Mary-Anne turned, her mouth stained with blood. She nodded, then drank from the other two in turn, gasping and moaning like a nymphomaniac who hadn’t had sex in several decades.
It was quite disturbing, really.
When Mary-Anne withdrew, her face was half red. The blood was streaked and dark, and for the first time, Alice saw the figure that most people feared when they thought of vampires. The bloodsucking monsters who attacked at night and cared for little more than killing.
Mary-Anne coughed, hocking up a hair that had made its way down her throat. She stuck two fingers down there and retrieved a long blond hair that had somehow escaped the guard’s head.
Alice shuddered.
“Classy…” Caitlin said, maybe a little too judgmentally.
Mary-Anne wiped her mouth with the corner of the bedsheet, then looked up and gasped, pointing at the window. In the corner of the glass, someone was watching—a long rat-like face staring back in surprise. They heard an exclamation, then the face was gone.
“Who was that?” Caitlin asked.
“Who cares? If it’s that big a problem, we can deal with them later,” Mary-Anne replied, piercing a pin-prick hole on the end of her own finger. A small bubble of her own blood rose to the surface. She leaned back down and rubbed it over the marks on the guards’ neck. The wounds instantly began to heal until there was nothing there at all aside from dry pink stains.
“Impressive,” Alice said in awe.
“How are you feeling?” Caitlin eyed Mary-Anne with concern.
The vampire stood now, her eyes closed, and took deep breaths. A smile grew wide on her face. She looked satisfied and energized, probably the effect of the power of the human blood coursing through her. Her expression spoke of satisfaction, as if she savored every moment of the energy fueling her body. It wasn’t hard to imagine that she hadn’t felt this good in years, not on a vegetarian diet that denied her primal need.
Caitlin and Alice watched and waited, noting how the color returned to her face. She immediately stood taller. When Mary-Anne opened her eyes, they were brighter than they had ever seen, her two fangs a proud feature on her face.
“Well?” Caitlin prodded.
Mary-Anne looked at them both. “For the first time in a long time, I feel fang-fucking-tastic!”
And then she was gone, a blur as she sprinted and ran loops around the room at a speed they couldn’t follow. Her laughter trailed behind her, and pretty soon, Alice and Caitlin joined in too.
Mother Wendy’s Tavern, Silver Creek
“Sir?” Tyrell asked sheepishly.
Hank could feel himself shaking with rage. His face turned a dark crimson. When he had swung by the local tavern—a moderate-sized building within Silver Creek’s market square with upturned barrels for chairs and a pretty little thing behind the bar—the last thing he had expected was to be told this.
Victor and Hendrick sat frozen around the table with beers in their hand, waiting for a response from their captain. Hendrick shuffled on the cushion he now had to bring with him whenever he went somewhere to sit down for long periods.
Hank exhaled slowly. “You’re telling me that four of my men arrived at New Leaf, and one came back.”
Tyrell nodded.
“One?”
Tyrell, one of the stronger guards on Hank’s forces who traveled between villages and collected the debts and resources of the weak-willed towns, lowered his head. “Yes, sir.”
“One!”
Tyrell nodded. Hank leaned back, ran a hand through his hair, and grumbled, his teeth rubbing together. He reached forward, took a long draught of his beer, closed his eyes, and counted to ten.
“And it’s all because of one woman,” he said, more to himself than his audience. This time, he kept his words low, already noting a few people in the tavern looking over at his table. Now was not the time or place to explode, not until he had the situation handled. The last thing he wanted was any of the governor’s spies to see that he was losing his shit. No one must know that there were more women out there rising up and causing problems, and he wasn’t doing anything about it.
That wouldn’t do at all now, would it?
“Well…technically it’s because of two. Big Bill’s wife—Alicia, I think? And another I don’t recognize, but she seemed to know Trisk well enough to want to send the message.” Tyrell picked up his own beer and took a large gulp.
“And Big Bill is where?”
“I don’t know.” Tyrell hung his head. “Wherever he went, he wasn’t there.”
