by Kristin Cast
“Is someone down there?” the man yelled.
“I think I see a car,” a woman answered. “Have you called the…?” Her voice drifted off.
Okay, they weren’t coming down here. Not yet, at least. I had time. I tugged at the broken steering wheel. It snapped off in my hands. I set it aside, then ran my hand down my legs, trying to wriggle them free. The muscles weren’t responding, but my legs seemed to be loose.
Just as long as they weren’t really loose…like not connected to the rest of my body, because I was pretty sure that whatever regenerative abilities vampires had didn’t go that far. Really sure actually, considering that the only way to kill me was decapitation. Some parts just don’t grow back.
My legs seemed fully attached, though. And already mending, which meant in a few more minutes, they’d be really pinned.
I ratcheted my seat back and wriggled until I got my legs out. They still wouldn’t move, though, which may have had something to do with the broken bones sticking through holes in my jeans.
It was a good thing I wasn’t overly squeamish. My dream of a career in sports medicine was looking a little dim these days, but at least my summers volunteering at a clinic came in handy as I repositioned my legs. The bones slid back in with surprising ease, like they were just waiting for a nudge.
They obviously weren’t going to mend in the next few minutes, though, meaning I couldn’t wait to walk away from this accident. I cleared the safety glass from the window, pulled myself through…and hit the ground face-first, somersaulting onto my back. I lay there, getting my bearings and listening.
I could still hear the couple at the top of the ridge, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying until I caught the words “…seems to be a path down over here…”
I rolled over fast and pulled myself through the undergrowth. There was no way to do that quietly. Dead leaves rustled and dry brush snapped as I crept forward. Before long I heard the man shout, “I think someone’s down here!”
I dragged myself along faster, watching for the man’s head to appear over the long grass. Which meant I wasn’t watching where I was going. When my hand touched down on air, I tried to pull up short, but it was too late. I tumbled over a stream bank, getting a mouthful of mud and water as I splashed down.
“Did you hear that?” the man yelled.
Running footsteps sounded. I looked around. There was no place to hide. I was trapped…
…in a swollen, muddy stream at least two feet deep.
I pulled myself into the deepest part of the streambed and stretched out. The ice-cold water closed over me. As the water filled my nostrils, some still-human part of my brain went crazy, telling me I was drowning. I squeezed my eyes shut and ignored it.
After a few minutes, I sensed the couple approach. Yes, sensed. Before I turned, Marguerite tried to explain this vampire’s sixth sense, and I’d compared it to sharks, who can pick up electromagnetic pulses from their prey. Now that I’ve experienced it, I’d say that’s exactly what it is—a weird pricking of the skin that tells me people are close.
When I concentrated, I could pick up the couple’s voices, muffled and faint.
“…car’s empty.”
“No one could have walked away from that.”
“Well, there isn’t any blood. Maybe the driver was thrown clear.”
“We’ll backtrack. Keep looking. The police should be here any moment.”
I waited until I couldn’t sense them anymore. Then I lifted my head slowly. I could hear them back by the embankment.
I wiggled my legs. They were moving now. Good.
I tried pushing up. My legs gave way and I splashed back into the stream. I hunkered down, but the couple must not have heard. I rose again, not putting too much weight on my legs, just using my knees to get some traction, pushing myself up the streambed and into the long grass.
When I was far enough away, I took out my cell phone.
It was off. And it wouldn’t turn on.
As I shook it, a shadow passed over me. I looked up, and caught only a blur. Then hands grabbed my shoulders and pinned me down. Something ice-cold pressed against my neck. I writhed and twisted, struggling to get free, but the world tilted and spun and then…
When I came to, there was still a guy bending over me. Instinctively I jerked up and slammed him with a line drive to the chin. He flew back with a yelp. I jumped to my feet. Still a little wobbly, but at least I could stand.
I glanced around quickly. The forest was gone, and I was in a room with wooden plank walls, like a cabin. I blinked hard, woozy from the sedative, my brain not kicking into gear yet.
