Page 6 of The Curse of Eternity (Descendants of Helsing #1)

Comfortable as I was, my mind wouldn’t stop whirring.

I would not break my family’s trust a second time.

After everything, I couldn’t lose their belief in me— again .

I said I’d eradicated the threat, and damn it, I was going to make good on my word.

Except, the more I thought about the last few hours, the less sense I could make of the whole night.

I must have fallen asleep on the ride home. Because I had to be dreaming if I was starting to consider that maybe—just maybe—the vampire was telling the truth.

Light filtered in through my east-facing window past sheer curtains, and the sun’s rays glared across my analog clock’s glass surface.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek while watching the little red hand ticking away atop my nightstand.

It wasn’t until both hands stood straight up, officially making it ‘afternoon,’ that I hauled myself off my decadently soft pillow.

Then the aches hit me, vibrating all the way up my side and through my funny bone. My exterior was healed, but a fight still stung the next day on my sore muscles. Regret laid heavy over my chest, twisting my heart and lungs as I debated telling everyone the truth.

It would make hunting the vampire a lot easier if my family was involved.

They’d come up with a plan, and deduce his whereabouts with a radius of probable locations based on how long it took the vampire to drive me back.

Even taking into account that he might have obscured the route on purpose, the Tsosie family had a network in Albuquerque as old as the clay dirt, which would help us track the sucker.

All I had to do was admit that I’d lied.

Chewing on my lip all morning might have left a permanent dent, but at least it stopped me from shouting in frustration. Because the extent of my uselessness was irritating. Not only did the vampire beat me more than once, he’d driven me back —relatively unharmed.

That’s the part that really crushed me, because I couldn’t figure it out. Okay, so he said he didn’t drink people-blood—was that even possible for the undead? Despite the stack of books on lore sitting in our family’s library, I was clueless.

Years of at-home lessons with my cousins to ‘know our enemy’ hadn’t proved fruitful in my case. The whole time we were sitting around the dining table, meant to be studying up on vampire history and anatomy, I was sharpening my machete.

It’s not like I hated learning or reading, I just couldn’t wait to get out there and live it.

After all the stories that Grandpa told us growing up, tales of his and our ancestors’ brave efforts taking out vile monsters, I wanted nothing more than to be a part of that.

Until I turned eighteen, and joined my first vampire hunt.

Maybe if Mom was still around… Nope, I was not going down that sinkhole.

I patted my face with my cold hands to wake myself up, and promptly shot up out of bed, aches be damned.

Wincing, I limped over to where my dresser stood, shoved against the wall opposite my bed.

The ceiling fan high above was stationary, unnecessary with the temperate springtime air drifting in through my open window.

What had once been one of several offices that belonged to the Holy Trinity Church had since been transformed into a modern bedroom—at least, what was modern in the 1930s when my great grandfather bought it out of foreclosure.

Sure, we’d gotten weird looks growing up in Thomas Village, as the family of woodworkers who lived in a church.

Hence the vanity by the door, which had been a handcrafted birthday present from Johann when I was twelve.

My dresser was a family hand-me-down, built by my grandfather back in the ‘80s.

Regardless of what our neighbors thought about us, this was home.

Had been for generations, and we were here to stay.

Fully dressed, I shambled out into the long stretch of hallway.

At the end was the closed door to Johann’s study—our family’s ‘library’ and where Uncle Alaric managed the woodworking store’s finances.

Behind me was the stained-glass window, haloing my shadow in a rosy glow as I made my way to the third door on the right.

Bright sunshine pooled over the hardwood floor where it met the kitchen’s tile.

I raised my hand to cover a yawn, and smacked into something hard.

“Ow!” I rubbed my forehead.

“Ugh, damn it,” Andrew grumbled.

“Language, Andrew!” Aunt Susan scolded from her position before the stove, and the spicy scent of sizzling sausages made my mouth water.

“Watch where you’re going next time,” Andrew muttered, without looking at me, and bypassed me into the hall. I rolled my throbbing eyes when his bedroom door slammed shut.

Sweat beaded Aunt Susan’s brow beneath her dirty blonde hair, tied back in a knot.

Beside her, Ethan’s begrudging frown was second-rate compared to Andrew’s permanent sneer, but the brotherly resemblance was there.

My younger cousin’s hair, almost identical in color to his mother’s, shifted across the rim of his prescription glasses.

“You know, people who wear glasses should be exempt from doing dishes. They keep fogging up,” Ethan complained, taking a dish in rubber-gloved hands before ruthlessly scrubbing it.

The pinkish pallor he’d inherited from his mother flushed red with a huff.

