The Lola Chronicles (Book 2): A Day Without Dawn

by Jillian Eaton

  Running without any sense of direction I sprinted down one row and up another, trying to lose myself – and the drinker – in the maze of cornstalks. Blood sprayed the leaves in an inky trail of red as I ran, gasping and choking on my own breath. My heart was pounding so hard I was afraid it was going to burst right out of my chest. I was seconds away from collapsing. Seconds away from certain death.

  When I reached the edge of the corn I doubled back, knowing I had no chance against the drinker in an open field. For a moment everything was still and silent and I thought I’d lost him…until he appeared in front of me so suddenly that I nearly plowed straight into him.

  “So you want to play games?” Teeth bared, claws extended, eyes a bright fiery blue, he hissed like a snake as he stepped towards me. “Let’s play.”

  Without warning or so much as a whisper of sound a dark shape came hurtling out of the shadows and hit the drinker with enough force to send him crashing into the corn. I heard snapping teeth, furious growls, the unmistakable crack of a bone breaking and then…nothing.

  Stunned, I remained frozen in place, my feet rooted to the ground. It wasn’t until Maximus emerged from the cornstalks, his t-shirt ripped and his bottom lip cut open, that I fully understood what had happened.

  “Did you – did you kill him?” I asked, my gaze darting past Maximus to the crumpled pile of drinker lying on a pile of flattened cornstalks. His neck was bent at a funny angle. It must have been the crack I heard.

  “No,” he said shortly. “I want him to suffer. He will not regain consciousness before the sun rises.”

  “But that means–”

  “He will be burned alive,” Maximus said without a flicker of compassion. “Which is no less than he deserves. What did he do to you?” In an instant he was by my side only to recoil with a low growl when he saw my bleeding elbow and calf. “I told you not to come out here by yourself!”

  I had never seen Maximus so angry before. His entire body vibrated with fury as his eyes changed from a misty gray to a hard, glinting black. Seeing him like this – his jaw rigid, his muscles clenched, his eyes flashing – it was easy to imagine him as a drinker. I took a wary step back. I didn’t think Maximus would hurt me, but there was no way to know for sure.

  “Do not move,” he snapped. “You have lost a significant amount of blood.”

  I didn’t like the accusation in his tone. Almost as if it was my fault I’d gotten attacked. Blame the victim much? I hadn’t asked for this! I hadn’t asked for any of it. The drinkers were the bad guys here, not me. “I didn’t know he would be out here.”

  Maximus made a scoffing sound. “How could you? I only warned you of precisely that. If I hadn’t come when I did…” His voice trailed off as his throat convulsed and it was then I realized the truth. Maximus wasn’t mad at me. Well, he sort of was, but his anger was just a mask hiding what he truly felt.

  Fear.

  The big bad drinker was afraid for me.

  I remember watching a rom-com once. Usually I wasn’t big into the whole boy meets girls, boy sweeps girl off feet, boy and girl have a Big Misunderstanding before falling madly in love scenario, but I’d been sick and home from school with nothing else to do and it had been the only thing worth watching on TV. Halfway through the movie the girl’s mother pulled her aside for a little mother daughter chat filled with infinite wisdom and chocolate chip cookies baked from scratch. The girl was trying to choose between the hero and the guy she used to date in high school who had suddenly reappeared out of nowhere in an attempt to ruin the girl’s newfound happiness.

  So dramatic.

  I don’t remember exactly what the girl’s mom said, but it was something to the effect of, ‘Don’t judge a man based on what he says. Judge him on what he does.’

  If I only judged Maximus on the things he said – or rather the things he didn’t say – then I would find him seriously lacking. He was gruff, dismissive, and rude, not to mention a total liar. But if I judged him on the things he had done for me…

  “I’m fine,” I said softly. “Really. It’s just a scratch. You were right. I shouldn’t have come here at night. It was a stupid mistake.”

  His gaze hardened as he glanced down at my calf. “It is not just a scratch and you are not going anywhere until you’ve been tended to.”

  “What are you doing?” I asked suspiciously when he slid one arm behind my shoulders and crouched low to place his other arm beneath my knees. “Maximus, seriously. What are you – put me down!”

  Ignoring my protests he scooped my up into his arms as if I weighed no more than a feather. His grip was gentle but firm as he struck out across the cornfield. He wasn’t heading towards the hotel, but if his purposeful strides were any indication he had a pretty clear destination in mind. Releasing a sigh of resignation – not matter how much I struggled I knew I wasn’t getting down until he let me go – I rested my head against his hard chest and closed my eyes.

  His black t-shirt felt soft against my cheek. Resisting the temptation to burrow in, I allowed myself to slowly relax. I didn’t feel safe – there were too many dangers lurking around every corner for that – but for the first time in a long time I felt protected.

  I didn’t know why Maximus kept rescuing me. He had never given me a reason. At least not one that made any sense. But I did know that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. Not when he’d risked his own life to save mine so many times I’d almost lost count.

  Lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, I quickly fell into an exhausted sleep.

