by Ben Alderson
I clench my jaw shut as I come to a screeching halt. I wipe away the blood that cascades down my cheek, licking it off my hand. I enjoy the grimace strewn across their faces as I indulge, if only for a moment, in the taste of my own blood. Vampires may not feed from other vampires as a true source of food, but our own blood is fair game. Their disgust is ever so pleasing.
In the distance, I hear more men approaching. I must move quickly. As much as I’d like to draw out the fight, taking my time ending each one of their lives as repent for what they did to me and to the others, I don’t have the luxury of time.
I run toward them, quickly closing the distance. I fall to my knees and slide until they’re only an arm’s reach before me. Bullets pelted toward me fly overhead. The noise of shots fired echo all around me, bouncing off the walls. Steadily, the men shoot, still firing where I was once but no longer stand. Even in my weakened state, they are no match for my speed, but my strength is dwindling, my power surge waning.
I reach for the heels of the two men before me, yanking them forward. They cry out as they teeter over. Their heads smack against the cement floor as I crouch. Fists to faces, I end their lives with little effort on my part.
I stand, slamming my hands against the guns of my final two attackers. They waver sideways, offering me just enough time to reach for their throats. They too fall. I stand in a heap of blood, bodies, sweat, and spit.
Cages rattle all around me. Exhausted, I turn, listening as even more approach. Dozens and dozens of combat boots smack concrete as even more make their way toward me. I hear gunshots in the distance. Wolves howl, and men scream.
If I’m going to make it home tonight, I have to worry about my neck and no one else’s.
As I take the first step toward the door, it pains me to leave them behind. I know how they suffer. I dash to one of the cage doors. Inside, a vampire cowers in the shadows. When she sees me, she approaches, and her eyes beg me to save her. I reach for the bars, thinking I can pry them apart, but the closer my fingers come to the metal cage, the more I feel the rush of electric energy fueling an outstanding alarm system.
I know if I touch this door, or any of the others, I will die. The shock may only knock me unconscious, but the men who find me will surely drive a stake through my heart as payment for killing their brethren.
I shake my head and speak softly. “I’m sorry.”
I stumble backward, nearly tripping over the body of a soldier.
“Please, don’t leave us here,” she says.
The pounding of boot against cement is louder, and I know I have only seconds to make my decision. Either stay, fight, and die or run, hide, and survive.
Quickly, I reach for each of the men I killed, tossing a body in front of each cage. Blood splatters as I slam them down. Slowly, it begins its descent into each cage.
“Drink,” I order. “Good luck…”
And with that, I leave them. I dash out of the small room that contained our cages and run into a long corridor. I choose a direction, running toward the sound of howling, screaming, and shots fired.
Each time I pass a door, I cringe at the thought of what lies behind it. Could it be more supernaturals? Another torture room? The exit? I take a chance in running this direction; I’m hoping the hunters are guarding the exit and that I’m not running farther from freedom.
With each step I take, I feel my energy draining. I need to refuel, or I won’t make it out alive. I make a promise that the next human I come across will be the one I eat. I don’t think about the fact that killing a human is what got me into this mess in the first place.
At this point, it’s kill or be killed, it’s see my family again or let them mourn me.
I skid to a screeching halt. The corridor spills into a large open room, decorated just as plainly as the rest of this place. There’s nothing but cement floors, concrete walls, and bright lights. Hunters are everywhere, each fighting a losing battle against a hungry wolf. There must be dozens. How did they escape from their cages? I assumed the sirens overhead meant danger, but they couldn’t compel their release, like I did.
I step out from the shadows and make eye contact with a familiar set of dark brown irises. Will stands before me, gun in hand, blades strapped to his waist. He’s close enough to touch, and all I can think about is the promise I made to myself.
Kill or be killed. A dark voice within me taunts my earlier words.
