Dark Beauty (Seeker)

by Browning, Taryn

  Isabelle let what Abram said sink in. She could tell he regretted not responding to Clarissa’s cries earlier. As her mentor in training, it had been his job to keep her safe, and he missed the mark. She knew she’d feel the same way if she had been in his position, mentor or not. Seekers were connected in a way. She didn’t know Clarissa, but she felt her loss. “So, you think Ricky’s the one who killed the student?”

  He nodded. “From what the Chapter could tell me, it seems at least two Daychildren fled to your city. With Emanuel dead, that leaves just one more to take out. I checked in with the new Seeker in Chicago, and she said there haven’t been any more sightings, only vampires.”

  “But there are more?” Isabelle said.

  “I’m sure of it. They’ll most likely move on to different cities, like Emanuel and Ricky did. Demons are in short supply. Plus, they know at least one of us can kill them. I’m sure they are expecting word to spread throughout the Seeker community. We are now aware of their abilities and are better armed to neutralize them.”

  Isabelle stopped walking and turned to Abram. She surprised herself, feeling actually happy that she’d met him. Having another Seeker to speak with, one much closer to her age than Jared, was comforting. “Well, I want them out of my city so I can go back to doing what I was born to do—kill vampires, not this crazy hybrid.”

  “Are you hungry?” Abram said. Isabelle gladly accepted the change in conversation. “It looks like Ricky’s going to lay low after his kill, and the vamps haven’t come out yet. We could refuel.”

  Isabelle’s stomach growled at the mention of food. She hadn’t eaten anything since her king-size bowl of Mini Wheats at breakfast. “Do you like tacos?” she asked.

  “Do I like tacos—hell yeah! I’m in Texas.” He twirled around, taking in the warm, humid Houston air. Isabelle had never been to Chicago, but she’d heard it was often cold and windy. “Take me to the best taco joint you know.”

  Isabelle smiled. “That won’t be hard around here,” she said. “Let’s go eat…and then we’ll kill some vamps.”

  Chapter 8

  Abram and Isabelle started their patrol near the bustling downtown bar and restaurant area. After a few drinks, people became careless and stupid, making themselves easier prey. Equipped with full stomachs, daggers, and stakes, the Seekers were ready to take on anything undead.

  First they searched the alleys behind dive bars. Vomiting drunks who’d made their way into the alleyways became immediate targets, so the Seekers decided to hang out on two trash cans outside the back door of a biker bar. Isabelle wasn’t as annoyed about having Abram with her this time. Now that she knew he wasn’t sent to her city to act as her babysitter, he was a little less aggravating.

  “So, do you date?” Abram said, catching Isabelle off guard.

  “No,” she said immediately. “I have one job to do, kill vamps. Anyway, we move every four years, so it kind of makes it hard to form any type of lasting relationship.” With her legs crossed at the ankle, Isabelle kicked the trash can with the heel of her boot. “How about you?”

  He smirked. It was difficult to see his face under the dim light projecting off the back of the building, but he’d made that face so many times, she’d memorized his features. “You, I’d date.”

  Isabelle smacked him in the arm. “Be serious.”

  “Ouch—I am being serious.” He pushed her back playfully. “But no, I haven’t really met anyone. With my lifestyle, as you know, not only is it dangerous for me to get close to someone, but I don’t have the time. Plus, we don’t really age while we’re in the Seeker life. Nothing like being 15, 16, 17, 18, then back to 15 again. Damn four-year rotation. This is my first time being 18. I like it.” He laughed. “I guess I should enjoy this year before I’m yanked back to 15 again. Anyway, who needs relationships when you can have any girl you want? I’m not really the ‘boyfriend’ type.”

  She dismissed his conceited statement. Calling him out on his arrogance would only encourage him. “Well, I’ve been nothing but hateful toward you since we met.” It killed her to say it, but she figured they were in this together, so it was time for her to stop acting like a two-year-old. “I’m sorry for that.”

