The Series that Just Plain Sucks: The Complete Trilogy

by Charissa Dufour

  Samuel jumped to his feet, ready to battle the most recent threat. While he punched and grappled, I rolled onto my stomach and tried to climb to my feet. I didn't get very far. I was barely on my knees when Nik reached my side and tossed me over his shoulder. I grunted and gasped as more blood—my blood—spouted from the wound in my stomach; the movement tore the wound afresh. Just like Samuel, Nik jerked as someone pounded him in the back. This time, being draped over his shoulders, I was able to see his attacker, or rather attackers.

  Two of Richard's vampires, one of which was the man with the shaggy, eighties mustache that had been reciting the ritual, had lined up to take on Nik. Mr. Mustache pummeled Nik's back with his elbow. Nik didn't fall like Samuel, but he didn't keep moving either. He turned toward them, ready to fight, even though I still hung limply from his shoulders. He blocked the next blow easily, taking a kick in the hip before he was dropped by a blow to the back of his knees. Evidently others had joined the fight. The momentum sent me off his shoulders and over his head. I hit the edge of the steps and thumped down to the main level. Meanwhile, Nik defended himself from the multiple attackers.

  Again, I tried to climb to my feet, but slipped on my own blood. The fall, short as it was, bashed my head against the concrete, bringing stars before my eyes and causing my stomach to give a little flip of surprise. I shook my head, trying to clear my mind. Before I could try again, another pair of feet came into view. I glanced up to see Mr. Mustache leering down at me.

  But he never got the chance to snatch me up. Josh slid up behind him, grabbed the man’s loose slacks, and yanked. They came down with an audible swoosh and settled around his ankles. With a smirk on his face, Josh gave him a shove and crawled to my side, followed closely by the yipping ghost of the dog from the graveyard. The tiny animal danced around Josh before noticing Mr. Mustache struggling with his pants. The dog jumped forward and tried to grab hold of the offending pant leg, but did little more than startle our enemy. Josh carefully picked me up, ignoring the antics of the dog.

  I suddenly felt the need to add handles to my daily wardrobe.

  I didn't want him to carry me. Like all the others, he would just end up dropping me. If they'd just give me a few minutes of calm and quiet I could handle the tumult surrounding me. Evidently Josh was small enough to go unnoticed. We reached the door without incident, even made it to the stairs leading to the ground level before anyone stopped us. Sadly, the one to block the narrow stairway was the crazy warlock himself.

  The hood of Sedgrave's cloak, which appeared to be more of a raincoat type thing, was thrown back. To my great surprise, the tall though slight man looked to be no more than fifteen years old. He had soft blond hair that swooped mostly to one side. His skin was clear and very young looking, as though he had never seen the sun. A touch of baby fat still hung about his face, though what muscle he did have was long and lean, rather than bulky. He smiled slightly, his light green eyes brightening with an excitement that sent a chill to the very depths of my stomach.

  “Where are you going?” he asked, his voice soft and youthful. It didn't seem to match the many rumors and myths we'd heard. The simplicity of the question didn't fit with what was going on behind us. I had expected a harsh, gravelly voice in a coarse, old man.

  Before Josh could set me down, or even blink, the warlock flung power at us—sheer, blinding power. It hit like an invisible wall of gelatin that molded around our shape and forced us back down the hall toward the carnage. We collided with the far wall. My neck snapped to the side and my skull banged into the concrete. A bright light shone in my face—like a car's headlights. I blinked a few times to clear the sudden increase of moisture from my eyes.

  Josh quickly scrambled out from under my limp body and rushed the warlock in a rather headlong manner. To my surprise, he managed to move fast enough to tackle the warlock like a linebacker—which is impressive, considering how small Josh is (He's not above five foot five and maybe a hundred and fifty pounds, dripping with molasses). Still, he was up against a teenager. But this youth could fling what felt like walls of electricity.

