The Culling (Book 2): The Hollow:

by Bell, A. C.

  Her gaze flitted to the floor and she chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I’ll think about it. For now, I’m gonna give Rigby a piece of my mind.” As much as I would have loved to see her take a chunk out of the prick’s hide, I needed to uphold my promise to Slade.

  ***

  I filled my lungs with air and forced myself to open the door. A greeting was ready on my lips, but I instead found the room empty. Perhaps Raiden was in the bathroom. Being up and about was a good sign. I sat on the bed to wait for him and idly toyed with the bandage on my left hand. I would need to remember to get a new alarm clock. And get a handle on my temper; I definitely needed to get that in check.

  “I’m not a dhampir,” came a voice from the doorway.

  Raiden was leaning on the frame. His hair was wet and a dark blue towel was draped over his shoulder. He was dressed casually again, clad in blue jeans and a faded Metallica t-shirt that was spotted about the shoulders by drops of water that fell from his hair. Until seeing him, I hadn’t realized just how worried I’d been. My throat tightened. I tucked my hair behind my ear and propped my feet up on the bed frame so I could set my arms on my knees. He shifted uncomfortably and then winced as the movement hurt his ribs.

  “I know that’s how it looks, but I’m not.”

  “Are you okay?” I asked barely above a whisper.

  The anxiety in his features eased into warmth. “Yes, I’m okay. Hemway can’t treat me with anything magical, but alchemy and regular medicine do the trick. I’m not 100 percent, but I’m better. Like any other vampire, I’ll heal just fine.”

  “So, you are some kind of vampire?” I asked.

  “A moroi, an energy vampire.” He rubbed the back of his head and shuffled to the bed to sit beside me, carefully so as not to aggravate his ribs. He took hold of my left hand and pressed my fingers to his wrist. My breath caught. He had a pulse. “Basically, I’m a living vampire.”

  “Why lie about it?”

  “Even in our world, what I’m able to do is...unique. There have only been a few other moroi in history. I don’t even know how I ended up this way. My sister is a lamia like the men who attacked our farm, but for some reason, the virus affected me differently. As of now, there are only six people who know. Once I absorb the energy, I can either expel it in a forceful blast or…”

  As he spoke, he unwrapped the gauze from my palm. His hands were remarkably warm and I ignored the flutter in my stomach when his thumb stroked my skin around the puncture wound. A golden aura passed from his hands to mine. Almost instantly the wound got warm and started to itch and tingle. I could feel the tissue and skin begin to weave back together and the swelling went down. It was an unsettling sensation, but when it finished my palm was whole again. Raiden let go and I opened and closed my fingers a few times while the tingling subsided, as if it had fallen asleep.

  Raiden then brushed my hair out of the way to look at the bruises the creature had left on my neck the other night. Even knowing what he was doing, the butterflies in my stomach quickened their flurry when his fingers grazed my neck below my ear. The combination of his shampoo and aftershave smelled good, like cedar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and a tickle of green apple. I mentally scolded myself and looked away and distracted myself by asking questions.

  “Other than turning into a Super Saiyan and being able to heal people, what makes you different than a lamia?” The bruises on my neck started to heal and the tingling tickled. I stopped myself from giggling. No giggling.

  “Well, since I can make my own blood, I don’t need to consume any. I also don’t have a problem with inorganic food. No fangs, either, since I don’t need them.”

  I snickered. “So basically, you have nothing in common with them except that you live forever.”

  He breathed a laugh. “Yeah, basically,” he said. Now that I was all better, he dropped his hand. A cold draft took the place of his warmth.

  “Is the energy something you need to take?”

  He dipped his head guiltily. “Yeah. I tried starving myself of it when I was young, but after a few months of not taking any, I lost consciousness. My body instinctively took energy from the first person who found me. The man almost didn’t wake up. Now, the most I ever take from one person is only enough to make them drowsy. It usually takes about twelve to replenish my reserve and I only need to do it every couple of weeks if I eat regularly. Any longer and I start to get crabby and lethargic, the way someone with a coffee addiction would if they didn’t get their fix.” He gave me a pointed look and I gave his shoulder a little shove without thinking.