Hank flinched. He had known Big Bill personally, having met him once when he had accompanied his messengers to the distant towns that were held under the governor’s rule. He had been much younger at the time, and even then, Big Bill had been fearsome. A tall man with broad shoulders who could hold his own, he’d stood out as a man who others feared. Over the years, as Hank had risen up through the ranks, he had always planned to recruit Big Bill to join the elite guard, but he had never put it into action.
But still… It seemed strange that he hadn’t been there. Had he finally bitten the bullet and gone solo? What if the Alicia girl had done something to him?
Impossible.
“And you couldn’t protect your men against two measly women? What good are you on the force if all those years of training can be undone by two simple females?” Hank felt himself growing red again and did his best to control it.
Thankfully, Victor chipped in and changed the subject. “What was the message? What did she say?”
Tyrell sighed, glad to move on from his failure against the girls.
He told them what Caitlin had sent him to say—maybe not word for word, Hank realized, but as close as he could remember. He might be strong, but he wasn’t the brightest, after all.
When he was finished, he addressed Hank directly, hoping to earn some brownie points with the next part. “She said for the message to go straight to the governor, but I thought it would be best coming from you, sir. I don’t know that I’ve got the stature to tell Trisk myself, and I also know how hard it is to gain an audience unless you’re…well…you.”
Hank drank again, the flattery bringing a grin to his face.
“Describe the girl,” he said.
Tyrell described Caitlin with her long brown hair and the dark green cloak that flowed behind her as she walked. When he got to the description of her sword, he saw Hank’s eyes widen, if only briefly, because his expression looked hopeful. Maybe he thought this information would earn him forgiveness after all.
Hank sat for a moment, deep in thought. Or at least, that’s what he chose to show to the others. Inside, he was pissed off and a little bit afraid.
How in the name of holy hell did that bitch manage to survive? Wasn’t it bad enough that she had stolen his vampire? But now, she was working her way to the villages, threatening to shatter Trisk’s regime and give people hope? How long had it taken for them to manipulate the societies to believe that there was nothing more than danger and death in the woods? If that twiglet bitch was out there, spreading the truth…imagine the chaos she could bring.
“Sir?” Hendrick asked.
“What?” Hank replied, a little louder than planned. Several heads turned in their direction, including one man whom Hank recognized as that Sullivan fellow who had accompanied them to the manor. He stared blankly at Hank, then returned to his plate of slop.
“I was going to ask if you wanted a refill,” Hendrick said, barely audible.
“Oh. Yes. Two.” Hank shoved his glass Hendrick’s way, then turned his attention back to Tyrell. His left eye began to twitch.
“Should I not have said anything?” Tyrell asked, unable to help watching Hendrick hobble over to the bar, his legs bowed.
“Not at all,” Hank said, doing his best to instill his ‘nice guy’ tone—whatever good that would do. As much as he hated the news, he was glad that it was at least his to do with what he pleased now. “Thank you for coming straight to me with
this. Your loyalty is greatly appreciated, and I’ll be sure to find a way to reward you kindly. Leave it with me. I’ll be sure to report directly to the governor.”
After that, they sat a while longer, drinking and watching the night grow darker outside. Soon, there were only a few left in the tavern and Hank left the other gentlemen to their drunken games. Their attitude shifted to mirth and silliness, and as much as Hank had matched them in drink, he certainly wasn’t in the mood to play.
He stood outside, looking up at the moon, imagining the Harrison girl out there surrounded by a hundred angry men and women.
If they were to storm the gates, what could his men do? Sure, they had numbers on their side, but Hank had no real idea how powerful a vampire could be if unleashed battle.
“Everything okay, boss?” Victor asked, appearing behind Hank.
Hendrick and Tyrell stumbled out too, arms around each other, though they stopped when they saw the glare that Hank gave them both.
“That girl. The one who sent the message for the governor…” Hank said, so quietly that they had to lean in to hear him.
“What about her?” Victor said.
“Yeah, what about her?” Hendrick added with a hiccup. “Should we be worried?”
Tyrell was silent.
