Kindred Souls: Entire Series Books 1 - 5

by Bree Branigan

  “I just needed some time,” she explained vaguely, waving a hand as she moved further into the manor house she called home. “What is going on here, Elise?”

  “I can’t believe you don’t know. Marcel has been going crazy looking for you.”

  Nora froze.

  “Nora, there have been killings. Vampire killings.”

  “What?”

  “They found a couple of athletes down by the river tonight, chests torn open, their throats ripped. Our only saving grace is that it looks way too violent for anyone to assume it’s a vampire kill. We don’t know who they are, or where they come from, or what they want with us.”

  “With us?” Norah felt her insides drop.

  “This is technically our territory. No other clan can come here unless they are willing to stick to our rules. Octavia, Lena and Athos are on their way back here.”

  “All three elders?” Nora’s jaw hung agape as she stared at Elise.

  “It’s pretty serious, you should go talk to Marcel.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He was in the library with Antoni the last time I saw him. Looking furious, screaming at everyone because you were nowhere to be found, and it looked like you hadn’t been back at all since last night when all of this started happening. They’re afraid this is just the beginning.”

  Nora and Elise walked down the lushly carpeted hallway to the library, their conversation dying down as they heard Marcel’s voice, deep and thick with an accent that was impossible to place, shaping his words; making irresistible little entities of each and every one of them.

  “It can’t be one of us. It’s just not possible.” Marcel’s voice carried effortlessly through the high ceilings and tiled floors.

  “Then how did they go under our radar?” Marcel’s associate, Antoni, didn’t trust anything or anyone, and maybe he was onto something. He’d managed to stay out of trouble for so long that it was hard to argue with his logic.

  “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that we know they exist. We need to be smart about this. Lay low. Observe patterns and chase them out of our town before they cause more chaos than they already have.”

  Elise cleared her throat, making both men stop talking and turn abruptly to look. Antoni looked pissed, even more so when he found Nora standing there. He had always been a little envious over the fact that Marcel valued her opinions so. He was maybe even jealous of the way Marcel looked at her and wanted her even now, years after having turned her. Marcel’s connection with Nora was stronger than it was with any of the others, and Nora knew that not so deep down, Antoni hoped that one day she would disappear so that he could become Marcel’s go-to. Until then, he had to play nice and accept that the person Marcel talked to before making a big decision, was Nora.

  “Where have you been?” Marcel asked her, waving a hand wordlessly, motioning for Elise and Antoni to disappear. As they left the library Antoni’s voice drifted back complaining about being interrupted by a baby vamp that was only a few hundred years old.

  “I had nothing to do with it, Marcel.” Nora stood stock still, shocked and confused.

  “Oh, of course you didn’t.” He laughed, his teenage features a sharp contrast to the vampire inside, who was kind, wise, and thousands of years old. “Did you hear?”

  “Some of it.” She wanted to confess that she didn’t know about this great big mess because she’d been making a mess of her own, making friends with a human and hiding the fact that he was immune to her. That she had been sleeping with him and that, no matter how hard she tried, she was finding it impossible to forget him. To forget the way his mouth, his hands, made her tremble with delight. She could still the pleasure taking over her in waves…

  “Two of the football kids were found murdered in the most grotesque way. It’s not good,” he said simply. “It’s clear that it’s vampires, but we’re not sure if it’s a small nomad group or a larger, more organized unit. Until we figure it out, we are going to take it easy. No hunting for a few nights, okay?”

  She nodded. This wasn’t the time to argue. Two dead humans were very serious. Not only because the towns-people would gain a sudden awareness of something that had been right in front of their noses all this time, but because it jeopardized the freedom with which Marcel’s clan hunted. No one wanted to have their hunting grounds limited to certain areas. It had been one of the best things about this town from the very beginning: they could feed on anyone because at the end of the day, they wouldn’t remember. It was like an innocent hookup with a small blood withdrawal. No harm no foul.

  “I have to go meet Octavia and Lena. I want you and Antoni in charge. No one leaves the house. Do you understand?”

  Nora understood. She understood that this meant she wouldn’t be able to meet Fletcher the next night. That he wouldn’t be able to warn him or explain that the vampire or vampires responsible for what had happened to his friends weren’t one of theirs. One of hers. That she had nothing to do with it.

  She was appalled by how much she wanted to call him, to hear him, to let him touch her again.

  Chapter 8

  The manor was like a combat zone. Things tended to get complicated when over three dozen vampires were forced into a state of emergency. The older vampires were handling it easily enough. They kept to themselves and helped the younger vampires deal with the withdrawal and urges; with the anger that emerged after a few days of lock-down. But with the younger vampires the anger took over, like a wave that replaced the humanity left in them with the most feral of hungers.

