SURVIVAL

by Karen Payton Holt

“Rebekah,” he hissed.

  The metal cuff gripping her wrist clanged like an alarm bell as she scrabbled up the bed, refusing to let the futility squeezing her chest drag her back down.

  He moved silently forward and clasped his cold fingers around her ankles, laying down one finger at a time. His amused chuckle filled her ears. His grasp seared like freezer burn as he slowly, inch by inch, drew her back down the mattress.

  The muscles in her neck burned as Rebekah strained to raise her chin and keep her face, her brain, her consciousness, away from him. A whimper vibrated in her throat.

  Suddenly, he was on top of her, his weight bearing down and she could barely breathe. Her shoulder blades screamed, and her legs tingled with the splintered glass of pins and needles as her blood flow faltered.

  His breath, cold and laced with the stench of rotted meat, filled her lungs and made her retch as he aligned his face with hers. “I saw him with Annabelle.”

  “Liar,” she hissed, and he laughed.

  Her teeth clattered as his icy temperature invaded every cell of her body.

  His dead weight cut off her circulation, starving her brain of oxygen. Glittering sparks filled the blank canvas of her mind, enticing her to follow them into oblivion.

  Sebastian closed his eyes, enjoying the electric charge of her muscles in spasm, the sound of the corded sinews in her neck popping, and the hum of synapses firing in her brain. He savored the journey through her senses as her fear mounted.

  Venom oozed from his slack lips and into Rebekah’s mouth as he closed the space and smothered her in a wet cold kiss. He swallowed her scream, filling his chest with it, and his cold flesh hardened, pressing into her soft belly.

  Careful. He eased his weight. Don’t want to break any bones yet. He flexed his lungs as her scent scorched his throat. When he sensed her leaving, felt the black fingers of unconsciousness dragging down the blinds, he sucked on her face and sighed, “Nice, very nice, as I knew you would be.”

  And then, bracing his hands on the bedframe, he leapt to his feet, retreated, and watched her from the doorway. He smiled. He could hear the sudden release of blood rushing into her oxygen-starved tissue. Her consciousness would be returning, and the flood of endorphins would, for a short while, mask the sensation of pain. She will feel as though she is floating off that mattress. His grin widened as her body twitched, snapping her limbs into the jerking dance of terror that he so enjoyed. Such a pity that I have to go.

  I want to take my time, savor her fear, and enjoy bringing her closer to death. Next time he would saturate his sharpened vampire senses in her. His anticipation was a red-hot poker through his center. This visit was quick, but it whet an appetite for her an ocean deep. “I will see you again soon, my Rebekah.”

  Sebastian closed the door and left the house. He crossed Hyde Park, locking her scent inside, he felt her terror singing through him, and, as he approached the council building his attention turned to Connor. I’ll enjoy making him suffer.

  He arranged his boyish features into the sycophantic smile which Serge had come to expect. This is a big day. His expression slipped into a vicious grin before melting back again. I finally get to see the inside of the council chambers. Next stop, attending a hearing. Reeling Serge in is proving easier than I thought. And, when I get onto the council I can stop pretending. He paused to take in the marble facade of the council building, an ivory face in the moonlight which seemed to smile down upon him. Yes, life is good. He tripped lightly up the steps, and disappeared inside. Once the heavy wooden doors swung closed, only the faint smell of his excitement tainted the air.

  <><><>

  After Julian declared the court session closed, he moved swiftly through the corridors of the council building flanked by his fellow jurors. Alexander and Marius still wore the flowing black robes of their office. Julian had already changed, intent on executing a smooth getaway.

  The effort he had called upon to withstand the demands of the hive members in court today left every nerve ending singing with tension.

  Matching Julian’s pace, Juror Marius said, “It’s unbelievable that Serge is pushing for the Hybrid Breeding Project to have a second trial.”

  The spring in Julian’s stride was rooted in satisfaction at successfully opposing every move Serge made, although the repetition was tedious. Serge is like Doctor Frankenstein, certain that the monster will turn out better the second time around. “Serge is tenacious, Marius, you know that.”

