by Martha Woods
The figures of the murdered girls start to vanish. I watch them wave to me, their bodies reconstructing themselves into what they looked like before they died – beautiful, young girls who had lives, futures ahead of them. Jane smiles sadly at me as her form vanishes from sight.
Strong arms scoop me up out of the chair. The chest I am leaned against is cold, and I look up to see Vincent, who looks frightening, hurt badly enough that he can’t pretend at a human form.
“You need a hospital,” he says, though I can feel the want in his eyes as he looks at the open wound on my neck.
“And you’re not in the best condition to take her,” Damon says, sword drawn and placed against Vincent’s throat.
“Correct. I must feed,” and he stares at me longer than I’m comfortable with. I put a weak hand over my neck to cover the wound. “You’ve lost too much blood, Amy. Don’t fear from me. I have enough control to lead both you and Damon to the nearest hospital.”
“Maybe I should carry her,” Damon says.
“We will move quicker if I do it.” And I feel Vincent’s arms holding me closer to his form, as if he does not want to let me go, as if he wants to make sure I’m still real and alive.
“Let’s not fight, and just get on with it,” I say, resting my head against Vincent’s chest and closing my eyes. I feel so dizzy.
Vincent walks fast but not fast enough that Damon can’t keep up. We turn corners in the tunnels, splashing through the gunk before stopping at a ladder that leads up to the real world. It is here that Vincent hands me over to Damon, with some reluctance, to push the manhole cover away. He takes me from Damon again and crawls up, setting me on the sidewalk outside a hospital. He presses his lips quickly against mine, sending a wave of unwarranted pleasure through my aching body.
“Until we meet again, Amy,” he says, then he jumps down into the sewer. Gone as if he was never there.
Damon comes up the manhole, shuts it, and picks me up, walking towards the hospital. I don’t know what he did with all his weapons, but he only has a gun at his side. I suppose walking into a hospital fully armed wouldn’t be the greatest thing in the world. My head falls against his chest, listening to his beating heart and taking comfort in how alive it feels. My eyes close and I can’t help but welcome the darkness that overcomes me.
Epilogue
I stay in the hospital for three days. I’m not sure what story Damon told them of how I got the marks, but the doctors don’t ask me many questions. My neck is stitched up, and the holes in my stomach get staples. There will be a scar where the cross burned into my skin.
Everyone but the person I wanted to see and thank comes to see me during my stay. Vincent keeps away, but I can’t help but hope that I will be able to see him again. I don’t even get any mysterious flowers that will let me know he visited my room or at least checked up on me.
I move half my stuff into Damon’s apartment, my own not feeling safe or mine anymore. I don’t know yet if I’ll stay there for good, or if I’ll rent a new place of my own. But for now I am glad to be with Damon, to fall asleep and wake up safe in his arms. Rick finds me an instructor to help me with hand-to-hand combat, but Damon begins to train me as well, to defend myself against the supernatural. I’m not going to become a hunter, I know that much, but he wants to make sure I am prepared if the need to defend myself against what goes bump in the night ever arises again.
I go back to working as a forensic investigator, but suddenly my job seems less satisfying than before. I am still proud of my work, and I know that I do a lot of good on the police force, but something is missing. I’m not saying I want to be a superhero, and it is nice not having nightmares, but I have scars now that tell stories. I have been touched, and there is no way to return to normal after that.
Especially not when my boyfriend comes home scratched up and bleeding from some fight with the undead. He never tells me the stories but on those nights, I can see the horror in his eyes. Damon hasn’t closed himself off from me, but he is still unwilling to share his nightmares.
I guess that’s how some relationships work – there is always something to keep hidden. I am not sure exactly what I feel for Damon, but I’ve never felt so connected to another man before. I have never felt so safe and wanted, even though he doesn’t have the time to take me out dancing.
And I hide things from him as well. There are nights when he was gone that I do sneak back over to my apartment and wait. I expect to see Vincent return, remembering how sweet his lips felt pressed against mine in front of that hospital, and the promise he made me.
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Click here to read Book Two!
Bonus Book 3
Escaping the Demon's Trap
(Book 1 of ‘Princess Anastasia’s Tales’)
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Martha Woods
© 2017 Martha Woods
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All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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For permissions contact: [email protected]
Chapter 1
I could feel the fear rising in my throat before the images even appeared. In the darkness of my mind, I saw her. The translucent spirit that haunts my every sleeping moment. She floats ideally behind towers of stacked packing boxes, never taking her eyes away from me as her smile slowly grows to a wicked grin. She understands what is going to happen next and I simple stand in horror. My uncle passes before my eyes, terror stricken, as he frantically looks for a way out. We have spent three days in this cell and now we either find a way out or be destroyed. That is when my fear is replaced with desperation as I scream. As my wails are released, so is the deadly power that resides behind my eyes. I hear more screaming, but now all I see are blue flames destroying everything around me. The screams finally pull me back to my reality.
