Chasing Shadows

chapter Two





When I finally walked out of the house, I made sure to go over to Moe and Cissy’s kennel and pet them through the chain link, allowing them to sniff me and reassure themselves that I was alright. Dogs were among the few animals that—while recognizing something dangerous—did not actually fear vampires, and what they say about Chihuahuas and their apparent inability to recognize a fight they can’t possibly win is true. I had not the slightest doubt that had they had an opportunity to attack Evangeline, Moe and Cissy would have done so with a rabid Rottweiler’s determination, and would have tried their utmost to tear my sister limb from limb in defense of their beloved mistress.

After the dogs appeared satisfied no harm had come to me, they trotted off to their water bucket, and I took that as a sign that I could move on. Walking through the barn, I turned left and looked in on the chickens. They were clucking and moving around their pen same as always, so I about-faced to check on the pigs in their sty. They were all flopped over on their sides in the shade, so I left them be as well.

I walked over to the split-rail fence that opened into a paddock, walked across the paddock and over to the gate that led to the main pasture. My six cows and four horses were all out grazing, so I had to whistle to get their attention. The cows, of course, barely looked up, but the horses raised their heads. I whistled again and they started trotting over. As I waited for them I couldn’t help but shake my head, my mind drifting back to Vangie’s visit. Vampires had been on Earth pretty much since the beginning of Man, though the term wasn’t actually used until the 18 century. Certainly my people had learned fairly early on in their existence that by drinking blood every day, they could stay awake longer during the daytime. For that matter, they didn’t have to sleep at all during the day if they didn’t really want to.

I shooed Hasufeld away and allowed his brother and parents to pass into the paddock as my thoughts kept turning. Most vampires had taken to living the lifestyle myth and legend had painted for them because of the simple fact that they could walk around at night without the fear of falling asleep at an inopportune moment. Why should they put in the extra time and effort it would take to maintain a human sleep cycle? Why fight the nature of what they had become?

Still, I had once wondered, why not at least try it—especially if you kept vessels or knew someone who did who was willing to share? Sure, you might have to drink a lot of blood, or at least consume regular quantities throughout the day same as humans had mealtimes, but wasn’t it worth it to see the beauty of sunlight? To smell flowers, or hear birds chirping in the trees? My people had no idea how much they were missing by giving in to their biology.

After getting the three horses back into their stalls, I made quick work of trimming and filing the edges of their hooves before putting them back outside once more. I then had to tackle one of the most despised tasks of farming—mucking out stalls. I had ten that I had to clear, not including the pigs’ indoor habitat and the chicken coop, which also needed cleared out.

As I resigned myself to that task and got started, I found myself wondering about Mark Singleton and why he had all of a sudden called about interviewing for the job I had advertised. I also had to consider that while I would be hiring him (if I did) to help out around the farm while I started on another book, I wasn’t going to be able to simply ignore my animals. I’d have to work with him every day for a week or more just so they would get used to having a stranger around. And I wouldn’t be able to go about doing things the way I sometimes did when I was alone. Although most of the time I did the farm work just like humans did—slowly, without using any extra speed or strength—there were days when I just wanted to get it all done and I buzzed around like Clark Kent on Smallville, popping nails in boards with my fingers and pounding posts into the ground with my bare hands. I could lift whole hay bales with one hand and race around the entire perimeter of my land within minutes. I wasn’t going to be able to do any of that with a hired hand on the farm—

—especially one who would be living above the barn.

But it was a price I would willingly pay, because the presence of another would be a welcome reminder of my own humanity.

I was just coming back from hauling the waste of the fifth stall out to the compost pile when I heard a car, and out of habit I stopped moving to feel with my “supe-sense” whether or not this new arrival was of a supernatural origin. I got nothing but the scent of a human, and relaxing, I started forward again.

Given the oddity of my sister visiting me out of the blue (even if Diarmid had been the one to send her), I shouldn‘t have been surprised by the feeling I got as I drew closer. My gift for sensing the presence of another supernatural being worked at a fair distance, but because I had smelled human, I had assumed human. As I was pushing the wheelbarrow back into the barn my visitor was getting out of a late-model Dodge truck, and I found myself suddenly engulfed with the feeling of an immortality that wasn’t my own. Because it was so unexpected, I started looking around to see if there was someone else I had missed. But then I realized it was coming from the guy who was slowly striding toward me.