  WHEN I WOKE UP IT was still dark and I was stretched out on a lumpy sofa. Someone – Maximus – had pulled a blanket over me and stuck a pillow under my head. It wasn’t the most comfortable pillow in the world and it smelled vaguely of old chicken wings and stale beer which was kind of weird, but I supposed it was the thought that counted.

  Wait a second.

  I recognized that smell.

  The blanket fell to the floor as I sat up and – holy drinker hangover.

  My entire body pulsed; a low level thrumming of discomfort that left a bitter taste in my mouth. I leaned back against the sofa and groaned. I needed some extra strength aspirin STAT. Or maybe some horse tranquilizer.

  Careful not to move any more than I absolutely had to, I looked around the room. It may have been dark, but I didn’t need light to recognize where I was.

  Maximus had brought me back to my apartment.

  It looked like it had the last time I’d seen it. Extra messy courtesy of the drinkers who had torn through it looking for me and my dad, but honestly not that much worse than it usually was. Beige industrial carpeting with various food and beer stains, check. Cheap second hand furniture, check. Old magazines that should have been thrown out years ago scattered all over the place, check.

  The TV had been smashed in, the thin plaster walls were in need of some serious spackling and the fridge was on its side, but for the most part the apartment looked exactly like I remembered.

  Dark, dingy, and dirty.

  So why – of all the places he could have taken me – had Maximus brought me here?

  I jumped when the front door opened, only to breathe a deep sigh of relief when I saw it was just Maximus.

  I didn’t know when ‘just Maximus’ had become a good thing. There was a part of me that still regarded him as the enemy. But the longer I was around him the smaller that part became. I knew I couldn’t believe anything he said. I knew he was still keeping secrets. I knew there was more to Travis’ death than he was telling me. But one glance into those dark, smoldering gray eyes of his and it was hard to remember my own name let alone all the reasons I had not to trust him.

  “I brought you something to eat,” he said as he stepped into the apartment and kicked the door closed behind him. “It’s not much, but it’s all I could find.”

  “Gimme,” I demanded. Catching the tube of Pringles one-handed I used my teeth to pop off the lid and shook four crisps
into my mouth. “Sour cream and onion. Not bad.”

  “I am so glad you approve.” His gaze shuttered Maximus moved silently across the living room and sat in the only chair not cluttered with magazines and old takeout cartons. “How do you feel?”

  I grimaced. “Like I got attacked by a drinker in a cornfield. What time is it?”

  “Just shy of dawn. You’ve been asleep for nearly five hours.”

  “Five hours? I have to go. I have to–”

  “Sit down,” Maximus said firmly when I stood up. Or rather, attempted to stand up.

  Overcome by a wave of dizziness and tottering on legs that felt like wet noodles I half sat/half fell back onto the sofa. I looked down and saw that my calf had been neatly bandaged in white gauze. My elbow was similarly wrapped which probably explained why it was so stiff. Maximus had even changed the bandages on my knee and wrist.

  I was starting to look like a mummy.

  “Arland nicked an artery when he cut your arm.” The hard edge in Maximus’ tone revealed he wasn’t quite as calm as he appeared to be. There was still anger there. Plenty of it if his ticking jaw was any indication. “You have lost more blood than you realize. Your body is still in recovery. You need to rest, Lola.”

  “I need to get back to the gym. And what the hell kind of vampire is named Arland? You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Arland is very cunning and very ruthless.”

  “You mean Arland was very old, very cunning, and very ruthless.” My lips curved in a smirk as I envisioned him turning extra crispy when the sun came up. It was no less than the asshole deserved for trying to torture me to death.

  “Yes,” Maximus agreed with the faintest of smiles. “He was.”

  Leaning sideways I absently picked up a throw pillow and hugged it awkwardly against my chest with one arm. “So are you keeping me here or what? Because if you’re not…” I looked pointedly at the door. “I really need to leave. My friends are expecting me.”

  “Are you still planning on attempting a rescue mission?”

  “Maybe,” I hedged. “Maybe not. That’s not really any of your business.”

  A scowl creased Maximus’ brow. As weak morning sunlight filtered in through the windows I was given a clearer view of his face. His eyes looked tired and sunken. His skin was paler than usual. The cut on his lip had healed but the dried blood remained, caked in one corner of his mouth and on the side of his chin. It was the worse I’d even seen him, but even at his worse he was still outrageously attractive.

  Don’t you dare start, I warned my hormones as they stirred to life. This is not the time or the place, do you hear me?

  As per usual they weren’t listening. What did they care if the world as I knew it was coming to an end? There was a cute boy sitting across from me. That’s all that really mattered.

  “I am not keeping you here,” Maximus said after a long pause. “I only brought you back to your apartment because I thought you would find familiar surroundings a comfort.”

  “How did you even know where I lived?”

  “But I need you to believe me when I tell you that your mission will fail and most of you, if not all, will be killed,” he said, completely ignoring my question.

  As per usual.

  “We’re not stupid.” Feeling a little annoyed, I tossed the pillow aside. Despite my little episode in the cornfield, I wasn’t helpless. I might not have been as strong or as fast as a drinker, but I could hold my own when it came down to it.

  As long as I remembered to reload my freakin’ gun.

