Staked!

by Candace Wondrak

  “That’s the last time I ever buy you a smoothie,” Gabriel mumbled, causing Koath’s face to become twisted in confusion.

  “You never bought me a smoothie,” he said as the Nightwalkers neared.

  “Then remind me, if I ever offer, to not buy you one.”

  “Gabriel,” I dragged out the word so he would snap out of his talk with Koath. “Focus.”

  “Right.” Gabriel scratched the grass with his foot and tackled the nearest Nightwalker to the ground, being careful to stay away from its mouth. One bite was all it took. One scratch from their extra sharp teeth and we’d become just like them.

  No blood exchange needed. Simple as that. For Nightwalkers, anyway. Daywalkers were a different story. Turning into one of them involved a lot of different elements that all had to align, otherwise you’d merely die and come back a mindless Nightwalker.

  I roundhouse kicked two Nightwalkers in a row, feeling quite accomplished with myself. It was the moment that I reached into my nonexistent coat pocket to take out my nonexistent stake when I realized the only weapon I had to purify these things with was not there.

  “Koath,” I yelled as I landed hard kicks on their stomachs. “We have no weapons.”

  He rose his hand, motioning to the adjacent woods. “There’s plenty in there.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumbled, remembering the lesson I had with Raphael earlier today. I must have cursed myself when I wondered when I was ever going to use a wooden staff.

  “No, I’m not.” Koath stood motionless as I made a dash for the forest.

  You would think that, since it’s a forest and all, it would have some big sticks just lying around. But it didn’t. At least, not any I could see. It didn’t help that it was nighttime, so my eyes were next to useless. The tall trees blocked out most of the moonlight, which would have helped my situation quite a bit.

  Feeling rushed, I glanced back at Max and Gabriel. They held their own against the five as Koath circled the area, taking mental notes on how they were doing. If I didn’t get back there soon, he might yell at me. And I didn’t want him to yell at me for leaving the guys hanging, so I did the only logical thing: I ran deeper into the forest.

  I wasn’t stupid, even though sometimes it did seem like it. I didn’t go too far. Tried not to, at least. An uncanny feeling rose in my gut, and I felt something peculiar all around me, but quickly dismissed it as my imagination. Sometimes it did get the better of me.

  After everything I saw, I should have known better by now, because it wasn’t my imagination. I spotted a large tree branch and ran for it, but was stopped abruptly by an appalling Demon wearing a long, flowing black cape. Its ears were huge and its head bald and scarred. Its fingernails were long and sharp, along with its teeth.

  All I could think was: what was this thing?

  Its eyes flashed yellow and I suddenly became aware of the staff it held. The wood was a burned white color, rising vertical to the ground and snaking around a yellow crystal. With a jerk of its arm, the bottom of the staff lifted and thumped the ground, making everything around me blindingly white.

  Chapter Three – The King

  The moon that constantly hung over the city came in through the windows, shedding light on our bedroom. Macabre paintings, smearing with the blood of our enemies hung on the walls, interspersed with my lover’s favorite things: masks. Venetian masks, expensive and hand-crafted, collected in our years together. The building we made our gore-filled home lied in the center of town, in what used to be city hall.

  Now everything belonged to us.

  I was caught in a dream, a memory of my past, thousands of years ago. Those I lost. Those I killed. Those particular moments in history when I wanted nothing more to die. Of course, I always got over it.

  There was nothing better than wreaking havoc during life. And my life was eternal.

  As was my Queen’s, now that she was a part of me.

  King and Queen. The nicknames were not chosen by me, but they did suit us. The Witch and her little rebellion feared us, as did the rest of those who managed to survive this long.

  In all my thousands of years of living, I had never gazed upon Hell, but I did my best to bring it to Earth.

  It was a cold sweat that woke me, my light eyes suddenly opening in the silvery darkness. A peculiar yet familiar feeling bubbled in my gut, a magnetism so unique that I only felt it once before.