  “Shut up, I haven’t even had any today,” I complained.

  He laughed jovially but my shove made him stumble over and he braced himself with his elbow. He winced and grabbed his ribs and horror gripped me.

  “I’m sorry!”

  He shook his head, still grinning. “Having a good broken bone or two every once in a while keeps you young.”

  I laughed and he accepted my hand so I could help him sit back up. “I really don’t think that’s true. Thank you for what you did, trying to stop whatever that thing was.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Raiden’s chartreuse gaze lingered on me and I glanced down at my knees. He chuckled. “So, in the nature of being honest, I should tell you; Raiden isn’t my actual name.”

  A scoffing laugh escaped me. “What?! I haven’t even been calling you by your real name?”

  He grinned. “Every twenty years or so I have to get a new identity from the SAU or people start wondering why I’m not getting any older.”

  “What was your name then? Wait, let me guess!” I leaned on my knees again and chewed on the tip of my thumb in thought. “Let’s hit the clichés first. Blaine?” He shook his head with a frown. “Hunter?” It turned into a grimace. “Rider?”

  “No, my name isn’t anything that would be associated with a teenage ‘bad boy’. Move on. Nothing from ‘The Princess Bride’, either.”

  “Come on, that’s a great movie!” I elbowed his arm lightly and he chortled. “You’re just jealous of Westley’s hair, aren’t you?”

  “Are you done guessing?”

  “Yeah, I just wanted to pick fun at you.” I rested my chin in my palm and let him go on.

  He chuckled again and he rested his elbows on his knees the way I was. “It’s Christopher.”

  “Christopher,” I said with a small nod. “Old school. Classy. I think I’ll still call you ‘Raiden’, though.”

  “That’s fine,” he said with a smile.

  It was then that I realized how close we were sitting to each other, arms touching, faces near. The scent of his shampoo and aftershave tickled my nose again. My pulse quickened and nerves flurried in my stomach but slowed when he slid from the mattress.

  “Have you eaten?”

  “Actually, no.”

  A grin played with his lips and he tucked his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans. “I think it’s time to introduce you to Renenet’s free continental breakfast.”

  I’d never stayed at an inn, least of all a supernatural one. So, I had no idea what to expect when Raiden lead me to the gathering room beside the kitchens. At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, though. Nearly a dozen people lounged at tables around the room. Some were silently reading the morning paper and a group of six at the back talked quietly amongst themselves. An older couple sat by the large windows. The woman held an expensive camera, zooming in on the trees outside with her telephoto lens. Her husband at her side peered out as well and the pair discussed what wildlife they saw.

  Raiden sauntered to the buffet table where an assortment of fruits and pastries were displayed. A large bowl of batter sat beside a waffle maker. It smelled heavenly, the fresh berries and the sugary batter filling the air with a sweet aroma. I passed a woman sitting by herself. She sang quietly to herself as she picked at a bowl of fruit, a sad song about lost love that left a frown in her deep sepia features. Raiden was waiting to hand me a plate whe
n I approached.

  “Thanks,” I said. He offered a grin and began spooning batter into the waffle maker.

  At a nearby table, a bearded man in blue flannel was engrossed in the sports section of his newspaper. The spoon in his cup of coffee was stirring the liquid on its own but was slowing down as its spell wore off. When it clattered against the edge of the glass with a clink, the man lowered the paper irritably and wove his hand in a circular motion at it, muttering an incantation to recast the spell.

  I stopped staring so he wouldn’t notice but kept glancing about the room to find anything else unusual. The group at the back was deep in a conversation. They also appeared normal, but I noticed several scraggly tendrils of greenery poking between the boards of the maple flooring beneath their table. A tiny wildflower opened as one of the men laughed. A few of them had removed their shoes so they could feel the grass between their toes. These must be the dryads Renenet kept on her payroll to tend to the estate’s landscaping.

