Samantha Watkins: Chronicles of an Extraordinary Ordinary Life (Samantha Watkins Series Book 1)

by Aurélie Venem

  Meanwhile, Karl managed to break a window in an effort to escape. I sped in his direction to hold him back with whatever was on hand (which was not much).

  As Phoenix finally got the upper hand over Heath and I heard the characteristic sound of bones crushing in a bare-handed decapitation, I saw Karl pull the knife out of his chest wound and brandish it with the intent to throw it at my boss while his back was turned.

  Without thinking, I threw myself into its path.

  “Phoenix!” I screamed, facing Karl and opening my arms to protect my boss.

  As he turned around, alarmed by my shout, I felt the terrible pain of the blade piercing my stomach. I cried in horror before falling to the ground. In the same moment, I heard the howl of the man I’d protected and who hadn’t had the time to do anything to help me.

  “No!”

  He raced over to me and tried to press his hands to the bloody stain that was already spreading over my clothes, but I stopped him.

  “Get him!” I shouted, pointing at the open window where Karl had fled.

  François hadn’t finished with the Chinese. Everything had happened so fast . . .

  “I will not leave you,” he said, coming closer again. I tried to push him away again. “François is busy. You’re the only one who can catch up and make him say who is really behind all this! It’s the only way to save you! Leave me!” I ended by shouting despite my suffering, because most of all, I wanted him to survive this. I felt tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t stand another second of his blue eyes staring so hard at me.

  “No.”

  Surprised, I lifted my head toward him. There was no severity in his eyes . . . just tenderness and worry. I was floored by it.

  “He can go to hell. I would rather see him leave than see you die.”

  Gently, he passed one arm around my shoulders and the other under my thigh.

  “What are you doing?” I said, astonished.

  “I have not forgotten what you said. Your wound can be healed if we hurry to a hospital.”

  His answer stunned me so much that I forgot the pain I was in and my bloody clothes. Taking advantage of my silent stupor, he lifted me in his arms and looked at François who was just finishing up with the last kidnapper.

  “Burn it all and come find me at the Scarborough manor.”

  Without waiting for him to agree, Phoenix and I took off into the skies to get me treated at one of the Kerington hospitals. Closing my eyes so I wouldn’t faint from fright, I realized that we’d made a huge leap in our investigation. We’d managed to find the kidnappers’ base and save some of their victims, including Angela. Our plan had worked since we’d discovered the identity of their leader . . . but also because the truth often hurt. Phoenix and Karl’s reunion had been memorable, and I knew that if they saw each other again, one of them would die. But which one?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Danger Settles In

  I was getting colder and colder. I’d finally opened my eyes and looked down at the city lights. Phoenix was holding me tight against him, but you couldn’t say that he was a good source of heat. I was frozen because of the loss of blood but also because of the glacial wind that was stinging me as we flew. I found the whole situation completely ridiculous, especially because sunrise was fast approaching. Unable to stand it anymore, I cried out, “Turn around!”

  I retched when we stopped between two clouds after having flown at full speed for a long time.

  “Do you feel sick?”

  Yes, I was a bit under the weather, that was for sure.

  “I want you to bring me back to Scarborough. I don’t want to go to a hospital.”

  He didn’t understand, obviously. I was going to have to be clearer.

  “It’s going to be day soon, and I don’t want to be alone in a cold and dismal hospital, with a bunch of doctors and police officers coming to harass me until I tell them who stabbed me. I want to go home.”

  It was the first time I’d ever used that word to talk about the manor. But it was indisputable that it was indeed my home.

  “I will drink.”

  He saw the determination in my eyes, and in his I saw pride. He nodded.

  “As you wish. Hold on.”

  He sped up again, but this time at a pace that wouldn’t make me feel ill . . .

  I must have lost consciousness en route, for when I woke up, François was opening the doors for us.

  “She is starting to regain consciousness.”

  Indeed, I could see the world around me again, but I felt strangely disconnected, as though I didn’t even have enough strength to keep me tethered to the present.

  “Time is of the essence,” he continued.

  Time? What did he have planned? What was of the essence? The fog threatened to seize me again, and I didn’t understand anything anymore.

  Phoenix placed me gently on the sofa, grabbing a pillow to put under my head. He’d hardly finished when he turned around and readied himself to defend me, a bestial roar coming from his throat. I only jumped, but the feminine shriek that I heard made me realize that another person was among the guests.

  “What is she doing here?”

  Phoenix growled dangerously, and I found the strength to turn my head to look at the intruder.

  “Angela?” I laughed. “You met Phoenix? When was that? Your apartment has really changed, by the way.”

  Everything got muddled up in my mind, and I was spouting nonsense. My interruption got everyone’s attention, and then François intervened: “She was waiting outside. She did not want to abandon Sam and now that she knows the truth, I thought that—”

  “It does not matter!” My boss cut him off curtly, feverishly rolling up his shirt sleeve.

  When I saw what he was doing, I smiled stupidly and exclaimed, “You have the softest skin in the world!” before bursting into giggles.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Angela worried.