  I rolled to my side, glancing at the naked back of the Queen. Her hair splayed out on the pillow like a dark halo, her chest rising and falling with every small breath. She was still so young compared to me; it wasn’t a wonder she hadn’t woken the instant she felt it, as I did.

  My eyebrows came together, confusion dawning on me.

  What was this?

  Chapter Four – Kass

  Once the light died down, I bared my teeth and lunged for the robe-wearing, staff-wielding Demon. I meant to tackle it to the ground and beat it up, but alas, I found myself stumbling forward, my outreached arms finding nothing before me.

  Eyes focusing in the darkness, I ascertained that I was still in the forest, but no Demon with ancient robes and a staff from Lord of the Rings stood in front of me.

  “What the…” I whispered, flicking my head around, curious and bewildered.

  I was slow to pick up a thick, wooden log, one that was more in the shape of the fighting staves Raphael made us use in our most recent lesson. Getting used to the weight of it, within the next second, I sprinted back to where I left the group, ready to kick some Nightwalker behind.

  What I saw when I left the forest was not what I expected to see.

  Nothing.

  Absolutely nothing.

  No Gabriel, no Max, no Koath. None of the Nightwalkers remained, either. In fact, all that was left was some rather dead-looking grass.

  “Gabriel,” I shouted, twirling to see if they had started to look for me. Maybe I was in the forest longer than I thought…but somehow, I didn’t think that was true. “Koath? Hello? Max?” With every word, my voice dimmed, growing quieter and quieter. “Anyone?”

  Something wasn’t right here.

  Gripping the stick, I stopped yelling for my friends when I heard a rush of footsteps. They headed toward me quick, far too fast to belong to humans, even if they were sprinting at full speed. I exhaled slowly, readying myself for whatever fight was to come. If that strange Demon in the forest was back with some friends, I wasn’t about to hesitate. Not this time. No blinding light for me.

  A pack of feral dogs surrounded me, though they seemed to be more Demon than dog. Their eyes glowed a fluorescent yellow, their teeth dripped venom as they snarled. Half a dozen, the size of large wolves, clawed at the ground as they circled me. One was larger than the others, the alpha.

  The alpha dog stood proudly as it barked, telling its friends to attack me. All at once, the Demon dogs jumped for me, paws out, mouths open. In this situation, I was oddly grateful for Raphael’s lesson, for I was able to defend myself quite well. Those attacks I couldn’t dodge, I slammed the staff into their bodies, tossing them out of the battle ring.

  It got to the point where the alpha visibly grew angry with me, howling and leaping at me while I was busy hitting one of its furry, feral friends. Larger and faster than its kind, the alpha locked its jaws on my left arm, teeth practically digging down to the bone.

  “Son of a—” I hissed, dropping the staff. The pain seared through me, adrenaline coursing through my veins. With strength I didn’t know I had at the moment, I dug my free hand’s fingers through the alpha’s eyes, effectively blinding it.

  The wolf whimpered, letting go of my arm only when I grabbed its jowls. The rest of the pack watched as I wrestled the alpha to the ground, getting numerous claws and scratches on me, but soon I had my knee on the back of its head, on its spine.

  Lifting my gaze, I glared at the pack of Demon wolves before me, making certain that they saw me above their alpha. Ignoring the stinging
pain in my arm, I used what was left of my Purifier strength to snap the alpha’s neck with my leg. The loud crack was a sickening sound, echoing in the night’s air. The Demon wolves looked to each other, barked softly, and high-tailed it away from me.

  Once I was sure they were gone, I sighed, shoulders slumping, and rolled off the dead Demon. A pack of Demon wolves like this shouldn’t have gone unnoticed by Michael and Raphael. Koath I could lend the forgiveness to, since he was technically new in town. But a gang of vicious, violent, animalistic Demons? Tsk, tsk, tsk, Michael.

