Paranormal Magic (Shades of Prey Book 1)

by Margo Bond Collins

  I storm down the hallway. The floor is thinly carpeted, but the original colour is anybody’s guess. The walls, however, are a different matter. As I walk, I take in the paintings that cover them. It’s like taking a history lesson. The history of vampires. Scenes of bloodshed and death, blood and rebirth. I don’t know whether to be disgusted or amazed by the images.

  “They’re fascinating, aren’t they?” His voice is beside me, and I realise that I have stopped to stare at a particular picture. Its representation is particularly horrifying: A woman on her knees is surrounded by blood—pools of it…oceans of it. It flows from a pile of bodies that looks to be taller than any man. Each face of each body is drawn and empty; the eyes stare blankly at me.

  Women, men, children…babies, even. I am repulsed, and yet my stomach gurgles. The picture seems alive to my sensitive eyes—moving, almost. I see the woman in the picture taking each life. Grabbing each human and drinking her fill, and then leaving them to drain out around her. Too greedy to be bothered to drain them and put them out of their misery.

  His voice is quite in my ears, and I turn to look at him with wide, sorrowful eyes. “I know that you don’t want to hurt anyone, Mia. But believe me, you will; you can’t control yourself right now.”

  I feel a sob building in the back of my throat and swallow it back down. I close my eyes to seal everything back in whilst the tension rolls from me in heated waves. The intense emotions are making me feel sick—one minute furious, the next dizzy with sadness.

  “I wish that you would reconsider leaving, Mia.”

  It just feels like one step too far. I think of all the things that have happened to me in such a short space of time.

  “You know what I wish?” I spin around to look at him, my temper flaring once again. “I wish that someone had asked me what I wanted…preferably before I was turned into one of the undead. My life has been destroyed, my fiancé killed, my best friend god knows what, and now you have brought me here and keep talking in riddles.” I’m fuming and continue to glare at him. “I don’t want anything to do with you, or whatever is going on here. I want my life back.”

  “That life is over now, Mia. Robert has taken it from you,” Mr San says calmly, his eyes downcast in sadness. My infuriation reaches a new level when he adds. “But you aren’t the undead. That implies that you’re a zombie, and they don’t exist,” he chuckles, and watches my face for a reaction.

  “Well, up until a few days ago, I didn’t think that vampires existed. So go figure, huh? And if I can ever get out of this rat maze, than I’m going to kick his arse for everything that he’s done to me… and my family. Now move out of my way.” I charge past him, going back the way we had just come. My steps are faster now that my temper is boiling over.

  I can still feel him following me, but decide to ignore him. He says I’m free to go, so I’m going. As I walk down the corridor, doors open on either side of me. People—or vampires, I think it would be safe to assume—step out. They watch me silently. Their auras are all much the same: light blue with dashes of brown. From the looks on their faces, they are curious but anxious. I wonder randomly what my aura looks like.

  “No one can see it,” his voice sounds out behind me. I’ve no idea what he’s talking about, until he continues. “That seems to be your particular skill, Mia.”

  I stop mid-step and turn to face him, my jaw slack from his revelation.

  “And yours, I’m guessing, is that you can read minds,” I state whilst I watch him with wide eyes.

  “Yes, that is correct. However, I cannot read everyone’s. Only those that aren’t guarded against me. I have other powers too, as do you.” He smiles.

  “Like Mr Breckt’s?”

  He nods. “Yes. Like Mr Breckt.” I watch him in amazement.

  I look behind him as a group of vampires walk towards us, smiling, with their fangs drawn. Mr San turns to see what has caught my attention. He turns back to face me, a confident smile on his face.

  “Don’t mind them, Mia, they are just simple vampires. Emancipators, to be more precise.”

  “Emancipators?” I say, with an arch of an eyebrow.

  “Yes, Emancipators. I think the literal description is to free somebody from slavery, restrictions, or conventions. Or something along those lines.” He waves his hand about. “They were Pawn’s to the Queen, until I freed them—saved them from her, and now they are emancipators.”