“In fact, it should be considered child abuse to force me into this.”

“You’re part of this family, and you’ve got no job otherwise, so you’re helping out,” Aunt Susan chided.

Ethan’s retort died in his throat, miserably shaking his head.

Attempting to get in and out for my caffeine fix without alerting the media, I tip-toed around the kitchen island. Then the back door opened.

“Oh, good! You’re up. I was going to come check on you,” Olivia said, her smile brimming, which immediately garnered Aunt Susan’s attention.

“Oh, dear, how are you feeling?” she asked me, her thin eyebrows pulling together in concern over her dark blue eyes. Ethan spared me a glance, and then went back to his chore.

“I’m fine,” I assured, stifling a wince when I reached up to grab a mug. “Just a little sore.”

“Yes, I expect so.” Aunt Susan nodded, returning to her cooking but clearly discomfited. “If you ask me, you’re all too young for this ‘hunting’ business.”

“So dramatic, Sue,” Uncle Alaric called out from the backyard, a moment before he entered the kitchen behind his daughter. Olivia moved aside to make room while her father went to the sink, probably to wash varnish off of his beefy hands.

Ethan took the opportunity to vacate the space, several dishes left unwashed, since Uncle Alaric was as broad as a bodybuilder and just as muscled.

My uncle wasn’t as tall as his older brother, Johann, but their similarities were obvious despite their polar opposite demeanors.

Affable emotion twinkled in my uncle’s blue-gray eyes as he winked at me, and his bushy mustache twitched.

“Heard everything that happened. Sounds like you had a hell of a night.”

“Something like that,” I replied, my gut twisting.

To avoid telling another lie, I brought my cup of black coffee to my lips and drank deeply.

Blissful caffeine zinged through me, courtesy of Johann’s specialty beans imported from who-knew-where.

Aunt Susan gave Uncle Alaric a gentle smack with the kitchen towel.

“A ‘heck of a night’ is one way to look at it.” Aunt Susan never swore, or took the Lord’s name in vain.

Maybe being a lifelong Catholic had also made it easier for her to accept our family’s legacy—or she was just a tough lady to begin with.

Except she melted like butter when Uncle Alaric turned to her, and planted a kiss on her rosy cheek.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Olivia whispered, momentarily distracted by Ethan silently heading out the back door, his pack of Marlboros and lighter in hand. Frowning, her stare quickly returned to boring into my skull like she could decipher my well-being through sheer willpower.

“I’m fine,” I ground out, quiet under the murmurs of Aunt Susan and Uncle Alaric’s open flirting. “I wish you’d stop asking me. You all fought vamps last night, too, and I’m not hounding y’all with a thermometer and stethoscope.”

“That’s different,” Olivia said, imploring, like I was being unreasonable.

“The rest of us had each other’s backs. You were alone .

It must have been awful.” Her honest concern cracked my irritation, pushing the unease and guilt back to the forefront.

Had that been how she’d felt—alone—abandoned?

I swallowed down the rest of my coffee, eager for a change in topic.

“Where’s my dad?” I glanced from the adjacent dining room to the alcove beside the refrigerator, which hosted our washer and dryer.

“He’s still in the shed out back, I think, working on the latest commission,” Olivia said, but by the look in her wide eyes, she wasn’t done with our conversation.

“I was thinking, if you wanted to go back together to look for your keychain—” Her offer was cut short by the ringing coming from my pocket.

Grateful for the distraction, I fished out my phone and checked the Caller ID. Sweet mercy was being delivered. Forcing a smile, I sidestepped Olivia to head back into the hall.

“It’s Everly, I should take this,” I said, and Olivia nodded. On my way out, I caught her frowning down at the floor. Heart heavy and sinking, I answered the phone with a sigh. “Hi, Eve.”

“Hey, Maria. What’s going on?” Everly’s bubbly high voice brightened my mood, even if she did sound concerned.

“Well, lots, actually.” I couldn’t tell my family the truth, but Everly… She was the one person outside of my family, and the Tsosies, who was in-the-know.

Everly giggled. “I had a feeling. That’s why I called.”

“You’re an angel,” I assured. “Mind if I stop by to vent?”

“I’m at the shop right now, getting things set up for business,” Everly answered, obviously giddy about her new venture as a self-employed entrepreneur. “But I could always use the extra hand.”

“Great. Thank you,” I stammered, my heart racing at the relief of being able to come clean to someone . Hopefully in doing so, I’d figure out the next step in hunting down my secret vampire. I cringed at the thought— he wasn’t my vampire— and added, “I’ll see you soon.”