Liz left just before dark, rushing to her car to avoid the last rays of sunlight.

  “I really gotta get to work,” she explained. “Tonight's our karaoke finals. Everybody's going to be there.” She hugged Donna and assured her not to worry about Hunter, that vampires were somewhat habitual about taking off like this and not returning for days.

  “But now he's a father-to-be,” Donna replied. “He should at least call.”

  “Men,” Liz scoffed. “Not exactly the most thoughtful gender, regardless of species.” She wished Donna Happy Birthday, got in her car and left. A few moments later, the Giovannis emerged from the house, kissed Donna warmly and assured her of Hunter's safety just as Liz had. Then they left, too. Donna stood on the front porch with her arms folded. When the sun finally dipped below the trees, she couldn't stand the sting of her absentee Eternal Partner any longer. She tromped down the steps.

  “Where are you going?” Mo asked.

  “For a walk. I can't stand being stuck in here, not knowing what's happened to Hunter.”

  “It's getting dark. You shouldn't go out.”

  “Stephen's dead. You killed him, remember?”

  “Stephen's not the only evil force out there.” Mo narrowed her eyes. “If you insist on going anyway, which, by that determined look on your face I assume you do, then I'm going with you.”

  “Fine. If you want to tag along and be bored out of your mind, be my guest. It's the least I can do for the person who saved my life.”

  “Now you're sounding more reasonable,” Mo trotted up behind Donna, wearing the satisfied look of a pigheaded best friend who was used to getting her way.

  Something by the garage caught Donna's attention - the stake she'd dropped the night before. She picked it up. It felt warm, probably from the sun's heat beating down on it all day.

  She held it up for Mo to see. “Will you feel better if I take this?”

  “Sure,” Mo shrugged. “But I'm still not leaving your side.”

  The front door opened. “Hey, Mo,” Jamie yelled. “Can you come here for a second?”

  Mo snarled between clenched teeth. “Of course, when I want to do something without him, he has a need.” She eyed Donna fiercely. “Don't you dare go anywhere without me.” She turned back to the house.

  I hope Mo will have more patience with the kid than she does with its father.

  Donna leaned against the silver Sentra, which now had four, fully-inflated tires, and surveyed Jamie's car closely for the first time. It was a white heap with no back window, just plastic duct taped over the hole where a window should be. Also, empty cigarette packs were scattered on the floor and the ashtray was full.

  Trent stuck his head out through the front doorway and noted the relative darkness. Satisfied that it was indeed dark enough, he strolled outside, stretching and inhaling a big breath of crisp, evening air.

  “Ahhhhhhh,” he exclaimed and then examined Jamie's car, raised an eyebrow and made a scoffing sound. “She's way too good for that.”

  “She's pregnant with his baby.”

  Trent shrugged. “That's no reason to stay with him.”

  “You're right,” Donna sighed, glanced down at the stake and rolled it between her fingers. The silver glinted in the early evening shade. She had to admit, the crazy guy with the gun shop sure did know how to make some amazing-looking weapons.

  “One of Howie's,” Trent indicated toward the stake.

  “It was out here all day. I just found it.”

  Trent snickered. “Howie would be pissed if he knew one of his precious tools got neglected in broad daylight like that.”

  “Who cares what that asshole thinks,” Donna made a disgusted face. “But it retains a lot of heat, it’s still warm from the sun.” She held out the stake for Trent to touch, but instead of touching it, he backed away, visibly distressed.

  “Stakes aren't really my thing, so I'll just take your word for it. Can you tell me something, though? How warm is it? I mean, exactly?”

  Donna shrugged. “Pretty warm. In fact, I didn't know silver conducted that much heat.”

  “So, it’s warmer than it should be, even for lying in the sun all day.” Trent swallowed hard enough for Donna to see his Adam's apple shift.

  “Yes. I'm sorry, I'll put it away.”

  Trent shook his head. “It's not that. The problem is, if that stake's warm, then its target is nearby.”

  “I don't understand.”

  “Howie's stakes are made for specific people. The stake reacts.”

  “Reacts?

  “It heats up as the intended target approaches.”

  “Oh…” Donna stared at Trent, her eyes widening.

  “It's not me,” Trent took a step back. “If it was, the thing would be almost too hot to handle right now.”

  “It's just pretty warm,” Donna explained. “Not hot.”

  “Who gave you that stake?”

  “The Giovannis,” she said. “They said it was made for Stephen, but Stephen's dead.” She looked around then she looked at Trent, who looked around too. He looked back at her, concerned. Donna shuddered. “Stephen is dead, isn't he?”

