The Dimidiums Book One Bound by Love

By DM Yates

Trevor Dittmar, a world-famous Tracker among his race, second only to his father Stefan, hunts the worst of criminals and vampires. Hired to find a woman accused of murdering her husband, Trevor meets a human woman Janna and falls in love, but he harbors a secret. He’s not 100% human.
Although he looks human, Trevor comes from a proud but surreptitious race that’s half human and half vampire and has existed for centuries. Falling in love with Janna, yet keeping his race secret from the woman he loves, becomes complicated when his father finds out. The Dimidiums have strict rules about mixed marriages. But Janna has a secret too, one that she isn’t even aware of. Forced into a world that she wants no part of, Janna must choose between her love for Trevor or her quiet life in small town Worthless, Nevada.

• Language: English
• Publisher: DM Yates
• Release date: Nov 3, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310324642

DM Yates

I write fantasy/romance stories and new age/spiritual/fantasy/romance poetry. I'm also addicted to reading and am an obsessive crafter. I dance in the clouds where my stories take shape and then I weave them into imaginative and loving tales. Dream above the clouds and believe in yourself. I do and I believe in you.

Book preview

The Dimidiums

Bound by Love

Book One

By DM Yates

Chapter One

The Tracker

Mateo darted through the crowded evening streets, bumping into the revelers, glancing behind him for his pursuer. No one noticed. The festival was in full swing, and people danced, drank, and laughed, cavorting around the square. He ran as fast as he could past them. If he were caught, execution was certain, and should his Tracker be Trevor Dittmar, there would be no chance of escape.

Trevor jogged, closing the distance between them. Why is he running? He knows he can’t match my speed. Humans, so clueless. A woman grabbed him and he grinned broadly at her, polkaing along. He handed her to a passerby and took off on a sprint.

Mateo ducked down an alley and pressed himself against the wall of a building. His breathing was hard and shallow. Sweat ran down his face. He couldn’t go any farther. Seeing no sign of the Tracker, he relaxed. He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, but his relief was short lived. Trevor jumped down from the roof above him landing in front of him.

There you are, Mateo. And here I thought I lost you. What a fun game of hide and seek, but you look tired. Shall we just say that I won? Trevor stood confident, leaning on one leg, his hand on his hip, his right leg out to the front. Impeccably dressed as usual, not the tiniest hint of a wrinkle, not even a scuff on his shoes, he wasn’t even sweating. He ran his thumb across his forehead. What I’m wondering is, why? Why would you do this to us?

Tell me you’re not Trevor Dittmar?

My reputation precedes me. Do you think some other Tracker would let you go?

Where’s your music? Mateo challenged. I heard you play music to intimidate your victims. If it wasn’t Trevor, it might be possible to escape.

Trevor snapped his fingers. I knew I forgot something. I think you’ll like this one. He pulled his mini player out of a pocket and made a selection. "Rossini’s ‘The Finale from the William Tell Overture.’ Hilarious, don’t you think? Get it? Because you’re trying to get away and I’m chasing you? The track ended and he put the player back in his pocket. Are you full of dread now? You should be."

Mateo sprang to get away, but Trevor seized the back of his shirt collar and threw him against the wall.

Don’t make me have to hurt you. Your wife will hate me. I’d rather you come along without a struggle.

Have you harmed Abril?

It’s rare for us to injure one of our own if innocent. She is innocent, isn’t she?

Matteo nodded yes.

She’s fine, but very worried about you. How could you do this to her, to us? You know the seriousness of violating our rules. How long have you been married?

We’re going on 15 years, and I do love her.

Then why? Why did you turn spy? Why would you disrespect your wife?

I was protecting her. You should understand. She told me you were in love with her, but your mother wouldn’t allow you to marry her. You’d want to protect her too.

I remember her and her sisters from my wilder days, but in love with her? No. I think I’d remember that. She manages our Department of Transportation in Arizona, doesn’t she? She’s helped me many times.

I work at the same office. We’re both devoted to our jobs.

"You did work there. For your crime, there’s only the death sentence."

I don’t want to die.

I’m not the one that enforces that penalty, unless you fight me here and now. I’m but a lowly Tracker. We all have our jobs.

