Darkness Comes This Way
Book One: Guardians of the Night
Pixie Lynn Whitfield
©Pixie Lynn Whitfield
“No notice is taken of a little evil, but when it increases it strikes the eye.”
—Aristotle
One
Rogues.
Disgusting vile creatures that Zarah is out to destroy.
The ironic thing is…she used to be one of them.
“See you tomorrow!” the young girl called out as she left the restaurant. Her feet ached from her long shift and she couldn't wait to get home to soak them. It was late and eerily silent while she walked the four blocks toward her apartment building. The moon was hidden through the growing storm clouds, and street lamps were few and far between along the jagged narrow walkways of the empty streets.
The Guardian was hidden in the shadows, watching the human, knowing from a deep sense that trouble approached and began to follow at a distance between the shadows of the looming buildings. The smell of monster was in the air. The girl was walking to her death. Leaping onto the nearest roof, the Guardian had a mission to do.
The waitress hadn’t made it a full block when noises began to sound in her ears. Deep, dark laughter suddenly surrounded her, making her heart race and her steps pick up speed. The clacking of her heels echoed off the concrete sidewalk. Her eyes darted every which way and her blonde-bobbed hair twirled around her face, but she couldn’t find the source of the noise. It had disappeared, seemingly to suck her breath away with it. When she took in a shaking lungful of air, she felt her entire body tremble.
“Just the wind,” she tried to assure herself out loud, knowing well enough that she was lying. There wasn’t any wind, and if there were, it certainly wouldn’t have sounded like that.
A low whistle sounded beside her, making her jump. She dropped her purse and the contents of it spilled out onto the walkway. Fear had consumed her enough by then that she couldn't release the scream bubbling at the base of her throat. She turned around to see a tall man leaning casually against a building wall. His head hung down and long, dark hair covered his face. A heavy leather duster jacket wrapped around him, but it did not hide his bulky, muscular frame. She was passing him, trying to avoid staring, when he finally spoke.
“It’s a dark night for such a beautiful being like yourself to be walking alone.”
The husky edge to his voice made her blood turn to ice. She froze when he stepped out, blocking the path. Fearfully, she scanned the area, hoping to see someone who could help. Something wasn't right about this strange man. Something screamed danger to her.
She didn’t see the Guardian rushing to get there before it was too late.
She glanced nervously up at him to see that he had raised his head to look at her, and it was cocked to the side as if he were a curious cat.
It was then that she saw his eyes—a bright scarlet red that showed a threatening hunger. He offered her a wicked smile, and in turn revealed a set of long, white fangs. Her eyes widened in horror and instinct kicked in, causing her legs to finally move as she tried to run from whatever he was. He was a monster from her nightmares—fairytales she was told as a child—but she wasn’t dreaming now. He was fast, and quickly snatched her by the waist before she could manage to take two full steps. His hands were large and held her in place. She was unable to get away from his bruising grasp no matter how much she struggled.
She screamed and kicked with wild fever, trying to fight the strange man’s grip, but to no avail as he raised her inches above the pavement and began to carry her backward. He pulled her toward the alley with his hand clamped hard over her mouth to silence her. Within seconds they both disappeared into the dark depths of the alleyway, leaving her spilled purse behind under the dim orange street lamp.
The creature’s heightened senses became more acute while he feasted, like that of a lion enjoying its prey but remaining aware of its surroundings. The human had been particularly tasteful, satisfying his never-ending thirst. Her life force flowed through him and he could feel his addiction being briefly fed.
His focus on the kill had distracted him because he was soon faced with a gun to his temple. The cold metal against his own dead skin gave him chills. He was weaponless and he could smell the silver bullets inside the chamber of the pistol. The click of the weapon's safety switching off echoed around the stone walls of the surrounding buildings and it made him shudder involuntarily.
He took a deep breath, allowing the scents of the night to wrap around him and wind their way up through his nostrils. Blood from his meal mixed with the light drizzle that had started. And then he smelled the presence of the being that stood beside him. It was one of them: a Guardian.
And it was the rarest one of them all: It was her.
Her unique scent of pineapples and lilies filled the air around him. A low, satisfied growl came from deep within his chest. As he stared at the brick wall in front of him with the gun still at his head, his lips curled into a smirk. He may be about to die, but she was in for something interesting in the near future herself. He didn’t have to look back at her. He wasn’t going to be like the others and try to fight. It would be no use against this Guardian. She was ruthless, and always had been. But at least he could leave her with some last surprises.
The human was already dead, still in his arms, and the creature knew he was about to join her. At least he had enjoyed a good last meal, he mused, staring down at the young waitress’ lifeless wide-brown eyes. Her mouth was set in a permanent silent scream.
“You’re next,” he rasped, speaking to his executioner behind him.
Without a word, the Guardian fired.
