Free Eternity and a Year by Ranae Rose Page B

white-gloved hand to rest at her groin—“here?”
    Carried nodded again, swallowing a large lump in her throat.
    “It was her, then,” the vampiress said with a nod. “Isadora.”
    Carrie blinked back tears and licked her lips, which had gone suddenly dry in stark contrast to her eyes. “How do you know?”
    Sophia’s pale face darkened, as if it had fallen under a sudden shadow. “That filthy bitch…” she said, “I’m hunting her.”
    Carrie shoved a hand deep into her other pocket, grasping the object she found there and withdrawing it. The screen of her cell phone glared dully in the daylight as she dialled Brendan’s new number. “I need to know something,” she said when he picked up.
    “What is it?” Brendan asked.
    “Promise!” she urged. “Promise you’ll answer me!”
    There was a pause from the other end of the line. “All right,” he finally said. “What do you want to know?”
    “The vampire who…who changed you,” she said. “What did she look like?”
    Brendan exhaled sharply. “Carrie…”
    “What did she look like?” she repeated, her voice taut with urgency.
    “Pale,” Brendan replied. “She was pale, with long dark hair down to her waist. She was tall—almost as tall as I am.” He paused for another moment. “Why, Carrie? Why do you want to know?”
    Carrie abruptly snapped the phone shut and shoved it back into her pocket, surveying Sophia critically. She was certainly pale, and although her hair was blonde, that didn’t mean anything—she could easily have changed its colour. Her height, though…the vampiress who stood before Carrie was petite, a mere five foot four, at most, and that was including whatever shoes she wore beneath her long dress. Brendan was an even six feet tall. Was it possible the vampiress hadn’t been lying?
    Carrie’s cell phone rang loudly in her pocket, once, twice, then a third time. She ignored its desperate fourth ring.
    “Why are you hunting her?” Carrie asked.
    “For the same reason you would be, if you were me,” Sophia replied. “She killed my husband.”
    Carrie blanched. “Killed?”
    Sophia nodded. “You don’t know? Oh, of course you don’t.” She frowned.
    “Know what?” Carrie asked, beginning to feel frantic.
    “That’s what she does,” Sophia replied, “to all of the men she changes. She leaves them and comes back a year later to use them and kill them afterwards.”
    Carrie’s jaw dropped, and her mouth widened in horror. “That’s why she’s here?” A hollow pit opened in her stomach—even the nausea had been better than this sudden, painful emptiness, she thought.
    Sophia nodded.
    “Can’t—can’t he…fight her?” Carrie stammered.
    “He could,” Sophia said, “but it wouldn’t do much good.”
    “Why?” Carrie asked. “Why not?”
    “Vampires strengthen as they age,” Sophia explained. “And she’s quite old. I’m not sure exactly how old, but I know she’s been around for at least two hundred years. A vampire of one year is no match for any vampire that age.”
    Carrie’s knees wobbled beneath her at Sophia’s revelation. “How old are you?” she asked.
    “I became a vampire twenty-three years ago,” she replied.
    “That’s it?” Carrie asked miserably. “I thought you said you were hunting her.”
    “I am.” Sophia’s voice was sharp and determined.
    “But how—” Carrie began.
    “I said that vampires gain strength as they age,” Sophia interrupted. “I didn’t say aging is the only way for a vampire to become stronger.”
    A small surge of hope sprang to life in Carrie. “What other ways are there?”
    “There’s only one,” Sophia said, “and that’s to absorb the strength of other vampires.”
    “How do you do that?” Carrie was curious but had a distinct feeling she wouldn’t like the answer.
    “You and your fiancé, have you been…intimate since he was changed?” Sophia eyed Carrie askance as she spoke, as if doubting Carrie’s flimsy human