Broken Elites (The Vampire Legacy Book 3)

by Rita Stradling

  Sweat coated my front as I woke with my massive furry German Shepherd mix halfway on my chest. Groaning, I scooted out from under Bailey's immense weight, avoiding gusts of her canine breath as she snored. The moment I crawled out from under my dog, I looked up into the eyes of an unfamiliar girl. I shook my head, thinking that I must be seeing things, but when I looked again, she was still there.

  “What the hell?” I sat up, scooted back toward Bailey, and tried to blink the exhaustion from my eyes.

  “Morning Sunshine,” she said, lifting her orange brows. The girl wore ripped jeans and a t-shirt that had “Alderwood Reformatory” printed on it in thick letters. Above the school's name, she wrote, “Fuck... Alderwood Reformatory” in permanent marker. She was petite with beautiful, dainty features, a sharp nose, and two vibrant red braids hanging from both sides of her head. She looked my age, if that, and she had the most colorful green and blue eyes I'd ever seen. She leaned in and tilted her head, seeming very birdlike. “I was sent to see if the rumors were true.”

  “Rumors?” I asked, voice coming out hoarse. “About what?”

  “The rumors that the Sabs are training a supernatural in their school for murderers...” She looked me up and down. “Maybe I got the wrong room. You look like a Sab, smell like a Sab, and...” She flicked out a forked tongue, “taste like one too.”

  “Are you threatening me?” I asked.

  Her posture and tone screamed that she was just casually standing there, but she said I tasted like a Sab, which could mean that she planned to eat me. In most ways, aside from her eyes and tongue, this chick looked human, but clearly, she wasn't.

  “Are you some sort of snake shifter… a lamia?”

  The girl chuckled. “You're not even close... and, no, that wasn't a threat. I'll tell you what I am if you tell me what you are.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks.” Rolling back my shoulders, I scooted toward her and set my bare feet on the floor. “I have a feeling that I can figure out what you are in one of my textbooks...” I trailed off as a pulse of panic surged through me. It wasn't just Bailey and me in my room tonight. I glance toward the doorway of my room and into my small living room. I could just barely see Justin and Mitch sitting on the couch. Justin's head was pillowed on his arm, and Mitch's head lay on Justin's shoulder. Their bodies rose and fell with their even breathing, so I looked back to the Alderwood girl.

  “I didn't touch your friends—unlike the Sabs, I don't go around hunting and killing people.” She shrugged. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I'll save you from a bunch of research. I'm a half-dragon.” She pushed away from the wall, and red, leathery wings spread from her back. Crimson scales glimmered over her cheeks before smoothing into smooth skin. “Show of good faith.”

  “If I tell you what I am, who are you going to tell?” I asked, finding myself strangely considering confiding in this girl. Maybe it was the way she said “one of us.” I might attend Blackburn Academy, but I wasn't an Elite or a human. I was something else, something that the Hawthorn Group designated as “dangerous” and “unclassifiable” in my paperwork. The Hawthorn Group killed dhampirs. They almost had me killed. Just recently, the owner of the Hawthorn Group kidnapped me to first steal my powers before he killed me.

  My father was their greatest enemy, and he'd done everything in his power to save me, even trying to get me to kill him. At the end of it all, I had a really hard time determining who were the good guys in this situation—or if there were any at all.

  Alderwood girl folded her wings back behind her back. “The only person I'd tell is Gabriel Dawn, the werewolf alpha at our school. I'm not sure who he'd tell. I'd guess that he'd tell his beta Ajax Dawn—that might be as far as it goes.” She shrugged. “Food for thought—the Sabs have never made a deal with a Supernatural that they didn't break. They don't consider us humans. They consider us investments or pests. If we no longer become investments, our existence starts to be a nuisance. If you really are one of us, you'll either need to become one of their robots or you'll end up with us. Well, you could just end up dead.”

  Sabs was the slang term that supernaturals used for sabbatianoí, the society of nightstalker hunters who were born on a Saturday and could see vampires in their mist form.

  The girl bared her teeth, and I couldn't help but notice that her eyeteeth looked a little sharper than they had a few minutes ago. “You might want to start making friends now, just in case they send you to our school.”