You’re the most famous of all the hunters. You’re ruthless.

Trevor smirked. Why, thank you. How kind of you to say. I work hard to excel.

And you hate humans.

Very much, and you’re a perfect example of why. I’ll never understand why one of us would marry a human.

He made me do this. I didn’t want to. Look, he bit me. Mateo pulled down his shirt collar.

So he did. Still, you only needed to report it. I would have personally taken care of him for you, but you didn’t, did you? What does he call himself?

I can’t reveal that. He’ll kill my wife.

Trevor sighed. You will tell me, and in the Interrogation Room, you will answer honestly whatever they ask. Make your death quick and simple. That way, your wife can mourn for you without humiliation.

Abril’s pregnant. It’s a boy. She needs me.

Really? Congratulations. I say that sincerely. A human and our kind creating life isn’t an easy thing to do. You must have tried for a very long time.

Twelve years.

And finally success. With the death of one comes a birth of another. Such is life. Someday, he’ll proudly take his place in our world. Perhaps he’ll become a Tracker like me.

We don’t know his future yet.

No doubt your crime has influenced that. He shook Mateo hard and his head smacked into the wall. Give me his name. I grow impatient.

I can’t.

This is difficult for me. I’d prefer to use physical force, but I must think of Abril. Trevor pondered the situation. I don’t like to use this method, but it will do less damage to you.

What are you going to do?

Have you ever heard that trite saying; ‘Look into my eyes?’

No! You’re not supposed to use that.

Trevor feigned surprise. You think not? I can use any method to capture my prey. Mateo, look into my eyes.

Mateo squinted and looked down.

Like that will work. You’re going to make this difficult, aren’t you? He grabbed his victim’s and yanked the head up.

Mateo attempted to close his eyes, but not soon enough. He wanted to avert his gaze but couldn’t break free. Just in the instant that he glanced at Trevor, he could no longer turn away or blink.

That’s a good human, said Trevor, softly and encouragingly. Tell Trevor who the naughty Accursed is.

Mateo, in a stupor, replied, Dalibor, turned by Milosh.

Where’s Dalibor now?

I saw him last in Guatemala, my hometown of Villa Nueva, at my parents’ house.

Is he still there?

Going to Canada, through Mexico…, through Texas….

Good enough. I can pick up his trail. Do you know where Milosh is?

I’ve never met him.

Well done. Let’s walk quietly to the waiting car. You’ll wear your cheeriest party smile. You’ll get in the car and go with the nice guards. You will not struggle; you will not flee. You want to go to the local office and you will enjoy your interrogation. You’ll speak truthfully about your involvement with no hesitation. You’ll accept your death calmly, and don’t forget to thank them first. Do you understand?

I understand.

Trevor made a quick phone call. Let’s go then. I’ve just verified that they’re waiting for us at the entranceway to this alley.

The two men sauntered to the main road, eyes still locked on each other, Trevor’s arm around Mateo’s shoulder. Once the guards took Mateo away, Trevor phoned his office.

Stefan?

It’s done? asked Stefan.

He’s on his way to interrogation and death. He’s guilty. He admitted it.

Poor Abril.

I also feel bad for her. All those years married to a worthless human. She’s expecting a child.

A wonderful addition to our race. Good for her. Did you have to hurt him badly?

I charmed him instead.

Probably best. Abril will appreciate that you handled the situation wisely. Did you get the name?

Of course. Have I ever let you down? Dalibor, turned by Milosh.

Again Milosh? A thorn in our side. We can never catch up with him. Do you want Dalibor?

I earned that right. His trail starts in Villa Nueva. He’s heading to Mexico and up to Canada. I’ll catch his scent.

End him soon.

Someday, Milosh will be mine too.

I’m not surprised that you want him. Anything else?

Not until I’ve finished with Dalibor.

Take care. Dalibor’s powerful.

If I was cautious, would I be good at what I do? He hung up and dialed another number.

This is Trevor Dittmar. I need a ride to Villa Nueva. I’m sending my co-ordinates.

*****

Dalibor entered the U.S. without being seen, sneaking aboard a train with the cargo. He knew he lost Mateo to the Abominations, but Milosh controlled other spies. He was in a hurry. Milosh waited impatiently for him in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, a detail he purposely avoided telling Mateo.