  “When the intended victim perishes, the stake goes cold.” Trent grimaced. “So maybe Stephen's not dead.” He glanced toward the woods and muttered, “Unless...”

  “Unless what?” Donna's voice hinted at her mounting panic.

  “I don't even dare say it,” Trent swallowed hard.

  “Damn it, Trent. My Eternal Partner is missing. So say it.”

  A chilly breeze whipped through the trees and caught Trent’s attention. He scanned the woods behind the house. “What if Howie screwed up?”

  “Do you have his phone number?”

  Trent shook his head vigorously. “You shouldn’t call Howie.”

  “I want to find out if he made a mistake.”

  “Let me give you some advice,” Trent said sternly. “You don't want to accuse Howie of making a mistake.”

  “If Stephen's still out there, I'll do whatever I need to.” Donna picked at her index finger nail. “Do you have the asshole's number, or not?”

  Trent nodded. “But -”

  “Give it to me.”

  “Okay, but I'm warning you. This is a bad idea.”

  Trent opened his phone and recited the number, which Donna punched in her phone. It rang four times before a guy with a gruff voice answered.

  “What?”

  “Is this Howie?”

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m looking for Howie.”

  “And I'm looking for peace and quiet. We're both shit out of luck.”

  “I take it you're him.”

  “I take it you're too stupid to take a hint.”

  I was right. He's an asshole.

  “I'm Donna. And I need to know about one of your stakes.”

  “I need to know why a stupid human has the gall to call me.” He growled loud enough to shake the phone in Donna's hand.

  “Stephen's dead. So why is the stake you made for him still warm?”

  Howie scoffed. “Stephen's stake is cold. I feel it.”

  “I'm holding it. It's warm.”

  “Well then, stupid human, you're not holding the stake I made for Stephen.”

  Donna wanted to choke the life out of the asshole. “Listen, mister, I'm holding the stake made for Stephen, the one you made for the Giovanni's, the one they gave to me.”

  Howie growled at her. “I made two stakes that day. You’re probably holding the one I made for Liz.”

  “Then you made the mistake. You swapped Liz's stake with mine.”

  “I don't make mistakes,” the asshole snapped.

  “Well, you did this time,” Donna snapped back. “Who was the intended target of the other stake?”

  “I don't make mistakes and if you ever bother me again, stupid human, I'll give your Warrior back his money just so I can enjoy the thrill of killing you with my own b
are hands.” The phone went dead.

  “What an asshole,” Donna scowled. “I hope I never lay eyes on him.”

  Trent smirked, “If Hunter has anything to do with it you won't.”

  She searched Trent's eyes. “Not that I want to deflate my best friend's sense of her inborn vampire-killing talents, but I do believe the stake Mo used on Stephen was the stake intended for Stephen. This one's made for a different vampire.” She shook the stake and looked nervously at the house. “Other than you, there's only one vampire nearby.”

  Trent eyed the house suspiciously. “No,” he said slowly. “It can't be.”

  “It must be.”

  “Dante's been on our side for so long.”

  “Maybe he's changed sides.” Donna peered at Trent. “Can vampires read the minds of other vampires?”

  Trent shook his head. “No. But then again, there are other ways to find out what's on somebody's mind. Want me to go take a stab at Dante?” He chuckled, but it was strained.

  “Please. I need to know what's happened to Hunter. If Dante's a spy, he might be hiding that information.”

  “Okay, I'll be right back.” Trent darted to the house just as Mo and Jamie strolled out. Jamie headed to his car. Mo turned to look at Trent, who had stopped and turned around to watch her. The two waved at each other. A few minutes later, Jamie left after pecking Mo on the cheek and without saying Happy Birthday or goodbye or even acknowledging Donna.

  “He looks mad,” Donna noted.

  “He thinks something's going on between me and Trent.” Mo rolled her eyes.

  “Well, he's right. I think you're about to become a single mom, Mo.”

  “I know...” Mo looked at the ground.

  “And a car that's not in the shop every other week will improve your odds of getting the kid to daycare on time.”

  “Trust me, I know. I’m working on raising the money to fix my hunk of crap car.”

  Donna examined Mo closely. “Keep the Sentra.”

  Mo’s eyes widened and she gasped. “Are you serious?”

  Donna nodded. “You saved my life. The least I can do is save you some car trouble.”

  Mo hugged Donna, pulled her close, and planted a kiss in the middle of her forehead. “Thanks, Donna. You really are the greatest.”

  “So are you, Mo.”

  “Yeah, I am, aren’t I?” Mo smiled smugly. Then she frowned. “Your mom's not going to hand over the Mustang keys quite so easily. What will you drive?”

