Chapter Eight

Fight of the Living Dead

Eva instinctively rubbed the spot where the zip tie had loosely trapped her to the bed frame earlier. Body tingling, every single fiber in her being demanded that she run and never stop. But she held herself in place as she met Oliver's deep blue eyes with a false bravado.

Fake it till you make it, she chanted over and over, willing herself to remain calm. Vampires, werewolves, and witches, oh my! Seriously, was this crap real, or had she crossed into a dream so real that she could literally feel it? If it was a dream, at least it included a hunky vampire and not some old, decrepit one like Nosferatu.

"So, we have to just hang out here until whatever that is out there breaks in and then what?" Eva attempted to look through the closed blinds but couldn"t see past the darkness before Oliver pulled her away from the window. Flinching away, she pushed both hands against his hard chest. "And personal space, please."

"Do you have a death wish? Don't show yourself to something that's hunting you, Eva, unless you plan to be bait," he chided, hints of red once again trickling throughout his vision. He inhaled deeply. "We won't sit here and be prey either."

So, she hadn't imagined red eyes before. Clearly, the color was dependent on his mood, but she hadn't decided yet what that mood was.

"Again, not an expert on being hunted either, Oh-liver," she mocked, ready to reconsider his nickname from Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome to Mr. Everything-Will-Kill-You. Or EWKY for short. She smirked at calling him EWKY to his obnoxious, chiseled face. "Can't you do some vampire whammy or mind trick on whatever it is?" Eyeing him suspiciously, she continued, "Or are the flashy eyes and pointy teeth your one trick?" Was she seriously considering that all of this stuff was true?

The small but mighty house once again rumbled in protest as it powered through another hit, shifting the floorboards beneath them like waves on an ocean. This time, the flickering lights ended in blackness, while only a bit of light from the nearly full moon shone in through the lace over the window.

Oliver didn't move, but it threw Eva off balance, and she steadied herself on the first available surface, which once again was his solid—very solid—chest. Hanging on a few extra moments just in case the house was torn from its foundation, she then pulled herself back, grinding her teeth in frustration as if he personally had knocked her off balance.

"And who says it"s hunting me? It's probably after you, and you just led it here." Realization dawned on her that this completely serious and possibly deadly threat had been brought right to her doorstep. Popping an accusing finger in his shadowed face, Eva continued in a harsh whisper, enraged that he might have a hand in destroying her home.

"You! You did this! I've lived here almost my whole life without any of this! Maybe I can just leave and this whatever it is can stay and duke it out with you. Wait! On second thought, maybe you can leave. It will just chase after you, away from my house before it's destroyed completely!" Considering the damage already inflicted on her beloved home, Gram would roll over in her grave thinking of the mess.

"That's a negative all around. First . . ." Whispering back, he ticked off a list. "I don't have any natural predators or current enemies, especially ones that would follow me to the middle of Ohio. Second, I think you've always had a threat and just not realized it because of all the protections wrapped around this house. Third, I'll admit with prejudice that I did add some damage to your protections, but in my defense, they were already beginning to fade, so this attack was inevitable. At least the way it's worked out, I'm here to help you. Add in the shadow scout that spied on you early today leads to the conclusion it is definitely you they're after." Finality touched his voice, and he raised an eyebrow, as if his points made any sense at all to her, and she should be thankful for his mighty protection.

Looking at him in a mixture of awe and shock, fighting to keep her voice low from whatever was outside, Eva questioned incredulously, "Are you wanting me to thank you for all this? Are you trying to be the hero of mystory?"

Shaking her head, she continued, "Assuming I believe anything you've told me, it doesn't add up that anything out there would be interested in me. Any chance you have a super fast car parked outside?"

Despite the momentary silence outside, the house quivered as if gearing up to brace itself against another assault. Again the lights flickered, this time ending up bathing the room in a soft light from the lamp that lay on the floor. If Oliver was telling her the truth, and the house protected itself or her, then that was quite possibly what was happening.

"Actually, I have a rental that I left downtown. I followed you on foot." This time, it was his jaw that clenched as they both ran through any possible scenario that might aid an escape.

"Super vamp speed and kung foo fighting skills then, by chance?"