*****
Zarah Duncan stared down at the dead Rogue with disgust. The silver bullet was lodged in the side of his head. His body would remain there until morning, when the rising sun would turn it to ash and dust. Passing humans would just think it was a pile of street filth. If only they knew how close to the truth they were...
“Zarah?” A voice sounded through the earpiece she wore.
“Present.” The voice chuckled lightly back into her ear at her sarcastic reply.
“It’s time to get back to the Compound. The sun will be up soon.” She was ordered by the other line.
“Right away, boss. I just need to take care of a little business first.” She stared down at the corpse of the human girl. The creature would be taken care of by the sunlight, destroying that part of the evidence, but the human would not be. Zarah needed to get the body to an area where it would be easily discovered and taken to a proper place. The bite marks on the girl’s neck were barely visible, but the humans had advanced drastically over the years with science and technology in medicine. Zarah didn’t understand most of it, only they had some insane fancy machines that seemed to do some crazy readings and scans and their doctors were exceptionally more skilled during the autopsies than fifty years ago.
Silently, she knelt down and licked her fingers before placing them over the wounds. Within seconds, the saliva healed the marks, erasing the traces of what had happened. If it was one thing Vampires were good at, it was covering tracks to keep their existence a secret.
“I called and told you to get back here a little over an hour ago!” Zarah’s boss fumed when she entered the Compound, throwing her gun holster down on the nearest table and slipping out of her boots.
She looked up at him angrily and hissed, her fangs revealed in the fluorescent lights.
“I was taking care of a clean-up.” She argued. She knew he had only been worried that one of his best residents had nearly been caught out in the deadly light, but she wasn’t in a particularly good mood at the moment. E
veryone in the Compound knew not to cross her after a night out hunting until after she got her sleep. Not to add to the fact that she had lost the victim. The poor girl was probably no older than eighteen and working that job to pay for college.
“I’m sorry, Zarah. I was just worried about you, as I always am,” he replied softly, confirming her initial thoughts. She looked up at him and nodded as she continued to shed more hidden weaponry onto the table. She took a deep breath and calmed her temper; she knew she’d never be able to remain too angry at him for long. Her boss, Nathanial Bolt, had been more like a father figure to her through the years. Life had not been kind to her, but he had been.
In fact, he was the one who had saved her during that time…
“I have some news to share before you take your slumber. Please follow me to the meeting room,” Nathanial instructed, interrupting her thoughts. He always knew when she was drifting into that ugly past—and would keep her from doing so by distracting her with conversation. Unfortunately, he could only do that when he was around. When she was alone, she was left with thoughts and memories as she fought the growing insanity within her.
Silently and slowly, she followed him down the long, twisting corridors of the underground building. Her home. She watched him moving in front of her, hoping there would be an explanation along the way, but he remained quiet with his eyes ahead and a blank expression on his face. He was tall, towering above her small frame, and very slender. If one looked at him, they would think he was sickly and weak—but Zarah knew better. Nathanial held a grace about him that almost spoke of royalty. His hair was long, and a brilliant white so bright that it seemed to glow beneath the lights. His skin was just as pale, matching perfectly.
He led her through a set of double glass doors, into a room with a long black wooden table and large leather chairs. It was their meeting room, but rarely used.
“What is he doing here?” she snapped furiously when she eyed one of the Compound residents sitting in one of the chairs at the far end of the room.
“I’ve asked Draven to be here, Zarah. Calm down.” Nathanial motioned for her to take a seat. He sounded aggravated already and let out a frustrated sigh.
She sat as far as she could from the Guardian that was in the room, glancing over at him with a look of hatred. He looked at her, his periwinkle eyes dancing with humor. His dark hair was thick and shaggy, just resting slightly above his shoulders, and despite how handsome he was, Draven Kinsley had given her a hard time since she had returned. She wasn’t fond of him in the least. She assumed the feeling was mutual.
He was leaning back in the leather swivel chair, with his feet rested up on the table and his arms placed behind his head, looking well-relaxed. She furrowed her eyebrows in annoyance.
“Can we hurry this? I’m tired.” Zarah turned to Nathanial, looking bored.
“I know, so I’m going to make this short, sweet, and to the point.” Nathanial remained standing, his hands on the table, leaning over and glancing between the two of them as he spoke.
“I’ve called you both in here because there’s been an increase in activity as I’m sure you’ve noticed. I’m pairing Guardians up from now on—and the two of you will be working together.”
“You’re pairing me up with a Rogue?!” Draven jumped up, shouting furiously, his light Irish accent more noticeable through his anger. Zarah stood as well and growled in warning at him.
“I’m clean,” she hissed through her teeth. He shrugged as if he didn't care what she said and rolled his eyes.
Nathanial took his time, and watched the scene play out with interest before he interrupted.
