Half Black Soul

by H. D. Gordon

  Half Black Soul

  The Alexa Montgomery Saga: Book Two

  H. D. Gordon

  Copyright 2012 H.D. Gordon

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright by Heather Gordon, All rights reserved worldwide under Berne Convention. May not be copied or distributed without prior written permission. If you have this file (or a printout) you are depriving the author and the publisher of their rightful royalties and are punishable under law.

  As with everything of any significance in my life, this is for my daughters, Soraya and Akira. Without you, none of this would make any sense. I love you more than life.

  I would first like to thank Robert and Nicole Passante for all of things you both have done for me. I am certain that without you this book would be lost. I am in awe of the kindness you two have shown me and I look forward to what the future will bring with you by my side. Seriously, Nic, the world needs more people like you. I love you very truly.

  Next, I thank my Mother, Janice Gordon. You introduced me to the world of books. You have always encouraged my writing and believed in me from the start. Thank you for always listening to my endless book babble, for reading every word I’ve ever written. For everything. I love you, Mommy.

  Also, thank you to my father, Cyrus Gordon. Without you, I simply would not be. Without you, these books would have never been written. You have loved me unconditionally and been there when I needed you most. You are my guardian angel. I love you, Daddy.

  And, finally, to the readers. I can’t thank you enough for giving a little book called Blood Warrior a try. You have been enormously kind and accepting, and allowed me to live my dream. I love you all.

  Alexa

  They say that change happens over time. I think change happens in rapid moments, moments that are as unpredictable as love, as fleeting, and moments that possess you, rather than the other way around.

  I know what I am. I happen to believe that I was born with certain… inclinations. But I also know that when I woke up this morning I was something entirely different from what I am now. This morning I was something that was in no sense of the word pure, but also not lost, which is what I have become. One of those moments stole any remnant, any hope that I could defeat my inclinations, that I was not fated, that I was, in perhaps some macabre way, mostly good.

  What remains now is no longer a question of whether I can overcome my inclinations, but rather a question of redemption.

  Alexa

  Of course it was raining. I hate driving in the rain. I had been on the road for four hours, the storm just following me the whole way. What is worse is that it made me feel as though I was chasing the sun, just a mile behind it at every moment.

  I’d had to stop for food, still five hours from my destination. The diner I was sitting in was generic; one that could be found off any major highway across America. Upon entering, to the left, there was a small convenience store, complete with magazine racks, souvenirs with pictures of the state of Pennsylvania printed across them, stacks of candy, and a cashier station that housed tobacco products and lottery tickets. To the right lay the small diner, with booths along the windows, and a counter with tall stools and “homemade pies” on top displayed behind clear cases. I’d chosen it because it happened to be the next stop off the highway when hunger struck me. Later I would wonder if it was fate that I should stop at that diner.

  I’d taken the booth nearest the door. I just wanted a break from driving in the rain, and I needed to eat to keep my energy up. I sat down with my back to the entrance, and in hindsight, I should have known then that this place was nowhere I should be. I’m trained, see. I should’ve known better. The only time I sit with my back to an entrance is when the biggest threat is already in the room.

  But my mind was on other things. In the past few weeks, everything I’d thought to be true had turned out to be a lie; the veil that had been draped over my world had been ripped away with abrupt force. I’d always known I was different from other people, but I hadn’t known how far that difference extended; I hadn’t known I wasn’t even human.

  I am the last of my kind; a Sun Warrior, made for battle and killing. And, as it turns out, that was the reason why I’d just left a city full of vampires and werewolves who were under the impression that I was going to save them. To say the least, I had my doubts.

