C.O.T.V.H. (Book 2): Judgment by Dustin J. Palmer Read Free Book Online

blue eyes were fixated on him.  An icy chill ran through his body.  The eyes of a killer, he thought for the second time that day.
    "Amen!" Billy said, finishing the prayer causing Jake to jump.
    "Amen." everyone echoed in response.
    "Alright let’s dig in," Billy said, dropping back into his chair.
    Jake looked back up to see Wes Turner was already fixing his plate.  Shaking off his unease, he smiled.  This was the first home cooked meal he'd had in a long time and he planned to enjoy every morsel.  He grabbed a chicken leg in each hand and dug in.
     

Chapter 2
    Jake
     
     
    The Williams Ranch
    November 26, 7:45pm
     
     
    Jake ate until he nearly burst.  He couldn’t remember ever feeling so full.  After an hour of good food, idle chitchat, long-winded stories, and more than a few laughs, most of the group had picked up their now empty plates and gone one by one.  Only he and Billy remained at the table.
    Jake finished his fourth piece of chicken and leaned back with a loud groan.
    "Boy you said, it," Billy said, unbuckling his belt and doing the same.
    "Man Mr. Williams, that was delicious.”  Jake pushed his plate forward.  “I haven’t eaten that well in years!"
    "Please Jake, call me Billy.  Mr. Williams just doesn't sound right.  Makes me feel . . . old." He chuckled lightly.
    "Okay, Billy," Jake said then sipped from his iced tea.
    Billy drummed his fingers on the dark mahogany. "Jake, son, I can’t tell you how happy I am you’re here today.  I know John had his reservations about starting your training this early, but I really think this is for the best.  You two belong with your family."
    Jake pushed the remaining food around on his plate with his fork.  “The only family I've known since Mom died is Dad and Grandpa.  It's a little overwhelming to be around so many people."
    "I know exactly what you mean," Billy nodded slowly.  “I was orphaned when I was only ten so I can definitely relate.”
    “What happened?” Jake asked without thinking.  “I’m sorry; you probably don’t want to talk about it.”
    “Oh no, don’t sweat it.”  Billy waved it away, “You’ll learn as you get older that what us ‘old’ folks love more than anything is to tell our stories.”
    “Yeah,” Jake agreed. “I know Grandpa sure does.”
    “When you get to be our age you start to realize that you may not have as many adventures ahead as you have behind, so why not tell them, embellish them, and when all else fails . . . make them up!”  He laughed.
    Jake laughed with him, “So the story about you and Grandpa killing all those grunts after you ran out of ammo?  Is that one of those made up stories?”
    “Probably!”  Billy laughed even harder.  “Then again, maybe not.” He stopped laughing sobering up a bit.  “Truthfully Jake, I’ve killed so many vampires over the years I can barely keep track of them all.  After a while, the hunts all blend into one big terrifying nightmare that causes you to wake up screaming in the middle of the night.  The victories fade and what you remember most are the mistakes you made along the way.”  Billy sighed deeply.   “So anyway, on to my story.”
    “I guess the best place to start would be with my father.  He worked in a slaughterhouse in Chicago and died in an industrial accident way back in . . . 1943. I believe it was.  To be honest I barely remember him.”  Billy’s eyes stared off into space.  “I remember he used to read to me every night when he got home from work and that he loved his coffee with lots of sugar in it,” his eyes focused back on Jake.  “Other than that I’ve only got flashes of what I think he looked like.”
    “What about your mom?  What happened to her?”
    “A couple of years after Dad died, when I was about seven, maybe eight years old, she got sick.  Really sick, and couldn’t take care of me anymore.  Tuberculosis . . . man I’m telling you it was bad.”  Billy furrowed his brow and