And then I was struck with two more sudden realizations: I was about to meet my first immortal human…and he was, quite literally, the man of my dreams.

I stood frozen in place as he walked into the barn, stopping just inside where he didn’t have to squint. “Ms. Caldwell?”

I gave myself a hard mental shake and forced my feet to move forward, recalling the ominous words of the psychic when I had asked her when I would finally meet the man I had been dreaming about: “Fate will bring you together when you need each other the most.” I was suddenly frightened, and damn it, I didn’t scare easy. If Mark Singleton was the man who would complete me, then his coming here on the very day my sister said our father wanted me to find the betrayer of vampire kind could only mean one thing:

Trouble was coming.

“Are you Mark Singleton?” I heard my voice say, proud that at least one part of my brain was functioning correctly. Not only was I suddenly afraid that Mark and I were in for a very bumpy ride, I could feel my body buzzing as I drew nearer to him. Every nerve ending was on fire, every inch of my skin ached for the touch that to me was already as familiar as breathing. With an effort, I kept my fangs retracted and forced the sudden image of our bodies twined together in my bed from my mind, plastering a smile on my face because Mark was beginning to look a little perplexed. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was acting strangely, or if it was possible he was feeling some sort of effect of being near me. After all, we were bondmates—was he supposed to be feeling something, too?

My visitor nodded slowly, and I suddenly noticed he had what I could only think of as a military bearing. He was standing ramrod straight and his eyes were on me, but he seemed to be drinking in every single detail of his surroundings. He had also maneuvered himself so that he could clearly see out both open ends of the barn. “Yes ma’am, I’m Mark Singleton,” he answered.

Breathe, I reminded myself, extending my right hand. “I’m Saphrona Caldwell, Mr. Singleton. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Finally, I added silently. God knows I’ve waited long enough.

Mark shook my hand with a firm grip, and I liked that he didn’t make it all soft just because I was a girl, like some men did. I returned it enthusiastically. “So what made you decide to answer my ad, Mr. Singleton?” I asked, doing my best to ignore the electrical current that had raced up my arm when our hands touched.

“To be honest with you, ma’am, I really need a job,” he answered sincerely. “I’ve been out of the Corps over a year, ‘cause I needed the time, but I need to get back to earning a living. And I need to get out of my parents’ house.”

The last he said with a grin, so I returned it with a smile of my own. “The Corps? You mean the Marines?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yes ma’am. Spent the last twelve years with the United States Marine Corps—well, eleven of the last twelve years. Straight outta high school.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I see. So tell me, Mr. Singleton, just what does a man with eleven years of dedicated military service know about farming?”

Mark laughed. “Jack shit nothing, in all honesty—pardon my bad English,” he said. “But like I said, I really need a job. And I’m a Marine, which means I can take orders with the best of ‘em. You tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Show me what to do once and you won’t have to show me again. I actually did spend some summers at my grandparents’ farm up until I was nine, but they fell on hard times and had to sell it.”

He paused, placing his hands on his hips as he looked at me. “Ms. Caldwell, I can see you’re skeptical. I’ve no doubt you’d prefer someone with more farming experience, and I’m a freakin’ jarhead. I know jack about cows and pigs except what they become in the way of food. But I’m a hard worker, I won’t complain about shoveling sh—crap, digging holes, none of it.”

I tried not to smile too much. Here he was making an impassioned plea for me to hire him, and I was already planning to do so for the simple fact that I’d been dreaming about him for over two hundred years. No way in hell was I going to turn away my soulmate because he hadn’t set foot on a farm since he was nine. I had to get to know him and learn everything I could about him—especially what had happened to his mother that had turned him into an immortal human. Obviously I knew she’d been bitten by a vampire during her pregnancy, and he’d used the word “parents” so it was reasonable to assume that his mother had survived the attack.