  Holding in a moan, I glanced at my left arm. A dozen puncture holes littered my skin, varying in deepness. The blood flowed easily from the holes, dripping onto the grass. I had to get this wound cleaned up fast, otherwise infection was definitely going to happen.

  But first thing’s first. I had to stop the bleeding. If I left it alone until I got home, I was nearly positive I’d die before getting to the front door. Actually, home was too far off. Raphael’s church was closer. He had stuff there I could use, I was positive of it.

  I tore the midriff off my shirt and did my best to make a tourniquet. My usual sarcastic self waned as I began the trek.

  This day totally sucked.

  I was numb to the pain by the time I reached the dilapidated church Raphael called home. The giant doors were closed, and I prayed that he’d be home. What I’d do to have a cell phone right now. One call to Michael, and he’d be here lickety-split with everything I needed to make sure I didn’t lose my arm or die.

  Putting my back to the doors, I used my legs to push them open, fearing I had no strength left in my arms. My willpower was draining. I was getting tired. I wanted nothing more to lay down on the first pew I saw and sleep.

  I shook off the feeling as I entered the church, too caught up in my tiredness to realize that the church looked different than it did the last time I was here. The majority of the pews were torn apart and nailed to the stained-glass windows. The giant holes in the ceiling of the cathedral were covered with tarps. The cross on the altar was broken. A few candles lit the interior, an eerie glow.

  My mouth was open, and I was seconds from shouting for Raphael when an arrow noiselessly pierced the air and landed near my feet.

  A sinister voice spoke from the darkened rafters, “Take another step, and the next one won’t miss.” There was a strangely familiarity to the voice, to the menacing tone. It was one I knew I heard before, but one I could not place.

  It definitely didn’t belong to Raphael.

  “You’re…” The voice grew confused. “You’re not her, are you?”

  A man flashed before me with Daywalker speed, tall and handsome. His muscular body was clad in an outfit that read zombie apocalypse: full of belts, layers and dark colors. But it wasn’t his outfit or his spectacular body that startled me into silence.

  It was his face.

  John.

  Chapter Five – John

  I knew I felt it, but until I laid eyes on her, I couldn’t place it. I certainly didn’t expect to see her walking through the church, clutching her arm like it was about to fall off. I was perched in the upper rafters, shrouded in darkness, my one true ally, my bow, in hand.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  I couldn’t believe it was her.

  After all this time, she was here? Strolling inside as if nothing happened, nothing changed? I frowned deeply, rage surfacing. Before I knew what I was doing, I had an arrow strung and shot it at her. At her feet.

  “Take another step, and the next one won’t miss,” I hissed, knowing how genuine the threat sounded. I never made pointless threats. Never. Yet as I began to reach for the second arrow, I paused as I studied her—and I meant really, truly studied her.

  She wasn’t dressed ridiculously. She looked relatively innocent. She was injured, sure, but beyond that, she seemed normal. Like she did before all this.

  My anger quickly subsided, and my voice grew somewhat weaker, “You’re…you’re not her, are you?” Despite what I should have done, I was suddenly before her, gripping my bow to keep me rooted in reality.

  This couldn’t be happening, could it?

  I remembered high school, I remembered her first day like it was yesterday. Such a long time ago that was, and yet seeing her like this made me remember it all. What could have been if it weren’t for the Vampire who called himself the King.

  Her green eyes stared up at me with such confusion. I wasn’t the only one completely flabbergasted at the situation.

  Seeing her still drove me crazy. Even after all this time, she had a hold on me. She was more beautiful than ever, though she was battered and bloody. I wanted to hold her close, close my eyes, and pretend everything was back to the way it was. That everything wasn’t awful.

  Of course, there was more than the Vampire King that wouldn’t allow that. Other, worse things. The reason we never got together in the first place. Him. I couldn’t even think his name. I didn’t want to.

  As I studied her, watching the blood pool on her makeshift bandage, I merely whispered, “I can’t believe this.”

  For four words, they sure got her pissed instantly.

