I rounded the bend at the top of the stairs, hobbling down the hall as fast as I could, and threw open the attic door. Slow and steady footfalls thumped in pursuit of me, not deeming me worthy of a high-speed chase. Their sound was muffled as I ascended the second set of stairs, drowned out by the pink fiberglass insulation surrounding me. By the time I burst out into the musty third story, the silence was deafening. The storm was coming for me; this was merely its taunting calm.
Spinning in a dazed and frantic circle, I tried to remember what random corner we shoved grandma’s antique room divider into. It was a stunning piece, really. Comprised of four silver panels formed from individual tiles of pressed metal delicately welded together, the sections opened up accordion-style into a free-standing unit. If I could find it, I planned to bend it around the door, making a barricade they couldn’t touch without scorching themselves. Funny how the appreciation for fine home décor goes right out the window in the face of certain death.
“Sniveling human slut,” the tweaker growled from the top of the stairs. His gangly form lurked in the doorway. Black, tarry blood dripped from his chin, his broken nose flattened to his face. The skin on his forehead cracked and oozed, his skull exposed through the charred shape of my cross. “The only mercy I’ll show you is death.”
Releasing the safety, I leveled the gun and cradled it in both hands.
Prowling closer, he taunted, “You won’t do it. I could admit I plan to fuck and suck you until there’s nothing left, and you’d still be too pathetic to—”
The click of the gun’s misfire cut him off.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” His tongue clucked against the roof of his mouth, fangs flashing in the moonlight filtering in through those windows I gushed about only moments before when life made sense. “Can’t shoot it. What are you going to do now, little girl?”
“Stop!” My voice rose and fell with hiccupped sobs, tears blurring my vision. “Don’t take another step.”
“Or what?” Tipping his head, blond wisps of hair brushed his shoulder. “You’ll throw it at me?”
Finn entered the room with the Black Mamba on his arm. Their wounds had all but vanished. The blood thirsty gleam in their eyes had not.
“Jump out the window, Vinx,” Finn coached, his tone toeing the line of tender. “Try your luck with gravity. Because, if we get ahold of you … you’re already dead.”
Hands shaking, I checked the chambers. One bullet. I had one bullet to defend myself from three vampires. Spinning the chamber, I locked it into place just as my father had taught me.
“Don’t take another step,” I warned with as much conviction as I could muster, trying to line up the sight with trembling arms.
Chin to his chest, the tweaker peered up at me, his glower dripping with jolly predatory amusement. “Little pig, little pig, let me in.”
Click.
Empty chamber.
“Or, I’ll huff and I’ll puff …” His jaws snapped in my direction.
Click.
“And I’ll blow—”
BAM!
The bullet hit square in the center of his forehead, plowing him back in a fiery spray of bone and blood. He hit the arched windows in a reeling blaze, crashing through them on an expedited death march toward the ground.
For one beat of my racing heart, I stared through the shower of shattered glass into the vast nothingness of the night, shaking in stunned terror.
In the distance, sirens wailed.
The vast delight of my momentary victory met a violent end the second Finn’s fangs sank into my neck. White hot needles of pain stabbed into me, radiating through my core. I tried to cry out, only to be silenced by his rough hand clamping over my mouth. Vamps can use their saliva to dull the ache of their bite and subdue their victim. Yet Finn couldn’t be bothered with such courtesies. Weaving an arm around my waist, he pulled my body to his and buried his intrusive extensions deeper still. Blood gushed from the pinpoint wounds, streaming down my chest faster than he could lap it up.
I fought back with the effectiveness of a seal pup fending off a Great White. My clawing scrapes landed with little more than the irritation of a buzzing fly. What was left of my strength rapidly drained as my arms fell slack at my sides. I could feel myself fading, being erased from the life I once knew. Legs folding beneath me, Finn rode me to the ground, his fangs sawing through flesh to sever my artery. The side of my head bounced against the particle board floor. Having reached the limits of the human body’s pain threshold, my nervous system gifted me the void of numbness.