  “She is delirious. It means she will die soon,” Phoenix answered, rendered aggressive by impatience.

  I reacted the moment he bit his wrist.

  “The most extraordinary man in the world . . . is also the worst at human relations.”

  I tried to laugh, but instead I was taken over by uncontrollable convulsions that would lead me into a coma and then to the gates of death. In the shadows of consciousness, I felt his hands holding me, and his voice calling out to me, “Resist, Sam. It’s not your time. I forbid you from dying. Do you hear me? Good grief! You are the most stubborn woman in the world, so respond! Drink!”

  As if by a miracle, one last flash of light shone in the darkness in which I was swimming, and I headed for it. I used it as a springboard to return to the voice of the man guiding me back to the light, and when I managed it, I felt the contact of his skin on my mouth and the blood flowing into it. I opened my lips, started to swallow the precious liquid, and heard three sighs of relief around me. I felt cold on my stomach and realized that they’d opened up my sweatshirt and lifted up my T-shirt to check to see if the wound was closing up.

  “Incredible! It’s healing her!” Angela exclaimed.

  With each swallow, I felt better, but suddenly my return to the present was stopped.

  Taken over once more by the whirlwind of sensations that was triggered by Phoenix’s blood, I opened my eyes wide and sat up. He was next to me on the sofa, and I found myself only a few inches from his face, still holding his wrist right between my lips.

  There was a huge silence when I looked at my savior—I learned the next day from Angela that my eyes had changed color. They had kept their normal black tint, but their gleam was irrefutably red, red like the blood I was greedily drinking. Phoenix shuddered and tried to pull back his arm . . . without being able to. A kind of animal growl rose from my throat in warning.

  Angela told me later that from the moment I’d sat up, I wasn’t at all myself and my strength had increased to the point of surpassing that of my boss. I had trouble believin
g it, but I had to rely on her retelling since I had no memory of any of it.

  According to her, I’d just allowed him to pull away from my mouth a little before giving him a look of burning desire, before licking his wound with a very controlled indecency and slowness. I admit that I cringed when I learned of this, especially when Angela insisted that Phoenix had flipped out. After licking his wrist, I’d lain back down but not without first rewarding my generous donor with a cheeky wink.

  This time when I opened my eyes, I was myself again . . . and I didn’t understand anything about the conversation they were having.

  “Her eyes are normal again.” François brightened up.

  “That damn mark,” railed my boss, who had a strange timbre in his voice.

  I sat up painfully and frowned at the faces that were staring at me like a circus freak.

  “Hey! I’m fine now. Stop looking at me like that.”

  Realizing how strangely they were behaving, they regained composure.

  “Angela?” I said, surprised, catching on that she should not have been there.

  She smiled. “I couldn’t stay home after François dropped me off without knowing if you were OK.”

  “You’re not going home now. Stay the night here,” I said, consulting Phoenix with a look. He stood up.

  “Very well. François will show you to your room. Besides, we shall have to have a conversation tomorrow night, so it will be best if you do not try to slip away during the day to go back to your house.”

  “Don’t worry. I owe you my life, so I can certainly wait here a little longer.”

  Phoenix nodded and signaled to François to take her away.

  When they left, I tried to get up so I could go to my room for a well-deserved rest.

  A small cry of surprise escaped me when Phoenix lifted me into his arms.

  “What the . . . ?”

  “Shh. You are still weak and you need to sleep. I shall take you to your room, and I forbid you from protesting. Tomorrow, you and I will also have a long conversation, one-on-one.”

  My heart was racing for reasons I was too exhausted to discern. I nestled against Phoenix as he carried me upstairs. He put me in the bathroom and ordered me to take a relaxing shower while he gathered my things for bedtime. That did me a world of good after all I’d gone through, and stepping out of the shower, I slipped on the pajamas he’d set on the sink. Back in my room, I was lifted by him again, into bed. By then I was feeling much better.

  As he moved to leave, I held him by the arm and kneeled on the bed to come to his height.

  “Thanks for saving my life . . . again,” I murmured.

  A bit hesitant, I leaned toward him and kissed him on the cheek before smiling warmly. Not expecting any return gesture, I was going to get under the blankets when his hand grabbed my arm and urged me to straighten up again. His impenetrable face wouldn’t let me guess his intentions, but I held his gaze. Then it was his turn to hesitate, though he ended up leaning down and giving me a soft kiss on my cheek.

  He wished me good night and left me alone and confused, my hand on the place where his lips had burned me.

  “I did what?”

  I was mortified by Angela’s tale of my behavior from the night before. She chuckled, which intensified my feeling of shame.

  We’d met in the garden that afternoon so we could talk about everything. We were settled on a blanket, a pitcher of lemonade and a selection of Ginger’s candy for snacks. I was happy to have found such a friend, for she understood the reasons that had pushed me to lie to her. She was still in shock about what she’d gone through the night before, but she was a strong woman and would recover. She understood the extreme importance of keeping the secret of the existence of vampires. For a long time she’d loved stories people told about them, even if she wouldn’t have ever thought that they were true, so she was taking this all rather well. She also spoke quite a bit with François.