Another hit sent a stronger rumble moving through the house, as bits of ceiling fell around them, and the bed jumped closer to the opposite wall. This time, a roar of triumph followed by other excited yips and howls bit through the air, hitting Eva straight in the chest while the house continued vibrating around her. Whatever was out there wasn't a singular creature. It sounded more like a pack of wild animals; wild animals that were apparently huffing and puffing and blowing her house down. Were these possibly the werewolves Oliver claimed existed?

"Yes, super speed, but while also carrying you and fighting off what unfortunately sounds like an entire pack of hellhounds . . . Not entirely a feasible plan if we want to assure we aren't ripped to pieces." His serious tone cut through Eva's snark, but at the same time, she noted how he bounced on his feet as if in barely contained excitement. How the red bled entirely through his eyes, hiding any hint of blue.

Was he happy with this development? Was he insane?

So hellhounds, not werewolves. Was there a difference? Her books didn't have werewolves in them, and the books she'd read didn't cover hellhounds—assuming they had any of the other stuff right. It wasn't like smut books were a guidebook to paranormal creatures.

"Hellhounds do not sound good." Ignoring her amped up companion, Eva realized she lacked any real weapons as she glanced around her small room. Dropping to her knees, with a wiggle she shimmied partly under the bed and pulled out the never-used aluminum bat that she'd purchased after Gram passed, leaving her alone in the house. Quickly back on her feet, she hoisted it like a character from TheWalking Dead, wishing the small room allowed for a few practice swings. "Not good at all, are they?" she repeated, really hoping he would suggest they were the size of kittens and easily defeated.

"They are not." In a tone that didn't allow for arguments or hope, he added, "When I said I have no natural enemies, I hadn't considered hellhounds being set loose. Barely controllable and completely unpredictable, they hunt in packs and rip their prey to shreds. Only a fool would call up that many; they could turn on their summoner as easily as follow directions."

Standing to the side of the window, he peered over quickly before asking her, "Any chance that old Suburban under the carport still works?"

Shocked, Eva nearly looked out the window herself again. How had he seen it in the dark and through the overgrowth of the garden? How long had he crept around outside getting a lay of the land, before sneaking into her house? Had he watched her from the yard while she undressed and showered?

The 1982 blue two-toned, diesel Suburban sat under the carport rain or shine. It had most definitely seen better days with its faded paint job and a few touched up rust spots. The carport was covered in vines, protecting it from the elements, and the hedges and vines on three sides hid it from casual view. There was just enough room to park it under the small but sturdy structure. A few times a year, the beast got pulled out by her or her friend Jackson when he was home on leave. She would take it for a tune up or oil change, drive a few miles in it, and then park it again. Jackson would use it as long as his leave allowed, always making sure the diesel was topped off, oil changed, and the tire pressure still good. It had run two, maybe three weeks ago. Within a few yards of the house, it might as well have been a mile away if the beating that drummed through the house was an indicator of the creatures' desire to get to them.

Head bobbing and fingers crossed, Eva confirmed it ran. "Keys are under the tire." Despite the possibility of teenagers taking it for a joy ride—that had happened to a few neighbors—no one bothered her old heap, probably forgetting that it did on occasion run. Or maybe it was safe in part due to the protective magical dome Oliver kept on about?

"We need to make it there before they break through, and I think that's going to be soon. Very soon," Oliver admitted, listing their options. "If we could wait until morning light, they would have to go back to hell, but I don't think we have that much time, and unfortunately, I don't have backup anywhere close. We have to move fast and just try to stay ahead of them until morning light."

The pounding grew stronger while they whispered, causing nonstop, fevered tremors on the house. The creatures' shrieks and howls blasted through the windows, rattling the pictures that had already crashed to the floor and causing a flurry of ceiling popcorn to fill the air around them.

Eva wasn't mistaken. Claws seemed to grow slightly from his long fingers, and the red eyes quickened with excitement as he ran through their options. Despite his ruffled appearance—was that mud on the knees of his pants?—Oliver was clearly looking forward to the battle to come. Keeping a firm two-hand grasp of the bat while wishing she shared a bit of his excited optimism, she let him pull her by the elbow in the direction of the hallway.

"Won't you go poof yourself in the morning light?" she whispered, wondering if that would be a bad thing, but also realizing that all her newfound questions would go poof as well.