  Marcel knew this would happen. He knew that leaving would create unrest and that at some point he would be too far away to help. The tension was palpable; it could be felt throughout the house. Their peaceful interactions had been transformed and replaced with a feeling of dread, of anger and weariness and resentment for the people who were making it impossible for them to carry on with a life they had spent years building – years perfecting.

  This was the exact thing they had been trying to avoid all this time. This fear and uncertainty.

  “So what do you think will happen?” Elise asked, slouching over the kitchen counter, leafing through a magazine as if what was being discussed here wasn’t important. The safety and future of the clan was at stake! “Do you think we’re going to have to move?”

  “Where would we go?” Nora shrugged, her head in her hands. Moment earlier she had intercepted a fight between a group of baby vamps who had no way of understanding what was happening.

  “Why must we lie low? Why have we been made the way we are to be denied blood?” they wondered.

  Though she’d dealt with them sternly, effectively having silenced them for the time being, Nora felt none of the self-assurance she showed.

  “We’re not going anywhere.” Antoni wandered into the kitchen, a big red cooler in his hands.

  “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Elise wrinkled her nose.

  “It’s not what you think it is,” Antoni smiled.

  It was, though. It was exactly what she thought it was.

  “Liar.” She straightened up, crossing her arms over her chest and turning to lean back on the kitchen island she’d been slouching over. The magazine sat there, the face of some twenty-something celebrity smiling from inside its glossy pages.

  “Look, things are obviously getting out of hand,” he sighed, opening the cooler. So if either of you have a better idea as to how we should deal with the young ones, I am all ears.”

  “But…” Elise shook her head, the disgust in her face apparent, “It’s dead blood.”

  It was one of the perks of their clan. They weren’t killers and their control over their hunger made hunting a non-issue. There was no danger in it for anyone. They took what they needed and then moved on, without anyone being the wiser. There had never been any need for them to go through the trouble of actually stealing blood. It had always been right there for them to take. Wandering the streets, filling the bars,
partying in frat houses and lakes – just waiting.

  “Nora?” Antoni spoke loudly to get her attention.

  “Hmm? Sorry?” Nora shook her head, snapping herself out of thoughts about what would happen if Marcel and the others didn’t show up soon.

  “Do you have any better ideas?” Antoni asked, holding a blood bag in each hand, waiting for her to respond before he could slip them onto shelves in the fridge next to bottles and fruit.

  “We are going to have to be careful with that. We can’t just march into the hospital every day and steal what we need until we figure out a better plan.”

  “But for now—” Antoni pressed on, packing the blood bags on the shelves.

  “For now it’s the only thing we can do if we want to keep the baby vamps from tearing each other to pieces. You’re right.”

  “I’m not drinking it,” Elise huffed, her arms crossed as she glanced away looking like a little girl being force-fed something filthy. Are you going to stamp your foot now? Nora wondered.

  “You don’t have to, Elise, this is just for the younger ones. We have a dozen vampires who are just not old enough to go without blood for this long. And you’re right, Antoni. This is the only solution we have until Marcel and the others get here and offer an alternative.”

  “Why don’t we just go hunting?” Elise asked.

  “It’s not safe right now.” Antoni shut the door, throwing the last blood bag in. “They have that stupid curfew and a campus-wide campaign urging students not to engage with strangers. The numbers being killed keep rising. They know they have something on their hands.”

  “Then why hasn’t it been on the news?” Elise asked, once again invested in a conversation she turned away from whenever something she wasn’t comfortable with was said.

  “That’s what I’ve been wondering.” Antoni nodded. “I feel like they are probably trying to pretend this isn’t happening, keep it quiet until they can figure out what it is, exactly, that is going on. I want to start looking for the vampires responsible but--”

  “But we were told to wait,” Nora reminded him sternly.

  “I know, I know.” He raised his hands. “I think it’s a waste of time just sitting here when we could be doing ground-work ourselves, but you told Marcel we should wait it out and we all know who Marcel listens to, don’t we?”

  “Don’t start, you guys.” Elise stood up. “Marcel will be back tonight with Lena and Octavia. With Marcel and the elders here we can start doing something about getting our home back from those fuckers. The last thing we need is for the younger ones to see you two fighting while they panic and starve.”

  “She has a point,” Nora agreed, glancing back over her shoulder at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. Time was such a ridiculous thing when you had so much of it. The seconds dragged, and the minutes slipped slowly away as they sat there, waiting. “They should be back in a couple of hours.”

  “If nothing delays them again,” Antoni interrupted.

