The Culling (Book 2): The Hollow:

by Bell, A. C.

  The Hollow

  by A. C. Bell

  © 2019 A. C. Bell

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Gone

  An array of pinks and purples lit the stratosphere above the horizon, melding with the rich darkening blue of the sky overhead. Stars were already sparkling by the dozens with no city light pollution to obstruct them. Snowfall had encrusted a layer of white cotton over the forest and glittered at my feet in the moonlight. The enchanting beauty of the scene was not lost on me, but I was not in the emotional state to appreciate it. Two streaks of neglected tears had crystallized on my cheeks in the dropping temperature. I shivered and wrapped my arms around my knees for warmth.

  Dad’s cabin sat thirty feet behind me. I had occupied this spot frequently in the eight weeks since I’d been abducted by a troubled sorcerer. Ian Brackett had followed in the footsteps of his bigoted father and had taken me with plans of “curing” me of my newly discovered dhampir blood with an experimental serum. But Ian had recruited a dangerous source of help to secure the success of the kidnapping and in the process of rescuing me, my good friend Peter had gone missing. I was far enough from the edge of the drop off that I wouldn’t slip and fall, even with the steady decline of the hill, but close enough to see the glossy surface of a strand of Vermont’s Otter Creek below; Close enough to see the spot where Peter had climbed from its frozen depths to the other bank and vanished into the black woods, peeling off his shirt so he could transform into a wolf.

  The memory of Peter being pulled over the edge by Gabriel and down into the black water still haunted my sleep. No matter how I tried, I could think of no reason why Peter wouldn’t have come home or contacted us in some way after all this time. If he was alright, why would he stay away? But I couldn’t give up on him, either. My frame of reference with the supernatural was basically non-existent, but even though Gabriel was a terrifying cynocephalus—usually shortened to cynephi in the supernatural community—that didn’t mean Peter couldn’t beat him. One of these days, he would emerge from those trees with a broad grin, happy to be back home. He had to.

  I didn’t jump when footsteps crunched through the snow behind me. Moments later a water-resistant wool-lined blanket was draped over my shoulders to protect me from the crisp December air. Raiden lowered himself to the ground at my side. His dark umber hair was neatly groomed, as always, and the moonlight almost seemed to set his skin aglow in stark contrast. Unlike his usual wardrobe, comprised of slacks and button-up shirts, he wore jeans and a regular t-shirt beneath his coat. His thin lips were pulled together in concern.

  “Nikki told me I might find you here,” he said softly. I clenched the blanket in my fingers and pulled it tight around myself. “Please say something. Let me help.”

  “Thank you for coming to check on me,” I said evasively.

  Raiden wrapped an arm around my shoulders and I rested my head on his shoulder. “Of course.” His whisper was so faint that it almost sounded like the breeze, even with him so close.

  I took comfort in his presence and the warmth of his essence. We sat like that for a long while. I even started to drift to sleep as the moon rose higher.

  The glint of two orbs reflecting the moonlight caught my eye across the river. I straightened, fighting my drowsiness off. Could it be? No. His eyes only glinted when he was a wolf and these eyes were far too high off the ground for that. A cold chill traced my spine made me tense. The creature was blending in so well that I almost didn’t see it. It appeared male, but I wouldn’t categorize it as human. Dark hair contrasted with its lifeless grey skin. It was watching us.

  “Raiden, what’s that?”

  “What?”

  He followed my gaze and opened his mouth to answer, but something wretched him from the ground hard. I spun to see him roll across the ground, leaving dark stripes where his body scraped the snow away. An instant later, something cold grasped my throat and dragged me to my feet. I couldn’t find the air to scream in surprise, it squeezed so tight. It hauled me backward and my back slammed violently into the trunk of a tree. The adrenaline now flooding my veins made me shaky, but also activated the supernatural strength my dhampir blood gave me. I tried to pull the hand from my throat, but the hand was frighteningly strong.