  I couldn't help but shudder a little at the way she said, “our school,” it made me change my mind about confiding in her. I stood, crossed my room and crouched over my backpack. “I have a feeling that I'm going to regret this...” I muttered as I extracted a pen and paper from my backpack. I scratched my phone number onto the slip of paper and stood. “I have trust issues. If this Gabriel guy wants to get in contact with me and is willing to swear to keep quiet about what I am, then I'm willing to talk.” I held out the paper. “My situation here is complicated and dangerous, okay? The Hawthorn Group has already tried to kill me twice. The first time was a year ago and was supposedly a mistake, and the second time was a week ago when members of the organization went rogue—or at least that's what they said. Please don't be careless and get me killed.”

  She took the paper and tucked it in her back pocket. “Two is pretty good. I'm a three-timer myself— dragons are really hard to kill. I'm Bridget, by the way.”

  “January.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”

  “Yep.”

  “I'm guessing that name is from your human side. Welp, nice to know you, January. Hope you survive the Hawthorn Group's third attempt.” When I opened my mouth to respond, she held up a hand. “I'll be discrete. But, if they've made two attempts, there's going to be a third, and then they'll hand you a third lame-ass excuse. Trust me. I've been in their clutches since I was a hatchling. They like to do their little fatal experiments on us.” Bridget turned and headed into the main area of my dorm apartment. Her gaze passed over Mitch and Justin, and a small smirk twisted her blood-red lips. “You know, you might actually do well at Alderwood when they send you there... if you live that long.”

  Heat spread into my face as I got her meaning, but I wasn't going to bluster some kind of denial that she probably wouldn't even believe anyway. Instead, I forced a nonchalant shrug. I kept my voice low as I said, “You don't even know if I'm a supernatural, Bridget. I haven't confirmed anything, and I'm not going to.”

  “Except that I don't need you to. I was lying when I said you smelled like a Sab, January.” She leaned in, and I couldn't help but smell her campfire scent, like burning logs and smoke. Her colorful eyes met mine, the blue and green seeming to swirl enticingly together. “You smell like a dhampir,” she said.

  Crap on a fucking stick.

  I tried to keep my expression neutral as I crossed my arms over my chest and said, “Really? And what is that supposed to smell like?”

  She tilted her head thoughtfully as she pondered the question. “Like night and darkness.”

  “That's not a thing.”

  “It is for predators... it smells like happiness and freedom.”

  Great.

  Bridget reached into her back pocket and held up the note. “Gabriel is probably going to contact you soon. Don't betray him. You won't live long if you do. He has friends everywhere.”

  My gut twisted, and I hugged my middle. “Bridget, just tell him what I am, and let's cut this off here. I'll be honest with you... it's not safe to contact me. I probably shouldn't even have given you that number, but I don't think the Hawthorn Group had the opportunity to bug my phone. If they can, I have no doubt that they will. The Hawthorn Group has literally adopted me without my permission--basically, they claimed me as their property, and I have no rights. The owner of the Hawthorn Group kidnapped and almost killed me...” my eyes felt suddenly hot, and my chest felt so tight I could barely inhale enough breath to speak. Blood pounded in my ear
s, and my whole body felt suddenly cold. “And, he's still alive...”

  “Hey there.” Warm fingers touched my arm, and I looked down to see the smirk had slid off Bridget's red lips. Her brow furrowed. “You're shaking. Are you talking about Sebastian Holter? You're saying that he's alive?”

  I nodded. “He was staring up at my window last night. Soldiers came and arrested him.”

  “That's some crap news right there.” She gave me a straight-lipped smile and shoved the note with my phone number back into her pocket. “Gabriel has been in the HG system as long as I have... he's not going to stumble into one of their traps. I'll give him your info and tell him that you're under constant surveillance and see what he says. I got a lot of intel here just from meeting you, so he probably won't reach out. Don't worry about it.” Her hot fingers squeezed my arm, but they felt more comforting than uncomfortable. “It gets easier, yeah? You'll be fine.”

  A sudden tear ran down my cheek, and I grabbed my shirt and wiped it away.