  “Renenet turned the floor below that table into a planter for them so that the grass can grow through the boards,” Raiden explained quietly so only I could hear. He set a waffle on the plate I’d forgotten I was holding. A playful smirk lit his face. “The woman with the camera is a kitsune. Few can transform into foxes these days if any, but they can still communicate with animals. Her husband is a gandharva, a nature spirit. They’re intuitive to the needs of living things. Martha and Frank run a business in Connecticut where they help people whose pets have anxiety problems.”

  “What about the other woman?” I motioned to the woman who was still singing softly.

  He began topping his waffle with whipped cream and an assortment of berries, then stepped aside so I could do the same.

  “Ines is a minstrel. People can understand them no matter what language they speak or write in.”

  “No way,” I said stupidly.

  “Way. She’s from Angola. Told me she doesn’t know any English.”

  He poured a cup of coffee for me and I nestled my plate in my right arm so I could accept the delicious elixir. When I turned to find a table, I instead found a familiar figure standing a few feet away, staring. My breath caught and my eyes widened. Only when my cup smashed into the floor did I realize I had dropped it, coffee splattering everywhere. I set my plate back on the buffet table so as not to drop it as well and looked back at Lorraine, aware that all eyes had moved to me for the ruckus.

  Her wavy black hair was braided loosely over her shoulder and she wore a long baggy white sweater and form-fitting black jeans. A pair of fluffy white slippers swaddled her feet. Her beige skin had regained its glow and her face wasn’t contorted in anger as it had been the last time I’d seen her after Gabriel had turned her into a cynocephalus. Her coffee bean eyes held fast to mine. It seemed as if neither of us would move until she suddenly rushed forward and nearly tackled me in a hug. I returned the gesture and set my chin on her shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry.” Her voice wobbled with the threat of tears.

  “I’ll get something to clean this up.” Raiden touched my elbow as he passed. I nodded tearfully around her to him.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said pulling back. She frowned apologetically down at the coffee. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “You seem like you’re doing better, or, I mean, I’m glad you’re better,” I fumbled.

  She grinned. “Thank you. You should sit and eat.” She moved around me to get a plate of her own and spooned some batter into the waffle maker. I skewered one of the strawberries on my plate with my fork and bit it in half. Her waffle cooked quickly and she prepared another. While it cooked, she heaped the first with a mound of blueberries and raspberries.

  “Two?” I questioned. In the few years I’d known her, she’d never had much of an appetite all around.

  She smiled. “Absolutely. Hemway warned me that I would get an increased appetite, but I had no idea it would be like this. Sometimes I eat five meals a day.” The second waffle finished and she placed it on top of the other, piling more berries on top before drizzling maple syrup over them. With her meal ready, she ventured to find a table. Raiden finally returned with a couple of large dish towels but he shook his head when I moved to help.

  “It’s okay, go talk to her,” he said with an encouraging smile.

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I picked up both my plate and his and followed Lorraine. She was already busy devouring her waffles at a table by the windows when I sat across from her. The snow-caked hill outside was bracingly bright. It sloped down to a line of trees standing firm like soldiers in the cold. What wildlife the couple was looking at a few tables over, I couldn’t tell.

  I returned my attention to my friend, who shoveled a forkful of skewered berries and waffle between her teeth. Anxiety dampened my appetite. Regardless of whether she had forgiven me, I hadn’t forgiven myself. If she hadn’t been trying to help me, she wouldn’t have been turned. I could blame Gabriel until judgment day, but the blame was also mine because I should have known better. As soon as I’d known what Gabriel was, I should have made her leave. Lorraine caught me watching her and shifted uncomfortably, the feet of her chair squeaking against the tile floor from the movement. I averted my gaze and sawed at my waffle with my fork.

  “I’m okay, I promise,” She said quietly. “The first month was rough, but I’m actually doing really well now.” She tipped her head to meet my downcast gaze and smiled warmly.