  The woman glaring down at me—and I’m 5’8’’, so that doesn’t happen often unless a woman is in heels—was at least six feet tall. Her irises were such a light shade of pink that at first, I mistook them for white and her hair was dark like the male’s. Dark grey veins streaked her pale grey skin like vines of ink and the creases of her lips were blackened. Her lips curled back in a hateful snarl, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth protruding from grey gums.

  “Viesci,” she spat.

  Spots started to obstruct my vision. I forced as much strength as I could into my fist and struck her in the jaw. The blow seemed to surprise her more than anything, but her grip loosened. I thrust my palm up into her nose which managed to make her stumble back a few steps, but she wasn’t far enough away to be safe. Despite my instinct to fight, a stronger instinct told me not to get any closer to her. I was outmatched.

  Raiden darted behind her as she took a step toward me and wrapped his arms around her. A golden aura started to pass from her to Raiden and her muscles started to relax. As the light dimmed, her knees started to tremble as if she were having trouble finding the strength to stay upright.

  Rage contorted her face. She pried his arms off of her and turned. She threw her hand into his abdomen with such force that he flew several feet to the right, landing poorly on the ground again. She gave her head a violent shake as if to shake dizziness away. Her white irises turned on me. At least, until a deafening sound cracked the air and a blast of energy hit her full-on, a brilliant beam of golden energy. The blow sent her flying back. She hit the ground with a weighted thud and left a deep imprint in the snow and dirt. She was heavy. Way heavier than made sense even at her height. Before she could catch herself, she slid to the edge and tumbled over, gravity and the snow working against her hefty density.

  Mouth agape and mind stalled, I looked to find Raiden, the only source it could have come from. He was leaning against a nearby aspen for support, his hand still outstretched toward the beast. But she had also dealt him a devastating blow and he gripped his ribs, face contorted in pain. He was trembling with exhaustion.

  “Adeline, I can’t...”

  I barely heard him speak. Raiden fell to a knee and I bolted to help him but I didn’t get to him before he fell forward into the snow.

  “Please be okay,” I pleaded as I knelt beside him.

  His face was still when I rolled him over, unconscious. There was no point in checking his pulse since lamia didn’t have one and I didn’t have time to think about what to do. Instead, I wrapped his arm over my shoulders and used my strength to lift him and carried him quickly around the house. My fingers trembled when I plucked my keys from my pocket and I lay Raiden as carefully as I could in the back seat of my 1966 Dodge Charger, Farrah. I think I bonked his head once.

  “I’m sorry, I'm sorry, I’m sorry,” I muttered as I folded his legs inside.

  I continued to apologize as I shut the door and bolted around to the driver’s side. He wasn't awake yet. That was dangerous, I knew. Did the beam of energy have to do with his unconsciousness? We were screeching down the dirt driveway when a da
rk shadow bolted around the side of the house.

  Panic quickened my breath. The unnatural weight the male likely shared with his feminine counterpart seemed to mean nothing as he launched across the grass at an unnatural speed. Before the tree line blocked my view as I pulled out the dirt driveway, I caught a brief glimpse of the female in hot pursuit as well. I revved loudly and sped down the dirt road, loose rocks pelting Farrah’s underside. A cloud of snow followed behind me but I didn’t trust it to slow them down.

  A mile later, when I reached the paved road, Farrah squealed a complaint as I made a hard left into the proper lane without slowing down. The back tires drifted dangerously, but I didn’t slow down. I waited in anticipation for them to appear again in my rearview mirror. Sure enough, he emerged from the cloud moments later with her at his side, but I was already fifty yards away and getting farther. I kept the rearview mirror angled so I could see them, just in case, but they seemed to have abandoned the chase. I continued to ignore the speed limit anyway. Only once I was certain we had left the horrors far behind did I slow enough to risk a glance at Raiden, still out cold on the back seat. I picked up speed again, racing for Renenet’s Manor.