  Everything else had come as a complete shock as well; so crazy that if I didn’t just roll with it, I would probably lose my mind. My Mother had trained me to fight, and yes, kill since I was old enough to walk. She had thought that it was absolutely necessary. I had just thought she was crazy, and I’d hated her for it, but she couldn’t have been more right. She had drilled it into me to protect my little sister, Nelly, because it turned out that Nelly isn’t human either. She’s a Searcher, well, half Searcher, which is a race of vampires that are able to see into peoples souls. But, the other half of what she is was unheard of, and is the reason she has abilities other Searchers don’t have. This is the reason I was supposed to protect her.

  My best friend and newly obtained boyfriend, Jackson, had turned out to be a werewolf. The three of us had all run on the night that harsh reality had smacked me in the face. The night that I lost my Mother. The night before we went to Two Rivers.

  Two Rivers, a hidden city housed in the middle of the Pine Barrens of New Jersey, was the most magnificent place I’d ever seen. You have to stumble through miles of dense forest to find it, and if you are human, the magic surrounding it will keep you from even seeing it. But, huge, stone walls protect it, and the two wide rivers on either side keep bad things from entering; the same bad things that had served to rip me out of my fantasy world, and send me running to the supposed safety of Two Rivers. On the surface, everything there was divinely beautiful; even the vampires and werewolves who called it home. But, the glorious appearance of the Two Rivers hid ugly lies. People there knew something was wrong, but because of a magical substance in the food and blood that Two Rivers served, they didn’t know what awaited them after they outgrew their use. I knew; I’d seen the village.

  The village was where I’d met Soraya. Soraya, and others like her, were the reason that I had vowed to kill the King who was the ultimate ruler of the cities in which these supernaturals lived, like Two Rivers. The King was sending the “unfit” to villages where they were milked for their blood. I didn’t know why the King needed this blood, but I intended to find out. The village I’d found by accident was within the same walls that protected Two Rivers. This meant that the Queen who ran the city knew about the village. She was just the royalty that oversaw Two Rivers, though, and I wasn’t sure what side she was on, so I had to get to the King.

  And then there was Kayden. I didn’t even know where to start with that one. Kayden is a Brocken vampire. Brockens are the fighters that have taken up the protection of the other supernatural races after Warriors, like me, had died out. At Two Rivers, Brockens not only protected, but entertained the citizens by fighting in an arena every month, usually to the death. The Brocken school was where I had attended for the last few weeks, and if I didn’t go make a huge mess of things, someday I would be fighting in that arena as well.

  But, Kayden wasn’t just a Brocken vampire, he was also a Libra. Warriors and Libras are drawn to each other, and since I am the only Warrior left, Kayden is probably the only Libra. His presence alone can soften the fire inside of me, but I refused to admit that I might need him.

  And, anyway, first I had to go find out if my Mother was still alive.

  So, I stared out the window, watching the day. The roof of the establishment wept rain down the glass, blurring the world beyond it, and the dark clouds devoured the sun’s light long before it could reach the earth. It was a good day
for sleeping, certainly not for running off to my probable demise. But, then, I’m not sure if there is ever a good day for that.

  I ignored the sensation for the first few minutes, as my mind was understandably elsewhere, but I felt it as surely as an unwelcome caress to the skin, annoying me rather than alarming me. I was being watched.

  I pulled my attention from the rain, and the very first thing my eyes settled on was the source of the feeling. I suppose I have an instinct for other predators. And the man sitting in a booth at the other end of the restaurant was certainly that, watching me in a manner that made my own predator perk its ears up in response.

  But, this threat was human, and unless he pulled a gun on me or something, I didn’t really have anything to fear. I was stronger and faster, and well, deadlier than any human. And also in a rather bad mood at the moment. So, I stared back at him, and after a few seconds, he averted his eyes. I returned to my thoughts. The watching didn’t carry on.

  Some time later, while I was well on my way to finishing a stack of fluffy pancakes and eggs, the man stood up to leave. As he moved, I watched him.

  Somewhere in his mid-to-late forties, with beady, black eyes, divided by a large, hooked nose and thin, pink lips. A greasy, receding hairline. A generous build with extra helpings around the midsection.