  The warlock fell against the steps, hitting his head. I noticed a patch of red form on the bottom step and inhaled the sweet scent. Without thinking or feeling my pain, I climbed to my feet and pounced. I'd just gotten my teeth to the warlock's neck when his hands began to glow with a bright blue light that flowed up his arms, to his shoulders, and washed over the rest of his body.

  The light reached me, sending tendrils of pain through my teeth and down my throat. I tried to scream and pull myself away, but the light held me still, frozen in a crouch. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Josh frozen in the same way. The powerful light had spread across the floor and up Josh’s feet.

  Sedgrave pulled himself free and stalked up the steps, the blue glowing light still spilling down his arms toward the ground, like fog from dry ice. I tried to think of a way to escape, but my thoughts came slowly, in a muddled sort of way. I tried to remember why I was stuck, but that, too, was long forgotten.

  What is wrong with me? I wondered. Was it just the blood loss and general mayhem done to my body? I couldn't think—or try to think—about it long. The smell of the warlock's blood filled my senses. My head began to pound as though I had a hangover. Due more to instinct then actual thought, I attempted another lunge in his direction. I, of course, failed.

  Once Sedgrave had reached the top of the steps, blood still flowing down his neck and taunting me, he released us from his invisible grasp. Josh and I stumbled down a step or two before we could get our balance. Josh didn't wait. He rushed up the steps, but the warlock charged up his hands again, whispered a word, and flung a ball of blue fire at Josh.

  I shrieked, terrified that Josh would be burned to a crisp. Josh just managed to dodge it, the ball of mystical flame slamming into the back wall and leaving a large, scorched crater. Josh didn't let the attack slow him more than a second. He continued in his headlong charge, this time hitting the warlock in the shins and flipping him over his shoulder. I guess Josh had watched a great deal of hockey. This wasn't the first time I'd seen him use that move, though it was more effective on the stairs.

  I didn't move fast enough. The flailing warlock caught me across the chest, knocking me from the stairs. We landed in a pile. I was glad to notice the blue fog that had surrounded his hands had faded. I didn't hesitate. I grabbed Sedgrave's hair, yanked his neck to the side, and sunk my teeth into his neck.

  I had intended to drain him dry, but he screamed a word I didn't recognize, slammed his fist into the concrete, and caused the whole building to shake. The concrete bunker sprouted cracks and the impromptu earthquake rattled me right off the warlock. I landed on a wooden, wedge-shaped door stopper. He didn't give me the chance to attack again. He tossed a ball of sunlight at me. It caught me in the shoulder with enough force to slide me across the floor and against the far wall.

  I screamed. The glowing light seemed to be alive, seeping through my skin to the muscles beneath, but the living glow didn't stop there. It dripped down my arm and the back of my shoulder like hot lava. The pain was beyond anything I had ever felt. It made me see red.

  Pain is one of those things that can either make you give up or get angry enough to ignore it. This was the latter. I got too angry to consider the wisdom of my next move.

  During all this, Josh jumped forward, trying to grab Sedgrave's legs. Instead, he took a kick to the face that had more force than a human should be able to manage. Josh flew back, pounding into the concrete. I heard a sickening crack and hoped it was just a few useless ribs, and not something important, like a spine.

  Josh started to climb to his feet, one arm clutched to his side.

  “Stop,” ordered the warlock, his eyes focused on Josh. To my surprise, Josh obeyed. “You don't want to fight me. I stand for peace… ”

  I didn't wait to hear what else Sedgrave had to say on the topic of peace. I grabbed the wooden door stopper and jumped to my feet, a
ll thought of pain or injury lost to the fury surging through my veins. How dare he hurt my friend!

  “You too,” commanded the youth.

  I hesitated, surprised by this new tactic.

  “Hell no,” I snapped, charging forward and slamming the wooden door stopper into the wound on his neck. Evidently, my sudden disobedience came as a complete surprise.

  It took every ounce of willpower I had to ignore the spurting blood and grab Josh. He managed to shake off the warlock's control and we both stumbled up the stairs, equally determined to get away. I didn't know a lot about magical practitioners. For all I knew, a warlock could survive the wound I gave him, which would kill most humans without a surgical team standing by.