As Finn withdrew and repositioned himself for a fresh strike, I lolled on to my back. Stars twinkled over New Haven, coaxing me into their peaceful oblivion. Each blink grew longer, my heavy lids whispering for me to succumb to the exhaustion.
They won the day, kid. My father’s voice echoed through my mind, coaching me as he had after striking defeats in tennis tournaments or soccer games. But next time you’ll give ’em hell.
The Black Mamba’s face swam before my blurring vision. In the haze of my stupor, her features seemed flawlessly carved from impenetrable stone.
“Should we turn her?” Her voice seemed to come from miles and miles away, riding in on the night breeze to my own little island sanctuary in my mind where neither of them could hurt me.
Pulling back, Finn dropped from a crouch to his knees, the lower half of his face fully painted with my blood. “No. We were ordered to kill, not turn.”
“That’s a pity,” the viper vampress purred, kneeling opposite of him. Catching a lock of my hair, she curled it around her finger and tugged it hard enough to snap strands from my scalp. “She would have made a lovely plaything.”
Roused by their pedestaled position on the food chain, the vampires bowed their heads to feast. Each pull of their desire ushered me further into the dark abyss.
Consciousness waning, I closed my eyes and waited for death to gallop in and claim me.
Two blocks over, the southbound train whistle blew.
Chapter Three
Experiment Day 367: Effect
Apparency – Clear, understandable representation of the data.
Carter Westerly woke to a pudgy, little gremlin standing on his chest and licking his face. Ears forever perked with interest, the ebony fur-ball tilted his head and greeted our guest with a welcoming yip. His entire backside wagged in delight.
“Hello there,” Carter rasped to his new friend, scratching the French Bulldog behind the ears while his own heavy lids fell shut again.
“That’s Batdog,” I offered from my cross-legged perch on the window seat. Balancing a plate on the palm of one hand, I expertly maneuvered a set of chopsticks with the other. I pinched a strip of thinly sliced raw tenderloin, dropped it on my tongue, and made yummy noises while I happily chewed.
Much to Batdog’s disappointment, Carter rolled to the side and pushed himself up on one elbow. My poor pooch was left with no choice but to leap to the floor before getting squished. He punctuated his discontent with a potent and lingering dog fart.
“Where’s Harper? Is my family safe?” Carter demanded, lip twitching back in an agitated sneer.
“Who?”
“Harper, my niece you threatened so I would submit and bow to you,” he hissed.
Feeling my eyes widen, I blinked rapidly to maintain my cool façade. The majority of the night before was a blur to me … however, seeing as it resulted in the desired outcome, I was trying not to overthink the how or why. “She’s fine. I never intended to harm any member of your family. Just wanted to put on a convincing show for the crowd.” The lie flowed smoothly, made more believable by my silent vow to check on the status of this niece of his the first chance I got.
Dragging a hand over the rough stubble of his chin, Carter scanned his surroundings. Whatever he was anticipating waking up to, I highly doubt it
included hardwood floors, craftsman style accents, or furniture that enveloped you like a cloud of comfort the moment rump met cushion. Odd as it may sound, it was the same home that had once belonged to my parents. A renovation overhaul had to be completed from top to bottom before I could step into the space and not be haunted by the grisly ghosts of the past. Although freakishly morbid, my bedroom was the same room I died in. What better place to sleep than the place where I met the eternal night?
All right, maybe it’s a little creepy. Still, it worked for me.
“No one I love has been killed, and I woke up to a vampire that’s not feeding on me. Is it premature to hope you bought me as a sex slave?” Swinging his legs off the couch, Carter eased himself up to sitting. The front of his dress shirt fell open, teasing at the muscular torso beneath.
One bluish-black eyebrow lifting in mild interest, I popped another sliver of meat into my mouth. “Is that all you think you’re good for? Food or a fuck? You may have some self-esteem issues.”
“No, I just believe in playing to my strengths.” Rubbing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets to grind away the grogginess from the sedative he didn’t know he ingested, Carter paused to leer my way. “Wanna see?”