But then I had to wonder if perhaps he’d been referring to a stepmother. After all, I couldn’t imagine his birth mother having been bitten and received enough draculin to turn her unborn son into an immortal human, but not turn her into a vampire. My instincts told me that either she had been turned or she had died. I would feel an even deeper kinship with him if the latter were the case, as my own mother had died giving birth to me.

I also could not help but wonder if Mark even knew about his condition. Dhunphyr were truly so rare as to be practically non-existent—a myth among mythological beings. Yet here one was, standing right in front of me. I had almost missed the truth because my senses had identified him as human before they had identified him as an immortal. Was that because I hadn’t been paying full attention or was it some trait specific to his kind?

I cleared my throat, and for the sake of keeping up appearances asked him, “Why do you want this job then, if you’ve no real farming experience?”

Mark shrugged. “Should I take a job more suited to my talents? Maybe. But there ain’t none out there for an inactive Marine, except perhaps being a cop or a government spook. I’ve already spent a third of my life as government property, and quite frankly I’d rather like to be my own property for a while. To me, any job is better than no job. You’re offering a place to stay on top of that. Is it possible I’m not going to be very good at it? Sure. Is it possible I’m gonna screw something up? Sure again. I know it’ll take me some time to get the hang of the routine, but I’m a quick study. Like I said, I’m a hard worker. And I can promise you I’m trustworthy. Once I get the routine down, you won’t have to be looking over my shoulder every ten minutes.”

“Sounds good to me. But you might change your mind when you see the apartment—it’s on top of the barn,” I said, pointing over our heads.

He glanced up as I moved past him and over to a door on the right side of the barn. When I’d had half the hayloft converted into an apartment, I’d removed the ladder on the outside of the tack room, and had put stairs inside it that led up to the living space. Whoever I hired would live there, and would be able to enter through a door on the outside of the barn and one inside. I grabbed a set of keys from a nail on the wall and led him up the narrow staircase, where I unlocked the door and gestured for Mark to precede me inside.

He looked around for a moment at the combined living room and kitchen area, then turned to me saying, “That the bedroom over there?”

I looked where he pointed toward the other end of the room. Indeed, I had closed off the bedroom and the bathroom. Nodding, I replied, “Yes. The door on the right is to the bathroom, the one on the left is the bedroom. As you can see, all the basic furniture is here, but if you have or want something of your own, you’re welcome to bring it in.”

I turned then and pointed at the front wall, where I had exchanged the bay doors used for loading and unloading hay for a set of French doors (another set of bay doors had been cut into the rear wall of the loft for hay storage). On warm days, of which there soon wouldn’t be any, whoever lived up here would be able to open those doors for a nice breeze and lots of natural sunlight.

“You’ll be able to haul anything heavy up through those doors, if you can figure out how,” I said.

“I’m sure what you have is fine, Ms. Caldwell,” Mark said. “I ain’t a picky fellow.”

I took a moment to study him, though in my dreams these last two centuries I had already memorized every line, every curve. He seemed to sincerely want the job, though I still couldn’t fathom why he’d want a job he didn’t really know how to do. Not that it mattered overmuch to me, as I was just glad to have him here. I couldn’t wait for the days and nights ahead of getting to know him.

Of course, in so doing, I was eventually going to have to tell him the truth about who and what I was—and what he was, if he didn’t already know.

“Well, I do need the help, and since you’re so willing to become my indentured servant,” I joked, which earned me a smile, “I guess all that’s left is to haggle price and payment method.”

“What, uh, what were you thinking to offer?” Mark asked.

I’d been planning to offer three hundred a week and let potential applicants negotiate for a higher pay, but considering who had actually applied for the job…

“Seven hundred a week, which I can pay you in cash, or I can get income tax forms and pay you by check,” I replied.

Mark whistled. “Wow, that’s pretty generous. More than what I was thinking,” he said.

I shrugged even though I figured it was probably a lot less than he’d been making as a Marine—but then I knew nothing about military pay grades, so it could have been a lot more. “I keep three to four horses at a time—one stallion, one broodmare, and their offspring. I have a bull and five cows for a total of six cattle, one boar and ten sows in the way of pigs, and a dozen hens for egg-laying. I’ve a paddock and two pastures that are fenced in and a hayfield where I grow my own hay.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Doesn’t sound like much, but at the same time, sounds like too much for one person. Can I ask how long you’ve had this place and how long you’ve been running it by yourself?”

