Rancor: Vampyre Hunter (Rancor Chronicles) Read Online Free PDF Page B

faced the field behind her home, where she could look out to the ends of the Earth. A narrow stairwell that rose into the loft above their garage passed just below the sill, where her mother had once painted in hopes of becoming world famous. As a young girl Alix had visited that loft often to watch her work, but since her mother’s death she could not bring herself to visit it again. As Alix stared at the girl in the mirrored window, she turned a page in the book that rested in her curled lap, recalling that she had homework to do.
    The stairwell just outside her door creaked. Footsteps clip-clopped against the silence, interrupting her thoughts. Alix knew it was her father, probably wanting her to cook his dinner. She glanced at the digital alarm clock beside her bed. It read 6:13 p.m. She sighed, hoping this time her dad would just make his own dinner.
    He opened the door beside her wicker chair. At first Alix refused to face him. She called him “Sam” for spite, rather than “Dad.”
    Then Alix turned to face her father, taken aback by what she saw.
    He was not at all what she had grown accustomed to expect. He was clean-shaven, showered and scented with Old Spice aftershave. His thinning blond hair was cut and styled neatly to one side, and he wore over his hefty six-foot build a grey suit with a tie and a rose in the left pocket. The most striking thing, and the most pleasing, was that her father hadn’t been drinking! For the first time in three years he bore a look of optimism rather than defeat.
    “Alexandria,” Sam said, the words creating a harsh sound that was not as hopeful as his demeanor, “I’m going to interview people. I’m hiring help–for the store, I mean. I’m–I’m reopening.”
    Sam paused as if to let her open up to him. But Alix didn’t know what she should say.
    His shoulders slumped. His eyes glistened from the tears he’d held at bay. “If the house phone rings, would you answer it?”
    Her father broke eye contact with her. Alix was still staring at him in shock. There was so much she wanted to say, but the rush of emotions stunned her. A part of her wanted to bound from the wicker chair and grab him in a hug; to break out crying with such intensity that her tears would wash away his past years of drunkenness.
    But another part remembered the two years he had forced her to go at life alone. That part wished to damn him.
    She stared at her father and managed to say only, “Okay.”
    Sam smiled his first genuine, sober grin in years and gently closed the door behind him. He knew the news had overwhelmed her. Hell, even he was having difficulty accepting the situation. This hadn’t been an easy decision to come to. Clearing his throat in the hope it might calm his nerves, he wondered if he’d see his decision through to its end. He could, after all, live a few more years off his wife’s insurance money, but a long time ago he had made a promise to her. A promise he had neglected these last two years.
    Sam fixed his tie and jacket as he descended the creaky stairwell, thinking how good it felt to know he might be part of his daughter’s life again. Time had passed so quickly that when he looked at Alix she seemed almost like a stranger. A small chuckle escaped his throat when he realized he was even a stranger to himself. He needed to change so many things that there seemed too many first steps to take.
    Sam decided to wait until later to tell Alix he had joined Alcoholics Anonymous. He accepted that his drinking had grown way beyond a temporary crutch and into a deadly obsession. Two full years had passed since he was last sober. Recalling the years previous to his wife’s passing, he realized there hadn’t been many days of sobriety then, either. He had wallowed in self-pity for too long and needed to get on with life–but for it to feel worth living, he needed his daughter to be a part of it, too.
    As he walked into his dark den, Sam rubbed the brass door handle and made a