Vampires don't breathe. It made the silence between them unbearable.
"You're not going to attack me?" Deandra asked.
Allister tilted his head in amusement. "You seem disappointed."
"I'm surprised. There's a difference." She snapped.
His eyes dropped briefly to the dagger in her hand. "You're holding that rather tightly."
Allister leaned in closer. Deandra immediately prepared herself to attack. "One more step, and this goes into your chest. Do not push me beast.”
He stopped moving forward. Allister looked at the blade as though it were an inconvenience. "Put the dagger away," he said.
"No."
"Then you'll never hear the truth."
"I don't care about your truth."
"You should." His voice changed. The amusement vanished. Allister got serious. "You've been lied to, Deandra."
Her blood went cold. She hadn't told him her name. Allister saw the realization on her face.
"I know many things about you. Your father was Gabriel. A man with quite a reputation.”
Nobody spoke her father's name. Not anymore. The vampire’s audacity angered her. She lunged, forcing the blade toward his chest. He twisted aside, and the dagger missed his heart by inches.
"Keep my father's name out of your mouth.” Deandra shouted.
He shoved her, making her fly back several feet, landing on a broken down, wooden pew. It hurt. The dagger was still in his chest, so she pulled another one from its holster.
Dark red blood spilled from his chest. It was so dark it was almost black. Allister grimaced as he pulled the dagger out. Deandra got up quickly. She was disappointed in herself. The Order taught control and she had briefly lost it.
He just stood there, waiting for her next move. Deandra lunged again. This time slicing at his chest. Allister quickly stepped back and then forward tackling her to the ground.
She hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of her. The vampire was on top of her. His hands were around her wrist tightly. In the back of her mind she was sure this was her end. There’d be no begging or tears. She looked him square in the eyes as she noticed he was smiling.
The fact he was amused as he was about to kill a human confirmed everything she was taught. Hopefully Jacob would get away unharmed.
Before her death she wanted answers. “Why do you know my father’s name?”
Allister got serious. “I make it a habit to learn about the major players in this world. Gabriel killed many of my kind. But I don't hold it against him. He was quite intelligent and eventually pieced everything together. His death was tragic.”
“Yeah he and my sister were killed by vampires when I was 13.” She exclaimed.
Allister got off of her. He stood and walked a few feet away. “Hunters don't trust easily. I know that. Nothing I say you will believe. Let's go somewhere we can talk.”
“I don't talk with monsters, I kill them.”
She hated the fact that he had every opportunity to kill her and hadn't. It complicated things. She hated that a monster was acting more human than some people she knew.
“Did you every meet my father?”
The question seemed to hurt him more than the dagger. His expression changed. "Yes."
Deandra swallowed. She couldn't tell if he was lying but something in her gut said he was telling the truth.
“Don't go determining who the real monsters are just yet.” Allister warned her.
A loud crash came from the entrance of the chapel. Deandra turned her head to Jacob who tripped over the rubble. When she turned to look at Allister he was gone.
"Deandra, are you okay." Jacob called out.
She was in fact not okay. Not okay at all. Now there were more questions she had. There was one certainty she could rely on, vampires are killers and monsters. They should be killed on sight. For some reason she was alive and reason said she should be dead.
There was just silence. Realizing the tension she finally responded. “We got into a fight. The vampire unfortunately got away. We'll find him and finish him off next time.”
“Well, let's go back to base. We can treat any wounds you have. And the doctors can clear you for another run at that vamp.” Jacob suggested.
The pair walked out of the chapel. It began to snow softly. Deandra loved the snow when it drifted down delicately like this. It reminded her of early years.
She would play outside until she couldn't feel her toes. Only going inside because her father made her. Cold weather was superior to hot weather in her eyes.
Maybe that's why a part of her didn't mind Allister being on top of her. That thought thoroughly disturbed her.