  “Emancipators?” I say the word again more carefully, as if learning as new language. Perhaps if I keep repeating the word it will make more sense to me.

  Mr San tilts his head to one side, trying to gauge my reactions. “I know that this must be very confusing for you Mia. This whole new world that you have stumbled upon. Bastions, Emancipators…”

  “Vampires!” I interject with contempt.

  “Yes,” he laughs darkly, “yes, yes, and vampires. There is so much that you need to learn. There’s a hierarchy which you need to understand. But first, I think that you need to come to terms with everything that has happened. Perhaps then you may see that what we are offering you is…well a sanctuary, really.”

  He reaches for me, his fingers barely grasping my wrist as I flinch from him.

  “Don’t. Please, just don’t…” My lips pinch together as my emotions sway. “I don’t want a sanctuary. I want vengeance,” my voice trails off and my eyes look to my feet. I draw in a shaky breath.

  His voice softens. “Mia, we can help you achieve that. That is what we are all after. But we, like you, cannot do it alone. We need you and whether you like it or not…you need us.”

  I look at him. I can feel the tears building in my eyes. “I want to make him pay for what he’s done!”

  “And he will, Mia. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Thirty

  Mr Breckt

  “Where is she?” I grab the closest chair—the only chair left unbroken—pick it up by its heavy wooden arms, and heave it against a wall. All three Pawns stand unflinching as it shatters into pieces with an overtly loud crash. The Pledge, however, jumps. His wide eyes betray him as he struggles to conceal his fear.

  I can smell it though; it pours from him in waves. I hear him swallow, the sound strained whilst he tries to keep every muscle tensed.

  I look at them all, standing in a line, waiting for me to speak again—all eyes upon me, all eyes waiting for me.

  Waiting…

  Waiting…

  Waiting…

  Always waiting for me. Always doing what I ask. I just wanted one thing for me. Just one thing, in this pathetic existence, that I can call my own. And I had it. I had her. I finally had her. And now she’s gone again.

  My hands run through my hair, pulling at the roots in exasperation. Where could she be? She could be hurt. She’ll be getting hungry soon. I can’t stand the thought of my beautiful Mia being hungry. My stomach turns at the thought—desperate, lonely, in pain. What if they have her? What if they hurt her to get to me?

  My Mia.

  I turn in a circle, wide-eyed and dazed. Bloody bile rises in my throat. I turn to them once more, assessing each one of them, each one partly to blame.

  “Where is she?” My voice quavers and I attempt to steady myself. The room is spinning. I need to sit, but I just broke the last chair in the room.

  “Sir, I believe the Emancipators have her.” Ava steps forward calmly.

  “How did they even get in here?” I’m seeing two of her, her face blurring.

  “We aren’t sure, Sir.”

  Anger grows inside me. Twice now we have been broken into. Twice now someone has been taken from me. Twice. How did this happen? I look at them all, knowing that the only way that this could have happened is if one of them were in on it. None of them say anything. Why do I have to ask every damn question? Can’t they think for themselves? I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes.

  “We need to find her.” I open my eyes and look at them straight-faced.

  My hum
an Pledge and three Pawns, all standing there like quirky adopted siblings: Ava, petite, with her dark brown eyes and hair, and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose; Donovan, as big as a giant and as dark as the night; and Cleo, with her short, curly hair, green eyes, and heart-shaped mouth. So childlike and innocent looking. Even Chris has an evil glint to his handsome features. All of them deadly in their own right, and yet somehow, someone has infiltrated my home and taken my most precious thing:

  Mia.

  I don’t know how long I have been sitting here thinking of her. My thoughts are coming in slowly as I listen to the movement around me. I look up with sad eyes and a broken heart. All three Pawns stand exactly where they should be—however, the Pledge has moved. He’s shifting from foot to foot, impatiently looking about the room. I can hear the slow, steady rhythm of his heart, the slow, steady rhythm of his boredom. He notices my glance and freezes, yet he doesn’t look frightened by me.