  “We have a plan and weapons and – and a plan. We’re not going in there blind.”

  “But that is exactly what you’re doing,” Maximus countered softly.

  “And why is that?”

  “Because they know you’re coming.”

  “That’s impossible,” I scoffed. “The drinkers have no idea what we’re planning. Unless you told them.”

  “Arland is the first of my kind I have spoken to in nearly two weeks. Even if I had told them, I doubt they would have believed me. We have not exactly been on speaking terms since I killed Angelique and I doubt my position will be improved by murdering Arland.”

  The first of my kind…

  Of my kind…

  My kind…

  Even after watching – or rather listening – to what Maximus had done to Arland it was still hard for me to remember that he was a drinker. Before I had learned he was still alive it had been easier. I’d had the image of him standing over Travis’ bloody body burned into the back of my mind to remind me. But now… now I didn’t know what to think or what to feel. Maybe monsters didn’t come in just black or white. Maybe there were shades of gray.

  Or maybe I was just a sucker for a brooding boy with a mysterious past.

  “Well if you didn’t tip them off, then who did?”

  Maximus stood up and walked to the window. Pulling aside the cheap plastic blinds he looked down at the street below, his hard gaze impossible to decipher. “That is an excellent question.”

  “Can you stop being all dark and cryptic for once and just give me a straight answer?” I demanded. Fishing around inside the tube of Pringles I pulled out a few more crisps and popped them into my mouth. In the silence my chewing was extra loud, but I didn’t care. Who exactly was I trying to impress? A moody vampire? Please. I was covered in blood and dirt and God knew what else. A little loud chewing was just icing on the cake. “Enough with the bullshit, Maximus. You saved my life for a reason. You brought me here for a reason. You’re telling me to call off the rescue for a reason. So what is it? What’s the reason? The real reason.”

  Without turning around he said, “I already told you. If you go to the farmhouse you will be killed.”

  For a second I seriously considered throwing the Pringles at his head but then thought better of it. Why waste perfectly good food on a stubborn jackass? “You keep saying that. And I keep telling you we’re prepared. You said they know we’re coming. How? How could they possibly know? If you didn’t tell them–”

  “One of your own did.” He spun around, gray eyes flashing with fire. “One of your own has forsaken you, Lola. And if you go to that farmhouse you will all pay the consequences of their betrayal.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Grave Robbing

  “YOU’RE LYING,” I SAID FLATLY.

  “And she wonders why I withhold the truth from her,” Maximus muttered under his breath.

  “Hello, sitting right here.” I waved the Pringle can for emphasis. “There is no way one of my friends tipped off the drinkers. Why would they? It doesn’t make any sense.” It really didn’t. One of us, working with the drinkers? Talk about crazy. What would that person possibly have to gain?

  The answer was nothing.

  Well, nothing except for two holes in their neck.

  “Besides,” I continued, “if there really is a traitor why haven’t the drinkers attacked us? We’ve been sitting ducks in the gym for over a week. If they knew about us we’d be dead already.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  My sigh was long and exasperated. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means they’re bored and looking for a little entertainment to pass the time. Most of the drinkers have moved on to surroundings towns and cities. Those who remain have been regulated to little more than babysitters, tasked with watching over the humans they’ve taken prisoner and the crawlers they’ve created.”

  “I know they may not be much to look at now, but given time and a bit of teaching they’ll make fine soldiers…”

  I shuddered as Arland’s words echoed in my head.

  “Tell me more about the crawlers.”

  Bracing his hands on the windowsill, Maximus leaned back against the blinds. They bent inwards, revealing a glimpse of a sky that was caught somewhere between dusk and dawn.

  If I didn’t get back to the gym soon Hunter was going to have an absolute fit. But the middle school was
at least three miles from here, and I was in no condition to walk. If I wanted to get there I was going to have to rely on Maximus to take me.

  Which meant I was going to have to play nice.

  “Please,” I added belatedly. “You mentioned them before and I’ve seen two of them, but I don’t understand what they are.”

  “The crawlers are an abomination.”

  “Do you… want to elaborate?” I ventured when he fell silent.

  Maximus gritted his teeth. “When a drinker wants to change a human there must be an equal transfusion of blood. The drinker will suck the human to the brink of death and then fill them with their own blood. This process usually takes several hours during which the drinker is at its most vulnerable. Once the transfusion is complete the human must feed immediately or they will reject the drinker’s blood and, quite literally, explode.”

  My nose wrinkled. “Gross.”

  “‘Gross’ is an understatement. Once the human has fed they will endure a period of suspended animation while their body adjusts to the changes.”

  “A period of what who?”

  “For all intents and purposes they will appear dead until they rise as a drinker.”

  Like Travis.

  I pushed the thought aside. Travis had looked dead because he was dead. I refused to believe otherwise. “So that’s how the drinkers create other drinkers. But how do they make crawlers?”

  “The process is the same except only half of the human’s blood is drained. The entire change happens more quickly and the drinker is put at less of a risk, but the consequences are grave. Because the human retains some of their blood they do not transform completely but hover somewhere in between what they were and what the drinker has turned them into.”