After Liv, Peter, and Tiffany left – with a promise to check back in a few days and a warning that Jenny be careful – Jenny finally went inside the darkened house. The sun had set and full dark had rolled in during the talk on the front porch. Jenny walked around the first floor, turning on lights and wondering once again where her foster parents were. She found her answer in the kitchen in the form of a note filled with her mom's scribbles: "Jenny, Went to visit old friends in Chicago for the day. Didn't want to wake you, you looked exhausted. Be back probably late tonight. Love, Mom and Dad"
Although they were her foster parents, they might as well have been Jenny's real parents. She'd been with them almost from the beginning, since a year after her parents were murdered when she was eight. She still remembered the night vividly. Her family – her parents and older brother Paul – had been coming back from a movie when their ancient heap of a station wagon had suddenly begun shuddering violently. Jenny's father had barely had time to pull over to the side of the road before the car died.
Jenny remembered sitting in the back seat, next to Paul, gazing at her father with wide eyes. She wasn't sure what was going on, but she knew that it was not good, not good at all. Her father had shared a worried look with her mother, then moved to get out of the car.
"Stay in the car and lock the doors," he had warned, then walked to the front of the car to pop the hood.
As had happened many times in her life, 17-year-old Jenny and her surroundings receded when she thought of that night. Like a movie, the scene unfolded in her mind, unstoppable.
"Mom, where are we?" Eleven-year-old Paul asked, leaning forward in his seat to get a better look out the front window, ignoring the long blond hair falling in his eyes.
Jenny's mother gave a tight-lipped smile. "We're in town, Paul. Just sit back and be quiet."
Paul sat back with a sigh. Jenny stared out the window, trying not to notice the darkness of the street, the lack of life. Though she was still young, Jenny knew they were in a bad part of town. That meant trouble. "Can't daddy hurry?" she asked.
"He's going as fast as he can, honey," her mother answered without turning around in her seat. Her gaze remained locked on the dark figure of her father standing in front of the car.
Suddenly, the hood slammed down, and Jenny saw two figures in front of the car. Someone was out there talking to her father. Because of the poor lighting in this area, Jenny couldn't see more than just the shadowy outline of the visitor, but she got a bad feeling from him, nonetheless.
She could see her father shaking his head, calmly at first, then more emphatically as the man made motions with his hands. Then the two figures seemed to merge into one; the stranger had stepped up to her father and grabbed him. It looked like the stranger was kissing her father's neck! Jenny felt vaguely confused by this.
Her mother let out an ear-piercing scream, as the stranger stepped back and her father fell to the ground, out of their view. Jenny and Paul both reacted with a scream of their own.
"Oh God, Jack!" her mother was screaming, tearing at the door handle.
"Mom, don't go out there!" Paul, suddenly the reasonable one, cried. Too late. Their mother pushed open the door and stepped out.
Then Jenny noticed a number of figures emerging from the darkness against the buildings. Probably half a dozen of them. Frightened, Jenny crawled to the floor of the car and curled up in a ball, crying. "Paul," she sobbed. "What's going on?"
Paul shook his head, eyes wide, the whites showing. He waved his hand at her. "Stay down, Jenny."
Another scream suddenly shook the night, animal-like in its intensity. Jenny realized it was her mother. She covered her ears and shut her eyes, trying to block everything out. When she opened her eyes a few minutes later, Paul was no longer in the car.
"Paul?!" she shrieked. She scrambled onto the seat again. Outside the window, she could see two dark figures lying on the ground. A third, smaller one, was being held by two of the strangers. Her eyes caught the dull gleam of white at their mouths. Teeth, but they were too long! Tears coursing down her cheeks, Jenny crawled to the open passenger side door and pulled it shut, locking it. Then everything seemed to go black.
She awoke in the hospital to the news that her parents and her brother were all dead. The police said it was a random gang-related incident. They had probably hoped to steal the car, they said. Jenny was lucky they hadn't taken her too.
It was no gang, Jenny knew intuitively. She didn't know what it was, but it was not a normal incident. She only found out three years later when she was approached by Daniel, the man who later told her the truth about that night and agreed to train her to get her revenge on the murderers – on the vampires.
She had been alone in her stakings for five years, until the year before, when Mari had approached her. Mari told her that she and two others were also vampire hunters, trying to form a gang of sorts. She convinced Jenny that more damage could be done in a group, and Jenny became a part of The Executioners. At first, it had only been Jenny, Raina, Mari, and Michael. Gunther had joined a few months later, and Carl became a part of the gang almost a year later. They all shared the same purpose: to try and rid the world of as much vampire scum as they could.
Jenny had been placed in the home of John and Marie Sinclaire, an older couple unable to have children. They had treated her as their own, and as her memory of her real parents gradually faded, Jenny began to think of them as her parents.
