by Betsy Flak
Like a bucking bronco, Khan twists and turns, trying to unseat you. You shift to pin his legs down with your shins, but you won’t be able to hold him for long. “Kill him, Paige!”
But Paige isn’t there.
Buying time, you slam Khan’s skull against the unforgiving concrete, then scan the dark room for her. Paige crouches in the mouth of the hallway, fingering Khan’s dagger.
Khan wriggles in your hold.
You smash his head into the ground again. From between gritted teeth, you growl, “Paige, a little help.”
Her head whips toward you. “Oh! Sorry.” Paige sprints to your side, sliding to a stop like a softball player into home. She stabs the blade into Khan’s calf and rips.
Khan screams.
Paige grins. “That’s for what you did to me.” She slashes the other calf. “And that’s for what you did to my friend.”
Khan only whimpers this time.
Paige brandishes the blade, eyeing where to go next.
“Enough, Paige. Let’s just get this over with.” Although Khan is barely breathing, you don’t trust that it’s over. Not until Khan’s dead.
Chewing on her lower lip, Paige stares at Khan’s quivering body.
You harden your voice into a demand. “Paige.”
Her gaze flashes to you. She shakes whatever that was off. “Right.”
Paige tucks the dagger into her dirty shorts, then moves up Khan’s trembling form to his head. Her fingers dig into his neck. They bore in farther and farther. First one set of knuckles disappears between the tendons, then the next. She leans back on her heels and pulls. And pulls. And pulls.
At last Paige twists. Khan’s head pops off his body like the top of a bottle of champagne. Paige holds her trophy up and stares into Khan’s unseeing eyes. She cackles.
Khan’s head and body turn to dust.
“Damn. I wanted to keep that, preserve it or somethin’. Oh well.” Paige claps her hands together. Clouds of Khan’s remains swirl around her.
Following Paige’s lead, you stand and dust off Khan’s ashes from your ripped Corner Coffee T-shirt and stained shorts. Half of you can’t believe Paige just decapitated someone with her bare hands. The other half wishes you’d done it.
Paige wraps an arm around your waist and leans her head against your shoulder. She gazes up at you, her obsidian eyes wide. “You mean what you said back there?”
“’Course, Paige.”
“Because if you didn’t, I’d totally understand.”
No, you wouldn’t. But that doesn’t matter. You have forgiven Paige. She did what she had to do to survive. And besides, now you’re a superhero…or a super-villain. “I do mean it, Paige. The past is the past.”
“Good.” She squeezes your waist. “Because I intend to have a good long eternal future with you by my side.”
You drape your arm over Paige’s bony shoulders. “Me too.”
Together, you and Paige walk off into the darkness, ready to start your brand new life.
To continue, click here.
And that’s it! For now anyway. Unless you’re dead. Then your story really is over.
For those of you who are still alive, never fear! I plan to write more, but for that I need your help. I want to prioritize which storylines continue based on which are the most popular. So, let me know what happened to you (or your favorite storyline) through email ([email protected]), Facebook (@betsyflakwritesfantasy), or Twitter (@Betsy_Flak).
But isn’t this useless if I’m dead?
First: Yes, although it’s still helpful for me to know how often people end up dead. That way, I can adjust the frequency of “You’re dead” in the next installment.
Second: Remember, you can always re-read and tweak your decisions to end up with a different outcome. Isn’t that the fun of interactive stories anyway?
Thanks for reading!
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The Unleashed Creation by Betsy Flak
The Clan-Vampire Clash: A Prequel
Duncan lives in a world where it’s kill or be killed, whether that’s by his vampire allies or by the Clan’s vampire hunters. But he wants something more. He wants freedom. When he stumbles across a rogue fire witch that the Clan has left to die, he knows it’s his chance. If he can persuade her to switch sides, together they can unite the vampires and destroy the Clan itself. There’s just one catch: can Duncan convince the witch before she kills him?
The Unleashed Creation is a stand-alone prequel novelette to The Clan-Vampire Clash, a series of YA paranormal fantasy novels. If you like sinister villains, a heavy dose of vampires and magic, and supernatural suspense, you’ll love this addictive new series.
Find out what readers are calling “amazing,” “intriguing,” and “a new idea” today!
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The Unleashed Creation
The Clan-Vampire Clash: A Prequel
Sneak peek edition
Prologue
Saturday
Adara
Adara flashed a grin at Charlie, then hurled a fireball straight into its chest. The creature blazed orange against the starry night. A heartbeat later, it burst, spreading a cloud of gray ash over the prairie grasses.
Charlie shook his head in mock dismay. “Geez, ‘Dara, you could at least let ’em get a little close. Y’ know, let ’em think they have a chance before ya snuff ’em out.”
“Please. You’re just being lazy. You don’t want any more of my fires to quench than absolutely necessary.” Keeping one eye on the Indestructible horde surrounding them, Adara set a handful of grass ablaze. The flames danced above her fingertips, a bouquet of fire—Adara’s favorite kind.