The guy I’d hit glowered up at me as he rubbed his chin. He looked about my age. Broad shoulders. Football player build. Dark hair. Blue eyes, which were looking more pissed off by the second. When I stepped forward, he leaped to his feet, fists flying up, boxer stance. I took a step. He swung. I grabbed his wrist and threw him over my shoulder.
“Could I get a little help here?” he called as he struggled up from the floor.
“He’d like you to stop hitting him.” Another male voice, lower pitched, with an accent I recognized from a few months in New Jersey. I looked over to see a second teenage guy sitting on a crate, book in hand. Scrawny. Glasses. Wavy light brown hair that tumbled over his forehead. He glanced up from his book, dark eyes meeting mine. “Please.”
“Thanks a hell of a lot,” the other guy said.
I turned. The jock was coming at me, moving slow, cautious.
“Look,” he said. “Whatever you think—”
Another step brought him into personal space range. Another wrist grab landed him on the floor.
He glared at Glasses. “Would it kill you to get involved?”
Glasses gave me a once-over. “Maybe.” He closed the book but made no move to stand. “Clearly she thinks we’re the ones who brought her here, which would make sense, coming to with you crouched over her. First, I would point out, though, that we’re a little young to be in the market for a backwoods bride. Second, had we been the ones taking her captive, I hope we’d have had the foresight to tie her up before waking her. Third, if she checks for exits, she’ll discover we’re as trapped as she is.”
I looked around. It was a single room with only blankets and crates on the floor. No windows. One door. I walked over to it and yanked. It was bolted—from the outside. I could sense at least one person guarding the door.
I turned back to the guys. The one with the book stood.
“Neil Walsh,” he said. “That’s Chad. We hadn’t gotten to surnames yet. I take it you’re a vampire?”
I stared for a second, then choked a laugh. “Excuse me?”
“Vampire. By blood, at least. If not, then you’re in the wrong place. This party, apparently, is only for hereditary vampires. Genetically created hereditary vampires. Subjects of an experiment. Escaped subjects, I might add.”
If my heart still beat, it would have been racing. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Cut the crap,” Chad said. “You’ll—”
Neil lifted his hand, stopping him. “It might not be crap. We knew what we were, but she might not.” He looked at me. “If that’s the case, then ignore everything I just said.”
“Oh, that’ll work.” Chad took another step toward me. “I’m sorry if this is news to you, but as crazy as it sounds, it’s the truth. You were part of an experiment. Someone—maybe your parents, like mine and Neil’s—took you away from it. The guys who kidnapped us are bounty hunters. My guess is that our families trusted someone they shouldn’t have, someone who could be bought. These bounty hunters want to take us back to the scientists. The Edison Group.”
I struggled to keep my expression neutral, but there must have been a glimmer of fear in my eyes when Chad said that name, because behind him, Neil nodded. Chad only kept looking at me, waiting for a reaction.
“Okay…,” I said finally. “So…vampires…”<
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“Not real vampires,” Chad said. “Obviously you aren’t out there sucking blood and hiding in the daylight.”
“Real vampires aren’t allergic to the sun,” Neil said. “The book says—”
“Screw the book. My point is that we aren’t vampires. Not yet. Not for a very long time, I hope.”
I held myself still, hoping to give away nothing.
“Okay, that’s a lot to take in,” Chad said. “And you probably think we escaped from the loony bin, but the main thing is that we’re trapped and there are others out there, like us, in danger. Two more kids who escaped. We need to get out, find them, and warn them.”
I nodded. I didn’t dare do anything else.
“You’re hurt.”
Neil was looked at my legs. I glanced down. My jeans had huge holes where the bones had poked through.
I sat quickly and made a show of examining the skin underneath. “Just ripped. Probably when I was running through the woods. That’s how they caught me—ran me off the road.”
When I looked up, I almost bumped heads with Neil. He was bent over, looking at my legs through the holes. The flesh was still pitted, the skin rough, like scar tissue.