Face furrowed and nose wrinkled, his red eyes shot back at her. Tight lipped, he shook his head in the negative, leaned close to her ear, then out of the side of his mouth, said in seeming disgust, "Stupid superstition."

A single lamp remained lit and on its side in a corner of the now mostly dark living room. Normally a comfortable, tidy room, it currently lay in shadowy shambles. As they crept through the room, the ground crunched under a plethora of shattered memories and keepsakes. Not even the sturdy settee remained unscathed; tipped on its side, pillows eschewed, it was missing the soft afghan that normally rested on its back. Near the upset furniture, Eva could see the outline of her work backpack she'd tossed onto the settee just a few short hours ago.

Pulling free from Oliver's guidance, she shifted the bat to one hand while squatting to retrieve her bag splayed out upon the floor. No matter the circumstance, she wasn't prepared to leave her laptop behind and was thankful she'd been too amped up to unpack it earlier. Maybe her phone was still inside the bag as well? Definitely not as important as saving her currently unbacked up files. Twisting the bag around over her shoulders, she settled it comfortably into place, once again freeing her hands to grip the bat with firm resolution. She nodded toward Oliver, indicating that she would follow and that holding her hand wasn't necessary to ensure compliance.

Oliver immediately stepped in the direction of the front door. She hesitated, then whispered lowly, assuming that if vamp hearing was a thing, he would hear her above the house"s moans of protest, "The back door is closer to the carport."

Shaking his head no, he jabbed a finger toward the front door, clearly indicating for her to follow his instruction.

Like I'm a dog, she thought in disgust, following anyway although her mind insisted that the back door sat much closer and in a direct line to the suburban. He'd better not get me killed, but nonetheless, Eva stuck closely to his backside. Is that dirt on his pants?

Oliver exited first, then with one arm extended, added protective cover while holding the door for her to silently walk through.

Even in the dark, Eva could see the flash of his eyes constantly scanning the tree line as well as watching both blind corners of the house. As soon as they exited the house, she realized the pounding and annihilation came from the back of the house. Leaving through the back door would have put them directly in the beasts' line of sight. A miscalculation like that could have been detrimental. Inside the house, the pandemonium had been too much to pinpoint where it was coming from—or at least for her. The backyard must hold the weakened spot that Oliver claimed existed.

Noiselessly, the pair turned in tandem, hoping to go around to the side unheard and unseen. One last thud reverberated through the dark house, its foundation, and through the very core of the ground beneath their feet. This time, the powerful shock waves knocked both of them off their feet into a dazed pile on the ground. After a slight pregnant pause, the sound of the animals reached a new frenzy of growls and howls. Eva's heart pounded out of her chest as she tried to catch her breath, refusing to lose grip on her only weapon even as she lay shaking on the damp ground.

"They're in," Oliver whispered, reaching around to wrap an arm around her in one swift movement, half pulling, half carrying her toward the corner of the house, reaching it in a flash. Pausing before peering around to ascertain the direction the hellhounds would go, Eva felt certain whatever the creatures were, they would surely hear her loud, ragged breath and pounding heart.

A tiny cry mewed forth when she heard the sound of the back door smashing and perhaps part of the outer wall itself crashing in, followed by the beating of heavy paws rushing through the house. The squeals, howls, and yips of excitement turned to sharp barks of frustration as they tore through, destroying her sanctuary, unable to immediately find their quarry.

Oliver never gave her a chance to mourn the devastation that had been unleashed in her home. They continued their journey in a blur down the partially graveled, mostly dirt drive that led under the darkened carport. Stopping just short of the bumper, Eva caught her breath and tried to get her eyes to adjust quickly.

"Keys?" hissed Oliver.

"Under the passenger side tire. I'll grab them, you drive?" she whispered back, assuming that being in the security business he might have a bit of experience evading whatever it was they were trying to evade. Later, she would mourn the loss of Gram's cottage, her safe place. Her home.

In a zip, Oliver silently opened the driver's door and slid in, as Eva cautiously crept down the other side of the Suburban. She'd parked too close to this side of the carport, and the vines and bushes that had grown up here had also begun to encroach on the side of the vehicle. Squeezing down with relief that she fit, she ran her hands around the wheelhouse. Triumphantly, she felt the magnetic key that Jackson had put there years ago. Relief flooded through her when it popped out easily into her hand and bouncing up, she could nearly taste her freedom, at least from the hellhounds at her door. Opening her door with a resounding creak, she stopped short as it banged sharply against the side of the carport. The frantic, fevered crashing in the house paused briefly before another resounding crash. This time, it came straight through the front door.