  The man stood beside the booth, patted his ample stomach twice with his left hand, dug some money out of his pocket with his right, and tossed it on the table. Then he began to lumber toward the exit; toward me. I continued watching. Well, something in me continued watching.

  He wore dirty, old jeans and a t-shirt that I could only guess used to be white. Tan work boots, with thick, rubber soles. Large, hairy arms, and a walk that favored the left leg ever so slightly. A weak point.

  Yes, something in me was most certainly paying attention, even if I wasn’t.

  As he moved passed me, the smells of clove cigarettes, fried food, and body odor assaulted my nose, and a feeling that I can only describe as dirty came over me. But an instant later, the small chime on the door sounded, and he was gone, the feeling following him out. I returned to my food and my thoughts.

  For the rest of the meal I tried to think about anything other than my life at the moment. I concentrated on my food instead, and before I knew it, my plate was empty and it was time to be on my way. I paid at the counter, using my own money rather than what my friend Tommy had given me. I only wanted to use his money if absolutely necessary, planning to give it and his car back to him. That is, supposing I was alive to give them back.

  As I pushed open the door to leave, the warm, wet air engulfed me, making me feel once again as though I should really be in bed at the moment. I’d woken up too early, before the sun had completely risen, and since the day was so dark I felt as though last night had never really ended. Like this whole day was going to be one long night for me. Maybe this whole trip.

  But, when the sun really left, things that craved my unique blood would come out looking for me. Vampires that knew no sparkle, or compassion, only destruction. Tonight, Lamias would come out. Horribly murderous monsters that, until last night, I was sure had killed my Mother a few weeks ago, back when life had been normal. I’d killed three of them on the night of the attack. Now one of the ones that I had left alive, left for my Mother to fight alone in order to save my sister’s life, had promised to kill me as soon as I left the walls and safety of Two Rivers. This was the same vampire who had told me that my Mother was alive, that she was being held at a prison for vampires and werewolves; a prison that Two Rivers sent their criminals to. A prison that the Queen of Two Rivers knows about, and a prison that is under the rule of an awful, bastard of a King. The Queen had told me that her search team had found my Mother “drained dry”. Dead. So now I was going to find out who was lying. I had to at least try; I’d already left her to die once.

  So, I knew that at least one Lamia would be looking for me, and I doubted she’d come alone. I had all of eight hours before the sun sank and that hunt began.

  I made my way around to the rear of the building, having parked in the lot behind it in an attempt to travel as inconspicuously as possible. The rain fell on and around me. I dug into my jacket pocket for my keys as I made my way to Tommy’s Mercedes.

  A breeze ran through the parking lot and brought chill bumps up on my arms. It also brought a scent; clove cigarettes, fried food, and body odor.

  I stopped in my tracks and scanned the scene carefully, my senses going on high alert. An old red truck to my far right. A downward slope at the edge of the concrete, with yellowed grass and a small stream, directly ahead of me. A white conversion van parked ten spaces away from the Mercedes to the left. The diner directly behind my back, with twin dumpsters placed conveniently near the rear exit of the restaurant.

  I tilted my head back and inhaled deeply. The breeze had come and gone, taking with it the majority of the scent, leaving behind the chill bumps. But, very faintly, I could still smell the cloves, food and stink of the man lying under that of the wet air and spoiled food in the dumpsters. He was somewhere very close to the white van, waiting for me. My senses told me the first part, my instincts provided the last.

  I resumed my approach, my mind hopping instantly to the whereabouts of my Gladius; the silver Warrior’s sword my Mother had given me the morning before my life had collapsed around me. It lay under the driver’s seat in Tommy’s car. Somehow I knew I wasn’t going to let it out of my sight again after whatever happened next, that leaving it in the car had been a very stupid mistake.

  I was only five feet from the door to the Mercedes when he appeared from behind the white van. I stopped once more. I might have been able to get into the car before he could reach me if I hadn’t stopped. But, stop I did.