When I finally open my eyes, my bedroom replaces the images of my nightmare, but it seems the dream has traveled with me as I view fresh scorch marks on the stone walls that surround me.
“Not again,” I mutter as I escape the warm fur blankets and walk over to the walls where I place my hand on the stone. The light from the fireplace highlights the marks as my hand becomes covered in black soot. The marks are still warm, confirming my belief that during my nightmare I let go again of the power that patiently waits behind my eyes. I run my hands through my long black hair, trying to calm my nerves. It has been almost a year since I had to deal with any subconscious outburst, and now I’m worried what my mother would think if I told her that I lost control again.
Eventually I coax myself into the bathroom where I allow the hot water to run over my short frame. Where I lack in height, I make up for in toned muscles and strength. I enjoy the scent of lavender and lemon as I scrub my body clean of soot and sweat that is caked in my hair from another nightmare. I almost don’t want to leave the confines of the shower, but I know it won’t be long before my mother will be expecting me for this morning’s report.
Stepping out of the shower, I don’t bother drying my hair as I pull it back into a quick braid and dress in a traditional, dull uniform. The gray and red wool suit will keep me warm in the palace, but I often yarn for my own clothes, the ones I enjoyed wearing when I traveled outside the Kingdom with my uncle. I sigh as I pull on my black boots and tuck a pair of sunglasses in my coat pocket out of habit. Within these walls, I don’t have to hide my powers, but yet I still feel isolated from my people. No one else has the control issues that I do.
“Good morning, Princess,” repeats down
the hallway as I leave my sleeping quarters and head towards the briefing room. I try to be polite and make eye contact with everyone who speaks to me, but I’m running late and don’t want to keep the generals waiting. I hurry through the palace, down to the lower levels, almost running as I near the briefing room. Already I can hear the morning report being spoken as I open the tall, wooden door and step inside.
I don’t say a word as I take a seat towards the head of the table and place my focus on the general that is standing and speaking. A few look over at me with disappointing glares, but I try to listen to what is being said so I don’t miss any more important details.
“….scouts have arrived at the inner fortress. We are currently waiting to hear back from them in order to learn if there are any clear routes to the main gate. Our forces are gathering in order to prepare an attack on the fortress and hopefully close the gate before the end of the month. In the meantime, we are gathering as many tokens as possible to either aid in our search for the remaining gates or destroy them and the creatures inside,” the general finishes his report and promptly sits down at the table as all eyes turn on my mother. I finally take the time to look over at her as I, and the entire room, await her response.
“What do you think, Anastasia?” my mother asks. Her black hair is pulled back into a tight bun, extenuating her high cheekbones. Her bright blue eyes analyze me as the room now turns their attention on me. I hear someone scoff, but I don’t dare look away from my mother. I know this is a test and I always make sure to pass any test placed in front of me.
“Collecting tokens is risky business since we have no idea how many our ancestors made and distributed. I think our main focus should be closing the gates, and then go out and search for what remnants are left of the supernatural world,” I suggest.
“And what happens when our powers disappear with the closing of the gates? How will we destroy tokens then?” a general rudely buds into my train of thought. I slowly stand and face the man who has boldly spoken ahead of me.
“No one in this room knows more about the dangers of destroying tokens like I do,” I begin as the room grows quiet and cold. “And if it wasn’t for my powers I wouldn’t be standing here today.” I paused, waiting to see if anyone else would dare speak up. I might be the youngest person in the room, but it was no secret that I was the strongest. “But if the gates are closed, then there is no reason for these powers. Let the trapped creatures on the Earth be collected and isolated for the remainder of this planet’s life,” I finish as I sit down and face my mother. A look of content resides on her face as she finally looks away from me and back at the others sitting around the table. Each man and woman in royal uniforms have proven their worth in both battle and loyalty to my family.
“Thank you, generals. That will be enough today. Let us come to a decision tomorrow when hopefully we have more information from the scouts,” my mother commands. The sound of chairs moving back from the table fills the room as I wait patiently for the room to clear. My mother stands and motions for me to follow her. Silently, we walk down the hallway to her private sitting room where a small tray of tea and sandwiches are waiting.
“That was an impressive speech in there,” my mother comments as I pour her a cup of tea and hand her the cup before pouring my own. The hot liquid warms my body as I inhale the sweet scent. Even though our Kingdom is isolated in a snow-covered location, from time to time we are able to enjoy delectable dishes when a new shipment arrives from the south.
“It was my honest opinion. With father begin with the warriors on the front line, I want the gates closed so our family can be together for once,” I admit as I fit an entire small sandwich in my mouth. The fresh vegetables are exactly what I have been craving.
“So, your tactic is based on personal feelings instead of logical reasoning?” my mother questions as she slowly bites into a sandwich and I’m already finishing my third one. I drink the rest of the tea and then set my empty cup aside.
