As if someone wanted to make sure that only bones and teeth were left.
And I think that someone is a vampire.
Eventually, somehow, despite the horrible antiseptic stench in the boring hospital room, I do sleep.
Immediately, all I see in a sea of blackness are blood-red eyes. A flash of white. And then all I feel in a numbing world is the tearing and biting of teeth. I don't smell anything. I don't hear anything. My mouth is open. I know I'm trying to scream. But I can't. I'm a victim. A victim to a vampire.
With a startling jerk, I wake up. I'm back in the hospital room. There aren't any floating red eyes.
I'm safe.
I'm an orphan.
The word orphan echoes in my mind. It's a terrible, mocking word. It's bad enough if you've had the misfortune of outliving your parents. To have that status be labeled a word like orphan is just an added insult.
About an hour later, I have a visitor.
The fire chief pops his head in. "You're awake."
"Guilty."
My throat remains really dry. The doctors have done everything they can for me medically for everything that assaulted me during my fight with the fire. Doesn't matter. I still feel horrible.
He clears his throat. "Is there anything you need?"
"That dog I rescued."
The chief gives a slight smile. "I'll see what I can do, but—"
I nod. I'm a ward of the state now. There's no way I can adopt the dog. I think someone called him a poperanian. Pomperanian. Pomeranian. Something like that.
"I wanted you to know that you were incredibly brave for going in to rescue the dog," the chief adds.
I blink back tears. I saved the dog, but I couldn't save my dad.
"No one else saw him. You have a good eye for detail. Your quick thinking saved your life."
"My dad—"
I can't. I can't talk about what I saw.
But I can't just ignore what happened either. I'll never forget the circumstances of how Dad died. My mom died of pneumonia. She refused to realize how sick she was. She hadn't had to die.
Neither had my dad.
"Did you see the bodies on the second floor?" I ask.
The chief blinks. "I was debriefed by all of the firefighters. They managed to save three people. They hadn't mentioned leaving anyone behind."
"Check for bones," I ask desperately.
"We'll uncover what we can."
Of your father hangs in the air.
"All of us at the fire station will help out with the funeral expenses. I hope that's all right."
It touches me that he asked, considering I'm eight. I want to be brave. I want to be mature and responsible. I want to be able to handle all of this.
To my dismay and horror, I burst into tears. It was actually hard to cry. It came out all strangled. Maybe from the smoke damage. Crying actually gave me more pain, but I couldn’t stop.
The chief crosses the room and awkwardly pats my back.
It took Dad and me some time to adjust to life without Mom.
It's going to take even longer to adjust to life without them both.
Chapter Six
The chief asks the doctors to give me more time so I don't have to be given to the state immediately. A few other firefighters visit me. It's strange to talk to them without my dad around. I ask them about more bodies. Seems to me the door to the room in question had been closed earlier. No one saw it open when they went up to save the trio. I also learn that the entire house collapsed. The fire just burned too hot for them to handle. At least it hadn't spread to any of the nearby houses.
I manage to find out the names of the survivors. Once I have a moment alone, I use Dad's cell to look up a phone number for any of them. As of right now, we—I—still have coverage.
The phone rings and rings and rings.
So, I call the number for the second guy. Again, no answer.
The third is the same.
Really strange.
Until I turn on the news. Luckily, they aren't covering the fire.
Unlikely, they're covering a terrible car accident. The news anchor warns that the upcoming visuals are graphic and not for the faint of heart.
Three people had been in their cars. They all had a lot of wounds to their upper chest areas.
And their necks were all bloodied too.
The news anchor says that they had supposedly found a neighbor to identify them. They flash to another reporter talking to a lady. The lady wears a light blue dress that is so wrinkled it's insane. There are massive dark circles under her eyes. She looks kinda crazy.
"They're cursed," she says. "The family. How else can you explain it?"
"What do you mean?" the reporter asks. She's so eager for a story it's disgusting.
"I mean that the rest of their family died in a house fire."
I turn off the TV. No wonder none of them answered their phones. The survivors are all dead.
They didn't escape the wrath of the vampire.
The question is will I?
Chapter Seven
The funeral is nice enough. I guess. If a funeral can be nice. I hardly say two words. The dog is here with me at least. The chief plans on adopting him since I can't. I kinda wish he would adopt us both.
Instead, I'm put into the system. Maybe because of the tragedy of it all, but I'm placed in foster care a few months later. It doesn't work out. I'm too quiet. I refuse to open up.
Eventually, two years later, I'm adopted despite myself. The family is okay. A mom. A dad. A daughter. They couldn't have more kids and wanted a son. The daughter is eleven. They wanted the son to be close to her age. We get along. Basically, she does her thing, and I do mine.