  I stand up in one fluid movement and walk towards him. Still he doesn’t look frightened.

  I stand before him, staring him down. Still he doesn’t look frightened.

  I reach for him and straighten his collar with a smile. He looks warily to the others. I glance at them also, but they stay in their formation. Standing upright and staring forward, like good soldiers.

  “Are you okay, Chris?”

  He nods meekly at me.

  “I didn’t catch that.” I lift my eyebrow obnoxiously.

  He shuffles from foot to foot again. “Yes, Sir. I’m fine. I erm…”

  “Yes, Chris?”

  “Nothing, Sir.” His heartbeat is quickening, the blood pumping faster.

  “No, go ahead. I can see that you have something on your mind. Do tell. We’re all eager to hear what you have to say.” I look to the others again. “Aren’t we?” They glance sideways at Chris but say nothing. “I said, aren’t we?” Silence pervades the room. I smooth the back of his hair, my hand cupping his neck.

  “So? Come on then. Out with it.” I smile, my fangs releasing. His heart kicks up a gear, pumping his blood through his veins like a runaway train. He swallows, once, twice. He clears his throat as I lead him away from the others.

  “I was just going to say…” he begins.

  I turn to him sharply. “Yes, Chris. Yes…tell me. What is it? What was it that you were going to say?”

  “That, erm…” I can smell his blood. Smell his sweat and panic. I press my forehead against his so that we are nose to nose, leaving him nowhere to look but at me, into my eyes—letting him see my empty soul.

  “Yes, Chris?” The words come out a whisper.

  A shudder runs through him and I close my eyes, picturing her face. She must be so scared, my beautiful Mia.

  “The Queen picked me,” he barely breathes the words out.

  I open my eyes back up and pull away to look at him more closely.

  “If anything happens to me…”

  I’m still holding our heads together, squeezing his neck too hard.

  “Yes, she did, didn’t she?” I release him from my stare and guide him over to the large window that looks across to the forest. His shoulders sag under the tension. “She hand-picked you, Chris. Chose you especially for this trip.” I let my eyes drift across to the tall trees, the moonlight creeping out from behind them. “She sees great potential in you, Chris.” I turn and smile at him. His neck is clammy under my hand.

  “Yeah, she told me that too,” he replies cockily, keeping his eyes on the view.

  “I’ll be honest though, Chris,” I turn back to admire the view with him. “I don’t. I think that you’re going to make a horrendous vampire. You’re going to be unforgiving and ruthless. Greedy and narcissistic.”I pull him by his neck so that he faces me. “Do you understand what I’m saying Chris?”

  “She’ll kill you if anything happens to me.” he says in panic. He keeps his eyes on the view, too afraid to look at me. I watch a single bead of sweat trickle down from his hairline, travelling down his neck until it slips out of sight under his collar.

  “I am just trying to find out whose fault it is that we were infiltrated by our enemy.”

  “Well it wasn’t me.” He swallows again, loudly. When he opens his mouth, I can smell the vomit in the back of his throat.

  I turn him to face The Pawns. “So, whose fault is it then, Chris, our Queen’s most trusted servant? Do tell me.”

  He glances nervously at me and then over at the others. They stare past him, already foreseeing what is coming.

  “It could have been any of their faults really.”

  I laugh—a full, out loud, over-the-top laugh. I laugh until tears form in my eyes, until my stomach hurts and I am hungry. I laugh until he tries to join in and when he does, I rip his head from his neck.

  Blood spurts out from the opening where his head should be, covering me from head to toe, when his body falls to the floor in a crumpled heap. His eyes stare back at me blankly, his mouth forever silent. I don’t even want to drink his blood, he’s that pathetic. I turn and face the others, who remain standing still.

  Chris’s head dangles in my hand as I clutch his hair tightly —the drip, drip, drip of his blood on to the floor.

  “Does anybody here know where she is?” I survey them all once more until Donovan steps forward.

  “I think that they are on the mainland, Sir,” his voice still holds his native French twang that I’ve become accustomed to.