  Josh and I stormed through the flooring company, our movement rattling a few of the samples off their displays. They clanked against the floor, making our exit less than sneaky.

  I stumbled through the glass doors, landing on my knees with the last of my strength. “Josh?” I whispered, hoping I hadn't lost him. I felt a pair of hands on my arms as I swayed toward the hard looking sidewalk.

  Those hands failed to catch me.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  I woke with the knowledge that I hadn't been unconscious for long. I was in my tiny apartment, my gray cat sitting next to me on my bed. I could feel his purr vibrating my arm. I groaned, my burned shoulder, gashed throat, shredded back, and gouged stomach all singing out their own misery. I barely even noticed the discomfort of my wrists where they had been chafed by rope. Something was shifting my body in a way that made the wounds scream out. I inhaled sharply and forced my eyes open.

  A face I knew but couldn't name leaned over me, his hands working to bandage my stomach. He paused when he saw that I was awake. I stared into his green eyes, recognition slowly taking place. He was one of the vampires that had tried to sacrifice me. Before he could tie me up again, I bolted off the bed, colliding with a gray-haired man carrying a large green cooler. Again, I couldn't name him, but something about him was familiar.

  Before I could make it to the damaged doorway, a pair of hands grabbed me and spun me around. It was Josh. I couldn't forget him. He was my only friend in this world. My body started to shake—a mixture of fear, exhaustion, confusion, and thirst.

  “Shshsh… shshshsh,” he whispered as he pulled me to his chest and wrapped his arms around me. I laid my head on his shoulder. “It's okay, Ashley. You're safe.”

  “We need to bandage her wounds,” the green-eyed man said over the sound of something dripping on the floor near my feet. The sound of his voice sent new waves of panic through my body. I cried out and tried to pull away from Josh. “What's wrong with her?”

  Again, the man's voice made me try to bolt from the room. Josh held tight to me, keeping me from leaving the small apartment. “I don't know, but she's scared of you. You need to leave.”

  “What?” he asked, his voice tinted with confusion. “Ashley, what's wrong? You know me.”

  I didn't know him. And I didn't know how he knew my name. The intimacy of his words scared me even more. In an effort to free myself from Josh's grasp, I jerked in the other direction. It surprised him enough that he loosened his grip. The momentum sent me to the floor. I skidded under the computer desk and pulled my knees up under my chin.

  The green-eyed man knelt down to look at me. I huddled tightly, wrapping my arms around my knees, and tried to disappear into the dark corner. The man looked at me, pity making him look soft and friendly, but I didn't trust those gentle eyes. How could I, after what he had done to me?

  “Nik, back away,” ordered Josh. The green-eyed man, Nik, obeyed with a heated glare directed at Josh. Josh took his place beside the leg of my protective desk.

  “Make them leave,” I whispered, my eyes pricking with tears. Josh nodded.

  “Everyone out,” he ordered. The man with the cooler set it down and left without asking a question. Nik hesitated. Before Josh could insist, a new pair of legs appeared from the doorway—I couldn't see the face of the newcomer, hidden as I was under the table.

  “Where is she?” I knew that voice. Again, I couldn't recollect a name, but I knew he was powerful. I had an image of him tearing someone's head off. A shudder ran through my battered body. Josh must have pointed at the desk, because a moment later the powerful man knelt down to look at me. “She's still bleeding.”

  I glanced down and saw that I was indeed sitting in a growing puddle of blood. “I think we have bigger problems right now, Mikhail,” Josh said in a deferential tone. “She doesn't seem to remember much, including Samuel, Nik, or you. She's freaked out. It may be best if you two leave.”

  “But she remembers you?”

  There was a pause where I assume Josh nodded.

  “She seemed to remember us before, during the attack.”

  “I don't know, but I'm the only one she trusts right now. Hasn't she been through enough?” demanded Josh in a voice that was slowly growing more aggressive.

  “Right. C'mon Nik. Call us, Josh, if you need help. We have guards in place.”