High school comes around. Some of the guys tease me because of my name. Blake Flack. Whatever.
Some of the girls want to "fix" me, to "save me." Supposedly, I was mysterious. I'm not interested. I keep my head down and get my work done. I get mostly As and a few Bs. I'm huge into the sciences, wanting to know all about biology and physics.
If the teachers only knew where my thirst for knowledge came from, they would think me insane. I'm obsessed with figuring out how a vampire might be real. The physics and geometry I need for angles, precision, and killing.
The only major benefit of my adopted family is my "uncle." Sorry. I just can't consider them my real family. The woman and the man don't pressure me to call them Mom and Dad. I call them by their names instead, or else I would if I called them anything. I just talk to them if I have something to say, which isn't often.
Anyhow, my "uncle" is a private investigator. I desperately want to get into that. My adoptive parents are thrilled I'm excited about something. They even let me go with my "uncle" to the shooting range to practice firing a gun.
My life, though, feels empty. I've yet to really live. I always wanted to be a hero like my dad. I wanted to grow up and be just like him.
Instead of being a firefighter, I'm gonna do something else to honor him.
I sure hope I can make you proud, Dad.
Chapter Eight
After I graduate high school, I return to my hometown. It's basically a small, rinky-dink town. Could be Anytown, USA.
I am so grateful I didn't have to grow up here. Too many people here know about my tragic past. I never would've had a moment of peace.
Ten years might've passed since my dad died, but most everyone recognizes me. They all say I look just like my dad. Not a bad thing, I guess, but I just want to be left alone. Isolation isn’t a terrible thing.
As best as I can, I dive into my research. It’s the only way I can survive the horrible memories trying to surface here. They threaten to overwhelm, to choke me. At night, I suffer debilitating nightmares. It doesn’t matter. I push through.
Shifting through vampire lore to see if anything might be the truth instead of based on a legend is time-consuming. When I take breaks, I research the fire. The fire.
And I discover there's
been a pattern of fires growing outward from another town in a circular pattern. What's worse is that a decade hasn't halted that devastating pattern.
Since I'm not going to college and have no plans to, my adoptive parents gave me a decently sized fund. I use it to hop a flight to the next city.
Now what? I can't very well guess which building is going to go up in flames.
I'm sitting in a small, smelly hotel room. From my luggage, I remove two stakes. One is silver. The other is wooden. I don't know if either will work. I don't know if I'm insane. Maybe I am. Maybe I'm utterly foolish for continuing to believe that vampires are real.
All I know is that whenever I lose faith, I have that nightmare about being bitten again. It's enough to get me to refocus every time.
A week passes. Another. Maybe I picked the wrong city.
Nope. I'm right. The next day, night actually, a house goes up in flames.
The sirens are loud, piercing, and familiar. I hop into my rental and tear after them. At the scene, a firefighter is wasting time trying to keep gawkers back, including me.
"I'm a volunteer back home," I shout, waving my father’s old helmet. I’ve kept it with me all of these years, my most prized possession.
After a second, he nods me through.
Just like a decade ago, I rush inside the burning building.
This is what I have lived for. This is what I have been waiting for.
I failed before.
I won't fail this time.
Chapter Nine
The fire is hotter than I remember. It's more in my face this time. I put on my father’s helmet, but don’t bother with any other equipment.
The structural damage to this house is intense. Every firefighter I see only needs a little prompting by me to exit. A quick search, well, as quick of a search as is possible in a burning building, reveals I'm alone.
Except for the two bodies upstairs.
I remove my helmet. "Where are you?"
My question is punctuated by a bunch of coughs. Not exactly the gruff, angry, confrontational tone I was going for.
"Show yourself!" I demand.
Only one cough this time. My lungs sure do hate me.
A fog that's different from the smoke appears. I whirl around to stare into glowing red eyes.
Despite my growing anxiety, I remove my two stakes from beneath my trench coat. They fit in my hands as if made for me. Considering they were made for me by me, they're perfect.
"Vampire," I say.
"Human," he spits.
He licks his lips. His clothes are clean other than some soot. There's not a speck of blood on his chin. His teeth, though, are so stained no whitener will ever be able to bleach them.
Quicker than I can see, he dashes toward me. I jerk to the side, hoping to sidestep him. His great speed puts out a small fire near my feet.
He grabs my back and shoves me forward into the wall. I stumble but recover before I collide with it.
Yoga. My adopted sister took it. I did too. Balance is just as important as strength. I lift weights five days a week. Yoga twice. Shoot at the range daily, sometimes twice a day.
The vampire laughs. He's toying with me. Again and again, he comes at me, punching or kicking. Once, he nips at me, but I graze the wooden stake against his cheek.