Charlie shrugged, but his lips stretched into a crooked smile. “Maybe.” His fingers twitched upward. A geyser ten feet tall erupted from the ground, drenching a wayward fire creeping toward the battle.
All around them, members of the Indestructible fought against the Warriors of Adara and Charlie’s Cell. In the middle of it all, Adara and Charlie stood, their fingers a careful inch away. She set the Indestructible ablaze, picking them off through the field of Warriors, while he kept her fires under control. A few feet away, Manny—their Cell’s Healer—tended the wounded on hands and knees.
The combat had started with even numbers. Her Cell now outnumbered the Indestructible almost two-to-one. It made Adara’s task more difficult: fewer targets with more obstacles. If only the Clan would let me unleash my powers and kill them all in a single blast. But no, Clan rules meant she couldn’t disrupt the natural environment, despite these unnatural things attacking them.
Besides, one giant fire was dangerous for Adara. It was harder for Charlie to check, so it would consume more. The more her Flames consumed, the more they wanted. The more they demanded. If she gave into them, even for a moment…
Adara clapped her hands together, snuffing out both the thought and her pet fire. Refocused on the fight, she reached down and ripped off another handful of grass. This one she mashed into a ball. Her russet gaze bright in the starlight, Adara scanned the skirmish for an opening to injure or kill. Her fingers pulsed in and out of her ball of grass.
“Charlie? Charlie, can I get your help over here?” Manny called from the ground.
A sandy lock tilted over and fell into Ch
arlie’s blue-green eyes as he whipped toward Manny.
Manny’s hands pressed against a Warrior’s thigh. Black blood bubbled between his fingers.
Charlie returned to Adara, reaching toward her waist. He stopped short. They couldn’t touch, not when their powers were active. “You’ll be okay if I go help Manny for a bit?”
“’Course I will.” Adara winked. “I’ll even be careful, just for you. But hurry back. You know how I hate prudence.”
Charlie chuckled. “I do indeed.” His index finger wagged at Adara while he backstepped to Manny. “Be careful. I love you.”
“I love you too.” Adara’s gaze followed Charlie until he bent next to Manny and set to work. With Charlie’s touch of Healing assisting him, Manny would have that Warrior up and fighting in no time.
Clutching her soon-to-be fireball, Adara surveyed the battle. The Indestructible had vacated the southern end nearest her. Wise move, you beasts. Now, shall I move east or west first? Hmmm, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west…so I guess east first, then circle toward the west.
With her wild ponytail swishing against her bare shoulders, Adara stalked toward those fighting on the eastern side. Her head tilted as she analyzed the brawl, searching for a safe angle of attack. When a Warrior ducked down to slash at one’s legs, Adara didn’t hesitate. She flung her ball of flaming grass. It whistled over the Warrior and hit her target, this time in the upper arm. Although the creature survived, fire crawled down toward its wrist and up toward its neck. Like an idiot, it tried to pat her flames out. Panic twisted its face.
The Warriors near the blazing beast wasted no time. One knocked it onto the ground. Before it could react, the other slammed a stake into its heart. A breath later, there was nothing but dust. After a nod toward Adara, the two Warriors split to join the combat farther away.
Adara trailed them, searching for another victim. She smothered a sigh. This type of fight was her least favorite, with all its watching and waiting. Usually, Charlie stood by her side, cracking jokes and amusing her while they waited. Without him, the urge to charge in and set them ablaze left and right swelled within her. Her power throbbed at her fingertips, begging for release. It was almost…undeniable. But Adara had promised to be careful.
“A little…help…here,” a Warrior grunted from behind Adara.
She spun around. While she focused on the east, the Indestructible had swarmed the west. No Warrior had thought to warn her until it was almost too late.
“Just a sec.” Kneeling, Adara gathered handful after handful of the tall blades. Her copper stare assessed the battle between the Warriors and the Indestructible while she molded the grass into a ball three times the size of her normal ones. If she did this just right and if they cooperated…
“Watch out!”
Adara’s head snapped around. One of them had snuck around the ranks of fighting Warriors. It charged toward her.
Adara rose into a crouch, preparing for the force of a thousand cars to crash into her. At the same time, she summoned every ounce of her Fire. The Indestructible were impossible for most Fire Diviners to ignite directly. Adara wasn’t most Fire Diviners.
It sped past her.
If there’d been time to be stunned, Adara would have been. The Indestructible always came for her first. In control of the flames that demolished their kind, she was the most dangerous of the Diviners huddled in the middle. As such, she had to be taken out first. Anything less was suicide. Of course, attacking her was suicide as well; they never lasted long enough to scratch her, let alone kill her.
But this time, it didn’t come for her. No, it stormed the two Healers bent over the wounded, oblivious to the battle surrounding them. One of those Healers was her Charlie.
Rage tinged with dread engulfed Adara. She lifted the ball of grass the size of a raccoon over her head. Her arms wound up. She bit into her lower lip. Charlie, Manny, and the injured Warriors were too close to her target.
But there was no time. It was no more than a bodylength away from her Charlie. If she waited, it would kill him. Her Fire would not, not with Charlie’s talent with Water and all their practice. Charlie would shield himself and those around him from her Flames.