  Nik and Mikhail left, closing the door behind them. After a second, Josh knelt down to look at me. He didn't ask me to crawl out of my hole, which I was very grateful for. Instead, he dragged the green cooler across the floor and opened it. From within, he withdrew a blood bag and slid it toward me. It bumped against my toes, sloshing quietly.

  Without taking my eyes off him, I lifted it to my lips. I must have blacked out or something, because the next thing I knew, the ground around me was littered with blood bags, some of them even floating in the pool of blood surrounding me. I felt a little better, though my skin crawled with general filth and my shoulder still burned.

  “Ready to come out now?” Josh asked from his perch next to the empty cooler. I noticed he had consumed a few blood bags himself. I glanced around, making sure no one had returned during my little binge. The room was empty. I scooted toward the opening, leaving a trail behind me, but stopped at the edge.

  “What happened?”

  “They raised Sedgrave, but you didn't die. Do you remember the sacrifice?”

  I stopped to think about it. I remembered it. I remembered it happened many different times in many different ways. My eyes started to burn again. I nodded. “Yes.”

  “And you remember me.”

  I nodded again.

  “But not Nik?”

  I thought about it. A few images came to me. Him crouching to defend me, a few words of ridicule, him lighting a tree on fire, him standing in a Civil War movie. No, that wasn't right.

  “Maybe,” I hedged. I didn't want Josh to know just how close I was to a complete breakdown. Surely he didn't need to know that I couldn't remember how I had become a vampire, or what my parents looked like, or if I'd gone to college. I knew him and that the gray lump of fur staring at me was a fae, but that was about it.

  “You don't remember Nik or Mikhail?” Josh asked hesitantly.

  I shook my head.

  “Can you tell me what you do remember?”

  I swallowed the tennis ball that had somehow lodged itself in my throat. “Um… ”

  “Just tell me anything you feel certain about. Who am I?” he asked when I didn't respond.

  “Josh. You are my friend. You… you found me when I was in trouble, but I don't remember why I was in trouble.”

  Josh smiled and nodded. “What else?”

  “Is the cat a… a fae?” I asked, the word sounding wrong to my ears.

  He laughed. “Yes.”

  “What's wrong with her?” another voice asked. I glanced around frantically, wondering if someone had slipped back into the apartment. Josh pointed at the gray cat, who was staring at me.

  “The cat is a fae, so he can talk.”

  I nodded slowly, taking in what he said.

  “What else do you remember?”

  “This is my home.”

  Josh nodded.

  But that was it. I couldn't recall anythin
g else. For a few fleeting moments, I saw glimpses, but they seemed more like windows into someone else's life. I couldn't claim them as my own. I felt hot needles pricking my eyes. I blinked furiously only to feel moisture roll down my cheeks.

  Josh nodded slowly. “Maybe Periphetes will know something about this. We'll find a way to get your memories back,” he insisted as he extended a hand to help me up. I nodded and took his proffered hand. “For now, let's get you cleaned up.”

  Before we could move toward the edge of my bed, a soft knock resounded on my thin door. Josh looked at me a moment before waving me over to the bathroom—not that my toilet would be much of a defense against anything we'd faced thus far tonight. Nonetheless, I obeyed. He stepped up to the door and spoke.

  “Who is it?”

  “She's hurt,” stated a familiar female voice from the other side. It sounded aged, yet playful.

  Josh cracked the door open and peered through the narrow slit. From where I stood in the bathroom doorway, I could see a shocking head of white hair. I wracked my brain, trying to remember who this woman was. Josh glanced over his shoulder at me. Evidently my face showed my confusion.

  “It's okay, Ashley. It's Helen, the wizard who helped us figure out that Richard was after daywalkers.”

  My brain worked slowly as I pieced his words together. The idea of this white-haired woman being a wizard seemed right, felt right. But who was Richard? I got an image of a powerful, yet portly, man waddling around me and causing me pain. Slowly, Josh's statement made sense. I nodded with more confidence.