I was prepared for the inevitability of such a question, and for right now, I gave him the public answer. “This farm has been in my family since 1846, believe it or not. Always been small, though it was bigger once and there used to be another house on the property for the hands. I’ve had it for the last five years.”

“Been by yourself the whole time?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” I replied. “But right now, I’ve a situation where I’m faced with the need for help, so I placed that ad—had actually forgotten about it because no one’s responded. At least until you came along.”

“May I ask how you can afford to pay so much? Twenty-eight hundred a month seems a bit much if it’s so small a farm,” Mark wondered.

I chuckled. “Herugrim, my current stallion, is a descendant of Celtic Thunder, one of the most famous race horses of the early 20 century. Colts and fillies sired by Thunder’s progeny fetch a fair price. I also charge stud fees for breeding with other mares, and I sell his sperm. Then there’s the fact that each of my cows produce a calf each year—I sell the bull’s sperm, too—and my sows produce a litter numbering between ten and twelve on average twice a year, which means I’m selling about two hundred piglets in a given year.”

Mark laughed. “Obviously I don’t mean to offend, it’s just that you hear stories about how hard it is on a farm, and how prices of livestock have gone down and such.”

“None taken,” I replied. “And those are both very real scenarios, which the farm has faced more than once over the years, but right now it’s doing very well. Have you thought about how you want to be paid?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want either of us to get in trouble with the IRS, so I suppose it would be best you get those forms, so everything’s nice and legal.”

I nodded and then turned back for the door. “You’re probably right. It’s just that I’ve never had help here before, so I wasn’t entirely sure what to do. My accountant also recommended going that route.”

Mark followed me back down the stairs after I had locked the door to the apartment. As we descended, I told him that I would not charge for electric and water, which the barn was already equipped with for the animals’ needs, but if he wanted cable or his own phone line, he was going to have to pay for them himself. I then said I could call my accountant and have her fax me the income tax forms so that we could take care of that today, or he could come back tomorrow and we’d take care of it then. He elected to get the paperwork done today so I invited him into my house.

“Nice place,” he commented as we entered through the back door. “This the original homestead?”

“The ground floor is, though there’ve been some renovations over the years,” I replied, then offered him a drink. I had tea and soda in the fridge, and upon hearing that I was also a fan of Mt. Dew, he asked for a can of that. I handed him a cold can and said I would return shortly. I then went into my office and made a call to Farrah Johnson, my accountant, and asked her to fax over the employment forms we’d discussed when I first placed the want ad. They arrived within minutes and I was back in the kitchen in about ten.

“Sorry that took so long,” I said as I laid the forms and a pen in front of Mark and joined him at my kitchen table.

“No problem,” he replied politely, dragging the forms closer.

As he began to fill them out, I got up again and retrieved my own drink from the refrigerator—a Mt. Dew, of course, as I obviously could not drink blood in front of him. Not yet. As I sat back down, I realized I was feeling very nervous all of a sudden. Here in my house, sitting at my table just a couple of feet away from me, was my dream lover. My soulmate, who was supposed to complete me by bonding with me physically, mentally, even spiritually (though most vampires ignored the spiritual aspect of pair-bonding). I’d been waiting over two centuries for him, and now that I had him I honestly didn’t know what to do next. I’d expected to bond with a human at some point, as vampires rarely bonded with other vampires—but certainly not with an immortal human. I suspected he hadn’t the faintest clue that vampires were real, and I couldn’t help but wonder how he would take the news when I told him. I also wondered if he had any idea that he was more than just human, but I didn’t think so. I mean, the man had grown up with a family and had gone into the Marines—if he’d had any idea what he really was, I could understand the Marine thing, as he’d be less afraid of dying than his fellow soldiers. But then he would also have grown up in the supernatural world as I had, and I’d have probably heard about him by now.

He made quick work of filling out the forms and then slid them back toward me. I went over them to make sure he’d filled out all the necessary parts and nodded.