  Her brows furrowed, her chin jut out. Kass harrumphed, “You can’t believe this? I can’t believe this! What are you even doing back, John? I thought…I don’t know, that you’d had enough of this place? That you never wanted to come back—that you never should come back after all the horrible things you did.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, more confused than ever.

  Kass pursed her lips. “What am I talking about? What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you have some kind of amnesia or something. Michael’s going to get the Council on your ass if you don’t leave. It was a miracle he let you go the first time. He won’t do it again.”

  I was fairly certain Michael wouldn’t be doing anything of the sort. Probably because he was as good as dead.

  Actually, I thought, he was dead.

  Chapter Six – Kass

  “I can’t believe this.”

  He couldn’t believe this? What was his problem?

  All the deaths he caused jumped to the forefront in my mind, the terror he wreaked on me, stalking me and leaving me black roses. Killing the principal and the secretary. Nearly killing Michael. Wanting to turn me. Biting me.

  “You can’t believe this? I can’t believe this! What are you even doing back, John? I thought…I don’t know, that you’d had enough of this place? That you never wanted to come back—that you never should come back after all the horrible things you did.” I took a pause for a breath.

  John watched me go on and on, shaking his head gently. “What are you talking about?”

  I pursed my lips. “What am I talking about? What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you have some kind of amnesia or something. Michael’s going to get the Council on your ass if you don’t leave. It was a miracle he let you go the first time. He won’t do it again.” My injury-free hand clenched into a tight first. “I won’t let you go again.”

  That was when I noticed his tattoos were gone; the ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics that grew on his neck and body as a result of him taking in Osiris’s energy in place of me. He wore a ton of leather, and he was a bit dirty, but no tattoos were visible.

  I took a step away from him, my headache-filled mind trying to put it together and failing. “Where are your tattoos?”

  “What tattoos?”

  “The ones you got from the Osiris ritual?”

  “Osiris ritual?” John echoed, looking at me like I sprouted a second head.

  “Yeah, remember, you were at my house, being super creepy, and then you…you may have saved my life, but that’s beside the point, because you killed at least a dozen people after.”

  John vehemently shook his head. “I’ve never been to your house.”

  “Yes, you have.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  I glared at him, shooting him icy daggers. I wasn’t
going to let his tall, dark and handsome self get me a second time around. I had more self-control than I did when I met him.

  That’s what I liked to tell myself, anyway.

  “I think I’d remember going to your house,” he continued. “And I think I’d remember something called the Osiris ritual.”

  Squinting at him, I questioned, “What’s your game, John? What’s this all about?”

  Another voice erupted from the darkness, appearing near to me, curved dagger flashing as he went to stab me. “I can ask you the same.”

  I was too slow to react, and without a doubt would have been met with a dagger to the gut, but thankfully John used his Daywalker speed to flash between us and stop the attack.

  “What are you doing?” the second man yelled, irate. “She needs to die!”

  “She,” John spoke slowly, carefully, glancing to me, “is not her. Can’t you feel it? She’s different.”

  As the attacker recoiled, realizing that John was right, I gathered the heart that had practically leapt out of my chest at the sudden attack, and I wondered why I needed to die. If anyone needed to die, it was John. Not me.

  “You’re right,” the man eventually agreed, sheathing his dagger. “How’s this possible?”

  I looked to the second man, finally seeing that he was the one I came here to find. Raphael.

  “Raphael?” I asked, noting that his outfit was similar to John’s. His hair was also longer. Too long to have been grown out in less than a day. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know” was what he hesitantly said.

  John glanced down to my arm. Blood flowed through the torn shirt I’d used as a tourniquet, soaking it thoroughly. Drops of it got through, falling to the floor. I recalled the visions I had of him in his past, the violent, blood-filled ones.

  “Clean her up,” John spoke quietly, turning to Raphael. “You’re better able to control yourself than I.” He started to walk away, disappearing into one of the church’s many back rooms.