  “Oh, come on…I knew you liked me. What’s not to like?” He examined his well-defined chest through his tight T-shirt.

  “Ha—”

  “I’m likeable. I’m shocked you didn’t have your way with me that first night.”

  “Was that before or after you interrupted my kill?” She stopped their playful banter. Goosebumps rose on her arms and a creepy something’s-not-right feeling settled into her body.

  Abram stood. “You feel it too?”

  Isabelle nodded and fell in step next to Abram. They rounded the concrete building, spotting four vampires waiting for unsuspecting drunks to walk by. These were definitely vamps. Unlike the unusually human-looking Daychildren that reeked, vampires displayed a pale, chalky complexion. From their proximity to the sidewalk, the night children were in perfect position to drag their victims into the alley.

  One vampire caught sight of Isabelle and Abram. Instinctively, the others sensed their arrival.

  “Teenagers. Not what I expected, but I’ll take it,” a redhead said, licking his lips and exposing his fangs. Isabelle figured they were expecting bikers, considering they were hanging out beside a biker bar. Maybe if she and Abram had worn leather jackets, chaps, and bandanas they wouldn’t have stuck out so much among the Harleys.

  A blond girl wearing a jean jacket and a horrible ‘80s hairdo glanced at Abram’s waist. “They’re Seekers.” She took off down the alley, taking a sharp right at the sidewalk. A leggy brunette wearing a mini-skirt and fishnets hesitated and then followed her friend.

  “I’ve got the two guys,” Abram said. “Go after the girls.”

  Isabelle thought for a second. Was she really going to take orders from Abram? Then she pictured driving a stake right through the girl’s tacky rhinestone jean jacket. “Meet ya back here.”

  The girls hadn’t gotten far. Isabelle chased them into another alley, this time behind a mini-mart. Trapped on all sides, the girls decided to act all bad ass, popping their gum and jutting their hips out as they waited for Isabelle to approach.

  “Seriously, ladies—cheap hooker. Is that really the look you’re going for?” Isabelle said, brandishing two wooden stakes.

  “Bitch!” the blond one with big hair said.

  Raising a stake, Isabelle propelled it forward. The tip lodged in the girl’s heart. She turned into a pile of ash and vanished into the asphalt. The other girl, the brunette wearing a banana clip, charged her, pissed that Isabelle had staked her friend. Isabelle readied herself in a fighting stance. The girl swung, catching Isabelle in the jaw. Damn, the hooker’s strong. Isabelle wiggled her jaw around and raised her fists to block her face. Isabelle assessed the girl’s hits, looking for a pattern in her fighting style. After a few moments, she’d figured it out. She blocked the brunette’s punch and nailed her in the ribs. Isabelle stayed on her, throwing kicks and punches, the girl too disoriented to block her advances.

  “I think she’s ready to be staked,” Abram said from behind her. “Unless, of course, you’re using her for boxing practice.”

  Smiling, Isabelle extended her leg, catching the girl on her sideways banana clip with the bridge of her foot. This made Isabelle laugh. It served her right for rocking shitty fashion. Isabelle decided to end the girl’s misery and plunged the dagger into her heart. Like her floozy sidekick, her body disintegrated.

  Chapter 9

  The next day Isabelle met Abram and Jared at the training center. With no sign of Ricky the night before, Jared assisted her with her dagger technique. After their conversation had been interrupted by the college girl’s death and the fights they’d gotten into with Houston’s finest, Isabelle had forgotten to ask Abram about Ricky’s ability. She remembered him telling her it was worse than Emanuel’s telekinesis. She made a mental note
to talk to him about it after they finished sparring.

  She and Abram took turns role playing. First, Abram chose the role of the Daychild. Isabelle did her best not to laugh during the exercise. He took his role way too seriously. He reached into the trash can, removed the remnants of a stinky old tuna sandwich in a plastic bag, and shoved it in the waistband of his jeans.

  “What are you doing? You smell atrocious,” she said to him, trying her best to throw a punch. The smell kept making her gag.

