Vampire (Alpha Claim 8-Final Enforcement): New Adult Paranormal Romance (Vampire Alpha Claim)

by Eros, Marata

  I nodded at her, letting my face fill with an unspoken question; you okay with this ?

  She nodded.

  We touched the ankle at the same time—without gloves. There was no transference without that skin contact.

  Her hand was beside mine. As she slipped her pinky on my hand, we fell into the memories of the slain girl.

  I panicked and Smith saw. Immediately he tuned up more.

  The corpse was so close to being a zombie I could taste the rising on my tongue.

  “Oh God, she wants to be alive again!” Tiff whispered in a strained voice.

  “Yes. Shh,” I said, concentrating—using every ounce of what Smith was dulling to keep from raising the girl.

  *

  The Girl's hands hurt, wrapped together, twist-ties biting into the tender flesh of her wrists, the blood throbbing above the binding. Her breath came in quick gasps, the cloth from the bag that covered her face was making her suffocate with heat. She needed to escape this place that smelled like damp earth and rotting vegetation.

  What had she done to deserve this?

  The Girl heard a door open and close, and she could feel a malicious presence above her, breathing. The need to pee burned in her bladder like low embers in a fire.

  “Please, I need to go, I need to go to the bathroom,” the Girl said.

  The cloth bag was torn off her head, and a few strands of hair came with it, the stinging of her scalp reminding her that she still lived.

  The Man wore a mask but the Female did not. She knew the man was tall but the Female was younger, with stringy, dark blond hair.

  “Take her to the bathroom.”

  The Female nodded, scurrying over to the Girl who cringed away from her.

  The Female had been the one to lure her to the man. Everyone trusted a woman. Her parents had said to never trust strangers.

  She hadn't. She knew this Female.

  The Girl looked at her with accusing eyes, burning hatred making her eyes ache with it.

  “I'm sorry,” the Female whispered, “he makes me tell him,” she said as she pulled the Girl up to a standing position. All the blood rushed to her head. She swayed, forced to lean on the traitorous Female for balance.

  The Girl struggled to the commode, emptying her bladder for a moment that lasted into eternity. Finally, she stumbled as she was simultaneously dragged to the dank mattress on the floor.

  The Girl looked at the mattress in horror, old blood and... other things smeared, splattered and in various stages of aging, covered the mattress. No part of it undefiled.

  She whipped her head back and forth.“No, no! Don't put me back on that!” she began to struggle in earnest.

  It suddenly occurred to the Girl that she would not live. That is why the Female showed her face. The Girl would die here in this cellar with the smell of slow death filling her nose.

  The Man approached her, shoving her on the bed. “Leave us!” he yelled at the Female.

  She cast one last glance at the Girl and in that moment her face was etched forever in the Girl's memory as the hands of the tall masked Man wrapped around her throat. Death hovered over nearby like a rank vapor. He pressed on her throat, saying, “Without you, there can no longer be them.”

  The Girl stared at her captor, her breath scorching her lungs, begging for release, the pressure and unbearable weight a screaming torture within her. Her vision began to narrow to a single point, the peripheral edges blurring.

  Her last conscious thought was the Female's eyes:They'd held fear. But the Girl was no longer scared, her vision going to black.

  She died. Surrounded by rage, death and decay.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Someone was shaking me.

  “Caleb! Caleb!”

  Panic, someone was panicking.

  I opened my eyes, and Smith was above me, naked relief standing on his face. “You had me scared. You and Tiff, both.”

  I stared at the clouds roll above me. The dead-techs were in a loose circle, looking down at where I lay on my back, which wasn't where I started.

  I asked the obvious, “What happened?”

  Garcia pushed his way through the techs. “What did you see?”

  Gale craned her head to look up at him, frowning. “Just a sec, Raul. Let's see if he's okay first.”

  Smith looked at Garcia. “Yeah.”

  Garcia crossed his arms. “He and the Weller girl are fine. Obviously, Smith was able to contain the corpse.”