I’m hungry, starving, and the memory of his sweet blood lingers on my tongue. I swallow the knot that forms in my throat as I close the space between us. As I do, he adjusts the angle of his gun so it rests against my chest, flush with the gaping wound in my chest, a physical reminder of being stabbed repeatedly by the executioner.
“You know I can’t let you leave,” he says.
“Then why save me?” I counter.
“Because I didn’t sign up for torture,” he says plainly. “I didn’t sign up for… this.”
Behind him, a wolf charges toward us. I can hear the pounding of his feet against pavement, even above the chaos echoing around us. The beast will save me from his gun, because Will doesn’t seem even the slightest bit of concern that a battle is raging. His focus is on me and me alone.
“The tip of your gun is bloody,” I say. “Do you know why?”
He breaks my gaze to glance down. Any other time, that would have been his downfall. In the mere seconds it takes him to look from my eyes to my wounded chest, I can rip out his throat. He would be dead—his body a taut heap on the ground, my belly full of his blood.
But something stops me. No longer am I plagued by the memories of his dead girlfriend. It’s not even his memories of the lost boy he used to be that stop me. It’s him. The man before me risked his life to save mine. Without his help, I’d already be dead.
I can’t kill him, but he won’t let me walk away. So what am I to do?
“I will leave this place tonight, Will,” I promise.
“I believe that you will try,” he says.
“Please don’t make me have to hurt you.”
He arches a brow. “Would you? After what I did for you? Do you live by a code, or is my father right? Are you just an animal?”
The wolf leaps, jaw agape, drool spilling onto the floor, claws bared and ready to rip apart every fiber of Will’s being.
“We’re not so different, you and I,” I say.
Will blinks, and I’ve casted his gun away from me with the subtle jerk of my hand. He blinks again, and my arm is wrapped around his body; I spin us so we change positions. My movements are too fast for Will, who teeters behind me, grabbing onto my waist to steady himself. His arm around my waist grips tightly, and my pulse races at the connection. It’s been days since I’ve felt comfort, and I struggle with the realization that I cannot welcome it. Not because he’s a hunter. Not because I’m a vampire. Not because we are clearly meant to live in separate worlds. But because a wolf is seconds from impaling my weakened flesh with its razor-sharp teeth.
The wolf’s eyes widen in surprise as it makes impact with me. Recognition flashes before its eyes, and it flails its legs about, as if it could stop mid-air. But like a semi-truck on an icy road, I know it cannot simply stop. So I push it away, knowing my body cannot withstand the force of its bulk making impact, and watch as it is flung across the room. Deep within me, my heart sinks as I watch it slam into a group of hunters.
I gasp as one slams its knife repeatedly into the wolf’s belly. It howls in response. One by one, the men turn on the wolf. Pushing away the welcoming embrace of the hunter by my side, I run to the wolf’s aid.
One by one, I dodge the hunters’ attacks. I leap over some, choosing the easy way out of an attack. But I’m not so lucky with others. I fall to my knees, sliding across the floor, watching as dozens of wooden bullets dance above me. By the time I reach the wolf, I’ve successfully avoided all of my attackers. I’m not proud of myself, but I’m still alive, so I can’t complain.
I reach
the wolf just as another hunter lifts his knife. Seconds before blade meets flesh, I catch his arm. Wrapping my fingers around the man’s wrist, I squeeze until I hear bone crack, but the man does not flinch. Anger boils in the pit of my gut, and I let it spill over. I reach for him, taking his smug face into my hand. I twist his head, snapping his neck. As the blade falls to the ground, I snatch it up, planting it firmly in the chest of the other hunter beside me.
“Two down,” I say, grinning.
I leap over the wounded wolf, backhanding one attacker while blocking a hit from another. I kick in the man’s shins, and he falls to his knees before me. Grabbing onto each side of his head, I jerk my arms from side to side until the man’s head no longer faces me.