  Donna considered the Ferrari and grinned. “I'll get by.”

  “Sorry about the lipstick.” Mo indicated toward Donna's forehead and giggled. “You look like a Cyclops.”

  Donna flipped open her phone. “What's Liz's phone number? I have to ask her something about that stake she gave you.”

  “Shhhhh.” Mo put a finger to her lips, whirled around and searched the yard with her widened eyes. “Did you hear that?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “It sounds like somebody's tromping through the trees right over there.” She pointed a few feet away to a birch grove.

  “Mo, I think you're hearing things.”

  “Come on, let's go.” She headed toward the grove.

  Donna glanced nervously toward the house. What’s taking Trent so long?

  “I really think we should hold off on this walk for a few more minutes,” she said.

  “What are you talking about? You're the one who wanted to go in the first place.”

  The stake warmed in Donna's hand. Definitely not conducting heat from the sun. “Maybe...maybe we can wait for Trent. He can go with us.”

  Mo grinned at that idea and even agreed to it. “But really, Donna. You’re acting strange. What’s going on?” Before Donna had a chance to answer, a familiar figure jumped from behind a tree and held a knife at Mo’s chest.

  “I always hated you bitch,” Rochelle punched Mo in the face, knocking her off guard. She took up the knife and plunged it straight in Mo's heart. Mo's hand went to her chest. She staggered back and slumped to the ground, her eyes wide with confusion.

  “Mo!” Donna screamed then was grabbed from behind and a knife held to her throat.

  “You should've taken my advice about men, Donna McCormick.” Donna tried to wriggle free, but tiny Ms. Schmill was surprisingly strong.

  A tall, dark shadow with piercing red eyes plowed through the newly fallen night, hissing like a wild monster. Rochelle pulled the knife from Mo's chest and dashed into the woods. Hunter grasped Ms. Schmill's wrist and twisted until it snapped. She screamed then dropped the knife. Donna pulled away. She looked at the stake in her hand. It had tripled in length and burned with such fierce heat that it almost singed her palm.

  “So this was built for you.” Donna lifted the stake. It was just like Mrs. Giovanni promised. The stake knew instinctively where to go. At the same moment it pierced Ms. Schmill's heart, Hunter's teeth pierced her neck. Ms. Schmill twitched and frothed, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She flailed and shrieked then slumped in Hunter's arms while he hungrily fed. Donna rushed to Mo and fell at her side.

  “Mo, please don't die. Please.” Tears blinded Donna and her throat tightened. Mo looked up and tried to smile. Her voice was a whisper.

  “Best friends...” Her head dropped to the side and her eyes slowly closed.

  “No! Stay with me, Mo. Mo, don't leave...the baby!” Donna placed her hands over the puncture in Mo's chest and tried to stop the bleeding. Her hands shook violently.

  “Hunter!” Donna screamed. “She's dying. Please save her.”

  Hunter let go of Ms. Schmill and her body slumped to the ground. He wiped blood from his mouth, but it stuck to his fangs and chin.

  “It won't work, sweetheart.”

  “Please! Try!”

  “If it does work,” he warned, “she'll be Turned.”

  “Do it!”

  “Without giving her consent...”

  “I'm giving mine!” Donna wailed. “Do it!”

  Hunter shook his head. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead and blood lingered on his chin. “Then her anger will be on your conscience, Donna. I'm warning you.”

  “Do it, damn it!”

  Hunter bit his forearm. Blood oozed from the wound. He placed the bleeding arm over Mo's mouth. She twitched, squirmed, seized, and then moaned, gasped for air and twitched again.

  “You need to help me,” Hunter glanced at Donna. “I'm weakened already. And the feeding -”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just keep her still.”

  “Okay, okay,” Donna said frantically. She held Mo with everything she had and sobbed hysterically. Ms. Schmill's body burst into flames behind them, and within seconds was entirely consumed - just like Stephen had been. Donna didn't care. All she cared about was Mo.

  “She recently fed,” Hunter indicated toward the ash pile, “which has given me the blood I need to hopefully save Mo - if you can call being Turned saved.”

  He gave blood to Mo until he looked almost ready to pass out then he whispered something in her ear. She lay in a limp heap on a bed of pine needles. It had grown quite dark so Donna could barely make out her expression, but she could tell Mo had stopped twitching and now wasn't moving at all.

  “Hunter, it's not working.”

  “Shhhh, give it another minute.”

  A minute passed and nothing changed. That's when Donna broke out in loud, sorrowful crying.

  “Sweetheart,” Hunter said. “It's okay.”

  “No,” she wailed. “It's not. Mo's gone and-”

  “- and look at her.”

