the pounding music. As it was, I'd completely blocked out my surroundings, the lights, the music, the people. I wouldn't have noticed if World War 3 had begun around me.
I heard next words with crystal clarity, each one sounding like a pin dropping. "The human girl in the middle of it. So fragile, so…" she leant in close as she finished her sentence.
Closer than she'd been before, until her lips brushed my ear. Her breath was warm against my ear as she spoke the last word. "Breakable."
I flinched as she said it, making her laugh. I began to get up, rising off of my stool. I wanted nothing more than to get out of here, out of this club, away from the girl in front of me
who knew way too much.
I needed Ash. Not in the way I had in the past six months, as a result of my longing, or missing him so much it hurt. No, this was more of a silent desperation. I needed him to
comfort me, to protect me, to be with me.
She grabbed my wrist as I began to move away, her grip tight. "Sit down," she growled, yanking my arm towards her. I let out a shriek, as pain jolted up my arm. "Let go," I
hissed, trying to shake her off. Her vice like grip was slowly starting to cut my circulation off, and tiny pins and needles were making my arm tingle with pain.
She gave a sweet smile as people around us looked in our direction. "But you haven't even finished your drink," she said, her words dripping with a sickly sugar coated sweetness.
Her eyes were flashing with something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Whatever it was, I wanted no part of it.
"I'm not thirsty," I returned, giving her a smile of my own, although it was nowhere near as menacing as hers was. Her fingers squeezed my wrist again, causing me to yelp. I
would definitely have a bruise there tomorrow if she carried on doing that.
"You know," she began matter of factly. "You have such pretty, dainty wrists, it would be a shame if one of them was stuck in a cast. You see if you apply just the right pressure,"
she pressed her fingers against the bone, encircling it like a python. Agony soared through my hand and arm as the pressure intensified, I had to bite down on my lip to stop myself
from crying out again. The taste of copper filled my mouth as my teeth broke skin. "You can snap the bone clean in two," she finished, her dark eyes flicking up to mine.
"Now I'll ask you again. Please sit down." I sat back down on the stool.
Once I was perched firmly in place, she released her hold, and I rubbed my wrist carefully as the blood rushed back into it, making it sore. For a second I considered trying to make
another bolt for it, but doubted I'd get very far. Now that I wasn't a flight risk any more, the girl's face turned friendly again. I wanted to smack the smug smile right off of her, but
was afraid of what she might do if I did. I was a coward. Dammit! Where was Kestrel when you needed her?
"So," the girl said, leaning an elbow casually back against the bar. I was too tightly wound up with nerves to mimic her posture this time. I just had to wait until she was distracted,
and then I could make a break for it. I sat right on the edge of the stool, waiting for my chance. "Why don't you have a drink? We have so much to catch up on."
She nodded to the glass of coke that I'd barely touched. I reached out nervously, trying and failing to keep my hand from shaking. Deep breaths, MaryLynnette, I told myself,
sucking in lungfuls of air. I'd been in worse situations; I just had to calm down. If I could handle Jeremy, I could handle whoever this girl was. I knew I could.
With more confidence, I took a small sip of coke. I swore it was fizzier than usual, bubbling up in my mouth, making my tongue tingle slightly. I brushed it off, figuring it was just my nerves playing tricks on my mind.
As I looked back towards the girl, a large smile had split her face in two, showing off a perfect set of white teeth. The lack of fangs reinforced my conclusion that she wasn't a
vampire.
"Happy now?" I asked, packing as much sarcasm as I could in those two words. "Can I go now?" I knew it was a futile attempt, but I had to try any way. She held up a long figure.
"Soon," she said, the smile not leaving her face. "There are just a couple more things I need you to do." That didn't sound good at all. I glanced out of the corner of my eye towards
the dance floor, hoping one of the sisters, or maybe even Mark, would come to my rescue. I had no such luck. In fact, the mob of dancers looked thicker than it had earlier, it was
as if every single person had doubled.
I had to do a double take. There actually was two of everyone. A girl with a leather skirt that was entirely too short, was grinding against another girl in a short, sparkly, pink party
dress. Except there were two images of the girl in the skirt, and two of the girl in the dress, but the double of each other was wavering slightly, like an old television. I blinked a
couple of times, shaking my head to clear my vision. The double figures were gone, and there was now only one of each girl. Well that was strange.
Turning back to the bar, I saw that the girl was bent over her bag, retrieving a collection of objects. NOW, NOW, NOW! My mind screamed. This may be my only opportunity to run,
the only time her attention wasn't solely focused on me. But as I began to spring up, ready to take off, my vision swam. A wave of dizziness hit me like a tsunami, and I had to
cling onto the bar to stop myself from falling over.
"Yeah, I wouldn't try that if I were you. You won't get very far," the girl said, placing the last of the objects on the table. I couldn't focus on what they were; I just slumped back
onto the stool, my head in my hands.
"What, what did you do to me?" I stumbled over the words, my tongue feeling thick in my mouth. The girl giggled, twirling a lock of dark hair around her finger. "I just put a little
something in your drink," she laughed.