  ***

  Renenet’s Manor was a government-funded safe haven for supernatural beings who passed through the area. It served as a sort of incentive for them to keep to themselves. Better to keep them tucked away from the rest of the world than deal with the hassle or panic if they were revealed to the public. Of course, there were worse places one could be tucked into than a gorgeous estate and a property that spanned 27,000 feet. And the house. Renenet and her husband Hemway ran the gorgeous three-story mansion as an Inn of sorts. It was the kind of mansion I would have mistakenly called a castle as a little girl.

  But the beauty of the place didn’t matter right now. I veered quickly down the winding mile-long stone driveway which now felt ridiculously long. I pulled right up to the steps of the house and jumped out. Since I was prepared for his weight this time, Raiden didn’t seem so heavy when I pulled him from the back seat. My Splinter Skill was revved up high. Up the dozen steps, I rang the doorbell loudly. The lovely chiming inside did not match the situation and I actually rang again a few times so they would know it was urgent. As I waited, I gently shook Raiden in an attempt to wake him. No luck.

  Two agonizing minutes later, Renenet pulled the door open. The confusion in her beige features turned to worry when she noticed Raiden slumped at my side. “What happened?” She asked, moving aside so I could pull him inside.

  “We were attacked,” was all I could think to say since I had no clue what those things had been.

  Once the door was shut, Renenet moved to Raiden’s other side to help me carry him to the infirmary. We laid him out on a hospital bed.

  “I’ll bring Hem,” she said as she flurried from the room.

  I sat uselessly on a stool beside the bed and watched his chest heave up and down unevenly as he breathed. That was at least a good sign, I supposed, but the wheezing sound wasn’t. I watched his nostrils flare and deflate, counting each time until Renenet and Hemway finally hurried into the room. The tight black curls of his hair were a little longer since the last time I’d seen him. Perhaps letting it grow from the military cut he had previously kept was a sign that his OCD was getting better now that he wasn’t a military medic anymore. Hemway was pulling blue medical gloves on and half-ran around the table to Raiden’s side. He opened one of the many supply cabinets and retrieved a very large needle.

  “How much energy did he use?” Hemway asked in his deep British accent.

  I moved away from the bed to give them room. “A lot,” I managed to push through my lips.

  Renenet had tied her silky black hair back and helped her husband by tying a rubber strip around Raiden’s arm so the veins would pop. Hemway pulled a bottle of something from another cabinet and drew some into the syringe.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Adrenaline. Not ideal, but it’s the only way to wake him right now if he used too much.” Hemway slid the needle into Raiden’s arm. There was no reaction at first, but then his breathing quickened. He sprung awake and tried to jolt upright. The Adrenaline put him into fight-or-flight mode: eyes wild, breathing rapid, body tense. Hemway held his shoulders to keep him down.

  “It’s alright, Raiden,” he assured.

  Raiden’s breathing slowed a little as he analyzed his surroundings. His green eyes found me and he settled breathlessly back against the cotton blanket. “How did we get here?” he asked confusedly.

  “I carried you to the car,” I said.

  He smiled at the image and a laugh bubbling up, but then he winced and grabbed his ribs.

  “What attacked you?” Hemway asked. “Do I need to use an antivenom?”

  Raiden shook his head, brows pulled together in a muddled expression. “I don’t know. I have no idea.”

  Hemway looked surprised for a moment but recomposed himself quickly. The wheezing in his lungs was getting worse and Hemway pressed a stethoscope to Raiden’s chest with deep ridges of concern carved into his ebony forehead.

  “You have a punctured lung.”

  He and Renenet helped Raiden out of his coat and then Hemway cut Raiden’s shirt off with a pair of shears. Luckily, they were all too preoccupied to notice the pink rising in my cheeks. I sternly scolded myself. This was so not the time. I blamed Wyatt Parker, of course. Before his visit during Fall Break a few months ago, I had never thought of Raiden this way. To avoid staring at him I watched Hemway work. Raiden gasped and winced when Hemway barely pressed his fingers next to his sternum and a deep frown etched into Hemway’s features.

  “Three broken ribs. I believe only one puncture point in your lung. I need to begin right away.”

  “Wait. Adeline.”