  “It was a near thing, Raul. You know, that nut bunny teacher was right. With the two AFTDs at work, well,” Smith tore a hand through his hair, “it was a close call.”

  The dead techs looked at the three cops, shifting their weight from foot to foot.

  “Take the body,” Garcia said.

  They swooped in, loading the corpse into a black vinyl sheeting-type bag that zipped from top to bottom.

  Gale saw me looking. “Body bag.”

  Right. Great . I'd sleep better knowing that.

  She gave me a weak smile. Guess things had gotten kinda tense when Tiff and I were doing our fugue together.

  I looked to my left and met Tiff's eyes. She was flat on her back too. “Do you know her?” she asked.

  I shook my head.

  Smith sharpened right up. “Who?”

  “There's a girl that's helping the killer.”

  Smith squatted down beside me, hands clasped loosely between his thighs. “Can you tell us something about her?”

  I told them everything. How the victim had known the accomplice, had trusted her. That somehow, she had led the victim to the masked killer. His ending comment got Gale's full attention.

  “So we have some guy that—what? Thinks that getting rid of Nulls will do...”

  Tiff and I looked at each other. “I got the feeling,” she paused, staring at me, I knew what she was going to say. I'd been with the dead girl too, “that he thought that if the Nulls were gone, then it would somehow, take away the paranormals.”

  The dead techs looked up at her words then got busy carrying the girl's body, its singing presence getting fainter as she floated under the hands of the living to the hearse that waited to swallow her forever.

  ****

  I was propping a heavy head up in both hands when Mom said, “Elbows, mister.”

  I sighed. Never a break on etiquette.

  I slid my hands on my lap, resisting the urge to put my head against the wall. It just felt too heavy to sit on my neck right now.

  Mom set a plate of pot roast and mashed potatoes in front of me. For a second I thought I'd gotten away without a vegetable. Then she plopped a spoonful of disgusting peas on the side. I looked at them sitting there looking all green and healthy.

  My exhale was disgusted.

  Dad steepled his fingers, pressing his chin into the nest of them. “Okay, obviously something's bothering you. What can you tell us?”

  He smiled as Mom put his plate in front of him, fully laden with artery clogging butter, and sour cream stuffed into the center of the taters.

  Mom sat down and watched me work through spinning the condiments into a froth of deliciousness in my mashed potatoes.

  “Spill it, pal,” she said.

  Good news first. “Well. I didn't raise anything.” I took a bite of too-hot potatoes and tongue danced them.

  “Thank God,” Dad muttered.

  Mom frowned.

  “You still smell,” she wafted her hand around, “vaguely like grave.”

  Close proximity to dead bodies will do that to a person. “I'll get stuff off my chest later, Mom. Right now, I'm digesting my own spine.”

  Mom wrinkled her nose.

  Dad laughed, he could relate.

  I stuffed a hunk of meat (full of ketchup) into my craw, and chased it with milk. I did that about three more times and when the gnawing in my belly was a dull roar, I told the Parents what the deal was.

  The Hunger was abated but not satiated. I shoveled food as
I spoke.

  Dad interrupted, “So, you were able to clearly identify who was assisting this murderer, but not the killer himself?”

  I nodded, it was so frustrating. Neither Tiff or I knew the female that had lured the victim. The guy was a mystery too.

  “He was a nobody. Dark hair, tall, voice was just like everyone's.” I tensed, stabbing at my peas with the fork tines.

  “His voice? Was there a regional diction that you could ascertain?” he asked.

  I stared at Dad.

  “Does he speak like people from our area?”

  I thought about it. Yeah, he was from here. “I think so. He hardly said anything—he whispered. Like he was trying to disguise his voice. We know he's got it in for the Nulls. He's got some lame idea that if he kills all the Nulls, that somehow it'll make it tough on the paranormals.”

  I plowed another bite in, chipmunk cheek style.

  Mom's hand flew to her mouth, Dad and she exchanged a charged look.

  “What?” I muttered through the wad of food, setting my fork down on my plate, my hunger temporarily forgotten.