Dalibor spent the day sleeping behind crates, awakened now by loud music, and he needed to quench his thirst. He’d throw the body off the train when he finished. As he came around the stacks, he found a man blocking the door.

Bach’s ‘Little Fugue in G Minor.’ Delightful, don’t you think? Trevor grinned.

The gaunt, almost translucent vampire studied his victim. Balding, with long strands of hair, he grinned, showing his yellow-aged teeth. How nice. My meal came to me.

Thirsty, Accursed? Slept well?

Dalibor hissed. Abomination.

Where’s our mutual friend, Milosh?

I’ll never say.

I get tired of Truth or Dare, but we’ll play. Speak the truth, or I dare you to fight me.

Dalibor cackled.

That’s a laugh? You’re getting too old. I’m doing you a service by killing you.

Your breed is arrogant. You won’t get me.

Trevor pulled out his Shaolin Double Daggers.

You think you can hurt me with those? asked Dalibor.

True. See? You do know this game. My turn. I’ll slice you to bits, cut off your head for the reward, and throw the pieces overboard.

I dare you to try.

Dare? Yes, the game is on. Trevor assumed the Shaolin Horse Stance, not moving, not blinking.

The vampire made his move. Without warning, Trevor soared into the air and whirled around the ancient one, kicking and slicing swiftly. Finally, in one smooth motion he severed Dalibor’s head. He scattered the remnants over the passing landscape and put the head in a plastic bag and then in his backpack. He dialed Stefan. It’s done.

Where are you?

Somewhere in Colorado, on a train.

Get off and turn the head in to the nearest office. I’m sending you information for your next job.

Will do. Trevor stood on the junction of two cars and jumped. He landed silently, then trotted off for the closest town.

*****

The four men arrived at the appointed location just before the specified time.

Hah! I told ya he wouldn’t be here yet. None of the others were smart enough either, Chester scoffed.

I don’t know. I think it’s a trap. Carl surveyed the canyon nervously. Why’d he want to meet near the Idaho border anyway?

Who cares? said Frank, irritated. You always say it’s a trap. You’re scared of everything. Why you here anyway?

He’s with me. You got a beef about that? Jack, a burly man, took a step towards Frank.

Hey, no fighting. Chester glared at Frank. We’re all a little tired. It’s been a long day and we still have two other stops. We agreed when Jack joined us that his brother could tag along, so back off.

Yeah, but I didn’t know his brother was such a loser. A pansy. That’s what he is. Frank tugged on his goatee. Why didn’t you just advertise that it cost $20,000? Then we wouldn’t have to run around all day.

Jack sniggered. Talk about a loser. Who’s gonna pay 20 grand for a used stereo sound system? I’m surprised anyone showed up with cash for the $2,000 price.

Look, you guys, said Chester. I’m the leader ‘cause I got the smarts. He poked the side of his head. We ain’t never failed with these scams, have we?

Frank chuckled. Nope. You’re right. People are pretty dumb.

We’ve made what? $12,000 so far today? That’s no small potatoes. That’s pretty good pay. Chester smacked his pocket. I don’t know no hard working Joe what makes that in one day. He rubbed his cheek and glanced around. Now we gotta be prepared. There’s some nice big trees here, perfect for hiding. When I whistle, we all jump out and pounce on him; beat him up real good, grab the money then get outta here. He’s the dummy what picked this canyon.

That’s what I’m saying, said Carl. This one doesn’t seem right. I got a bad feeling about this.

I got a bad feeling about you, snapped Frank, but I got’s ta work with you.

Enough, ordered Chester. Jack, from now on, leave your brother home. You can split your share with him if you want. Me and Frank have been doing this for close to 20 years and you’re the best partner we’ve picked up, but your brother is useless.

Maybe I’ll quit too then, said Jack. Maybe−

Loud music blasted, echoing around the canyon.

What the hell is that? Frank flinched.

I think it’s called ‘Funicili Funicila’ sung by a baritone, responded Carl.

A stocky fellow suddenly swooped down from a tree in front of them and Chester sized up the newcomer. He stood about 5ft 7in tall, muscled and tanned. His salt and pepper hair was short on top worn in a butch cut. A braid hung from the back to just shoulder level with a brown leather strap woven through it, a strange hairstyle for any normal man, thought Chester.