  “I’m a Daychild, they stink.” Abram smiled, raising his upper lip to expose a pair of fake plastic fangs.

  “Okay, seriously, I can’t fight you.”

  “Why not?” Abram said, his voice distorted by the plastic mouthpiece. “Don’t you wanna kiss me now?”

  Isabelle fought back a smile, trying to remain composed. “You’re absolutely ridiculous. I can’t even take you seriously.”

  “Remove the teeth and the bag,” Jared said, stepping up to them. “We’re never going to get through this exercise with both of you laughing. Have you forgotten the seriousness of this matter? Tavares has created a new type of vampire, a very strong and difficult opponent.”

  Abram removed the fangs, placed the plastic bag back in the trash can, and mumbled, “You’re no fun.”

  “I heard that,” Jared said. “Nothing about this situation is fun, Abram.”

  Abram shot Isabelle a puzzled look, apparently not used to Jared’s all-business tone.

  A noise from the back of the warehouse caused all three of them to whip around. The door to the back entrance slammed. Isabelle knew it was the door because it squeaked horribly, definitely in need of some serious grease. The back door was accessed through a small utility room. It remained locked at all times, so whatever or whoever had opened it had to be strong enough to bust the lock.

  Abram grabbed his dagger. Jared left them to retrieve the dagger off his desk. Isabelle started forward with Abram only steps behind. Taking light, soundless steps, they flanked the utility room door, ready to ambush the intruder. Jared joined Isabelle on her side of the door. More noise from inside the room let them know the trespasser was still in there. Isabelle wondered if it was Ricky. None of them had felt him—at least she hadn’t. Her Seeker sense was usually pretty accurate.

  The door opened. Gripping her dagger and ready to strike, Isabelle waited for the intruder to show his face. As he stepped into the warehouse, Isabelle sprang at him, her blade coming inches from his skull. The man shouted, his blue eyes wide with horror.

  “Who the hell are you?” Isabelle said, removing the dagger from his temple. He was lucky she didn’t strike first and question later.

  “I—I own this building. Are you robbing me? Take anything you want. It’s been abandoned for years. There’s not much to—” Goosebumps rose up on Isabelle’s arms and her skin started to crawl. Great, now it decides to kick in. Before she could react, a cylinder jutted out of the warehouse owner’s stomach. His features twisted into a pain-filled expression, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

  Isabelle caught the man before he hit the concrete. Abram helped her get his body to the floor. A metal pipe protruded from his belly. His breath came out in fast, shallow gasps, his face filled with confusion and pain. Behind him, Ricky stepped through the door.

  “Don’t bother trying to take me out. You’re surrounded,” he said.

  Chapter 10

  Isabelle released the warehouse owner’s body and slid her hand behind her back. If they really were surrounded, she’d need more than one blade.

  “You’re not going to need that blade, or any, for that matter,” Ricky said.

  Isabelle drew in an anxious breath. How did he know her plan? She shifted her focus from Ricky to Abram. Something on Abram’s blank face told her he knew exactly how Ricky knew. It was like Ricky could read her mind.

  “So, Seekers,” Ricky said. “As I said. You’re not getting out alive.” He sauntered to the front of the room, taking in the replica of the city. “This really is a nice training facility—alleys and buildings—you’ve worked hard creating such a realistic atmosphere.”

  Jared moved away from the door, taking careful steps toward Ricky. Isabelle joined her mentor. Abram positioned himself away from them. Isabelle figured he’d chosen to take a spot near the perimeter in case there were others besides Ricky lurking outside the warehouse.

  “What are you going to do, mentor?” Ricky laughed. “There’s nothing you can do that I already don’t know you’re doing.”

  Again, Isabelle wondered what he meant by that. Then, it clicked. Ricky’s demonic ability. He could read minds. She eyed Abram, angry he hadn’t told her before. This was life-or-death information. If they made it out alive, she had every intention of confronting him.