  Dad pushed his plate away. “I think we're talking about anarchy.”

  Okay. Whatever the hell that means? “What does it mean?”

  Mom answered, “Essentially, Caleb, if you do away with all Nulls, then who would protect us from the paranormals?”

  Ah . All the paranormal criminals would have no reason to worry, no end result. They could run around, doing all kinds of immoral shit and there would be no one to stop them.

  Sounded like John's idea. “That's sorta big. I mean, he can't kill all the Nulls!”

  Dad stared at me. “Actually, maybe there's a huge group of these—killers. After all, there isn't an inordinate amount of Nulls. Maybe the police should be looking into missing children's cases, nationwide. Possibly, the disappearances and murders aren't a local trend.”

  Wow, just wow.

  “We couldn't be figuring this out on our own, Kyle. They have people working on all this constantly. Experts.”

  “That's why I think that we may have a new idea. They are constantly chewing on this. Perhaps, with different people working together toward a common goal, but with different methodology, it hasn't been put together yet.”

  “Never underestimate zealotry,” Mom said.

  “Exactly my point. That's why when my research gets all bound up, I have a new pair of scientific eyes look at it. That fresh set can sometimes see things I don't. Maybe that's happened here.”

  “They're looking for horses,” Mom said.

  “And it's zebras,” I said.

  Dad smiled at my insight. “Right.” He pointed his finger at me, and then did the thumbs up.

  Maybe it was a gang of weirdos together. Trying to exterminate the Nulls, and let the paranormals become a threat.

  “Okay, so they kill all Nulls. Paranormals are causing trouble. So what? What purpose does that serve?”

  “Well, Caleb, who do you think would have to take care of the problem then? Do you think they would be discriminate about who was taken out of the equation or not?”

  The government . They would extinguish a threat—a national threat.

  I'm sure it was written all over my face that I realized a terrible new future where half the teens in the USA would be taken in the name of safety. Most of which would be innocent of any wrongdoing.

  Mom paled. “How could the government get away with it? There are too many people who would never stand for the sanctioned murder of our children simply because they were paranormal. My God, it's like the holocaust, Kyle.”

  His gaze stayed on hers in silent understanding. “Yes. Diabolically clever, really.”

  “They'd never get away with it Dad,” I said.

  He shrugged. “Maybe they wouldn't, ʻget away with itʼ,” Dad made airquotes, “but it would cause troubling questions to be raised, and a negative spotlight to be cast on the paranormals. Even if that bright light was not warranted.”

  We sat in silence. I picked up my fork and Onyx head-bumped my hand. He was begging for a morsel. I covertly slipped a small hunk of meat under the table as Mom was dishing up her bird portions.

  Mom changed the subject, “I hear John's birthday is coming up.”

  “Yes,” Dad clapped his hands together. “The big one-five.”

  I looked at Dad. He was so lame sometimes.

  “What?” He shrugged.

  “Honey, I don't think Caleb is thinking it's an important birthday.”

  She looked at me expectantly.

  I nodded. “Yeah, what do I get out of mine? Big deal. No voting, no driving, no emancipation.”

  The Parents headsʼ whipped up from their plates. “Gotcha,” I said, pointing a fork at them.

  “Nice, son. I thought you liked living here,” Dad said, mock angry.

  “I do. Just like jerking your chains.”

  “Humph,” Mom said, unimpressed.

  “What are you boys doing for John's birthday?” Dad asked.

  “Definitely a combo-fest,” I said.

  “Oh right. I forgot, Jonesy's is the next day,” Mom said.

  I nodded. Actually , “Ah, that reminds me, I was going to ask.” I shifted in my seat, feeling awkward. Which, of course, made the Parents stare more. “Jade's birthday is at the end of the month and I was going to get her something but—”

  “You're not sure what?” Mom asked.

  I sighed in relief. Geez. I was kinda stressed about what to get.

  “Hmm, that's interesting that there's a gaggle of your friends that have these early fall birthdays.” Dad smiled, he'd thought of something that amused him.