Trevor’s piercing brown eyes, set wide apart, regarded his prey. His thick black brows drew together while he studied the four men. His aquiline nose wrinkled when he sniffed them as if they stunk, and his full lips puckered.

He wore a perfectly pressed, long sleeved denim work shirt and clean navy blue jeans that looked brand new. Heavy duty steel toed work boots completed his outfit.

What you dressed for, a party? Frank snickered. What’s with the braid?

The stranger clicked a button that he held in the palm of his hand and the music stopped. I love great music like this. It inspires me. He slipped the button in his pocket and pulled out a small metal tube, folded into three parts.

Who the hell are you? Chester stood his ground, unafraid.

I’m the idiot who set up this appointment. Although ready to fight, he calmly flicked the cylinder. It sprang open into a long blunt stick, a Chinese kon.

What’s that supposed to be? Jack asked.

This? said Trevor. This is for knocking you unconscious although I’d rather kill you. He shrugged. I detest humans, but the reward is to bring you in alive, and that’s what I intend to do. He gave the weapon a twirl and slammed it into a tree with a resounding boing, and then held the kon in his left hand like a staff. He motioned to the dent in the tree’s trunk. Pretty good, don’t you think?

You’re not American, said Frank.

Very observant. I’m originally from Germany, but I work for several governments.

You’re a bounty hunter? Chester spit. We can offer you more than what our government will pay.

I’m a Tracker.

Never heard of that, said Jack.

Not important. Your country has offered a large reward for you, but what you’ve collected today will be my bonus.

Chester nodded to his men. They widened their distance, moving slowly into a circle hoping to close around the stranger.

You can’t get all of us, said Chester. Put your toy down and leave while you can.

Trevor assumed a Shaolin stance with the kon wrapped behind him.

What are you doing? Jack scoffed.

Carl gulped. He’s in pre-fighting mode. I think he’s a Shaolin master.

You should be the leader. Trevor flew into the air swinging his pole, smacking each one in the back of their heads and in the chests. He landed in a simple pose, took a deep breath, inspected his victims, and closed the kon.

The four men lay unconscious around him. Reaching into Carl’s pocket, he withdrew the $12,000, tossed Carl over his shoulder, and dashed off for his car. When all four men were heaped in his vehicle, he drove to the main road and pushed a button on the steering wheel.

Stefan’s voice greeted him. Trevor?

I have them and they’re alive. I took $12,000 off them.

Good job. Get them to the nearest sheriff. I have another assignment waiting for you.

What is it?

I need you to eliminate another of our oldest enemies. Our sources say that he’s taken refuge in Yosemite Park. I already have a flight scheduled for first thing tomorrow morning from Salt Lake City to Fresno. Turn in your rental car. The local office has a driver to get you to Utah fast in a government vehicle.

Nothing I like better than hunting old enemies. I’ll check in when the job is done.

*****

The gaunt ashen man waited until darkness settled in the park. The last stragglers were heading towards the gate and he couldn’t wait. He was thirsty. So thirsty. It’d been too long since he drank. He sighed at the sound of approaching footsteps.

A male casually drew near, his hands in his pockets. He wore a light blue shirt and khaki shorts, both impeccably clean and wrinkle free. His hiking books were brand new, with no scuffs, and tan socks folded over the tops. Of all things to wear, he carried a neon green glow-in-the-dark backpack. Around his neck hung a music player blasting Wagner’s ‘Ride of the Valkyries’, and he whistled along in perfect pitch.

A healthy one. The boney male snatched the guy around the neck and dragged him deeper into the now deserted park. He dropped him on the ground and leered down at him. You’ll make an excellent feed. No doubt you don’t believe in vampires, but that’s what I am and I’m very thirsty. Do I frighten you? He opened his mouth wide to reveal his fangs.

The response was unexpected. The man bounced up from the ground, swiped the dirt from his backside, and turned off the music.

Not one bit. You’re Efrom? I’ve heard you like this park. Staying in one place too long is a bad idea. I wouldn’t care if you did away with all the worthless humans, but too many people have disappeared from this single spot recently. You’re drawing too much attention. Don’t worry, Accursed. After tonight you’ll thirst no more, and we’ll be rid of this embarrassing problem.