  I drop Chris’s head, letting it fall upon his crumpled, lifeless body, and step towards Donovan.

  “And what makes you think that?” My fangs are still drawn. I thirst for blood. I realise that I’ve done it again. I haven’t fed in days. I can’t even remember the last time. Now I don’t even have my Pledge to go and retrieve me someone to drink.

  “Sir, I could smell the mainland after they left. I could smell the humans on them.” His dark eyes, almost black, bore into mine, challenging me.

  “You could smell the mainland? You mean, you think that they are living amongst the humans?”

  “Yes, Sir.” He steps back to his place.

  This is interesting. “Could you be wrong?” I ask.

  He seems lost in thought for a moment whilst he considers my question, before finally he answers. “Possibly.”

  I feel the rage building inside me. I’m no closer now than I was two hours ago. I survey the room. The furniture is destroyed, and Chris’s body lies in a bloody, lumpy mess. The Queen will be mad. I run my hands through my hair for the hundredth time today. No, she will be furious.

  “But I don’t think that I am.” Donovan steps back in line with the others.

  My body is slowing down, the colours fading as my body struggles to conserve its energy. I need to sit. I once again glance at the broken chair, and tut to myself. I need to focus before this all gets out of hand, and I can’t stop the yarn of my life unravelling before my very eyes. I step away from them all. I need something to drink. I refuse to drink from this little maggot on the floor.

  “Ava, go fetch me something to eat. Donovan, check the security cameras around the perimeter and see if you can figure out which direction they went, and how the hell they got in here! Cleo…” I stare around at the mess. “Sort this out.” I wave a hand around me. “I’ll be in my study.”

  She raises an eyebrow at me, but thankfully doesn’t question my authority. I haven’t the energy to argue with her, or anyone else. At least not until I’ve eaten.

  All three of them set about their given tasks and I leave by the exit at the back of the room.

  As I make my way to my study, I pass Mia’s room. Standing outside the door, I trail my fingers down the grooves of the wood. Resting my head against it, I think of her face. I don’t notice when I enter and lay down on her bed, curling myself into a tight ball in the same space that she had been not a day before—the same space that she had lain waiting, and wanting, for me. How could I have been so stupid to let the opportunity pass? It was my
time, my chance, and I let it slip through my fingers like the sands of time. My body feels cold and weak—twice as powerful as any human, yet twice as weak as any of these vampires right now.

  I push my face into the soft material of her pillow, several strands of her perfect hair still cling to it. I can smell her sweet scent, her shampoo and just…Mia. She has a scent like no other. I rub my face against the pillow, rubbing her smell onto me. Grabbing the duvet, I wrap it around myself hungrily, pulling it over my head so that I am enveloped in her smell, her allure. I can really feel her now, as if she were here with me. A fire burns within me, hot and futile. My fangs release again when I think of her: her face, her smile, her body. The way she was begging for me to take her, opening her thighs to me and pressing my hands against her. I can almost taste her. I groan. She tasted so good. Better than anything I had ever tasted before. I writhe in her covers, rubbing her scent over all of me, wanting to bathe myself in her.

  I hear someone in the room and pull the covers back from my face, looking up warily.

  Ava stands by the doorway with a whimpering woman beside her. The woman is gagged and naked. A blindfold covers her eyes, and her wrists are bound in front of her. I pounce from the bed and grab the woman, throwing her back onto. Then I am on her. I lick up her throat to the sweet throbbing of her jugular, sniffing her from lobe to throat again before I bite into her, gulping down her offering. It’s over before it has begun. She is over.

  I feel alive once more. Rejuvenated and alert. Ready to find my Mia. Ready to rescue her.

  Thirty-One

  Mia

  “How?”

  The word flies from my mouth far too eagerly, at almost breakneck speed. I have shown my cards, given up my ace, so to speak. I roll my eyes at my own stupidity.

  Mr San smiles, a lopsided, creepy smile. It slowly starts at one side of his mouth and ends at the other. Yes, he has me. What’s worse is that he knows it now. “Come with me, Mia.”