Lips screwed to the side, I considered it for about a half a second before setting my plate aside and wiping my hands on the front of my black yoga pants. “Okay,” I relented with a casual lift of my shoulder, “let’s go.”
Carter grabbed the open sides of his shirt, moving into position to shrug it off, but hesitated. “All right, but right after that you have to tell me your name.”
Sucking air through my teeth, I cringed. “Oh. You’re one of those. Sorry, I’m out. I don’t dig clingers.”
“Shame,” Carter feigned disappointment and let his hands fall to his knees. “I was about to fall in love.”
“The unrequited kind,” I mused to my plate of morsels I gathered back into my greedy hands. “Ain’t that a bitch?”
Pushing off the couch, Carter slowly prowled the room in search of some clue that would help him decipher what was going on. Batdog shadowed his every step like the noble sentry to the estate he was. “Okay, no names. How about a general observation? That was quite a performance you put on at the auction. I definitely didn’t expect to become your house guest after that. Fixture in your torture chamber of sexual deviance was more the vibe I was getting.”
Swallowing down my last bite, I gifted him with a playful wink. “Acting, my good sir. It was all part of the rescue mission.”
“Rescue?” His brows knitted together tight.
I unfolded my legs, stretching them out and wiggling my toes. “Aw, I know. No one likes to be the damsel in distress. But yeah, I totally white-knighted your ass out of there.”
“I was in … peril?” Carter’s tone lifted just enough at the end to make it a question.
“After those news broadcasts you did implicating vampires in that blonde girl’s death?” Shoving off my pillow seat, I floated up onto my toes and stretched my arms wide over my head. “You might as well have tattooed ‘Bite me, asshole’ on your neck. Although, if you do decide to do that, make sure the punctuation is right. One missing comma, and you come across as a pervert.”
Turning in an abrupt about-face, Carter’s arms fell to his sides, his shoulders sagging. “I consider myself a reasonably astute fella, but I have no idea what the hell is going on right now.”
“You’re overwhelmed with gratitude.” I shrugged, the wide-neck of my oversized sweatshirt slipping off one shoulder. “It happens.”
The lock of the front door clicked open, sending a soft night breeze tossing through the room. Micah Walker stepped into the foyer with an exhausted sigh. Dropping her satchel on the side table, she kicked off her hideous orthopedic shoes and strode into the living room we occupied still clad in her lab coat and scrubs.
Gaze flicking from me, to Carter, and back again, she wilted me with her glare. “You were supposed to wait for me. We agreed to talk to him together in case he freaked out. I thought after your little performance at the auction we agreed a more planned approach was necessary.”
“I was going to freak out?”
“It was possible.” Purposely avoiding Micah’s judgmental glower, I chose to address Carter instead. “If you did, I had this move prepared to subdue you with a chopstick. It was going to be sweet.”
One corner of his mouth tugged back in a half-grin. “I’m sorry to ruin your fun with my calm bewilderment.”
“Ah, there’s still time,” I mused. Unable to prolong the wrath of Mics a moment longer, I met her stare head on. “I told you, I’m sorry about the auction. I truly don’t know what came over me. Maybe it’s a side effect of being dead. Even so, we achieved our goal, so I say we count it in the win column.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, the corners of her mouth tugged into a frown. “His niece is fine, by the way. I checked.”
Carter cleared his throat in a subtle reminder of my earlier declaration of the same.
“Now you have proof,” I countered. “You were going to take the word of a dead chick? Damn, dude, babies born yesterday are marveling at your gullibility.” Craning to see past Mics, I rerouted the conversation by sniffing the air. “Any chance you hit the butcher shop on the way home? I’m still starving. I mean, I’m not partial to the taste of human, but you two are starting to smell like a burger and fries.”
Pursing her lips, Micah rolled her russet eyes. In another world, she could have been a Rastafarian goddess with her waist-length dreads, caramel complexion, and exotically beautiful features. In this one, she was a lab rat who had even less of a life than I did.