Efrom stepped back and hissed. You’re one of them! He pointed his finger at the man accusingly.

Yes, they sent me. We’re tired of your sort not complying with our rules. You’re to be eliminated.

Your race is an aberration.

You Accurseds are a scourge. You’ve stayed the same for centuries and that’s your undoing. We may have similarities, but we’ve adapted where you haven’t. You cause us too much trouble. I’ve ended many of you, and this night I take your life.

Efrom snarled. Look at you. You’re more human than we, the undead. In time, you’ll become just like that weak race. Your abilities can’t match mine. You’re not strong enough to defeat me.

He grinned. You think not? We’re more powerful and resilient than you could ever know. He waved to Efrom, goading him to come to him. Give me your best effort.

Efrom spun towards his prey, but his target was no longer there. He glanced swiftly around. A blur of neon green whirled speedier than Efrom could in a perfect circle and stopped in front of him.

You’re too slow, taunted Trevor.

You’re a Tracker?

I am, and I must say, a very good one at that.

I have a right to live.

I have orders that say differently. He kicked swiftly, striking Efrom under the jaw. The vampire struggled to regain his stand, but Trevor locked his arm around the Accursed’s neck and squeezed.

Your kicks won’t kill me and you can’t choke me to death. Efrom clawed at his enemy’s arm, ripping the sleeve, unable to pull loose. I want to know who my attacker is, he uttered.

I’m Trevor Dittmar, a Halbling, and your existence ends by my hands. From his backpack he pulled out a bottle and splashed the contents over the vampire’s lower body and limbs, careful to avoid getting it on himself.

Trevor jerked his arm back to hold his enemy tighter and close off the voice, giving the deadly elixir the time to work. Efrom screamed in agony, but no sound escaped as Trevor tightened his hold and obstructed the voice completely. The Accursed weakened and Trevor let go. The vampire dropped to the ground smoldering and Trevor poured more of the potion on the upper body.

Efrom shook violently and as he slowly and painfully disintegrated, Trevor spoke, We use potions, something your kind have no knowledge of. This one is most efficient. It’s one of my favorites. He crinkled his nose at the smell as he pulled a burlap sack out of his backpack. He waited until nothing but the head remained then stuffed it in the burlap and placed the bag in the back pack. Walking nonchalantly towards the exit, he wished the gate keeper a good night and dialed Stefan to let him know the job was done.

After he dropped the head off at a local office, he went back to his hotel room. From a locked case, he took out a vial of nectar and drank. Tomorrow, he’d fly back to the Los Angeles Western Division of Trackers Office where he’d finish his statements and pick up any new assignments. He opened his laptop and clicked on his mail. A new email from a client in Nebraska offered to pay handsomely for his services.

He didn’t like working on personal situations, but the pay was high so he requested details. He considered the information and frowned. His first step would be to check out a small town in the desert of Nevada, about two hours outside of Las Vegas. He’d have to coordinate this with his Los Angeles office and hope they also had a job nearby. Stefan, of course, would approve because of the bounty.

Trevor drank down a second vial and went to bed. Efrom’s head had been confirmed, and he would receive another large bonus on top of the $12,000 he collected yesterday. Not bad pay for two days’ work in a profession he enjoyed. He’d split the bonuses with the office like he usually did.

Chapter Two

Worthless Nevada

Trevor was in luck. Stefan had an available job just outside the same town as his new contract in Nevada. He’d never been to Worthless, but he couldn’t imagine why anyone would name a town that, or who would want to live there. After all, it was unincorporated, a pinprick on the map.

Because of the topography around Worthless, Trevor checked out a Jeep Wrangler All Terrain from the car pool and headed out of California for his destination. He figured it would take four hours from the Los Angeles Western Division of Trackers Office to Las Vegas, and another two hours of desert driving from there.

By the time he arrived, he was tired, hot, and thirsty. He’d already drank six bottles of water and two vials of nectar.

Not a good idea to have removed the top, he mumbled to himself.

A sign welcomed him to Worthless with ‘Population 34’ scribbled below. Another sign tacked under the first reminded drivers to ‘Slow Down.’