“I’m pairing you up because you’re both the best I have. That’s final.” There was authority in his voice that wasn’t there before. Zarah’s eyes narrowed, first at Nathanial, then at Draven.
“This is a bad idea,” she argued.
“Yeah, she’ll probably turn me rabid,” Draven said with a snort. Every ounce of control that Zarah had tried to contain, snapped. With intense speed, and before Nathanial could comprehend what was happening, she ran at Draven and shoved him into the wall. He tried to block her punch, but her anger outweighed his instinct and he was too slow.
“Crazy bitch!” Draven screamed in rage after Nathanial pulled Zarah off of him.
She flipped him off in response.
“Enough!” Nathanial shouted so loud that it caused the glass room to vibrate. Passing Guardians and workers stopped to stare.
“You two will have to learn to get along!” he bellowed again, still gripping Zarah by the shoulder. No matter how frail her boss looked at times, she could feel his strength in the grasp he had on her. Draven stood. The cut on his lip already began to heal.
“I’m putting my full trust in you both to behave and try to get along enough to get the jobs done. You’re like children to me and I will not tolerate this rivalry.” Nathanial lowered his voice, releasing Zarah. He was wary, and continued watching her, remaining close to her side in case he needed to break apart another fight.
Draven glared at her silently for a few long seconds before he finally nodded in an unspoken agreement to make an effort to work with her.
Satisfied, Nathanial left the meeting room muttering under his breath.
“No turning guns on me,” Draven warned on his way out, starting to pass by her. His eyes watched her hands in precaution.
“Trust me, if I had wanted to kill you just then, I would have,” she said in a mocking tone, pulling a small pistol from behind her back. He stared at her in shock, frozen in place and didn’t say another word.
She smirked as she walked past him out of the room, heading toward her own for bed.
“Be ready at eight, Draven,” she called over her shoulder before she disappeared behind a corner.
Two
In a world where good and evil mingled, there laid another beneath it. An underground of night creatures—Vampires—of which the humans were completely oblivious to.
The humans that did come close to discovering the truth either quickly forgot from a magically induced hypnosis, or died at the hands of a blood thirsty monster.
The Vampires were divided. Rogues were often loners, rarely found living among any other rabid, and as far from socialization with each other as they could get when possible. They hid out during the daylight hours in abandoned warehouses or burrowed into the ground at old cemeteries.
There were others, too, who weren’t rabid or the fierce protecting fighters that Zarah worked with. These were the Hiders and they lived in large groups mostly, in homes, and went about life normally—sometimes pretending to be human and asked to be left alone by the Guardians. They got their blood through blood banks or volunteer donors. This was the same mannerisms in how the Guardians fed as well. Although live human feedings were rare at the Compound. This was something done only in emergency cases.
The Guardians were established over a hundred and fifty years ago to fight against the rabids. With their growing numbers through the years, more Guardians came in and trained to be on the elite team of warriors.
And then there was Zarah. Different. Unique. Unlike any of them. She was the outcast in a world full of strange creatures.
Once a vampire turned Rogue, there was no going back to the way things were. Their addiction to the blood was like a crack-addicted human to the tenth degree. It was never-ending, causing the creature to follow a life of killing for more to try and satiate their immense thirst. The being lost all intelligence and control.
Until a Guardian would seek them out to destroy.
But something was unusual about Zarah.
She had been Rogue for almost a full year until Nathanial brought her to the Compound.
Zarah went back while others hadn’t.
She’d survived, cured from the rabid state of mind...
And she didn’t know why…
Blood was everywhere. Splashed upon the walls, a dark scarlet stained the white carpet as th
e color of her destruction stood out around her. At her feet, lay three bodies. Her eyes were wild with a raging hunger she couldn’t contain…and a small, dark voice was laughing maniacally through her thoughts.
Somewhere nearby, she could faintly pick up the scent of jasmine and lily, despite the strong metallic odor that already filled her nostrils from the deaths she caused. Her eyes darted across the room to see a vase. White flowers stood out—the source of the soft floral scents that she had picked up on. But even they were stained with spots of the crimson liquid that she’d just murdered for…
And then she wept, her screams of anguish breaking the silence of the night as she collapsed on the floor to cry out her tortured mind.
Zarah awoke with an abrupt start, sitting straight up in her bed to gasp for air. The memories always haunted her, even in her dreams. Still, each time they left her feeling tormented and horrific.
It took her awhile to calm her breathing and to realize she wasn’t in that place of mind anymore. She was a Guardian again. No longer a Rogue.
She’d never be able to shake the images of things she had done though.
Looking around as she calmed herself, she was thankful to be back at the Compound in her living quarters. It was a small apartment with an open bedroom, sitting area and kitchen all in one space, and a simple bathroom with a shower stall. Nothing entirely fancy, but suitable for her nonetheless.
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