I could have kicked myself. Of course she'd done something to my drink, no wonder she was so adamant on me drinking it. I didn't know when she'd done it. When she'd leant in to
whisper in my ear maybe? I didn't know, but I knew that this situation was getting worse and worse by the second.
I may have been able to take on Jeremy, even when he was in his wolf form, but I hadn't been drugged at the time. How the hell was I supposed to escape now? How was I
supposed to warn the sisters, or even Ash, that this girl was looking for him? Especially as she seemed nothing but bad news.
I tried to look more closely at the stuff she'd laid out on the bar. There was a small jar of a dark green powder than was almost black, what looked like splint, the kind we'd use in
chemistry experiments, but I expected this one had a more sinister use. There was also a tiny marble effect candle, and a silver dagger, an intricate pattern carved onto the hilt.
That last one made me blanch.
She picked up the dagger and held it up to the light. The flashing streams of colour bounced off of the blade in all directions, illuminating the deadly edge. I shrank back further into my stool, shying away from the weapon. "Give me your wrist," she demanded, suddenly completely in business mode.
I cradled both of my hands to my chest, refusing to give them to her. No way was I letting her near my wrists while she was carrying that dagger around. "Are you crazy?" I
squeaked, leaning as far away from her as possible. "I am not going to let you near me with that thing," I said, nodding towards the dagger.
She spun the blade menacingly between her fingertips, as her stare intensified, focusing entirely on my eyes. I felt the urge to look away, but couldn't quite make myself. Panic
fluttered in my chest, as the blade gleamed with every rotation.
"I'll ask you again," the girl said, her voice deceptively calm. It was scarier than if she'd shouted the words at me. "Give me your wrist."
My thoughts went wild as I held my arms tighter towards my body
, shielding them. I knew that she could just grab my arm if she wanted to, cut me up and take my blood, or
whatever she wanted to do. In my condition, any fight I put up would be weak, futile, but I'd bloody well try. I was just about to tell her where she could stick her blade, in a Kestrel
worthy comment, when my mind cleared.
It was like my head had been filled with clouds, and the sun had suddenly shone through. The shrouds of cloud parted, allowing rays to penetrate, bathing me in their light.
"Give me your wrist," the girl repeated. This time, instead of shying away, I offered my wrist freely. Why wouldn't I? The girl seemed so reasonable; she only wanted my wrist, that
wasn't so bad. The dagger still looked threatening, but wielded in such wise, professional hands, it would do me no harm. I was sure of it.
The girl took my arm and pressed the edge of the blade into the pearly white skin of my wrist. I felt a sharp sting at the contact, but refrained from making a noise or pulling back.
Everything was fine.
She drew an extremely complex design into my skin with blade, it was nothing I recognised, but her focus and the way her lines were precise and practised, told me she knew the
design well. I watched in fascination as a pool of ruby red blood welled out of the veins, trickling down my hand and onto my fingers. The design looked as if it was painted in red,
it looked almost like a constellation. I had the sudden urge to giggle, as the liquid tickled my skin. What are you doing, you idiot? A voice screamed at me from the back of my mind. Get out of here before things go any further!
I flinched at the sound, although it wasn't really a sound at all. The voice was so loud, and so angry. I wanted it to go away. I began to shut it out, but stopped, replaying the words. What was going to happen to me if whatever this was carried on? Maybe the voice was right. Maybe I needed to get out.
"Now that wasn't hard, was it?" The girl cooed in a soft voice. It sounded so much more in control than the one in my head, the one filled with a wild and manic desperation. I
should listen to her; I didn't doubt it. Or did I? The wild voice stirred something inside of me, that something was wrong. It tried to trigger the natural instinct of fight or flight.
I was still pondering it as the girl turned over my wrist, letting the blood drop into the wax of the small candle. I wanted to ask what she was doing, but couldn't quite make myself
say the right words. It was as if something was creating a barrier, blocking anything I wanted to say. I didn't like it, and that earlier panic began to resurface.
My heart pounded out an unsteady rhythm as the girl lit the candle with a flick of the wrist. Somewhere in the far recesses of my mind, I realised she was a witch. The thought was
overpowered by my sense of unease. The clouds in my mind were starting to return, beginning to block out the sun. Still, a few rays managed to break through.
My blood mixed with the melting wax, as the flame danced before my eyes, mesmerising. The girl then picked up the splint, dabbing the end into the greenblack powder, until it
was coated in a thick dusting. Muttering some sort of incantation in a language I didn't recognise, she lit the powdered splint. It soared up into a multitude of different colours, even more mesmerising than the candle. The splint jumped and sparked as the girl continued her steady flow of gibberish that had a dark twist to it. I wondered how no one around us
had noticed what was going on. Surely this was a fire hazard if nothing else.
The voice in the back of my head was back, louder than ever as more of the clouds returned. WRONG, WRONG, WRONG! It chanted, screamed, begging me to listen. I almost did,
but the witch spoke up again, her blue and purple eyes meeting mine, the light off the splint reflecting in the depths of them. "Don't scream," she whispered briefly, before
continuing with her chant.