Slow down or miss the town. He snickered. Now he understood the name’s meaning.

He entered from the two-lane highway to a single street. The first building to greet him was a dilapidated motel. With six rooms, it was the only motel in town and painted a bright blue. The color stood out strikingly against the desert hues surrounding Worthless.

What an eyesore, he said to himself.

Next to the motel was Jen’s General Store, painted white with sale signs plastered all over it. It advertised; ‘If You Can’t Find It Here, We’ll Get It For You,’ ‘Pay for Your WIFI and Satellite Here,’ ‘Money Transfers and Check Cashing Here.’ He shook his head. Good thing the signs inform you that you’re here.

Behind the store was the main hiking path. Two large signs tacked on tall posts stood between the store and the motel, visible from the road; ‘Most Scenic Trail in All of Nevada,’ and ‘Beware of Rattle Snakes.’ Underneath that, someone scrawled, ‘You’ll wish you were home.’ Trevor searched the hills. Scenery? Desert as far as he could see, interspersed with cacti.

Next to the general store was a small two story brick school house with its own sign. ‘High School Bus Stop to Las Vegas at General Store.’ Wow, that’s a long way to travel for high school. There’s more signs in this town than citizens.

Across from the motel was a 1950s style gas station with two pumps labeled ‘Regular’ and ‘Not Regular.’ An older man sat outside the station whittling wood. How you doing? he called.

Trevor waved back.

Frannie’s Steakhouse and Fish Fry was next to it with a large sign that read, ‘Taste Our Homemade Potato Chips and Beer Battered Onion Rings.’

It’s no more than an unpainted wooden building. No doubt Frannie’s is their high class dining. Where do they get fish in the desert? Seems like the sign is bigger than the restaurant itself. I have to take lots of pictures. No one’s going to believe this hell hole.

Next to Frannie’s was a burger joint, also made of wood, so small that you could only order at its single window. The sign on it read, ‘No indoor seating.’ I bet it’s locally owned the way it’s built and leans lopsided. A few weathered picnic tables were grouped in front. Next to that, an Infirmary, the front of which was the sheriff’s tiny office. Probably one sheriff and one cell. He snorted. "Am I in hell?" he called out to no one in particular.

To the south of the sheriff’s office stood an ad for Wi-Fi and Satellite service leading the visitor back to the general store. South of that a ways was a helipad.

The few homes lined a total of three streets and lay to the east of these buildings, across the road to the east. Opposite the first row of houses, children ran and played along an expanse of desert flatland. One small boy was attempting to fly a kite. Biggest sandbox I’ve ever seen. Trevor licked a finger and held it up. No wind. Good luck, kid. A sign stuck in the sand with a white cross painted on it read, ‘Church and Meeting House Straight Ahead.’ This I have to see.

He drove down to the end of the street, and sure enough, across from the last house, situated by itself, was a white church built of wood with a bell at the top. Unpainted wooden steps led to the double doors. To the north side of the church were two swing sets, two slides, and two teeter totters. At the back of those was a slab of cement with basketball hoops on either side. Behind that, a pavilion with tables and chairs. To the south side of the church was what looked like a baseball field with one set of bleachers. Everything anyone could want in a town. Trevor chuckled, turned the jeep around and drove back to the motel.

He bought a burger, checked into his room, and prepared for the next day. He’d hunt tomorrow after he rested today. Fanatic about perfection and cleanliness, he meticulously laid out a clean tan shirt and black jeans. He buffed his hiking boots and placed them near his outfit. Buffing his boots was a form of relaxation to him. Obsessive? This he knew, not only about how he looked, but in everything he did.

When he finished, he took a folded blanket and went to the back of the motel. Gaging the distance from the ground to the roof, he ran backwards a few steps, kicked high into the air, scurried up to the top edge of the building, and performed a graceful tumble onto the weather-beaten tin roof. Spreading out the blanket, he removed his shoes and stepped onto it reverently.

He took several deep slow breaths then performed the Eight Brocades of Qigong, after which he practiced a perfect Shaolin Horse Stance for several minutes. Finally, he sat in meditation pose as the evening sunset stretched across the desert and the last heat of the day caressed him.

He thought