"Get in!" Oliver shouted as she reached her arm through the small space, blindly tossing the key at him, not knowing if he caught it or not.

The door couldn't open all the way; surely not far enough for her to fit inside quickly.

Eva cursed herself and her own bad luck. Last time she'd driven the car, she'd parked it closely to the right side, knowing she seldom had passengers get in. Now that might get her killed. Squeezing in with her backpack on wasn't working at all, so she took it off and tossed it on her seat, watching as Oliver threw it in the back seat, reaching a hand across the console to finish pulling her through the tight space.

She was going to make it, surely she was. Eva could hear the creatures pounding across the yard as their shrieks and snarls ripped through the air. How could something cause the entire ground to quake as it moved? How many were there? Turning sideways, hoping to slide into the Suburban, she cursed herself for not leaving more room. Gram had told her to always be prepared for anything, and at the first test, she'd failed. She'd failed, and she was going to die for it.

Facing the seat, she looked through the car, reaching with her right hand toward Oliver's hand, knowing his brute force could get her through the too small opening if they could just reach.

For a second their eyes met. His were surely just as wide as hers, but not filled with the panic she felt. They boiled red and angry, anger that she knew wasn't directed at her. However, the next second, just as she was about to grasp his hand, just as she felt the brush of his fingertips, the Suburban shuddered and heaved sideways.

At the same time, a searing pain shot through her right calf. Time slowed down as she tumbled and thrashed, fearing that the vehicle had been body slammed on top of her. Her head hit the door with a resounding crack as she was yanked fully away from the Suburban. Blackness and silence, then pain as a creature jerked her backward along the driveway where the other two waited. The gravel tore into her stomach and arms as she was ripped backward. A breath later, she screamed in agony from the fiery pain shooting through her leg up into her ribcage, while her head pulsating from the pain.

The hellhound shook her leg violently, rolling her half over, then released her with a deep growl. Lifting her heavy, throbbing head, she felt the blood dripping down along her face raw from the gravel. So much pain. She pleaded with her body to move but instead came face to face with two other predators. If she were standing, the creatures' backs would reach her shoulders. Black as sin, with eyes red as blood, the hellhounds moved closer, snapping and snarling with smoky breath, reeking of sulfur and what she imagined was brimstone from the fires of hell. Closing her eyes tightly, Eva painfully braced herself for their next movement. There was no doubt they were here for her and not Oliver.

A sharp yelp cut off a growl, followed by yet another crash. Opening her eyes, Eva realized that only one would open now, but still she saw the savior standing above her. Oliver had thrown one hellhound, launching it into the other, sending them reeling across the lawn to land in a heap. They lay stunned for a moment before thrashing about, untangling themselves from each other. Like a warrior god of old, in a fluid movement so quick that if she'd blinked she would have missed it, he snatched up the bat that lay by her side. Rolling over, struggling to regain her footing enough to stand, Eva watched Oliver beat the remaining hellhound away from her while he roared an unholy sound. Winding up, his last swing sent the stunned hound back into the street, where it lay motionless.

Eva could already hear the other two recovering their breath as they huffed and snarled, attempting to regain their feet and clearly preparing to launch a vengeful counterattack.

Swooping her up, Oliver placed her gently in the Suburban's passenger seat, plenty of room now since the determined brute's body had slammed the vehicle sideways, nearly yanking the door off its hinges.

The fire in her leg refusing to relent, Eva cried out in agony. She grasped her leg in both hands, unable to control the tears flowing down her cheeks. She was barely aware of Oliver manhandling the broken door and pounding it closed.

Squealing tires, the Suburban reversed into the street, thumping against the hound that lay there, then with a hard shift, screeched forward down the street.

Eva tried breathing deeply through the worst pain she'd experienced. Looking at Oliver through her one good eye, she gasped, "My leg feels like it's on fire." Her entire body was a combination of dampness, fire, and pain. She couldn't decipher where one injury ended and another began or even if she bled or if the dampness she lay in was due to perspiration from the fire she was in.