Get it? Because, technically, I’m dead. There’s a little afterlife humor for ya, folks! What fun is being dead if you can’t joke about it?
“If there’s one thing you should know about Vinx, it’s that she’s a slave to her appetites. Hunger being the most prevalent and pushy one.” Shrugging off her lab coat, she tossed it over the back of the gray and white striped over-stuffed arm chair.
“Beautiful and lacking inhibitions? I died at that auction, didn’t I? This is Heaven.” The moment the words slipped from his mouth, Carter held up a hand to halt us. “You know what? Don’t tell me. Just let me have this.”
Distracted from their banter by the hunger burning through my veins, I fixed my penetrating stare on Micah. She folded under it with a groan. “There’s a bag in the hall. Steaks and a gallon of pig’s blood. I hope it’s fatty and goes straight to your ass.”
“Me too! I’d be hot as hell with a thick J-Lo bootie.” Arching my back to stick out my flat, white-girl butt, I sashayed toward the foyer to claim my second dinner.
“Carter, it’s nice to meet you in person after all this time.” Micah playfully swatted at me as I passed. “I apologize for my colleague. It seems a lack of couth is a side effect of the serum.”
Eyes narrowing, Carter offered Micah his hand. “Your voice is familiar, but I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”
“I’m Micah Walker, from the Yale Institute, Mr. Westerly. We’ve spoken on the phone several times.” Taking his hand in hers, the two exchanged an all-business shake.
“Micah?” Flaxen brows disappearing into his hairline, Carter’s head whipped in my direction. “Then this … she is your pseudo-vamp? She looks so … real.”
I probably should’ve been offended. Be that as it may, I had cracked open the pigs blood a beat beforehand and was currently licking a dollop of it off my finger. It was so good; I couldn’t even pretend to care in the slightest what they were blathering about.
Cheeks reddening with pride, Micah beamed at his recollection of her accomplishment. “She is indeed. Would you like to examine her?”
The white Styrofoam container, full of nourishing slop, was halfway to my mouth when the offering up of my person gave
me pause. “Not really in the mood for a probing, if that matters to anyone.”
Ignoring my request, Micah caught his elbow and ushered Carter my way. “The news segments you’ve done on the vampire initiative have been explosive. They invited you into their fold, thinking they could entice you into running fluff pieces. Instead, you hinted at cover-ups and conspiracies. You were on the right track, Carter, and that’s why they forced you underground.”
Something flashed across Carter’s features before I could slap a label on it. Whatever it was carried twinges of guilt.
Too caught up in her own ramble to notice, Micah gushed on, “Vinx’s antics at the auction proved that your safety was of no concern to them. I believe that’s because their ultimate goal was to silence you. With us, you can get your voice back! We can expose the truth to the world!”
“What you’re suggesting is insanely dangerous.” Forehead pinched with concern, Carter’s jaw tensed. “How good is this mask of hers that you think she can pull it off?”
In a blur of speed no human eye could track, I sat down my blood—careful not to spill a drop—and lunged. Fangs lengthening from my gum-line, my forearms slammed into Carter’s chest. I curled my fingers into the fabric of his shirt and rode him to the ground. Pinning him there, the tips of my incisors pressed to the pulse point in his neck with just enough pressure to dimple the skin without breaking through.
“No, no, it’s convincing.” Carter gulped at the ceiling. “Consider me convinced, and in need of a change of pants. I do feel the need to make the counterpoint, though, that you could be a vamp with a vendetta, looking to use my connections to break into the inner circle. How do I know I’m not getting played?”
I slid my knees on either side of his hips, sat up, and peered down at him. “Put your hand on my chest.”
Without hesitation, he obliged.
“That’s my tit. I meant over my heart.”
“Your directions were unclear.” With a devilish grin crinkling the corners of his eyes, he redirected his wandering digits. After an awkward beat, Carter dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. “I … uh … gotta say, I got more out of feeling you up.”
The Veiled Series Collection Page 3