  Every argument Serge put forward, Julian dissected and disparaged, more than once, and convincingly.

  “I hope we’ve heard the last of it. We can’t risk anymore female humans, and you’d think Serge would realize that by now,” Alexander said absently.

  Julian agreed with his young companion. “We are one step closer to impressing upon the hive that free range human farming can be a long-term solution. We should be moving forward with that.” Okay, we are a long way off from humans giving their blood freely. But who knows where it could lead? Leizle’s desolate expression when he had left her was another memento of his own agony. He knew how generous the human heart was. So, who knows?

  “Principal Julian.” A wavering voice with strident overtones chased him down the corridor.

  Serge. What now? Waving Marius and Alexander onward, Julian fell back and turned around. “Councilor Serge?” He inclined his head in greeting, but his expression was closed.

  “I’m disappointed the council are so short-sighted. You’re a sensible man. Surely you can see our survival depends on hybrid development?” Serge coaxed.

  Julian suppressed a smile. He doesn’t like me, but he knows that without me onside he has no hope.

  “You’re looking for a permanent solution, surely this one is perfect?”

  Leizle and Connor demanded his attention, and he resented wasting his time. As Julian took a breath, ready to fire the words which would cut the councilor short, his hackles rose. An aroma plumed in the air and distaste tainted his palette. The elusive odor played on his mind, and he knew he had smelled it before, and it was important.

  He turned to look into the face of a young, boyish vampire with black wavy hair. His courteous smile did not reach his eyes, which glinted in the dimly lit corridor.

  “I don’t think you’ve met my protégé, Sebastian? This is Principal Julian.” Serge introduced them.

  Julian scoured the youthful face. Like a wind chime jangling in the distance, there was something about this Sebastian he found annoying. I never forget a face. I have not seen this one before, and yet...

  Julian shrugged off the feeling, shelving it for another day. Right now, I have more important things. Sebastian’s arrogant demeanor almost undid two hundred years of breeding as Julian entertained walking away without a word. The move was almost accomplished as he shifted his weight and prepared to disappear, but the tantalizing trace of that odor held him there.

  His attention bored into the hazel eyes, and peeling aside the layers, he identified conceit. The carefully arranged features implied respect. However, this vampire cannot hide his ego. Julian almost laughed aloud.

  “Principal Julian,” said Sebastian. He inclined his head, the untamed hair obscuring his eyes for a moment before his arrogance emerged again as he confidently offered his hand.

  Julian mimicked the fake smile. He considered the extended hand as though he had never seen one before. When he looked back at Sebastian, his brows rose in sardonic inquiry. He might as well have slapped the youth across the face.

  Sebastian stood his ground, resisting the recoil that Julian detected shuddering through his body. The hazel eyes glinted with calculation.

  Should I be impressed? I think not. But I need to know more about this one. Distaste settled as curdled milk in Julian’s gut. “I won’t shake hands.” He paused to recharge his lungs, leaving the insult to hang there like a lightning rod ionizing the atmosphere. “I may hurt you.”

  It was a deliberate slight. Let’s see how he
handles that. How old is this Sebastian? His smell suggests half a decade. Vampires shook hands to gauge the strength of an adversary, and as a sign of respect to another vampire who they considered to be a worthy opponent. It was presumptive of this one to think a vampire of Julian’s standing should oblige. Arrogant, in fact.

  To refuse a handshake declared the vampire as unimportant. Julian chose to rearrange his shirt cuffs, dismissing Sebastian, although he kept him fixed in his peripheral vision. The moment stretched as Julian waited for the response to come. It would tell him a lot and he wasn’t disappointed.

  Sebastian’s chin rose and confidence puffed out his chest, the smug conceit was no longer veiled as he looked Julian in the eye. “Perhaps, I would surprise you, Principal Julian.” He bared his teeth in a manufactured smile, a poor effort at disguising his anger. “I’m stronger than you think.”

  “Really?” Julian summoned a much more convincing smile of amusement, designed to irritate.

  Sebastian’s jaw snapped shut as he bit back further comment.