Focusing my attention on my final victim, I close the very small distance between us. Grabbing him by the throat, I lift him in the air until his feet dangle. He scratches at my hand with one hand while bringing down his blade in another. The knife makes impact, impaling my shoulder. I cry out, dropping the man as I stumble to the ground. Withdrawing his weapon, I quickly sink it into his neck.
I turn and face the wolf, who pants and whines beside me. Its fur is matted and bloodstained. His chest heaves as it struggles to breathe. I know it can’t withstand another hit.
All around me, bodies fall. Wolves perish. But in the distance, the doorway leading to stairs is unprotected. I scan the crowd, searching for Will and finding him sparring with another wolf.
Now is your chance, the darkness croons.
I glance back to the wolf. He cannot walk alone. I don’t need to test him to know this to be true. He steadily bleeds, the pool of blood growing larger, thicker, darker as each second passes. I’m sure his alpha has some magical concoction that would heal him, for wolves are never seen by the local healer of Hillcrest.
I stare into its eyes. I know only seconds pass, but it feels like an eternity. Its golden irises look oddly familiar. It nudges its nose against me just before a long, sticky tongue swipes across my skin. I shiver in response. Something about this wolf feels so very… familial.
I cannot leave him to die.
I shimmy an arm beneath the wolf, and it groans in response.
“I’m going to try to get us out of here,” I whisper.
I pull it closer, wrapping an arm around its large torso.
“We have to move quickly…” I grunt.
Only as I pull the wolf’s frail frame into my arms do I realize its snout is resting against my bare neck. I swallow hard.
“No funny business, got it? I’m not some tasty treat. I go down, and we both go down.”
Again, the wolf licks my skin, and this time, I physically shake. Although it tickles, I can’t say I don’t like the sensations building within me. Something about this wolf feels like home. I feel like I’ve known him forever. He feels… like George or Chad.
I take two steps before stumbling, sending the wounded wolf flying through the air as I trample over him. I grunt as I roll onto my side. I brush my hair from my eyes just in time to feel the compression of gun muzzle against my forehead. I dare a peek and stare into the hungry eyes of another hunter.
I should have known my escapades wouldn’t go unnoticed. The moment his finger begins to pull the trigger, the world seems to slow. I blink through each moment, knowing I am not fast enough to stop him. Not now. Not while I’m this weak.
But before he can pull the trigger flush with the metal frame, he is mauled by a wolf. Greedily, the wolf tears through the man’s clothes until his screams echo no more. Turning back, the wolf nudges me to stand, pushing me toward the door.
“We can’t leave him,” I say, spinning from its control.
I drop to my knees and usher the wolf into my arms. The other wolf lowers its head, nudging his fallen comrade. I pull the wounded onto his back, and he jerks him farther until he’s cradled center mass. Together, we climb the stairs to freedom, escorted by the remaining wolves.
Among a blaze of gunfire and through a mountain of death, we emerge victorious.
George
By the time we walk into the belly of the club, not a single vampire pays us attention. I find it strange, and I’ve been living in this town long enough to know there’s a reason for everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if our interaction with the supreme put her mark on us. She’s claimed us as hers—and to be harmed by her alone.
I want to leave, but Chad doesn’t look at me long enough for me to tell him. Instead, he guides me back to the bar and orders another round of drinks. And then another. By the third, he is swaying ever so slightly. He knocks them back, one after another, only to order more. By the fourth, even the barmaid begins turning her pointed nose up at him.
I have always wondered what effect alcohol would have on vampires. It seems they can feel alcohol’s effects, but they can handle many more drinks than humans—or witches. I couldn’t even finish my first glass of water—the same one from when I arrived—before Chad finished a half-dozen drinks.
Chad has his head in his hands when three vampires approach us from behind—even I didn’t sense them. When a hand slinks around my chest and tugs me back off my stool, I gasp. My surprised scream pierces the quiet room, echoing through the entire establishment.