“Old accident,” I said.
He looked at my other leg, with the same circular scar right under the tear. Then he looked at me. I kept my face impassive, but I could tell he knew, and I felt a weird tingling in my chest, like my heart was trying to pound.
Neil nodded and straightened. “As long as you’re okay.”
“She’s not okay,” Chad said. “She’s a prisoner about to be handed over to mad scientists. Same as us. Same as those other kids.” He looked at me. “Do you have any idea who they are?”
I shook my head.
He continued. “Maybe you didn’t know about the experiment, but you must have heard something. You’ve been on the run, right? Like us? Did your parents talk about other kids? Maybe you visited them and your folks said they were old friends?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
He exhaled, cheeks puffing. “Okay, well, think about that while we work on an escape plan. But don’t ask him for ideas.” A dismissive nod toward Neil, who’d already retreated to his crate. “He isn’t interested in escaping.”
“Of course I am,” Neil said. “As I see it, though, we’re temporarily without options. No windows. One door, locked. Presumably the men who brought us here are right outside it.”
“They are,” I said before I could stop myself. “I mean, I heard someone out there. Or I thought I did.”
Again, Chad bought it. Again, Neil didn’t, studying me with that inscrutable look.
“Go back to your vampire book,” Chad said. “We’ll wake you up when we’re ready to go.”
“Vampire book?” I said.
“It’s the journal of a vampire,” Neil said. “My parents told me what I am only last year. They’re hereditary vampires themselves but don’t know very much about the condition. Entire families carry the gene, but for most members, like my parents, it’s recessive.”
“Fascinating,” Chad said, yawning.
Neil’s gaze settled on me, like he was waiting for permission to continue. I nodded, and he did.
“By recessive, I mean that, on death, they won’t return as vampires. They may, however, pass that ability on to their children. With both carrying the gene, my parents were concerned it might increase the chance of their child being a true vampire. They were directed to the Edison Group, who promised that with some genetic modification, they could ensure that didn’t happen. They lied.”
“They made sure it would happen,” I said. “And they made other changes as well.”
“Presumably. My parents left the experiment once they discovered the truth. They did not, however, stay around long enough to learn exactly what was in store for me if…” He paused, head tilting. “When I become a vampire. Once the bounty hunters discovered how little I knew, they gave me this.” He lifted the old book.
“Thoughtful of them.”
A twist of a smile. “They’re trying to scare me. Show me what horrible future is waiting for me while promising that, despite what my parents told me, the Edison Group isn’t really evil. They can help.”
“You don’t seem very scared to me.”
He shrugged. “Knowledge is power. I want to know exactly what’s in store. And, if I’m lucky, there may be something in here that’ll help us. Some ability they aren’t expecting.”
“Well, you go ahead and read that,” Chad said. “In the meantime, I’ll actually try—”
He stopped and stepped toward me.
“There’s a huge sliver sticking out of your shoulder,” Chad said. “Didn’t bleed though. Weird.”
Damn! It must have been left over from the branch. I should have checked better. As I twisted out of Chad’s way, Neil quickly slipped behind me and said, “It’s the angle of entry. It just didn’t hit any veins. Here, I’ll take it out for you.”
I hesitated, then nodded.
“Are we allowed to ask your name?” he asked as he steered me out of Chad’s line of vision and wriggled the sliver free.
“Katiana,” I said. “But everyone calls me Kat.”
“Katiana. Hmm. Russian?”
I said it was. I had no idea and knew he wasn’t really interested in the answer, was just talking to distract Chad, which I appreciated.
“Thanks,” I said, when he pulled it out.
He nodded. He had the sliver cupped in his hand and was tucking it into his pocket. When fingers touched the back of my shoulder again, I spun.
“Hey!” I said.
Chad stepped back, staring at his clean fingertips. “There’s no blood.” He looked up, gaze hardening. “There’s no blood.”