Adara launched her fireball—the largest she’d ever created—with two hands. It exploded with a roar over the beast’s back. Her Flames leapt to devour the stray member of the Indestructible.
Adara grinned, her teeth blazing white in the firelight. Her Flames danced over its dying body. When the creature turned to ash, they begged for more.
And why not? They’d just saved her Charlie, why not give them a little reward? After all, there was plenty of fuel around them. And Charlie would keep things under control. And she’d wrap up this fight and not endanger any more of her Cell tonight.
Yesssss, the Flames agreed, Charlie will take care of usssss.
Adara fed the Flames the Indestructible, flicking tongues of fire into any and every part of their bodies. She stoked the fires until the Indestructible became torches blazing beneath a broad starry sky. There was only the howl of the Flames, their tangy scent, their rainbow of red and orange and yellow and the brightest blue, brighter than even Charlie’s eyes.
Still the Flames wanted more. So more Adara gave them. All these dry prairie grasses, the Flames could have them. Was that a stunt of a tree? More to burn. A scraggly shrub? It could burn too. It all could burn. It all would burn.
Her heart pounding in her chest, Adara sprang upright. Sweat evaporated off her hot skin like steam. Harsh memories flooded her mind. Hours later, the Flames had released her and she’d found… No, she would not think about that. That was years ago. Years and years and years ago.
But the memories would not yield. Flashes of charred bodies appeared before her eyes. Adara’s arms wrapped about her core. Bile crawled up her throat. Why did the memories continue to torture her after all these years?
We can sssssshut them off.
Yes, that was it. Surrender to the Flames, become their vessel once more. They would take care of her. They would protect her. She’d never have to remember again.
Adara ripped herself off a lumpy bed that smoldered behind her. Her hands trembled with the power beating in her fingertips. Soon, she promised the Flames, soon. In ripped jeans and a dirty tank top, Adara rushed out of the motel, down the street, and into the forest. She climbed up the foothill. Its dry pine needles crackled beneath her feet.
“Soon,” she whispered, “soon.”
Chapter 1
Sunday
Duncan
“You ready?”
Duncan sucked in a breath. Was he? He didn’t know. But it was now or never. Not trusting his voice to hide his anxiety, Duncan bobbed his head. His talons bored into the branch beneath his feet. A football field away, three silhouettes sparred beneath the trees. Duncan’s superhuman eyes struggled to make them out through the leafy canopy.
Jones’s wide mouth spread into a bloodthirsty grin. Starlight shimmered over his fangs. “All right, let’s do this. Get ready and…go!”
As one, they dropped to the forest floor like they’d practiced for weeks. The soft ground swallowed the sound of their landing.
Within seconds, a faraway call boomed through the empty forest. It was a woman’s voice. “Nic, Stan, this way!”
The Clan had caught their scent. Like a fox from the hounds, Duncan and his master raced away. They ran in a zigzag pattern, leaping over shrubs and fallen logs when they could, dodging them when they couldn’t.
When Jones pointed at the oaks towering above them, Duncan scampered up the nearest trunk. He climbed as high as he could, stopping one level beneath the branches that would sway beneath his weight. Jones did the same. Through leaves as large as his hand, Duncan peered at the ground below him. Silence—the type his kind caused—pressed against his eardrums.
The three Warriors skittered to a halt several yards away.
Come closer.
“It’s…gone.” T
he female stepped in a circle, her dark brows crouched over darker eyes that scanned the forest floor.
“No, it can’t be.” One of the two males stalked forward. His blond hair shone silver in the full moon.
The others followed him.
A few more steps, just a few more steps…
The blond male stopped beneath Duncan’s tree, frowning with his hands on his hips.
Time to go. Duncan’s feet pushed the branch downward. An instant before he launched, Duncan heard, “Stan, wait.”
The warning was too late. Duncan was already in the air. His target—Stan apparently—glanced up. His chiseled jaw dropped.
Duncan’s knees slammed into Stan’s shoulders, then slid down to his chest. They drove Stan into the underbrush. With spiny branches serving as handcuffs, Duncan snapped Stan’s neck. Although he should thrill in the victory, disappointment crawled through Duncan’s veins. Stan hadn’t fought back, not even a little.
And that was the plan, Duncan reminded himself as he climbed out of the shrub. He left Stan’s lifeless body where it was, splayed over the crushed bush.
The two remaining Warriors faced him, wary. The male was brawny as all these Warriors seemed to be, but the female was slight, with a pigtail poof behind either ear. Yet something in her narrowed gaze sent a shiver down Duncan’s spine. He’d kill her first. Yes, her blood would be sweet on his lips.
The girl dropped into a crouch. Her fingers wrapped around a stake on one side and the hilt of a curved sword on the other.
Duncan’s lips flattened into a thin line. What was the sword for? Jones had taught them about stakes, but nothing about swords. When a wooden stake through the heart was the only thing that could kill him—other than direct sunlight—why bother with swordplay?