Compassion and concern filled Oliver's now blue eyes as he looked at her, hands gripping the steering wheel. "It's the hellfire from the bite. We need to get you to my healer." Glancing in the rearview mirror, then shifting his gaze back to her, he let out a slow breath. "When the sun comes up, the hounds won't be able to follow us, but for now we have to keep moving." He hesitated before adding, "I can give you a bit of my blood to help ease the pain until we reach the healer, but if we stop right now, we're dead. I know this is all new and unbelievable to you, but it's the best chance you have right now."

So great was the pain, Oliver could have offered to punch her in the face, and if such a hit diminished a fraction of the pain, she would happily accept it. She nodded in agreement and leaned in, unsure what to do, but willing to try anything just to relieve the pain.

Fixing his eyes on her, Oliver bit his own wrist as they barreled down the road before placing the dark offering to her. "Just a sip and then rest," he instructed with a strong push behind the words.

Not even needing to lean forward, Eva set her mouth uncertainly on the wrist that had two thick, dark streaks of blood oozing up to stare at her. "You don't need to be gentle," he told her as he turned his eyes back to the highway.

Her hair fell forward, surrounding her face, hiding from view what she did, and she placed her mouth more firmly over the wounds. Sucking, she moaned with a jolt as the sweet and salty fluid touched her mouth. It wasn't what she would have imagined as the nectar slid down her throat. Running her tongue along her savior's wrist, she became determined to savor each succulent drop even if it caused the death of her. Greedily gulping now, she felt the essence move down her throat, then through her body, leaving her energized and heady at the same time. The pain in her body faded, and she took another swallow, this time hearing Oliver moan next to her. Raising her head, she looked at him apologetically as what appeared to be agony filled his tense face.

"I'm so sorry. Was that too much?"

"No, it's fine," came his terse answer. His lower jaw tightened and he again brought his wrist to his mouth, licking the wounds as he watched her, removing any trace of the injury. "On hellhound bites, it will unfortunately wear off, so we'll need to continue doing it. But the pain may worsen each time."

Eva nodded in understanding, then let out a giggle as her head continued to bob up and down. "Haha, my head is floating." She bobbed it back and forth and laughed again. "I feel like one of those bobble heads."

Oliver side-eyed her as she began examining her hands, doing jazz hands in slow motion. "Wow, look at my hands. They're so perfect and they move so fast." Placing her hands on her lap where they continued to bounce, she lay her head back against the seat. "I feel sooo good right now. I can feel my blood pumping through every part of my body, even my head. Oh wow, yeah, you're, like, a real, live vampire. Can you feel my blood pumping through my body?"

"I can hear it," he corrected her. "It whooshes through, echoing through my ears. I can only feel it if I'm touching you."

"Oh, feel this!" she squealed as she removed his hand from the steering wheel and cupped it next to her chest with both hands. "Can you feel it? It's moving so fast."

Oliver shifted uncomfortably and admitted that yes, her blood was moving super fast through her. "Eva, I think you may be high or drunk. You need to rest now."

"I don't do drugs, and I only drink coffee," she replied indignantly, tossing his hand away from her.

"I think you've reacted to my blood, but you need to relax and rest. We've got a long drive ahead, and this is only a temporary fix," he cautioned.

"Ugh, don't be such a prick," she retorted, followed by another bout of giggling. "Get it? Prick? Prick yourself for blood? Not my best work, I admit, but my head won't stop floating."

"I know. Just lie back and rest. How's the leg?"

"Better, a bit. Low burn instead of hellfire burn," she mumbled. "Why am I here?"

"Because a hellhound bit you, and we're on our way to get you fixed up."

But why?she wondered, but her mouth wouldn't move to form the words. Continuing to float, she listened to his voice.

"On our way near Chicago. That's where I live, and I have people there. I'll have someone meet us, and we"ll get you fixed up. Then we'll figure out our next move."

Our next move . . . Eva liked the sound of that. Oh, yeah, I was in Chicago once or maybe twice. She couldn't remember right now, but later, when she remembered, she would be sure to tell him. Nestling down, she mused, You taste nice.

Silence, sweet silence, then she heard Oliver whisper, "Thanks."

Oh, Lord, now her mouth worked.