  What had they talked about? She preferred to keep it to herself . . . but seeing her smile, I suspected that it had touched her heart . . . She was brimming with joy, which was made clear to me that very moment as she laughed at my stunned expression.

  “You’re not yourself. François told me that it must be because of the mark. Phoenix’s blood went straight to your head and you were drunk.”

  I’d already heard that part . . . I shuddered. “What were you all talking about, about my eyes? Why were you all looking at me like I was some sort of freak phenomenon?”

  She stopped laughing. “Now that, that was really weird. The worst part is that Phoenix and François weren’t expecting it at all, and that really freaked them out. That’s why Phoenix tried to pull his wrist away . . . You should have seen his face when you stopped him with your strength . . .”

  “The mark must be more significant than they thought,” I tried to reassure myself.

  But a small voice in my head was desperately trying to tell me that none of it had anything to do with the mark.

  “Well, that was nothing compared to when you licked his wrist while looking at him as though you were going to rip his clothes off . . .”

  She burst out laughing at my horrified expression. I put my head between my hands.

  “Good grief! What on earth is he going to think of me?”

  “You weren’t yourself, Sam. He knows that.”

  I was biting my nails so voraciously that she started patting my back in an attempt to alleviate my anxiety.

  “But seriously, Sam, is there something going on between you?”

  In a flash, I saw him lean down and felt my cheek redden at the memory of the contact it made with his lips.

  “You’re blushing. Have I put my finger on something?”

  I threw a murderous look in her direction.

  “No, but you and François . . . same thing, right? How many times am I going to have to tell you? I’m not going to carry around a sign with ‘I’m not in love with my long-toothed boss’ written in fiery letters. Pay attention to your own love story with your French vampire and leave me alone, both of you!”

  I caught my breath, already regretting getting so annoyed . . .

  “If you’re reacting like this, it’s because I’m not wrong.”

  . . . and I was right to be annoyed.

  “Everything is clear between us. When I told him about François’s suspicions, which are the same as yours, he found the idea utterly absurd, just like me. So go ahead and live in your fantasy world, but don’t meddle in all this.”

  This discussion had turned sour, and I didn’t want to be disagreeable with my friend anymore.

  “I’m tired again. I’m going to go rest.”

  I went back inside and up to my room, and I fell into a restful sleep not a second after my head hit my pillow.

  I am behind the bars of a prison cell . . . I am wondering what is going to happen to me when someone enters. Karl. He looks at me with such hatred that I back up against the wall, trembling.

  “This time, he is not here to save you,” Karl says.

  His horrible smile appears, and a second later, he is on me. Despite my attempts to escape, I can only scream as I feel his fangs in my throat and my life flowing away from me . . .

  “Sam! Wake up! It is just a dream!”

  I was barely opening my eyes and still struggling when I realized that I was safe in my room with Phoenix, who was holding my hand. My heart was threatening to beat right out of the chest in its panic, so I had some difficulty catching my breath.

  “I thought that . . . I thought he . . . was killing me . . . ,” I managed to say.

  “Everything is fine. It was only a nightmare. I heard you shouting.”

  I sat up, rubbing my eyes to get rid of the last mists of sleep.

  “What time is it? Where is Angela? I left her by herself.”

  “It is ten o’clock. François drove her home. She said that you got into a fight, and she felt bad about making you uncomfortable.”


  I stiffened. Did he know why?

  “Let’s just say I was tired and I got worked up needlessly.”

  “It does not matter. I would like to talk to you, now that we are alone.”

  I got immediately worried . . . Phoenix took my hand again, and I felt a curious electric charge at his touch. It was getting weird, how this happened when he touched me—did I have some kind of problem or what?

  “I do not want you on the front lines again like last night. Until this whole matter is over and until further notice, you will stay here.”

  “What? You’re crazy. I can’t be shut up here while you and François take all the risks,” I protested, shocked to be put on the sidelines.

  “François will stay here too.”

  I stared openmouthed. What was he thinking? Then, I understood.

  “Karl. You’re afraid that he’ll come after me.”

  “He knows this place. It is a certainty. He will try to kill you first . . . to make me suffer.”

  We looked at each other for a moment, as if time were suspended on our lips.

  “Would you really suffer . . . if that happened?”

  My voice reached my ears in a whisper. Would he miss me if I disappeared? To what extent? And why was I even asking myself that question?

  His eyes got a little brighter, and he slowly leaned toward me. Unsettled by his attitude, I tensed up and leaned away to keep my distance . . . but it didn’t stop him. I found myself once again lying down, my head back on my pillow, not knowing how to react to the face that hovered mere inches above my own.

  Phoenix was looking at me strangely, his fangs out.

  “Samantha Watkins, former librarian of Griffith High School in Kentwood, so human, and yet so extraordinary . . .”

  He was close . . . too close. My brain stubbornly refused to function, and I was hypnotized by his gaze.

  “You are different from all the other women I have ever met.”