  He also had a point. They were supposed to return days before and yet there had been delay after delay. Nora was as tired as Antoni of waiting for instructions on what to do. How were they to deal with the unrest of the younger vampires? Or the anger of those who knew enough to understand that their lifestyle was being put in jeopardy? All of this because of whatever or whomever was out there killing students. She was tired of this pause on life. And she sympathized with how worried everybody seemed to be that this would mean a relocation.

  She was also afraid she would never see Fletcher again. Afraid to ask about the boys that had been killed, or show an interest beyond her desire to keep the clan safe. She was afraid she would appear to be risking their safety at a time when nothing, not even that flutter of excitement she felt when she thought of him, should be more important than her people making it out of this.

  There were diplomatic implications, too. It was well known that this was their town; their turf. This trespass was a direct attack on them. An attack that they couldn’t ignore if they wanted to maintain the respect that had allowed them to make their own rules in town for so long.

  “What should we do, then?” Antoni insisted, pulling Nora out of her self-inflicted trance. Her mind went round and round in circles trying to figure out a way to get out of the manor, just for a few hours. Just to make sure that Fletcher was okay – that he knew that this wasn’t her doing and it wasn’t the doing of her clan.

  “Let’s see who needs the blood most, avoid more panic, and hope Marcel and the others make it tonight as planned. If not, we’ll just have to figure something out ourselves.” Nora sounded more confident than she felt.

  “Okay,” Elise, nodded, her distaste for the blood bags still evident in her expression.

  “Okay,” Antoni nodded, “I’ll go get the youngest.”

  Chapter 9

  Meanwhile, students living in the frat-house felt confined. They sat around the large dining-room table, grumbling and looking surly. But the element of fear was palpable. It could be felt beneath the anger and bravado of the young men. It showed in their eyes. Some leaned back, legs stretched in front of them, arms folded on their chests. Others sat forward, elbows on the table.

  The dean stood at the head of the table, his brow furrowed as he spoke. “All night classes have been suspended until further notice. Please guys, don’t forget that you can’t be anywhere after dark without your assigned support team.”

  “Is that really necessary, Mr. Taylor?” someone grumbled. It was a voice lost in the crowd, but it echoed everyone’s sentiment. It wasn’t a death wish or needless defiance. It was foot-ball players these murderers were going after. But they didn’t understand.

  “So why should we be locked in every night after six?” another barked.

  “Why should everyone be stuck with one of the athletes at all times? Doesn’t that actually put us in more danger if only the athletes are being hunted?”

  There were so many concerns expressed with different levels of panic.

  “Until we know what’s out there, I am afraid that’s the way it is,” Mr. Taylor nodded, collecting his papers from the dining room table and slipping them into a folder. “I am sure we will get this sorted out in no time and then you will all be able to go back to your lives and social schedules, but for now, this is how we are going to do it. Friday night games are also going to be re—”

  The whole room erupted in complaints this time. The point of being in a town like theirs was to be free to do what they wanted, whenever they wanted, without worrying about cops getting too intense or crashing their parties. It had been that way for so long that just thinking of having to stay inside, moving around in groups, and cancelling their parties had been enough to almost cause a student riot. But the games? The games were serious business. The games were how the school bonded, the place where they interacted and the glue that kept them together as a campus. Everybody cared because games usually meant the most epic parties afterwards; parties where everyone was invited and everyone let loose.

  “I know guys,” Mr. Taylor said, waving his arms to quiet the room down as it exploded in protest. “I know, I know. Believe me, no one is more disappointed than I am. But it’s just safer, especially if there is someone who is specifically targeting our boys. I know this is far from ideal but please, let’s just concentrate on getting through these next few days and try to be safe. Think of the victims and their families. These are the times when we have to demonstrate our school spirit and our resolve to be one great unit.”

  There were mumbles, but as a whole most believed he was right. What better time to rally up the school spirit than a time of tragedy, where they were all connected by the loss in one way or another? At least that was the idea they were all subscribing to; the idea the school was selling with every email sent, every announcement made, and every rescheduled activity or game cancelled: It’s time to stick together, no matter what. No matter how difficult. No matter how frustrating.

  “A
ssholes, the lot of them,” Jason barked looking out the window as Mr. Tyler got into his car. “They have no idea who did this and they want us to keep quiet and stay in so they won’t have a bigger problem than they already have on their hands.”

  “Is that so bad?” Fletcher asked from his bed, still feeling nauseated as the details of his teammates’ deaths started leaking through to the press. He’d started realizing that the “who” they were looking for could be a whole clan; that he knew someone that could be involved, and that it was likely others had already been victims to these monsters without even remembering.

  “Of course it’s bad. They should be telling everyone that there’s something fucking evil in this goddamn town so that they can send in the military to take care of it.”

  “The military?” Fletcher shook his head, “I think we should do as we’re told and let them handle it. I mean, have you heard about the state these bodies are being found in?”