“Well, Mr. Singleton—”

He chuckled. “You can call me Mark if you like, Ms. Caldwell.”

I had to smile. “Of course. And you’re welcome to call me Saphrona instead of ‘Ms. Caldwell.’ Especially as opposed to ‘ma’am,’ which makes me sound like a school teacher or an old maid.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that,” he said with a grin.

“Now that I’ve the paperwork all ready to send to my accountant, I had better get back to work,” I said, standing reluctantly. “You’re also welcome to begin moving in tonight if you want, or tomorrow if it’s more convenient for you.”

Mark stood as well. “Actually, tonight would be great. I appreciate that. By the way, I have a dog of my own—hope that won’t be a problem.”

I raised an eyebrow. “No, shouldn’t be as long as he or she gets along with Moe and Cissy and doesn’t harass the other animals. Of course, if the dog does become a nuisance I’ll have to ask you to find other accommodations for it.”

He nodded. “I understand. But Angel’s a really good dog, she shouldn’t have a problem leaving the livestock alone once I make sure she understands not to bother them. I could even try to train her to help round up the cows and horses if you like.”

I grinned. “Why don’t we wait and see how your Angel behaves around the other animals first.”

We moved together toward the door and I led him back outside. We stopped next to his truck and I turned to face him. “I have to say, it’s going to take some getting used to, having help around here—having someone else living on the property other than myself. Hopefully you and I will get along famously and there won’t be any problems.”

Mark grinned as he opened the driver’s side door. “Hopefully, indeed. And I have to admit that I’m looking forward to a nice, quiet life.”

I laughed and moved away from the vehicle so he could get into it. “You won’t think it so quiet when you’ve got horses neighing, cows mooing, pigs squealing and chickens clucking at odd hours.”

He flashed me a wry grin as he climbed into the truck and shut the door. “Better than exploding bombs and machine-gun fire,” he said. “Be seeing you, Ms. Caldwell, and thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Mark,” I replied. “See you later.”

Mark nodded and started his truck, then with a last nod and a wave, he backed down the driveway. I watched until he had pulled out into the road and drove away, feeling suddenly forlorn without him there. I shook myself after a moment for being silly and turned back for the barn. There was nothing to be morose about, because Mark would be back soon.



*****



When he did return about ninety minutes later, I had just finished clearing out the last of the stalls and was preparing to clear out the pigs’ indoor habitat. I stood sharply when I sensed not just one, but two supernatural presences when the red Dodge Ram pulled back into the driveway, its bed loaded with boxes. Mark nodded at me as I walked out of the barn to greet him, my eyes roaming around casually to locate where the other life-force was coming from. When I looked back at my new hired hand he was climbing out of his truck, and was followed by a beautiful black, gray, and white Siberian Husky with ice blue eyes that belied intelligence far beyond the canine norm. When Angel held my gaze, I realized that she was the other supe—Mark’s dog was a shapeshifter.

I shook my head, wondering just what I had done to deserve all these complications in my life all in one day. I hushed Moe and Cissy as I approached the new arrivals, as they had begun barking madly at Angel. With a quick flick of her eyes at me, she trotted over to the kennel and stuck her nose through the fence so my Chihuahuas could smell her.

“Beautiful dog,” I said to Mark. “How long have you had her?”

He glanced at the dogs’ getting-to-know-you session. “I’ve had Angel since I came home. My mother got her for me, thought I could use the companionship.”

I again wondered briefly about his mother, but dismissed the thought quickly as I had more pressing matters on my mind. “She get her from a shelter or a breeder?”

“Actually, Mom said she started wandering the neighborhood right before I got back from Afghanistan. Nobody was claiming her, so she took her in. Not unusual, though, ‘cause we’ve always had a dog, and Mom’s a sucker for a pretty face.”

Just then Angel turned away from Moe and Cissy and walked back over to stand at Mark’s side, nosing his leg until he bent to scratch her behind the ears. I couldn’t help thinking, Yeah, that’s right—keep playing the game, sister, wondering just what in the world her game actually was. I definitely meant to find out.