Now they were in Chicago for the day. Jenny knew they probably would not be back before 11; Chicago was two hours' drive away, and her parents hadn't gone out in a long time. It was probably for the better. They would be safer away from here.
Jenny shook her head, trying to shake off the memory of the murders. She was standing at the kitchen table, her hands gripping the edge tightly as she stared down at the note.
Exhaling, she let go of the table and stepped back. She glanced at the calendar and realized with a jolt that it was already October 20th. She remembered Ashton saying she thought that something was going to happen on Halloween. Less than two weeks away!
"Oh great," she muttered to herself. Less than two weeks to find out what was going to happen, and where. At least she knew who was behind it, but she found little comfort in that fact.
Her mind awhirl with the events of the day, Jenny suddenly felt very tired. With a yawn, she thumped up the stairs to her room and threw herself down on her bed. She fell asleep almost instantly.
***********
Jenny wasn't asleep for very long when a faint noise woke her. She lay in bed for a few seconds trying to figure out what she'd heard. It was one of those times where she knew she'd heard something, but couldn't remember what exactly the sound was.
The sound of footsteps downstairs made her sit upright. She suddenly realized what the sound was that she'd heard – the front door closing.
Slowly, she slid off her bed, all her senses turned toward her door. It sounded like the person was in the kitchen now. They were making too much noise to be Night World. Good. Jenny could handle an everyday burglar if that was all it was.
She crept carefully down the stairs, her back to the wall. She had left all the lights on downstairs, thankfully. Whoever it was wouldn't be able to hide.
The noises in the kitchen suddenly stopped. Jenny narrowed her eyes and stopped at the bottom of the stairs, next to the kitchen entrance. After a few seconds of silence, she decided to go for it. She jumped around the corner into the kitchen.
Inside the kitchen, she froze. Nobody was there. Feeling vaguely confused, she stared around the kitchen. Nothing appeared to be disturbed.
She frowned. "Am I going crazy?" she said to herself softly.
Or maybe, she thought, the sounds weren't coming from the kitchen. Maybe you only thought they were.
Her eyes widened as the thought struck her full-force. If the person was in the living room, then her back was exposed to them. She paused, a shiver running up her back.
Taking a deep breath, she whirled around – and found herself staring at the shirt of someone standing directly behind her.
Involuntarily, she screamed and struck out with a fist while stepping back. Her hand connected, followed by a grunt of pain.
Then, "Jenny?! What are you doing?"
The tension overriding her system retreated at the sound of the familiar voice. Jenny looked up at the face. "Michael? What are you doing here?"
He stared at her, an eyebrow raised and a hand rubbing his jaw. "Getting beaten to death, apparently," he said, only semi-sarcastically.
"Oh God," Jenny said, covering her mouth with her right hand, then reaching up to touch his jaw. "I'm so sorry! I heard noises down here, and I thought…" She stopped talking and just stared at him, an apologetic grin on her face.
He nodded. "I understand. I shouldn't have come in. But nobody was answering the door, and your car was here and the lights were on. The door wasn't locked, and I guess I thought maybe something had happened to you." He shrugged and grinned back down at her.
"I'm sorry. I was sleeping. I didn't even realize I'd left the door unlocked." She walked into the kitchen and got out a cold pack, tossing it to Michael. He winced as he held it to his face. Jenny leaned against the counter and watched him. "So tell me, why are you here?"
He nodded. "Well, I went home after we talked to Ashton, and I was sitting there and I suddenly realized that it probably wasn't a good idea for all of us to be by ourselves right now. They could come at any time, for any of us. If we stay together, we have more of a chance."
Jenny raised her eyebrows. "You're absolutely right. Why didn't that ever occur to me?" She paused, thinking. "But where would we go?"
Michael walked up next to her. "I've already thought of that. We can stay at my place. My dad is out of town on business for the week, and we'd have the place all to ourselves." Jenny thought she sensed some bitterness in his words, but she couldn't be sure.
"That sounds great," she said. "Let me get some things, and we'll go get Gunther."
Michael nodded. "I'll be right here." He stood back against the counter and leaned his face into the ice pack, shutting his eyes. For a second, all Jenny could do was stare at him, her body tingling with the familiar fluttery feeling that she got whenever she was anywhere near him. She forced herself to look away and walked out of the kitchen.
As she climbed the stairs, still thinking about Michael, she found her thoughts haunted by the image of another dark-haired person. This one didn't have eyes like black holes, though. Almost exactly the opposite: that pale, pale blue.
Jenny shook her head. No. Damian was not who (or what) she wanted! He was a vampire for God's sake! It was just totally not plausible.
She was still objecting to her own thoughts when she entered her room. The thoughts were soon to be chased out.
The door slammed shut behind her, efficiently cutting off any light coming from downstairs. Before she could move, something came at her, smashing into her side and sending her crashing into the floor.
For a moment, all she could see were stars.