  Donna wiped her eyes. Mo stirred, moaned. Hunter pulled back, let her cough and then held a hand over her chest until she caught her breath. He carefully lifted Mo's lip and examined her teeth.

  “Well, I'll be damned,” he muttered.

  “What?” Donna asked anxiously.

  “It worked.” Hunter wiped bl
ood from his mouth again. He sat back, looking confused.

  “What worked?”

  “The blood transfusion. It's bringing her back.”

  “That's good, right?”

  “Yeah,” he looked at Mo’s teeth again and shook his head. “But she's not Turning.”

  “So?” Donna glanced from Hunter to Mo and back to Hunter. “What does that mean?”

  “It means...” he ran his fingers through his hair. “It means there's a connection between Mo and me.”

  Donna shook her head. “Connection?”

  “My connection to you is so strong that your body can't tell the difference between your blood and mine. But that girl and me? Our connection couldn't be further from each other.”

  Mo sputtered, heaved and then started to breathe more steadily. Donna took Mo's hand, kissed her forehead and told her everything was going to be okay. And by the look of things, it was. The hole in her chest sealed shut and the color came back to her face.

  “Could it be me?” Donna suggested. “My connection to Mo is almost as strong as my connection to you. Haven't you said she and I have experienced every one of our lives together?”

  “As best friends.” Then it landed on Hunter like lightning out of a clear blue sky. “Through my Eternal Partner, I must be connected to...that.” He pointed at Mo whose measured breathing sounded like music to Donna's ears. Hunter started to bite his finger nails. Donna gently took his hands in hers.

  “It's okay,” she said softly. “If I can adjust to a life full of confusing creatures, then you can adjust to a life with this one.”

  Hunter scoffed. “Confusing? Ha! I'd rather take on an army of demons.” He checked Mo's teeth one more time and muttered something about not believing it.

  “Mo's not that bad, you'll see.” Donna kissed his cheek. “Where were you all day?”

  “I got caught in a trap on my way home this morning.” He brushed sweat from his brow. “They used that minion, Rochelle, as bait. But I didn't know at the time it was her. I just heard a woman screaming, so I ran toward it in the woods to see if I could help. A group of about fifteen minions grabbed me from behind just as the sunlight crossed above the trees, which instantly weakened me. They handcuffed me under a tree a few miles from here, smashed my phone, and then said they'd come back soon, dragging you behind them.” Hunter's jaw tightened. “It was Stephen's wish that if he should die, you die too…and that I should be witness to your murder.”

  “I'm sorry,” Donna whispered.

  “I broke free, but sunlight was everywhere around me. And of course, I didn’t have any sunscreen pills because I’d left in such a hurry last night. I also figured I’d be home before daylight, on account of your party. I was unprepared for the worst – something no Warrior should ever be.” His expression darkened. “I buried myself under leaves and waited for nightfall. I couldn’t do anything to save either one of you.”

  “Either one of us?”

  “You and Mo.”

  “Mo came to our house early this morning, before daybreak. She planned a surprise party for me. She invited everybody – even Liz and the Giovannis.”

  Mo moaned. She knows we’re talking about her.

  “She unwittingly saved both your lives. By being early to our house, the minions missed her at hers. They couldn't grab either one of you in a house full of vampires, so they waited outside to make their move.”

  Donna watched Mo's breathing, which was now quite even. “Mo saved my life twice in less than twenty four hours.”

  “As obnoxious as she is, Mo's always been a good friend to you.” Hunter emphasized always. “And,” he continued in a tired voice, “I never did find anything out about Stephen, but I did learn that Michael's preparing to leave for the Middle East tonight. He does well in places of mortal conflict. And without Stephen, he'll need all the mortal conflict he can get.” Hunter checked Mo's breathing one more time. “We'll all be much safer when Michael leaves. Well, most of us. His minions won't be so lucky.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that when Michael leaves on his voyage, he'll require plenty of,” Hunter cleared his throat, “fuel.”

  Donna gasped. “The mayor is going to Turn his minions?”

  “Likely not,” Hunter said.

  “Oh, that's good.”

  “He's going to kill them.”

  Donna stopped stroking Mo's spiky hair and stared up at Hunter. “He's going to kill the entire police force?”

  “Minions are high maintenance, sweetheart. Nobody in the Underworld world really wants more than they absolutely need for a given task.”

  “Won't all the missing cops make people suspicious?”

  “So what if it does? No mortal will ever suspect a centuries-old vampire.” Hunter winked. “This isn't the first time there's been a strange happening in the world that no mortal has ever figured out. And anyway, Michael would be wise to rid himself of minion stragglers. It's a path that leads right to him. The mortal equivalent is leaving a trail of online purchases everywhere you go.”