I try to push my attacker away, but thickly muscled arms hold me down. They seem to be everywhere, like the limbs of an octopus squeezing the life from its prey. I scratch and slap, pinch and twist, but my efforts are moot.
“Struggling only makes it more exciting, witch.”
He spins me around so I am facing him. His face—handsome and devilish—is inches from my own. He’s shorter, like me, and his dark hair is caked with styling product. A strong copper scent permeates from his mouth. His plump lips are stained red.
“Let go of me!” I struggle, but his strength surpasses my own.
I sense someone rustling behind me.
“Gerroff him,” Chad slurs.
“Can you believe it, boys? Chad Danvers has graced us with his presence, and I see he’s bagged himself a good one. I wonder how the Alcott witch tastes…” The vampire dips his mouth to my neck, and my blood freezes like water in a shallow stream—cold and hard.
I can’t move. My mind fails to connect with my arms and legs. Instead, I am still, morphing into the perfect prey.
“Even your scent…” The vampire inhales deeply. “No wonder you have bewitched him. I can barely contain myself. One little nip wouldn’t hurt, right? We do love to share...”
The tickle of a cold kiss brushes against my skin, and my mind no longer controls my body.
The darkness does.
It explodes from my very being. The feeling is pleasurable. It’s a sudden buildup of tension that conjures from nowhere but soon fills every cell and cradles every bone in my body.
As simple as breathing, it is freeing.
The music fades into silence. The swaying bodies of vampires drunk on blood and booze disappear from view. All I see is the vampire whose hands touch me.
In a blink, he is off me and skidding across the floor, taking vampires down with sheer force. It is not the element air that I willed to aid me.
It’s something different.
Something darker.
A blanket of darkness that sprays out of my hands like boiling oil.
I raise my hands and see the dark shadow swirling around my clenched fists. My muscles spasm as I prepare to throw them out before me, but a hand lands heavily on my shoulder.
“Let me,” the voice says.
Chad pushes past me, racing across the club at speeds I can’t even see. One moment, his hand was on me; the next, he is leaning over the vampire, his hand hugging the beast’s ivory throat. Chad flexes his strength, lifting the assailant carelessly off the floor. He lifts him carelessly.
The darkness within me laughs gleefully as it watches Chad throw fist after fist into the vampire’s jaw. Blood sprays across the floor beneath the boys, but none of it belongs to Chad.
I cling to my elements, which warn me of the imminent danger. Just as other vampires charge me, I conjure a shield of sharp wind to surround my body. The makeshift wall stops the other two vampires from getting any closer. Beyond it, they hiss and snarl, flashing pointed canines at me. Tongues lap against lips. Faces crinkle with angered lines.
“Blood slave,” one spits, running nails down my protective shield.
Hurt them, the darkness whispers.
The other cracks his neck from side to side and says, “Pretty boy, let me taste you.”
Hurt them!
No, I respond internally.
“Come on…” The vampire moans like an impatient child. “Let us in.”
The darkness begs for me to act out, but I push it down. I try everything in my power to control it, slapping my hands to the sides of my head, blocking out its pleas.
I look to the shadowy stairs at the back of the room, where movement catches my attention. Perched on the second floor landing, the supreme watches us with arms crossed over her chest and a cunning grin strewn across her ethereal face. Her eyes are on me, waiting, watching. I see the flash of burning intrigue in her deep, ruby eyes. She wants to see my power.
I flex and relax my hold over the element air, but instead of dropping it completely, I throw it out on all sides, not caring who it hits. No longer do I worry for the two vampires or their surroundings.
I run for Chad. He is on the floor, panting, and the other vampire is scurrying away on all fours.
“We need to leave.”
I wrap my arms around his chest and pull him toward me. I feel his reluctance, but he does not ignore me. He tries to stand. Wobbling, he seems out of breath and exhausted. The booze has likely almost worked its way through his system.
“Chad, you are going to need to help me,” I scold.