  Wonderful.

  “So, that makes Jade an ʻolder womanʼ.” Dad laughed at his cleverness.

  Mom didn't. “Don't joke, Kyle, it's important to get just the right gift. She's an important part of Caleb's life, and we want to get something that gives that the nod, but doesn't give her the idea they're getting married next week.”

  I felt a little light-headed when Mom said the “M” word.

  Dad looked at me in alarm. “Are you okay son, you look washed out.”

  I put my head between my knees and said, my voice muffled, “Ah, I don't-it's not...” shit , “it's not that big of a deal. Can't I just get her a stuffed animal or something?”

  “At fifteen, Son? Isn't that a trifle juvenile?” Dad asked.

  I whipped my head up and it swam, the food undulating in my stomach in a slick lump. “I don't know! It's not like I've had a harem before Jade.”

  “Okay, calm down, we'll think of something,” Mom said.

  “ I am calm , you're the one talking about weddings.”

  We sat there together as the cuckoo clock chirped six times in the background, shattering the silence.

  Dad suddenly grinned. “I like that she's older than you, Caleb.”

  Mom scowled.

  Whatever, Dad's sense of humor was totally warped sometimes. My birthday was in October, I didn't think that was that big of a difference, one month.

  “Okay.” Mom made the slice the neck gesture with her index finger.

  Dad raised his brows.

  “One thing at a time. What is happening?”

  “Well, Gramps said he'd have a party thing at his place next Friday.”

  “You know, honey. Your dad—sometimes things get a little dicey at his house,” Dad said.

  I was thinking of Hamilton showing up, and the posse that flipped us off from their car. Yeah, shit went down at Gramps , no doubt.

  Mom put her hands on her hips. Wonderful, looked like A Point would be made soon. “Pops couldn't help that horrible man showing up and threatening you.”

  Oh right, then there was that. “Maybe he could have not broke his thumb though, Mom,” I mentioned.

  “He did?” Dad asked, making the crooked mouth.

  I nodded. “Yeah, heard it in school.”

  “He could have pressed charges,” Dad said
, trying not to laugh.

  I shook my head. “No,” I said through slurping the rest of my milk. “Too embarrassed.”

  Dad nodded. “I can see that. It's not every day that a man twenty years your senior—”

  “—hands you your ass,” I finished.

  “Caleb Sebastian Hart!” Mom said.

  Cripes on a Crutch. “Sorry, Mom, but Gramps—he's got it goinʼ on.”

  She threw up her hands, totally in denial. “He was just defending his rights.”

  Ah-huh.

  Dad changed the subject, “How are your classes going?”

  Translation: are you flunking anything?

  “I'm passing, Dad.”

  He grunted.

  I thought of Smith showing up at the crime scene. I told them about that.

  “Seems like his presence was terribly out of line,” Mom said.

  Dad palmed his chin. “Let me know if there are any other details popping up with regard to Mr. Smith.”

  “Okay.” I pushed my chair back and brought the empty plate to the sink.

  “Use the...”

  “Mom! I got this.”

  Dad laughed.

  Life as Usual.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  I was stuffing all my crap in my locker when Jonesy came up behind me, “Hey.”

  I swung my head in his direction. “Hey.”

  He shuffled around looking uncomfortable. “What?” I asked him from the ground. Jonesy was never uncomfortable , something was up.

  “I don't know if my mom can come to the thing this weekend.”

  That sucked ass, she was helping my mom with The Birthday Feast. Critically important: food.

  Jonesy saw my expression. “I know dude, but she's barfing up a lung right now.”

  Huh? “Why?”

  I didn't think Jonesy could blush. “Remember, she's pregnant.”

  Oh, right. “So? What does that have to do with the food?”

  He shrugged. “I don't know, she says she can't even stand the smell of her own pee.”

  “God damn , that's a total overshare, pal.”

  “So shoot me, I'm so thrilled about it too,” he said, somewhere between pissed and mortified.

  The rest of the gang showed up and he told me with his eyes to stay silent.