I barely had time to register what was going on before she'd set the flame to the designed wound on my arm, causing the most excruciating pain I'd felt in my life. Never before
had anything hurt so much. Every part of my being wanted to scream, to roar my lungs out until the scorch went away. But no matter how much I tried, my lips remained sealed,
holding in my torture.
I could only watch in a sick amazement as the skin around the cut blackened, while the wound itself seemed to glow a strange maroon colour. The burnt powder from the splint
buried itself into my flesh, stinging in a different way to the burning.
Finally, and abruptly, it was over. I laid, half sprawled, onto the bar, my burning arm in front of me. The pain was gone, but the trauma still lingered. I just stared, gasping at the
wound, the complex design and the blackened flesh, that was already starting to heal. I didn't know how, but I was glad. I didn't need the experience to be ingrained onto my skin
forever, as a constant reminder of the agony. I didn't even want to begin to think about what had been done, or what would happen now. I had to assume that something would
happen.
I noticed distantly that the witch had stopped her incantation, and was packing up the objects. I couldn't be bothered to lift my head, to see where she was putting them.
She stood up, brushing off imaginary dirt. "Thanks for tonight, you've been a huge help." Like I had any choice. "I'll see you soon." I honestly hoped that I'd never have to see her
face again. She sauntered off into the crowd of partiers, leaving me at the bar.
The clouds in my mind were back, but my thoughts were mine. Only now did I realise that earlier they hadn't been, otherwise I never would have offered up my wrist willingly, she
would have had to pry them away. I had to assume it was down to whatever she'd put in my drink. Some sort of compulsion.
As it was, the other effects, like the dizziness, were very much in full swing. I felt drunk. Ironic seeing as all I'd had to drink was a couple of sips of coke. The air of the club
suddenly felt stifling, the dense mass of people creating a hot and sweaty atmosphere. I couldn't breathe. Is this what Mark felt like with his asthma?
I managed to drag myself into a sitting position, and pushed myself up off the bar, the world spinning around me. I needed air, fresh air, not the muggy club air. Somehow I managed to stagger to a door, mumbling out apologies when I accidently walked in to people. Most were too drunk to care when I bashed into them, for which I was thankful.
Cold, night air hit me in a blast as I stepped outside. My first instinct was to look up towards the stars, but my vision was too blurry. Everything merged together, and a steady
darkness was beginning to creep up around the edges of my vision. How long until I blacked out all together? How long until someone found me?
I didn't hear or notice that someone was following me until I heard the door I'd just come threw slam closed. I span around, far too quickly for the state I was in. My head swam,
and I toppled sideways, grabbing hold of the wall for support.
Even in my weakened state, I could tell instantly that the man in front of me was a vampire. Even without the fangs he was currently flashing, his hungry silver eyes would have
given him away.
I chastised myself for being so stupid. I'd taken my eyes off of the vampires stalking the club, forgotten about them completely. Of course one would come out, following who they
thought was a drunken girl who could barely keep on her feet. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should have expected it.
I backed up, one hand still trailing along the wall for support, as the vampire came closer. I tried to calm my heart, knowing that the pulsing vein in my neck would only look more
appetising with every beat. But it was hard as I stared into those hungry eyes, at the muscular arms, and glistening sharp teeth. I was severely outclassed, with the wall the only
thing that was keeping me on my feet.
The darkness around the edges of my
vision was closing in, robbing me of consciousness. I had no hope of fighting, but god I had to at least try to stay awake. "Stay back," I
hissed, backing further and further into the alley. Soon I'd hit a dead end and be trapped, but I couldn't help my steady retreat as she vamp closed in.
He laughed at my weak attempt at saving myself. The sound sent chills up my spine. "Oh, how cute," he taunted, his stride lazy and arrogant. "You'll make such a tasty snack. Maybe I'll let you live so that my friends can see how adorable you are. Or maybe your blood will be so sweet that I won't be able to resist draining you all to myself."
I gulped. Not all vampires killed their prey, but apparently this one did. Just my luck. "Don't," I said feebly, holding up a hand to fend him off. "I know people. People who will kill
your sorry ass if you even lay a finger on me." It was my last attempt at survival. Maybe I couldn't fight him, but perhaps the knowledge that I knew others of his kind, would cause
him to delay killing me. Maybe even long enough that Rowan or one of the others would come and get me. I hated having to rely on others to save me, but at the moment I really
had no other choice.
My words obviously peaked an interest, as he paused midstep. "What people?" He asked, although I suspected it was more to humour me, than a sign of real curiosity. That was
good enough for me. "Redferns. Ash Redfern." I decided that Ash would be more well known and more of a threat than the sisters.
The vampire laughed again, the sound of it harsh in the chill night air. "You lie. What would a vampire like him have to do with scum like you?" I didn't say anything. I couldn't. I
couldn't tell this stranger that Ash was my soul mate, or that we were even friends, so I kept my mouth shut.
Instead of answering, I reached for the silver chord, clutching it like my last lifeline. I love you, Ash, I said down it, mentally sending as much emotion with it as I could. I had no
idea if he could hear it, we'd never sent messages down it before, not in the six months we'd been apart. Perhaps it only worked when we were near each other, and Ash could be
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