“You know, I’ve always thought dogs were among the most intelligent of domestic animals,” I said lightly. “They can be taught to do so many things, and their eyes are so expressive. I swear sometimes that Moe and Cissy are trying to talk to me when they look at me. Makes me wish they really could talk to me, so I would know what they were thinking.”

Angel looked up at me then, and I knew that she was aware I was trying to convey the message that I wanted to talk to her—in human form—as soon as it was feasible. As my bondmate, Mark’s safety and well-being were of my utmost concern, and if there was something going on with this shapeshifter, I needed to know what it was and what the hell it had to do with Mark.

I offered to help Mark haul his belongings up to the apartment and he accepted with a smile. We made small talk as we made several trips back and forth; he asked me about my dogs and the other animals on the farm, mentioning that he recognized Herugrim’s name from The Lord of the Rings. I told him that all four of my horses had names from Tolkien’s masterpiece because he’d actually modeled the elves loosely around the ancient Celts, and since Herugrim’s great-grandsire was named Celtic Thunder I was simply keeping up with tradition…sort of. The sire and dam I currently had were named after swords and their twin sons were named after horses from the trilogy.

“Actually, this was Hadhafang’s last year for breeding,” I informed him as we were carrying the last of the boxes up. “She’s twenty now and to have any more would be too much stress on her body.”

“You gonna keep her?” Mark asked, setting his box down and taking the one I carried from me.

“I’ve actually been considering donating her to a children’s farm. There’s a special one in Connecticut that caters to children with serious illnesses,” I said. “She can be ridden for another few years and the children would get so much enjoyment out of her. She’s got the perfect temperament to be around children.”

“That’s real nice of you,” Mark commented. “What about the others?”

I shrugged. “Hasufeld I’m selling in the spring, and Herugrim I’m considering selling to another breeder who wants to breed champions of his own, so that Brego can take his place here. Means I’ll have to get me another good mare, but that won’t be too difficult.” With a sigh, I reluctantly fished the apartment key from my pocket and handed it to him, then turned for the door. “I’ll leave you to get settled, since there’s still a little more to get done in the barn.”

“Hey, when do I get started? Tomorrow?”

I nodded. “Up at seven to feed and water. The cows and horses get turned out at nine, pigs let out into their pen and chickens into theirs at the same time, all get brought in at dusk. Water and food in the troughs once the animals are inside. The horses get a good brushing each night. The pigs’ outdoor pen is cleared of manure every morning before they’re let out, and all the indoor stalls are cleared after the animals are let out. The chicken coop I also clean daily after the birds are outside. Eggs are collected each morning after the chickens are let out for the day—keeps ‘em from pecking at you when you pick up their eggs. Stalls are completely mucked once a week, and so is the birdhouse. Every other day, I ride and check the fences. And one day next week I’m going to be harvesting my last cut of hay. Friday I’ll also be heading to Tractor Supply for feed.”

Mark nodded as I spoke. “Sounds like tomorrow’s gonna be a busy day.”

“Indeed it will, Mark,” I said, opening the door. “Better get plenty of sleep.”

I descended the stairs and went back to work, trying to keep my mind off of the man walking around above my head. I kept reminding myself that there was plenty of time to get to know one another and sort out the truth, but I couldn’t help wondering about his origins, whether or not he knew he was different, and why in the world he had a shapeshifter for a pet. Thinking about Angel made me wonder what her agenda was, why she was pretending to be this docile canine when she was definitely much more than that. What was she up to?

As if responding to my thoughts, Angel walked up to the open gate of the pigpen and sat on her haunches, watching me. I stopped and leaned on the pitchfork as I returned the dog’s steady gaze.

“Why are you here?” I murmured aloud. “Does it have something to do with Mark being a dhunphyr?”

Though I had been mostly speaking to myself, Angel had still heard me, and at my last she nodded slowly. I felt my eyes widen a fraction. Not because she had understood me—I knew full well shapeshifters could understand human speech in animal form—but because she had responded at all. I stood straighter as I looked down on her.

“You’ve known the whole time, haven’t you?” Another nod. “We’re gonna talk, Angel, or whatever your name is. Because that man up there is important to me, and I won’t have him harmed, is that understood? If whatever you’re about is about hurting him, in any way, make no mistake—you will regret it.”