  “I suggest you choose your... protégés with more care in future, Councilor Serge,” said Julian without releasing Sebastian from his stare. Addressing Sebastian again, Julian added, “As for the rest, we shall see.”

  He piled another insult onto Sebastian’s shoulders by turning his back. He looked at Serge and stated firmly, “You will excuse me.”

  Julian strode away, ignoring Sebastian’s malevolent gaze. The smell still haunted him. He shuffled through his mental filing cabinet, and he could not escape the feeling that, like a blind man sifting through sand, his fingers had grazed upon a familiar object and lost it again. I’m missing something.

  As Sebastian stared into the space the tall blond vampire had vacated, the missing piece of the puzzle slipped into place. It takes a lot to surprise me. He had recognized Julian as the same vampire who helped kill Councilor Serge’s guardsmen, and as the accomplice leaving the human nest with Doctor Connor. A Principal, no less. I’m impressed that Doctor Connor’s co-conspirator is a vampire of such standing. Sebastian was forced to acknowledge that Julian’s powerful aura was even more potent up close. I can use this, but I’ll need to tread carefully.

  Julian’s dismissal stirred his contempt. Sebastian tarred him with the same brush as Connor. They think they are so superior. But I have Rebekah. He enjoyed the gratification at his victory over them both.

  Her milk-white skin had been luminescent in the dim light filtering into his basement. His slackened fingertips feathered together as he remembered her texture. He had not tasted her yet. Councilor Serge’s demands delayed that moment. But thanks to Principal Julian, I will enjoy it all the more. Sebastian was still infuriated by Julian’s rebuff. He will come to regret that. Rebekah certainly will.

  Sebastian registered Serge’s voice as an irritant. The councilor’s dry vocal chords made him want to clear his own throat. Reluctantly, he punched a hole through the cloud of his obsession and tuned in to Serge’s words.

  “Well, have you found her yet?” he asked impatiently, blindsiding Sebastian for a second. Serge’s look of inquiry sharpened as he waited.

  As Sebastian wondered if Serge somehow knew about Rebekah, comprehension dawned, and he was quickly back on track. “No, I’m afraid Emily has betrayed us. Doctor Connor is apparently irresistible.” His lips curved in a convincing smile of regret. “I shall keep looking, of course, but she seems to have covered her tracks well.” He met Serge’s eye without a flicker.

  Chapter 9

  Rain beat down upon Connor’s shoulders as he made short work of the journey through London. He spared a moment to hope that Julian would be kind to Leizle before every thread of his concentration was braided into one compelling thought. I must find out what Annabelle knows. Needle sharp darts of rain bit into Connor’s skin, and he increased his speed, reveling in their distraction. They were a physical expression of the dread tingling along his spine.

  Leaving London behind, he plowed through woodland, carving a path through the English countryside.

  Finally, hurtling down the eco-shelter tunnels, he shed his soaked greatcoat without breaking stride. The flames in the sconces guttered as he whipped past. An avenging angel dressed in steel gray frost, his face was devoid of expression, and rings of cold aluminium barely contained the chasms of his black pupils.

  He honed in on the human heartbeats, and headed for those clustered in the meeting cavern. He could smell their agitation. They don’t know I’m here. It will be the panic of the herd when a predator has struck. His instincts told him Annabelle would be hiding. If she has any sense.

  Connor filled the doorway, a melting ice sculpture dripping rain onto the floor. His wet hair gleamed as the water ran unheeded down his neck. His clothes were plastered to his bone-white frame, his muscles clearly defined as he considered the scene.

  His sudden appearance rattled the group, and they instinctively huddled together. But, as predicted, he did not see Annabelle in the room.

  Harry and Oscar stepped forward to greet him but he silenced them with a glare. The first face he sought out was Thomas’.

  Connor absorbed the boy’s sudden panic as he bore down upon him.

  “Tell me what you know.” He stopped short of touching the youngster as Thomas fell back.

  “N... nothing.” Thomas swallowed.

  Although Connor’s fingers itched to help Thomas find the words, with a monumental effort, he dug up a reassuring smile. “Tell me, Thomas.”

  The boy’s outburst was punctuated by tears. “I showed Annabelle the emergency exit. She had a panic attack.”