He grabbed my arm so fast I didn’t see it coming. Neil tried to stop him, but Chad wrenched me off balance. His fingers went to the side of my neck. Before I could yank away, he shoved me aside.
“She’s a vampire,” he said, staring at me like I’d just crawled out of a crypt.
“No kidding,” Neil said. “That’s why she’s here.”
“You know what I mean. She’s a real vampire. Turned. Dead.”
“As we’ll be one day,” Neil said. “And if you’re wondering why she didn’t tell us, your reaction answers that.”
“How the hell can you be so calm? She’s a vampire.”
“At the risk of repeating myself, so are you. She’s just a little further along in the process.” He glanced at me. “It didn’t just happen, did it? In the car accident?”
I shook my head. “It was about six months ago. The Edison Group caught up with us. Shot me, apparently figuring they were safe either way. Either I’d be reborn as a vampire and prove their experiment succeeded, or I’d die and they’d have one fewer escapee to worry about. They didn’t get their answer, though. They thought I was accidentally cremated, so they stopped looking for me.”
“If the bounty hunters are still gathering escaped subjects, they may not have notified the Edison Group. Which means these men may not have realized you’ve transformed already. We should keep it that way. It’ll be an advantage—”
The dead bolt clicked. The door opened an inch, a gun barrel poking through. A man said something. I didn’t hear it. All I could do was stare at that gun, remember the last time I’d seen one, remember the flare, the bullet hitting my chest…
Neil’s fingers wrapped around my elbow. “Do as they say,” he whispered.
Chad was at the far wall, facing it, hands up. We did the same.
“Spread out more,” the man said. “Hands behind your backs. Make one move and we’ll test whether you really can come back from the dead.”
A chuckle from a second guy.
I put my hands behind my back. They bound us, then ordered us out. I caught a glimpse of one captor. There wasn’t much to see—just a guy in a Halloween mask. Dracula. I suppose they thought that was funny.
They took us
out to a cube van. The back doors were open, the interior empty except for bottled water and old blankets. Without a word, they pushed us inside and slammed the door.
There was only one window—a grimy square on the van’s back door. It let in just enough light for us to be able to see one another. Not that anyone seemed very sociable right now. Chad sat in a corner, knees up. Neil was on the other side, back to the wall, staring into nothing, deep in thought. Neither had said a word to me since we got in.
I felt the weight of that silence. From Chad, I expected it. Neil had seemed different, but I guess it had just been logic talking back there. He knew he should be okay with me because someday he’d be a vampire too. Now, in the silence, emotion took over and he wanted nothing to do with me.
“I’m sorry.”
Chad’s voice at my ear made me jump. I looked over to see him beside me.
“I was a jerk back there,” he said. “I’m sorry. I just…It caught me off guard.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not, but thanks.”
He smiled then, a slow grin that, six months ago, would have had my heart skipping. Now all I could think was how good he smelled. Like dinner.
I looked away.
“There,” Neil said, making us both jump.
Neil lifted his hands. The rope fell free. He frowned at the abrasions on his wrists. Blood seeped from one. I could smell it.
“Good,” Chad said grudgingly. “Now, can you get ours off too?”
“That was the plan.”
As he freed us, I was careful not to inhale. Of course, I still thought about the blood smeared on his wrist. I couldn’t help it. That gave me an idea, though. For escaping.
I told the guys. Chad jumped on it. Neil didn’t. We talked about alternatives, and he couldn’t see one, though, so he agreed.
The van screeched around a corner, bumping along a dirt road as Chad banged the walls and shouted for help. It jerked to a stop. The passenger door opened and slammed. Chad went still, lying on the floor of the van, me crouched over him, mouth hovering over his neck.
I could hear the blood pounding through Chad’s veins. Heard it, felt it, saw it, the pulse on his neck beating hard, blood rushing so close to the surface I could smell it. My fangs extended. I pulled back, shuddering, instinctively closing my eyes to focus on retracting them, then stopped. This was the idea, right? Fangs and all.