  The tone of our meeting had changed drastically from Bridget mocking me to comforting me, and I wasn't sure which was worse. I was usually so good at holding back my emotions, but this dragon shifter girl had caught me in the middle of the night right after I learned that Sebastian Holter was still alive and fixated on me. I had left Justin and Mitch, locked the door to my room, and clutched Bailey to my chest as my body quaked with terror.

  Everyone had talked about Sebastian Holter like he was the physical manifestation of their worst nightmare. They had even nicknamed him Prime, as in prime evil, and I had only half-believed them. I had spent time with him every day, and he just seemed so human. It was hard to believe that any person was capable of murder—let alone the string of murders everyone suspected that he committed. Then I watched the video of Sebastian murdering his own sister and Sebastian admitted to kidnapping Justin and framing him for treason, and the fact that Sebastian was pure evil truly started to set in. Still, I had doubts. I didn't want to believe that a person could be that depraved. He only truly became my nightmare when I woke strapped to a table with Sebastian Holter stealing my blood so he could take my powers and make himself a dhampir. But, he was dead. Shot in the head by his own accomplice.

  Why hadn't I beheaded his corpse?

  Actually, I could excuse myself for not having the presence of mind that day, but why didn't the Hawthorn Group soldiers do it after they discovered his body on the scene?

  Now, Sebastian was my waking nightmare.

  “Alright then,” Bridget said, and I jumped a little, realizing that I was standing with a complete stranger who'd broken into my room in the dead of night, and I was letting my mind wander so much, that I completely forgot she was here for a moment. “I'm going to go.”

  My front door opened, and for a second, I thought Bridget must have done it with her mind when an extremely tall, dark-haired chick leaned in. She also had her hair in two braids, but this girl wore a long, pleated skirt and a metal band t-shirt. Under her skirt, she wore torn and tattered fishnets and thigh-high black stockings. Black make up was caked on her eyelids and lips, giving her face a skull-like appearance when she blinked. She crossed her arms, looking a bit jumpy. “We really need to go, Bree?”

  “I'm coming. This is January, Sam. She is a Supernatural, and she's cool. Might need a little help with her boy problems, though.” Bridget nodded toward the couch.

  “Boy problems?” The girl named Sam leaned in to look over at Mitch and Justin sleeping on the couch. “What am I supposed to do to them? Do you want me to turn them into something?”

  “Wait, no.” I moved to intercept the girls. “No. Please, don’t do that.”

  “I’m not suggesting we curse them, Sam.” Bridget rolled her eyes. “These are chicky’s boyfriends.” Bridget stared past me, and her jaw sagged open. “Damn. Is that who I think it is? Mitch Holter and Justin Roberts? Aren't they like the bad boy kings of this school—and aren't they cousins? “

  I lifted my hands as heat again spread through my face. “I'm serious. It's not like that.”

  “Yeah, okay, sure,” Bridget said with a laugh and a twist of her braid. “That’s what I always say… what the…?” Bridget trailed off as both of the girls looked back to the boys on the couch. For just a second, the teasing expression slid off Bridget’s face, and the two supernaturals looked over at each other in shared alarm.

  “What?” I asked as I peered over the back of the couch. Mitch and Justin looked completely normal to me.

  “Nothing,” they said in unison.

  Bridget straightened first, and there was something forced in the smile she pointed at me. “We really need to run before all Sam’s spells wear off. Sam?”

  Sam blinked between me and the boys on the couch. “But… the boy is a—”

  “Sam,” Bridget snapped, “Chicky here just wants you to leave the doors unlocked for five minutes after we leave, yeah?” Bridget gave me an exaggerated wink. “One I don't do that chick to another. But I have to say I am impressed, and now we really have to go.”

  I looked between the two girls who were already backing toward the exit. “If there’s something wrong with Justin or Mitch, please tell me.”

  The tall witch named Sam started to say, “One of those boys is a—”

  “Sab. They’re both Sabs,” Bridget interrupted. “I’m sure that there’s plenty wrong with them,” Bridget said with a delicate shrug. “We really need to go before we’re all in deep shit. Just make sure to get your boys out before you’re suspended, right?”