  Connor’s jaw twitched as he swallowed his recriminations. His expression fixed as he said, “Go on.”

  “She had another one, I think. She said Rebekah took her outside. It was not until suppertime that Annabelle told us she had lost her.”

  “Lost her?” Connor’s lip curled.

  Oscar stepped up, trying to draw Connor’s attention as he said, “She told me Rebekah was sleeping off a headache. So, we didn’t miss her at first, and when we did, Annabelle said she was hoping Rebekah would come back, and that she couldn’t face us.”

  Without taking his eyes from Thomas’ face, Connor said quietly, “So, she lied. Where is Annabelle now?”

  “She’s in her cavern. Greg’s keeping an eye on her.”

  She’s hiding. Let’s face it, she has nowhere to go. Another length of tunnel reverberated with his passing as he sought her out.

  He found Greg first, standing outside the entrance of her cavern like a bouncer outside a nightclub, his arms folded, and disapproval radiating from every line of his body. A crease which could have been a smile twitched over his face when he saw Connor, and he stepped aside.

  Connor swung in through the doorway, scanned the cave, and, in less than a second, he fixed his eyes on her pinched face.

  She scrambled off the bed, but before she had gained her feet, Connor lunged forward and backed her into the cavern wall.

  “Look at me,” he said softly. As she shrank from him, he settled his hand around her throat and lifted her chin. He could smell the nervous perspiration on her skin. He spat his words into her face as he said again, “Look. At. Me.”

  Her eyes snapped open in a face filled with terror.

  Connor was not moved. “Where is Rebekah?”

  “I had a panic attack.” Her throat worked to swallow against the confinement of Connor’s hand.

  Rushing footfalls echoed in the tunnel outside, and a cluster of anxious humans poured in through the entrance, stopping short as they absorbed the scene.

  Connor cut to the chase. “She went outside with you, and you left her there alone?” His cold voice was disbelieving. “Why did you tell Oscar she was sleeping off a headache?”

  “I have panic attacks, I just needed air.” She gulped, struggling for breath as she frantically searched for Thomas’ face. “Thomas will tell you. I only lied because after a while, she didn’t co
me back.”

  “Thomas has told me.” Connor eased his grip. His hand shifted on to her shoulder and his eyes traveled down her body before returning to her face. Making an assessment of her stress levels, he leaned in to smell her breath, and the iron-tinged aroma of her blood as it washed over his palette brought him to one conclusion.

  “I don’t think so. You have never had a panic attack in your life.” Connor’s pupils contracted to pinpricks of disdain. His lip curled. “Thomas said Rebekah took you outside, and that she did not come back. Now, I want you to tell me.”

  He waited. This was hard, he wanted to sink his fingers into her shoulders and shake her.

  “I was scared when we got separated in the dark. I thought she must have come back already.”

  “Liar,” snapped Connor. He could smell her fear, and knew every word was designed to save her skin. But from who? What was making her cling to her lies? She is petrified, but not of me. But I can change that. He unveiled his thoughts, visualizing shaking her until her neck snapped, and anger shredded the words he snarled. “Annabelle, let me make this easy. Tell me the truth or I will kill you, eventually.”

  He suddenly realized that his indulgence of humans hinged entirely on his joy at being with Rebekah. With her gone, I would cull the entire community and not bat an eyelid, if it brought her back.

  “Believe me, I will snap your neck and not feel one second of regret.” Connor replaced his hand around her throat. “Only Rebekah matters to me. If she dies, your death will be a hundred times more painful than your worst imaginings.”

  His eyes passed over the old bite marks on her shoulders. He tightened his grip, pressing his fingertips into her flesh and marking her with a necklace of bruises. “You have no idea how bad things will get.” His deathly calm was more terrifying than his fury as he said quietly, “Now, the truth, please.”

  “It was a vampire.”

  Connor sneered. “Tell me something I don’t know. Who is he?”

  “He appeared from nowhere. He said he was the general, and then he saw Rebekah and-” Emily’s mouth twisted in anguish as she said, “he left me, and went after her.”