  “You said we’re surrounded,” Jared said. “What makes you think I’m going to believe you and not kill you here on the spot?”

  “Him—” Ricky pointed behind them.

  A foreboding figure stood in a shaded area of the warehouse, shielded from the sunlight streaming through the small rectangular windows that outlined the building. Isabelle figured he had to be a vampire, otherwise he would have shown himself in the direct sunlight like Ricky. From what she could tell, this man was unusually tall. His hair appeared to be an ashen white, and his skin was just as pale. In the dim light, his eyes glowed red. With his shoulders pinned back and his pale neck extended upward, there was something extremely deadly, yet superior, about his demeanor.

  “Tavares,” Jared said, for the first time appearing nervous and not in control. He always kept his businesslike cool, never spooked by anything. This time it was clearly different. This was the first time he’d met the vampire king.

  “The vampire king,” Isabelle said, not intending for the words to actually leave her lips. Sure, she’d heard stories about him, but to meet him in person? Holy crap!

  “You’ve got it,” Ricky said, amusement in his tone.

  Confidence built up in Isabelle, and she shot Tavares a hard glare. She refused to show any weakness to any vampire—king or not. “So, to what do we owe the pleasure of your presence, your majesty?” she said mockingly.

  Ricky answered, “You killed Emanuel and Paul. There are consequences for taking out the king’s protégés.”

  “What, he can’t answer for himself?” she said, vying to wipe the smugness off Ricky’s face. Without thinking, Isabelle went after Ricky. That was it. In the presence of the king or not, this jerk had to go.

  Ricky crouched into a ready stance. Isabelle ignored his motion, shoving one dagger back into her boot so she could fight and clutching the other in her palm. She sprinted into a flying sidekick. He twisted out of the impact of her foot to his chest. “You can’t fight me, little Seeker. I know everything you’re going to do before you do it.”

  Isabelle continued after him, punching and kicking. Each time she attempted to make contact, he blocked or dodged her. She needed to figure out a distraction to keep him from reading her thoughts. She only needed a second. Abram and Jared hung back, letting her take on the Daychild. If there were more around the warehouse, they’d have to be on guard for any others who might decide to attack. Jared was closest to Tavares, still keeping his eye on the vampire king, although she doubted Tavares would move out of his shaded position next to the wall.

  Abram broke his stance next to the outer wall and darted toward them. Ricky switched his focus to Abram for a split second. This is my chance. For the quick moment he’d glanced over to Abram, she had the opportunity to strike him before he read her mind. She landed a roundhouse kick to Ricky’s head. He stumbled back in a daze. Isabelle jumped on him again, punching and kicking him. A fury burst through her. She became consumed by a rage that she somehow felt was associated with Clarissa’s death. Of course, she had never known Clarissa, but she felt connected to her in a way. They were both new Seekers who had never expected to be up against vampire-demon hybrids.

  Sweeping his legs
out from under him, Isabelle threw her leg over his body and straddled him. His dead black eyes stared at her one last time and a smirk formed on his face. Then she shoved the dagger through his skull. Isabelle shot up and stepped away from Ricky’s body. Within moments, no trace of him remained.

  Jared’s boots pounded across the pavement with no need for stealth. Isabelle knew Jared’s thoughts, and by the look on Abram’s face, so did he.

  At full sprint, Jared barreled into the vampire king, his fingers wrapping around Tavares’s throat. Tavares didn’t move. Instead, he took Jared’s abuse, displaying a cocky smirk as Jared threw punches, barely registering the blows.

  Jared left the king for only a moment, long enough to break off a splintered wooden chair leg to use as a stake, only prepared for a Daychild. The king remained motionless and amused. Isabelle tried to figure out what the king thought was so funny. It wasn’t like he was even trying to protect himself. Why won’t he protect himself? Isabelle realized Ricky was right. The only reason the king would remain so calm in the face of death was if the warehouse was surrounded, or if he had a dangerous ace up his sleeve.