  “Thanks.” I opened my mouth to ask about the odd shared look again when the girls ran for my front door.

  “Think nothing of it.” Bridget shot back. “You can pay me back when they throw you in the Reformatory with us.”

  “Nice to meet you. Bye.” Sam waved her hands in the air and muttered a few words, and there was a loud clicking that echoed down the length of the hallway. “Five minutes until the emergency locks return into place. You might want to act fast, though. If Blackburn is anything like Alderwood, they'll use a lockdown like this as an excuse to catch all of you miscreants and punish you.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered again as I grabbed my keys from my side table.

  The two disappeared out my door, and my heart raced while I rushed back to the couch.

  Justin and Mitch woke slowly as I shook their shoulders. “Come on,” I whispered. “Wake up.”

  “Hey baby,” Justin muttered as he reached for me. “Come here. Five more minutes.”

  “Hmm… January?” Mitch asked in a low growl as he opened one eye at me.

  “We have five minutes to get you both into your room, Mitch.”

  “Not leaving you,” he muttered as he laid his head back on Justin's shoulder. “My brother is alive.”

  Ugh. I didn't have the energy for this.

  I shook their shoulders harder. “Wake up!”

  Finally, both of their eyes snapped open.

  Justin shook his head. “January? What's going on?”

  “Out. You both need to go to Mitch's room before the whole school finds out you both spent the night in my room.”

  They glanced at each other.

  “I could give a fuck what people say,” Mitch growled.

  “Oh, I know that, Mitch, but please respect that I do care. Your brother was arrested, and we have like one minute until the locks go back in place, so please go.”

  “Fine.” Justin groaned as he stood. He tapped Mitch's shoulder who growled and rolled up to his feet.

  “This is fucking stupid,” Mitch muttered while trudging toward the door. “We were just sleeping.”

  Justin's arms went around me, and he nuzzled my neck as I forcibly led him to my door. Out in the hallway, I grabbed Mitch's key as he fumbled to unlock his door, and I pushed his door open. The moment the boys were inside, I headed back into my room and let the door slam closed behind me.

  A loud click sounded behind me as the emergency locks aga
in slid into place. Sighing, I leaned back against my door and slid down to the floor.

  Bailey immediately rushed over to me, assuming as always that the only reason I would be on the floor was so she could lick my face. She settled beside me, and I closed my eyes. I wasn't even sure how to process the events of this night. Did I just break some sort of rule about fraternizing with the enemy? And, if I was more like the Alderwood Reformatory students than I was the Blackburn Academy kids, did that make me the enemy?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A loud banging woke me as something shook against my back. As I opened my eyes, pain radiated through my butt and back, and I groaned. The banging came again, and I realized it was the wooden door behind me shaking, because I had passed out on the floor.

  I pet Bailey once before standing. My body and heart felt like it aged ten years over the past 24 hours.

  “Yeah?” I called through the door.

  “January Moore, we need to come in to ascertain you’re unharmed,” a male voice called through the wood. “Are you dressed, or do we need to give you a few seconds?”

  I glanced down at my sleep shorts and t-shirt, and then called Bailey to my side. “Yeah, you can come in.”

  There was a click at the door, and then a figure in full, black tactical gear peered through. Three men stood behind him, another soldier, an older man in a suit, along with a man who looked like an HG medic. All four entered the room without asking. One soldier stood sentinel at the door while the other moved about the space, checking behind furniture before he walked straight into my room.

  “What’s going on?” I asked as I turned back to the men. “There’s no one in here.”

  “My name is Director Yates,” the man in the suit said. “I believe you are acquainted with my son, Markus Yates.”

  “Yeah, Mark’s a friend,” I said, even though calling him a friend was a bit of an overstatement. “Nice to meet you?” It came out more of a question because the guy’s cold expression made the hair on the back of my neck prickle. As I reached out to offer him my hand for a shake, the medic swooped in and wrapped my forearm in a blood pressure cuff. They didn’t even ask if it was okay, they just grabbed my arm, and wrapped it around me and started pumping that ball that made it go tighter. “I’d feel more comfortable if someone from the school was in here with me.”