Hank looked at them each in turn, his eyes cold. “No. No, we shouldn’t.”
Hendrick scratched his head. “How come?”
“Because we’re going to go out there and find that bitch,” Hank said, feeling for the sword at his side. “And when we do, we’ll mount her head on a fucking spike.”
Sullivan sat a while longer in Mother Wendy’s. He liked watching the people, and though he hardly touched a sip of his mead, he enjoyed the ambiance of the tavern. From where he sat in the center of the room, he could hear almost everything. The rangers of Silver Creek were trained and attuned to listen to the quietest of sounds and to use their senses to maximum ability.
Despite what many of the others thought, Sullivan wasn’t as dumb as he appeared.
And now, several hours into the night, Sullivan had grown curious.
He had heard every word of Tyrell’s message and had himself wondered whether the girl might have been the one who had accompanied them a week ago. Dylan’s sister, somehow out in the wilds now, a survivor of the vampire attack.
Sullivan shuddered, remembering the vampire’s glowing eyes, the struggle and fight he had, and how close he had come to capturing her. She had been strong, but he had been stronger—at least until Caitlin had saved the vampire and they had fled.
What had that all been about?
Sullivan set his drink aside and stood up. He breathed in tight, doing his best to weave between tables without his massive size knocking them over. Patrons were busy talking to their peers about their days, nibbling food, drinking their drinks.
Something caught his eye.
Someone in the corner. His raised hood ensured that shadows covered his face, but something glinted where his eyes were.
Sullivan took a breath and wandered over. He took a seat beside the stranger, unable to quell his curiosity.
“It’s rude to stare,” Sullivan said.
“Who says I was staring at you? Don’t flatter yourself, buddy. The wench behind the bar is enough to feed my eyes.” The voice was rough, and though the words seemed brash, his tone was friendly.
“Oh,” Sullivan said. He watched Mother Wendy serving drinks, flashing her winning smile with lips red and bright. He’d always appreciated those tits so big, they reached almost to her chin. “My mistake.”
Sullivan went to stand up. The stranger held his arm in place.
“Doesn’t mean you have to leave. Stay. Finish my drink for me, if you like.”
Sullivan shrugged, reached forward, and drained the cup.
The stranger chuckled. “You’re a trusting one, aren’t you? What if that had been poison? What if that had glass in it? Or urine? Or shit?”
“Did it?”
“Well…no…” the stranger said.
“Well then, we don’t have a problem.” He flexed his bicep. “Do we?”
Sullivan’s eyes latched onto his face. The stranger studied him, lingering on his cloak, “You’re a scout, right?”
“Aye. Why?”
The man rose to his feet. He began walking towards the exit, half-turned so that Sullivan could just see the skin damage on his cheek. “Come with me,” he said, then carried on ahead without looking back.
Sullivan considered whether it would be the smartest move to follow a stranger. His shift was due to start any minute now. But with Dylan gone, there was no one to tie the rangers together. Over the last few days, the guards had done their best to force the rangers out on patrol, but what was it all for if their captain had been taken and imprisoned without providing a sufficient replacement?
Sullivan headed outside and found the stranger down a side street. He was nearly impossible to see until Sullivan heard a pssst.
“What’s your game?” he asked suspiciously.
“I need your help,” the man whispered.
“Got a name?” Sullivan replied.
“Kain. Yours?”
“Sullivan. But my friends call me Sully.”
Kain sniggered, catching himself before the laugh grew too loud. “Sullivan? What kind of name is that?”
“One that my mother gave me. If you’ve got a problem with it, take it up with her.” Sullivan held the hilt of his sword in his hand but noticed that Kain didn’t even flinch.
Not one bit.
“Okay, we’ll start with Sullivan and see how we go. Who knows, before the night is over, we may work our way to Sully,” Kain had to look up at him now. “Here’s the deal. I’m in a bit of a sticky patch here, and I think we could both benefit from helping each other.”
Sullivan put his sword away. “And how do you figure that out?”