  Raiden looked around Renenet to me and gestured for me to come forward. I did, but Renenet swatted his hand when Raiden reached for me.

  “No, you don’t have enough energy,” She scolded him sternly.

  Raiden glared up at her stubbornly. “I took some from the beast.”

  “And then passed out from using too much of it,” she argued intuitively.

  “Adeline seems fine, so it can wait,” Hemway agreed.

  “What can wait? What’s going on?” I asked.

  Hemway’s dark irises flitted over to me. “He wants to heal you with the energy he absorbed.”

  I gaped down at Raiden and he looked away sheepishly. So not only could he steal energy and shoot it back, he could heal people? Was he a dhampir? And if he was a dhampir then why hadn’t he told me before? It could have only helped. Especially if it meant he could heal people. Part of me was touched by the fact that, even though Raiden lay there in pain, having difficulty just breathing, he wanted to heal my superficial bruises. The rest of me was confused and, what, overwhelmed? A little angry, even, because he had lied.

  “Why can’t he use it on himself?”

  “It doesn’t work that way.”

  Hemway faced the bed again holding a small bottle and a syringe. My body froze and I could do nothing but stare at the glinting silver needle, suddenly being brought back to being injected with Ian’s “cure” and more importantly the ripping agony that had followed. All of a sudden, I was back in that cabin, afraid and helpless. Warm fingers touched mine and pulled my attention to Raiden. The concern in his chartreuse eyes was comforting but I felt too raw. Too much. My fingers felt cold when I pulled them away.

  “I’m sorry, I have to go,” I muttered retreating from the room.

  “Adeline, wait, I can explain,” Raiden pleaded after me.

  “Explain later,” I heard Hemway say before I shut the door.

  ***

  Luckily, Mom was asleep when I got home. Since winter break had started, I’d reclaimed my old room. I wasn’t sure what I would do about housing since I would be starting at the police academy in Spring. Perhaps I could find a few roommates to rent an apartment wit
h by then.

  I tiptoed up to my room and pulled my shoes off with my toes, not bothering to change into sleepwear. After making sure my bedroom door and window were both securely locked and the new blackout curtains I’d bought were shut tight, I crawled onto the futon mattress that was tucked securely on the floor between my twin-sized bed and the wall. I lay with my back pressed against the wall so I could keep watch on the door under the bed and willed my brain to give me uninterrupted sleep. Instead, I awoke several times from dreams of the monsters. Part of me was grateful that at least they weren’t about Ian or Peter as they often were.

  A few hours later my alarm clock reminded me loudly that I had to be back up for work at the bowling alley. I arose groggy and cranky and when I clomped over to the dresser to shut the thing up, I hit the stupid thing so hard that the plastic crunched under my palm and one of the broken edges stabbed into my hand. I pulled it away with an angry snarl and stomped to the bathroom for the first aid kit. I glared down at the puncture wound as I rinsed it in the sink and scrubbed it clean with malice. My mood was too foul for me to care that it hurt.

  By the time I got to work, I was not in the mental state to deal with people. I should have called in, I knew. I’d been getting in trouble lately for being short with rude customers. But I also knew that if I was at home, Raiden, Slade or Nikki would stop by to talk and I really didn’t want to talk.

  My anger toward Raiden was undeserved. I wasn’t oblivious to that. He wouldn’t have lied without good reason, just like Slade had kept his Viesci past to himself to escape whatever horror had happened to his people. No, I didn’t need to be angry. Ever since the abduction, it had been getting easier and easier for things to set me off.

  A rise in temper could be some kind of symptom of trauma, I suppose, but part of me was afraid that it was more than that. What if whatever Ian had injected me with had left some sort of side effect that had screwed up my hormones? What if it was worse? Ian had been adamant that dhampirs were dangerous. What if he was right? What if, now that my dhampir blood was ‘waking up’, this was just becoming normal for me? I needed to stop thinking so much. I was only making it worse. Either way, I wanted to give myself time to cool off and return to a normal state of mind before I spoke with Raiden again.