  I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. “Really?”

  She nodded. “Really. The transformations are, well, less painful and not as frequent. I’ve been working on them.”

  Raiden appeared at the empty chair beside mine, holding another cup of coffee. He held it out to me and when I accepted it, I gave his hand a grateful squeeze before his fingers slipped out of mine to release the cup. His smile tickled my nerves so I looked back to Lorraine as he took the seat beside me where I’d left his plate.

  “Where does your family think you are? And school, what about your classes?”

  “I asked Hemway to call both. They think I had a nervous breakdown and that he’s my doctor. It took a lot of convincing to keep my family from wanting to come see me in person. We’ve been video chatting every now and then, though. The school was willing to take the classes off my record so my GPA won’t be ruined.”

  “That was nice of them,” Raiden said.

  “Yeah,” she said with a smile.

  Finished scarfing her breakfast down, Lorraine sat back in her chair and folded her arms on top of her stomach, sighing in gluttonous euphoria. Looking at her now, after these long months, she really was okay.

  “So, that’s enough about me. How’ve you been?” She asked.

  I distracted myself by working on my waffles so I wouldn’t need to meet her eye, also aware of Raiden looking at me through the curtain of my black hair. “Things have been busy lately. Nikki’s dad actually showed up just last night. He wants to make amends,” I said. Lorraine’s brows shot up, her mouth falling agape.

  “Amends? Did they have a fight?” Raiden asked.

  “Her biological dad,” I clarified. “Anna got pregnant with Maggie at the end of high school and didn't tell Rick because he had a full-ride scholarship to a University. She met Marcus I think four years later while she was working as a waitress to support Maggie. When she found out she was pregnant with Nikki, he walked out. Rick learned about Maggie and found out Anna was pregnant again and wanted to help and after a while, they got back together.”

  “I can’t believe he just walked out like that.” Lorraine made a disgusted face and readjusted herself to cross her legs and arms in a proper huff.

  “But now Marcus says that Anna threatened to get an abortion if he didn’t leave.”

  “Is Nikki okay?” Raiden asked.

  “I think so. She’s just trying to decide whether or not to give him a chance.”

  “I think she should at least talk
to him,” He said. I met his green eyes and felt the corners of my mouth pull up into the tiniest of smiles.

  “So do I. That’s what I told her this morning.”

  “Good. I mean, I think that’ll be good for them,” he corrected himself, trying not to sound domineering.

  A loud thud banged into the table and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Lorraine’s arms were still crossed, tighter now, her features contorted into a pained grimace. Her knee must have hit the table. The way she gripped herself was like she was trying to hold herself together, retain her shape.

  “It’s okay.” Her voice was strained as she spoke through the pain.

  I sprinted around the table when it seemed she might fall out of the chair and I braced my arms around her shoulders from behind to keep her upright against the backrest. Every muscle of her body seemed to constrict and her legs lifted as though she were involuntarily clenching into the fetal position from the exertion. Raiden stood but seemed unsure of what to do.

  “I can stop it,” she reassured us as well as herself.

  “Focus on your breathing,” said a voice behind Raiden. The minstrel Ines moved around him to my side. “Just like last time. Instead of thinking about stopping the change, just listen to your breathing. Your body will remember its shape.” Ines continued to soothe Lorraine and her breathing started to ease. After another tense sixty seconds or so, her body began to relax. Only when I was sure she wouldn’t topple over did I let go. She sat forward, bracing her hands on the corners of the chair.

  “Thanks,” She said weakly to all of us.

  “Dear girl, you should rest now.” Ines touched Lorraine’s shoulder kindly and Lorraine nodded in agreement, pushing her chair back. She accepted Ines’s arm for support. The woman smiled when she met my eye. “I will help her to her room. Please, finish your breakfast.”

  “Are you sure? I really don’t mind,” I offered.

  “Neither do I.” Ines patted Lorraine’s hand.