He doesn't react.
I put the wooden stake away and hold the silver one in both hands.
The vampire circles me. Is he wary? I can't tell. There's a change in the air though.
As we've been fighting, the house is losing its battle against the fire. Walls are crumbling. The floor is slanted. The bodies he's drained the blood from have fallen through a hole to the first floor.
If I don't end this soon, I'm not going to be able to leave. I'll die here, even if not by the vampire's hand.
Even if not by the vampire's teeth.
So, I alter the arrangement. I hold out my hands and tilt my head to the side, offering my neck.
"Come and get it," I say.
The vampire is just like the rest of us males. He suffers from hubris. He must have thought himself too fast for me. The moment I feel his breath on my neck, I plunge the silver stake into his back.
The vampire lets out a blood-curling scream. He staggers back.
I dart around him, remove the stake, and shove it through his back up beneath his rib cage.
The vampire stills and slumps over.
Black blood coats my hand as I remove the stake. I kick the vampire’s body forward until he falls through the hole. He lands awkwardly on top of his victims.
With a roar, more of the house falls. Soon, the entire thing will collapse. I leap through the hole myself. I roll off the bodies and jump through a back window. Glass shards spread everywhere, slicing through my clothes and cutting my skin.
There aren't any witnesses on this side of the house considering it opens into a forest. I stagger to the trees and disappear.
Chapter Ten
I was born Blake Flack, only son of Brendon and Rhonda Flack.
After the adventure of today, I have a new name. I'm renaming myself. I'm now Blake Damon, vampire hunter.
I'm not positive this vampire is the one who killed my father. I'll just have to find and kill as many as I can.
It's not the same as being a firefighter, but maybe I can still honor his memory this way.
Maybe it's still possible for me to be a hero, just like he was.
A silver stake isn't the most convenient weapon though. I need to get my hands on some silver bullets. That'll be my next task. That and doing more research to find cities where bodies have neck wounds.
I just hope I'm up for the task.
Other Books By Nicole Zoltack
Bedlam in Bethlehem
Cops plus Supernatural Creatures
When Vamps Bite (currently in the boxed set Spellbound)
When Wolves Howl
How to Stake a Vampire
Once Upon a Darkened Night
Twisted Fairy Tales
Of Cinder and Madness
The Cost of Love
The Cost of Grief
The Cost of Power
Of Slumber and Discord
The Cost of Magic
Of Rose and Cruelty
The Cost of Rage
The Cost of Treachery
The Cost of Enchantment
Magic Incarnate
Magic + Faith + Teens
A Question of Faith
A Matter of Doubt
A Balance of Power
A Journey of Despair
A Measure of Gloom
A Glimmer of Hope
Marion’s Misery
Kingdom of Arnhem
Knights. Magic. Romance.
Woman of Honor
Knight of Glory
Champion of Valor
Heroes of Falledge
Superheroes need love too.
Black Hellebore
White Hellebore
Scarlet Magi
Beyond Boundaries
Love ignores class.
Masked Love
Starry Love
Bloodlust
Epic fantasy with forbidden love.
The Test of Time
Unpredictable time travel.
Love Before Honor
Medieval knight. Regency lady. Magical Christmas.
Joy to the World
One lady. Two dukes, one of which is an imposter.
Starving for Love
The Little Mermaid with a zombie twist.
Guns and Fangs
A vampire huntress turns into that which she hates.
Shattering Souls
A medical student discovers another has healed a cancer patient… with magic?
Acknowledgments
First and always, I have to thank my husband. I’m sure it can’t be easy being married to a writer, and I am so appreciative of all the support over the years. I love you, Todd! Thank you to my wonderful ch
ildren for understanding that Mommy has work she has to do, but she still does and always will love you!
To some of the best writer friends a girl could ever have. You know who you are and I can’t wait until we can retreat again!
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention my wonderful street team. You keep me going, and I’m writing for you and for all of my fans. Thank you for all you do for me!
And finally, I want to acknowledge my readers. You are why I write. As long as you keep reading, I’ll keep writing. So please keep reading, all right?
About the Author
Nicole Zoltack is a USA Today bestselling author. She loves to write speculative stories for all ages. When she’s not writing about knights, superheroes, or witches, she loves to spend time with her loving husband, three energetic young boys, and precious baby girl. She enjoys riding horses (pretending they’re unicorns) and going to the PA Renaissance Faire, dressed in garb. She’ll also read anything she can get her hands on. Her favorite current TV shows are The Walking Dead and Gotham.
For more information
@NicoleZoltack
authorNicoleZoltack
www.NicoleZoltack.com
[email protected]
How to Stake a Vampire (Bedlam in Bethlehem Book 3) Page 2