  He was even more unappealing when dripping wet; a sight that was something akin to grotesque. His once-white shirt clung to his large belly. His jeans had darkened to the color of soaked denim, and his few patches of straight, black hair hugged his head, revealing an oddly shaped cranium. Rain ran down his hooked nose and jowls. Hunger, deep and wild shined brilliantly behind his black, beady eyes. The belly of my own beast rumbled in response.

  And when my left eye twitched, I knew then that this encounter was going to end badly.

  He made his move toward me, swifter than what his stature would have suggested possible, but he may as well have been moving in slow motion. The usually dormant presence that resides inside of me was fully awake now, replacing what was my unease in the situation with its own intrigue in it. And the world always slowed down when my monster surfaced, in a way that it would never yield to just me.

  I saw everything; crisp, clear, and precise. The way his tan work boots flicked the rain in their forward motion. The way his meaty forearms rubbed against the sides of his fat stomach in time with his long, deliberate strides. The way his cheeks rippled, and how his thin, pink lips pursed as he grew closer to his prey; closer to me.

  I also saw very clearly that a large knife was clutched in his right hand.

  Nelly

  I slumped down a little in my seat, even though I don’t make a habit of slouching. I couldn’t help it. I was not in the least bit happy at the moment, and I didn’t want to pretend to be. If I wasn’t currently in a classroom surrounded by my peers, I would probably have my thumb stuck in my mouth like a baby. I only sucked my thumb in times of horrible stress, and this certainly qualified as that. Alexa was gone. Just gone. I was sure that as soon as classes let out, and I had time to myself to think, I was going to be crying my eyes out, like I had earlier this morning. Right now, it seemed as though the day was crying for me.

  I stared out of the classroom window, watching the rain fall and fall. I was almost glad that the day wasn’t bright and sunny. For one, it matched my mood. For two, my sister hates traveling in the rain, so I kept hoping that maybe she’d be back soon, having changed her mind about whatever had made her leave in the first place.

  Y
es, this was absolutely a horrible, awful, thumb-sucking day.

  To add to that, the thing that had happened earlier with the letter was still freaking me out. When I’d seen Jackson standing in the spot where Alexa and I usually meet up in the morning before school, I knew immediately that something was wrong. I suppose it is one of my “abilities”, but the true feelings of others are never lost to me.

  I’m what is called a Searcher, a blood-drinker that has the ability to literally “Search souls”. But my blood is not pure. I am half of another race; I’m half Lamia, which is the reason I can do things other Searchers aren’t able to do. Things that no one should be able to do. Things I don’t always have control of.

  The unrest in Jackson’s soul was so thick when I’d seen him this morning that to me it seemed almost palpable. It was so different from the positive, sunny soul I so often glimpsed in him that I couldn’t stop my mind from reaching out. So, from fifty yards away, I’d Searched him. I hadn’t meant to, it just happened. I’d pulled it back as soon as I could manage, but from Jackson’s head I’d known that he had a letter for me; a letter from my sister. And it didn’t hold good news.

  When I’d reached him, I could tell that Jackson had no idea of what I’d done. He hadn’t felt my Search; a Search that no one should have been able to accomplish at such a distance. It seemed to me that my abilities were growing stronger and more unpredictable by the day. And what happened next with the letter was further proof of this.

  I’d said, “Hey, Jackson.”

  He’d smiled that charming smile of his, but I could tell upset hid behind it. There was something else too, a different feeling that I decided not to dig into. Whatever was going on in Jackson’s head was none of my business. And, I’d already invaded his privacy a little by accident.

  “Hey, Nelly,” he’d replied.

  Then Jackson pulled a piece of paper out of his flannel shirt pocket and handed it to me. I still haven’t opened the letter, I haven’t had to. At the moment, it was sitting in the side pocket of my backpack. I was kind of afraid to touch it again.