  “So,” Donna said, “the minions are money, the mayor is leaving town and there's no sign of Stephen. Does that mean...?”

  “It means Liz's assumption is correct.” Hunter's eyes lowered. “Stephen's dead.”

  She placed a hand on his arm. “I'm sorry.”

  Hunter scoffed. “You should be happy, sweetheart. You're finally safe after all these centuries.”

  “Yeah, but,” she said gently, “he was still your brother...”

  “He was a psychopathic monster and now he's gone. I'm glad and you should be too.” With that, Hunter scooped up Mo, who, though still mostly unconscious, cussed up a storm at being shuffled around. Hunter turned toward the house. Donna followed.

  “What's going to happen to Rochelle?”

  “She was Ms. Schmill's minion. Now that Ms. Schmill's gone, Rochelle will have to plead her case to the vampire who Turned Ms. Schmill.”

  “Is that Mayor St. James?”

  “It is.” Hunter groaned under Mo's weight.

  “So…Rochelle might become energy for the mayor.”

  “She might. Or, since the mayor has a thing for pretty females, he could spare her for...other things.” Hunter's expression was gloomy. “And now you've seen it. How I feed and how I take lives.”

  “I've also seen how you saved a life.” Donna indicated toward Mo, who made a grunting noise and swore under her breath. Donna hurried ahead to open the front door of the house. Mo stirred, opened her eyes and almost immediately realized whose arms she was in.

  “Put me down, blood-sucker!”

  “Mo,” Donna said. “This blood-sucker just saved your life. Be nice to him.” Hunter carefully set down Mo. She immediately buckled in pain.

  “Why does my chest hurt? Am I having a heart attack?” She looked at Hunter like he was the one causing her pain then she looked down at her shirt and gasped. “There's blood all over me. Why is there blood all over me? What did you do to me, blood-sucker?” Hunter growled. Mo shrieked and ran inside the house yelling for Trent to save her from the blood-sucker. Hunter and Donna stood in the doorway, chuckling. In the light spilling out from the hallway, Hunter peered closely at Donna. He raised an eyebrow. “There's a lipstick kiss mark on your forehead. Do I even want to know how it got there?”

  Donna indicated toward Mo's hysterical hollering.

  “Yeah, that figures.” He peered out over the front yard, pointed to a big grass patch. “See that?”

  Donna squinted frantically at the darkness. “No. What is it?”

  “It's the perfect spot for a little girl’s swing set.” Hunter leaned down, put one hand on Donna's belly and the other against her right cheek. He kissed her feverishly then took her hand and led her to her new life in their white picket fenced house at the end of Autumn Road.

  Snow fell in clumps, but it wasn’t the cold that made Donna shiver…it was his breath o
n the back of her neck.

  “Surprise, pet.”

  She spun around to face him. “Go away.”

  “Everything’s so normal for you now, for the first time since little Sammy died. It’s almost as if he never existed.”

  Donna scowled. “Leave my brother out of this. And yes, everything is normal.”

  “Too bad it won’t last.” He laughed chillingly. “There are more terrible surprises in store for you, pet.”

  “You can’t hurt me anymore.”

  “I don’t need to hurt you. I have your little girl.”

  “You can't have our baby.”

  “We'll see about that,” he sneered.

  “There’s nothing to see. You're dead.”

  “We'll see about that, too.”

  The End

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Bonnie Bernard is an alter ego of a feisty redhead who lives in the Rocky Mountains with her husband, a dog, and two cats – one of which owns everybody and everything in the house. They share their old home with a ghost who likes to flip switches and throw power tools until he gets what he wants (bright, shiny objects to play with).

  Bonnie spends her time writing, hiking and having fun with her friends. She enjoys planting obscure specimens in the backyard garden to see what pops up, and she’s fascinated by unseen forces and creepy-crawly things.

  Midnight Hunter is her first full-length fiction work.

  Find out more at www.midnighthuntertrilogy.com

  about the cover artist

  Jerry Skinner specializes in custom art and design.  As a rebellious child, Jerry took pocket knives to his mother's favorite furniture and once tried to tattoo his little sister's forehead.  But instead of growing up to pursue his natural talent for evil, Jerry makes a living as a successful graphic designer. Jerry’s work currently appears on t-shirts, newspapers, and flesh… no canvas is sacred – or safe. 

   Jerry lives in Idaho with his beautiful and long-suffering significant other, and two mean-as-hell wiener dogs. 

   To see more of his work, go here -

   https://www.eastidahoart.daportfolio.com/gallery/433228

 
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