She felt like a thief sneaking out of the room and creeping to the landing, but she continued to tiptoe all the way down the stairs. She had just reached the door to the kitchen when she heard the soft screech of protesting wood. Pausing in the kitchen doorway, she peered around the room. It was a moment before she noticed movement at the window, then she froze like a deer in headlights. The window had been pushed up, and someone was even now climbing in. They had one leg in and were maneuvering the rest of their body behind.
Heat prickled up the back of her neck, adrenaline pumped through her, and Rachel did what came instinctively--she ducked out of sight into the first available hiding spot, the hall closet. She was easing the door closed before she realized what she was even doing. It wasn't until she felt relatively safe in her hiding place that her brain seemed to engage, and she realized that she, Rachel Garrett, now a vampiress extraordinaire, was hiding from a common thief.
Rachel felt the fear run out of her like water from a glass. What on earth was she doing? She was a vampire. She could handle this cretin. Heck, she'd give him a scare he'd never forget. Teach him a lesson he'd never forget, either, she thought with amusement. Starting to ease the door back open, she only had it a few inches when the burglar straightened and she saw his face. Rachel paused again as recognition struck her. Here was the man from the morgue, the khaki-clad maniac who had tried to hack off Etienne's head. Pudge.
That was enough to make her ease the door closed again. This was no regular burglar; this was a man who knew Etienne and his family. He knew about vampires, and how to kill them. And that was no doubt what he was here to do, she realized. Panic immediately set in on her again, and Rachel spent a moment trying to think what to do. Her plans to slip out for a solitary walk were definitely out. She had to get upstairs and warn Etienne. And she had to do so before Pudge got to him.
Too late for that, she realized as Pudge moved past. She'd have to follow him and take him by surprise.
Rachel heard the creak as he started up the stairs, and she knew it was safe to come out of her hiding place. The stairs curved up to the right, so it was safe to leave the closet. When she stepped out into the hall, it somehow seemed darker than it had moments ago. The sun was still shining brightly, however, its rays coming through the windows made dust motes dance in the air. She would have to avoid it.
Pushing all thoughts away as inconsequential, she started to follow Pudge, then paused and peered back into the closet for a weapon. The best she could come up with was a mop and a broom. Rachel considered ransacking the kitchen, where she would at least be able to find a sharp knife, but she feared she didn't have time. Besides, she had seen enough of Pudge to know that he was armed to the teeth. The man had been carrying a rifle, a holstered gun, a knife long enough to almost be a sword, and various other articles. She figured nothing short of a bazooka would even things out at this point.
Snatching the mop because it at least had a sturdy wooden handle, compared to the flimsier thin aluminum handle of the broom, Rachel hurried through the hall. She raced as quickly and quietly as she could up the stairs.
The upstairs hall was empty when she reached it, which was hardly reassuring. She wasn't sure if it meant the man knew exactly which room was Etienne's and had already entered, or if he was searching each room individually and was presently out of sight. He might come out behind her and take her by surprise.
Praying that he was in one of the other rooms and would stay there long enough for her to get to Etienne, Rachel screwed her courage to the sticking place and scampered up the hall on tiptoes. At the door to Etienne's room, she paused to glance back at the empty hall, then quickly opened the door. She was just in time to see Pudge raising a stake high over his head. Rachel did the only thing she could think to do at that point: she let loose the loudest, longest shriek she had ever managed in her life and charged forward.
Pudge paused, shocked eyes jerking around to her and her mop, then just as quickly back to Etienne, who started awake crying, "What? What is it?"
Much to her horror, Pudge then plunged the stake down.
The sound Rachel released was full of fury, and came from a place she didn't even know existed within her. It sounded to her ears like a primal growl, almost a roar, as she swung her mop at the back of the man's head. Unfortunately, he saw and managed to duck.
Rachel had used enough force that she overbalanced. By the time she regained herself and swung back, Pudge was launching himself at her in a football tackle. His head hit her in the abdomen and knocked the breath out of her, and she stumbled backward onto the carpet, where the wind was knocked out of her again. They both slammed into the floor.
Pudge was quicker to recover, and he had his long, wickedly sharp knife at Rachel's throat before she could even attempt to struggle free. "Freeze, lady, or I'll cut your head off," he gasped.
Rachel froze. She could survive a lot of injuries, but having her head cut off wasn't one of them.
They stared at each other, both panting a bit, when movement on the bed drew their attention. Etienne was down but not out for the count. In all the excitement, Pudge's aim had been off. Etienne was even now sitting up, the stake protruding from his chest a bare inch to the side of where his heart would be.
Rachel nearly sobbed with relief when he tugged the stake free.
Pudge was less impressed. He cursed, then barked, "You freeze too, Argeneau!"
Etienne hesitated, then sank back onto the bed, his eyes narrowed. It was a standoff.
"Well, hell," Rachel said as she realized Pudge had the upper hand. She really didn't feel she had made a very good showing. She supposed she needed training.
"What are you going to do now, Pudge?" Etienne asked. He was starting to look a little better, and Rachel supposed the nanos must be working like mad to make repairs. He'd need more blood to fuel them, though. Still, he looked pretty nonchalant for someone who'd been staked and whose girlfriend was presently under threat of having her head cut off. If she could call herself his girlfriend. Did sleeping with a man make you his girlfriend? Or was he just thinking of her as--Don't even go there, girlfriend, she warned herself. Now was not the time for that kind of analysis.
"If you cut her head off, you lose your shield," Etienne continued.
Pudge was silent, but his knife pressed tighter against Rachel's throat. Confusion and uncertainty struggled on his face.
"I've been very patient with you, Pudge--mostly because I've found your antics entertaining to date. But I find you're becoming tiresome. I suggest you leave and never return, or you shall force me to put an end to our little games. Permanently."
It was amazing to Rachel that her lover could sit there with a gaping chest wound, yet still sound so threatening. She glanced at Pudge to see if he were equally impressed, and was a tad relieved to note the sweat popping out on his forehead. She just wasn't sure if it would result in a good thing or a bad one.
"Up."
Rachel scrambled to her feet, very aware of the long knife at her throat. She considered trying some fancy footwork in an attempt to break free, but her attempt and failure to save Etienne had rather sapped her confidence. She was afraid she'd make a mess of it as she had earlier.
Once they were both upright, Pudge shifted behind her, using her as the shield Etienne had mentioned.
"Stay back," Pudge ordered. His voice started out firm but ended on a quavering note that bespoke his fear. Not that Rachel needed that. She could actually smell the fear pouring off him. She didn't know how she recognized the scent but supposed it was a new ability. Most predators had it--dogs could sense fear, as well as cats. She supposed the nanos increased the abilities most useful to their carriers, and this was pretty useful for a predator to have.