“Can it not be both?” I eye my mother as she slowly chews. Thankfully before she can lecture me on my decision process, a messenger enters the room and quickly hands me a piece of paper.
“Princess, you received an email this morning. I took the liberty of printing and delivering the message right away,” he says before disappearing back out the door. I quickly open the letter and scan the words, surprised by the recipient’s name and even more disturbed by the news.
“What’s happen? I can tell it isn’t good by the look on your face,” my mother comments as I fold the paper and stick it in my pocket. I run my fingers along the sunglasses in my pocket, as my mind races between memories and actions I’d like to take.
“Darien Mathews has contacted me. He sends news of the death of his parents,” I look up at my mother as the name sends concern through her face. “He says they died on a boating excursion off the Carolina coastline. He is seeking my assistance with the selling of his parent’s antique business.”
My mother responds by cursing under her breath. The death of the Darien’s parents means our trading route in North America has been compromised. The Mathews family has aided in the Kingdom in collecting and finding tokens for us to destroy. As a child, I would accompany my uncle to the Mathews’ estate to help transfer such tokens. After my uncle died, I left North America and haven’t spoken with Darien since. My thoughts quickly turn to his two younger siblings, Elizabeth and John. I was having a hard time imaging how this death was affecting them.
“We need to get our people over there right away to take over that operation. We can’t afford the Mathews’ connections to falter,” my mother says before she stands and makes her way towards the door.
“I’ll go,” I speak up before she can leave. My mother quickly turns around and looks me over seriously.
“I want you here for the scout’s report. With your father gone and your brother detained with his work, I don’t want you on the other side of the world wrapping up loose ends,” she states as she crosses her arms over her chest. I’ve seen this stance before, where she gives me no choose but to defy her or follow orders.
“I’ll only be a few days. And I doubt Darien will trust anyone else to help him sell his parent’s business. After all, he was the one who contacted me,” I speak up.
“And is this another emotional response, or a logical one?” my mother responds, clearly testing me again.
“This is the most logical course of action. The faster the trade lines can be stabilized with one of our people, the faster we can place our focus back on more important matters,” I say sternly, making sure to be completely believable. I watch as she shifts her weight from one foot to another as my words wash over her.
“Fine. But you’ll travel with an escort of my choosing and pursue any tokens that might be in the area. This isn’t a vacation, Anna, this is serious business.”
“Agreed,” I respond quickly. Silence falls between us before she finally leaves. I let out the breath that I had been holding in my lungs as I listen to her footsteps echo down the hallway. I pull the email back out of my pocket as I slowly read Darien’s words again. Sitting back down, I read them over and over again, still shocked that he contacted me of all people. I begin wondering what he must look like after almost fifteen years. I read the names of his younger siblings, remembering how Elizabeth was one a few months old the last time she had been at the Mathews estate, and how John was born five years later.
I’m pulled from my thoughts as I hear the door handle turn and instantly I pocket the email as I look up to see Morgan standing in the doorway. He looks exhausted, his short brown hair sticking up in all directions compared to the slick manner it usually is tamed. He saunters over to the chair in front of me and plops down dramatically, obviously upset over being woken during daylight hours.
“Vampires are so emotional,” I speak up as he closes his eyes and begins rubbing his forehead.
“I prefer the word sensitive,” he mumbles as he stretches and
leans forward in the chair to focus his black eyes on me. “Now tell me Anastasia, why I have been woken during the retched time of day.”
I observe him for a moment, especially his blank eyes that I often envy. Despite his tall and lean frame, I know an uncommon strength resides in him. “Morgan, it appears my mother has chosen you to be my escort. Though your almost worthless to me during the day, I’m sure your other qualities deem you amiable for the journey.”
“And what other qualities do you mean exactly?” Morgan asks as a sly grin creeps upon his face. He reaches for my hand but I avoid the connection by leaning back in my chair and crossing my legs.
“Your brute strength of course,” I laugh as I look back into his depthless eyes. “And more than likely your connections in the area. I’m going to need someone who knows what going on so I can find what I want quickly and return home before the next battle.”
“Warriors,” Morgan mumbles as he rolls his eye. “You sure you can’t think of any other reason why you might need me?” The smile on his face returns as he closes the distance between us and kneels beside me. I can’t help but smile as I lean towards him, locking eyes with a being who must be at least three times my age. He picks up my hand and begins tracing my knuckles with his long, white fingers.
“I guess I could think of a few other ways you could prove useful to me,” I whisper as he leans his face towards mine. “Like bait for demons or other unpleasant spirits.” Morgan growls as he quickly stands and walks away from me. He stops in the doorway and stares down at me. “Be ready in two hours, Morgan. I don’t want to miss the only ride out of this forsaken place.” He doesn’t respond, but simple nods before walking out of the room.