Kain lowered his hood revealing his sharp features. His cheekbones stuck out, and his face was gaunt. He clearly hadn’t fed properly in weeks, and his skin was more pocked and marked than a gravel road. Despite his ghoulish appearance, Sullivan didn’t find himself in the least bit afraid.
“I know where your captain is.”
“Dylan?” Sullivan gasped.
“Yes, and here’s my proposition: help me escape from this hell-hole of a town, and I’ll give you his freedom.”
Sullivan thought for a moment, eyeing Kain up and down. He looked the furthest thing from trustworthy he could possibly imagine, but the idea of rescuing Dylan…now that was tempting. Dylan had been good to him over the years.
“How do you know where he is?” Sullivan asked.
“Because I occupied the cell next to him. Down in the darkest recesses of the town. Lovely chap. Can’t sing for shit, though.” Kain reached deep into a pocket and withdrew the key he had stolen from the guard. “And this…this is his ticket out of there.”
Sullivan thought for a moment, imagining what it would mean to break into the prison building and break Dylan out. “What use is that key by itself? Even if you handed it over, how are we supposed to get Dylan out when there are guards left, right, and center?” Sullivan said.
“We?” Kain replied, scoffing once more. “Who said anything about ‘we? ’ No. You get me through the gates. I give you the key. What happens after that is your business. I’m out of here. Ciao. S’long. Sayonara!”
They heard footsteps around the corner and the chatter of drunken guards. Both tucked tighter into the shadows, perfectly still and silent. A group of seven guards wandered past, talking loudly. Some laughed, but one at the end remained unengaged in the conversation.
There were mentions of “governor,” “Hank”, and “escape of a wild creature” mixed amongst the babble, but their spirits didn’t seem to match the content.
Drunk. The lot of them. What kind of corrupt system lets their elite guards drink in uniform and parade around the town?
When they were go
ne, Sullivan turned back to Kain, a question springing to his mind. “What is it that you did? Why are you trying to escape?” He paused for a moment, thinking things through. “Why were you down in the extra security prison?”
“That’s none of your business,” Kain snapped.
“It is if you want me to help you,” Sullivan retorted bluntly. “What are you trying to hide?”
For a moment, Kain simply stared. Then, a dull amber began to throb in his eyes. “Trust me, kid. The last thing you want is for me to tell you what I truly am.” A slow growl began to rumble from his throat. Sullivan drew back.
“You’re a…you’re a…” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “Vampire?”
“A vampire? What do you know of vampires?”
“Only that they’re real. I saw one, out in the woods. A woman with dark skin, fangs, and glowing red eyes.” Sullivan placed his fingers over his mouth to create fangs, looking like a five-year-old at a Halloween party. He looked Kain up and down, his eyes wide. “I can’t believe I’ve met two in one week.”
“Well, clearly, you didn’t get a close enough look before,” Kain spat on the floor. “A vampire… Pah! I’m the furthest thing from a vampire.”
“Then what are you?” Sullivan asked, seemingly deflated.
Kain grinned wide. For some reason, Sullivan recognized a kind of shared affinity without fully understanding it. “I’m even better than a goddamn vampire. I’m the best thing you’ll ever meet. I’m a motherfucking werewolf.”
Sullivan gasped.
“That’s right. So, here’s the add-on to my proposition. Help me escape, or I’ll bite your fucking balls off.”
Chapter Fourteen
New Leaf, Silver Creek Forest
“We have to get moving, and soon,” Mary-Anne said, standing in the doorway to Alice’s bedroom. Jaxon lay in the corner, his head resting on his paws. His eyes watched Mary-Anne without blinking.
Alice was busy in another room. Sounds of rummaging through boxes and the closing of drawers and doors were the only other noises in the house. “What’s the hurry?”
Caitlin sat at the kitchen table, spitting on a cloth and running it the length of her sword. “Yeah, what’s the rush? The guard we set free must only be arriving at Silver Creek by now, surely? Take a breath, Mary-Anne. It’s almost like you haven’t slept all day.”
Dawn of Chaos: Age Of Madness - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (The Caitlin Chronicles Book 1) Page 13
