearm, then kicked him off and rolled to the side, jumping to his feet in the same movement. He whirled to face him, but Abel had jumped up just as quickly. He’d always been agile. Cain charged at him, tackling him and slamming him against the wrought iron fence surrounding the crypt. The iron moaned under the impact, giving a little.
Abel grunted and fought back, his fists flying at Cain’s unprotected face, knocking his head sideways and making his vertebrae crack audibly. Abel used the time this bought him to push himself away from the fence. But Cain caught himself quickly and landed an uppercut underneath Abel’s chin, the only portion of his head that wasn’t protected by his helmet.
Abel’s head whipped back for only an instant, Cain’s blow having done no damage. Furious, Cain aimed at his brother’s neck, but the gloves impeded his claws from slicing into the part of Abel’s flesh that was exposed. His upper body was protected too well. The heavy Kevlar vest was practically impenetrable.
Cain reached for the knife on his belt when a blow to his shoulder ripped him to the side. A ray of sun hit his face that instant and made him cry out in pain. Whirling back to Abel and turning his back to the rising sun, he finally gripped his knife and pulled it from its sheath. He aimed low.
While his knife drove into Abel’s thigh, his brother ripped the hoodie off Cain’s head, exposing it to the sun. He felt the heat as if somebody was aiming a flamethrower at him.
The scent of Abel’s blood and Cain’s burning hair mingled. Clenching his jaw, Cain’s hand jerked up, trying to drive the knife underneath Abel’s chin, but his brother’s arm blocked him just before it reached its target.
Cain! The sun! Help me!
Faye’s mental cry for help pierced his head.
“Nooooo!” he cried out.
A second later, Abel’s fist knocked the knife from Cain’s hand.
“Help me! Cain!” Faye’s muffled cry now came from the crypt.
He had no choice. He had to save Faye. Abel knew it, too, if the evil laugh behind his helmet was anything to go by.
Killing his brother would have to wait. Cain freed himself from his brother’s grip and raced past him, vaulting himself over the iron gate.
The lock on the crypt was broken. He pushed it open and charged into the interior. Light was already entering from the hole in the side of the building that faced east. It hit the many mirrors lined along the walls of the crypt.
“Faye!”
Faye lay on a stone slab in the middle of it, trying to twist away from the rays of the sun already hitting her. But the chains around her wrists and ankles prevented her from moving.
Her gaze shot to him. “Cain!” Tears streamed down her face and pain was evident in her features.
“Oh, God, no!”
Rushing toward her, he noticed to his horror that in his fight with Abel he’d lost the jacket he’d brought for her. He had nothing to cover her with. He pulled his dark hoodie off and threw it over her, covering her face and upper torso as best he could.
