by J. N. Colon
With a chuckle she tossed her arm over my shoulder. “I’m just kidding.” She cupped her mouth with her free hand and stage whispered, “Not at all.”
Laughter rang around us.
My cheeks burned with embarrassment, but I’d gladly take it with a visit from my Lolly. I didn’t get to see the crazy woman enough. “How long are you here…?” My words fell off and muscles froze as my eyes landed on a familiar silver and ruby ring hidden in her mass of necklaces my human eyes never picked up on.
Chills spread the length of my body as my throat dried up and heart slammed against my ribcage. I knew—without a doubt—what the ring looked like up close and personal. I’d been staring at a sketch of it for days.
“Lolly!” I gripped her necklace and pulled out the ring, instantly recognizing the intricate carvings on the large band along with the mirrored crowns on either side of the oval ruby. “Where did you get this!” It was the exact ring from my dream. It was the exact ring Sara had worn.
A mixture of shock and confusion morphed her face. “Gees chickadee. Lower the volume. I might be old but I ain’t deaf.”
Demy and Mac were both staring at it with stunned expressions.
“Where Lolly, where?”
She pulled it out of my tight grip to hold it up. “Ah. That old thing. The nuns gave it to me when I was five right before I was adopted.”
I stepped back and looked at her like she was a stranger. “Since when were you adopted?”
She shrugged. “Since always.”
“Why didn’t I know this?”
She patted my head. “I was adopted when I was five and I never thought of my parents as anything besides my parents. Blood doesn’t matter.”
Oh, in fact, blood does freaking matter especially right now.
“And the ring?” Mac asked, pulling me closer as he sensed my impending freak out.
“My birth mother left me on the doorstep of an abbey. This ring was in the basket with a note saying she loved me and was sorry she couldn’t keep me and to give me the ring when I was old enough.”
Blood drained from my face and my entire body trembled at what this meant. My grandmother was Sara Oliver’s child—and I was her descendent with the gift.
A flurry of curses tumbled out my mouth.
Why do I always miss the obvious?
Chapter 30
I stared vacantly in class, listening to Professor Holland drone on about—hell I don’t know. All my thoughts were focused on the fact I was Sara’s descendent with the gift that was supposed to stop the hunters’ evil plan.
Holy ham hocks and WTF!
Vampire blood has been in my family for a long time. Sara was obviously feeding off this mysterious older vampire so when my grandmother was born she passed his blood to her. Whitmore giving me blood when I was five wasn’t the only reason I started changing so fast when I met Mac at Highland again. And it’s probably one of the reasons I changed into a born vampire.
I always had vampire blood in me.
No wonder my grandmother has aged so nicely and why she hasn’t broken a single bone riding motorcycles. And it’s probably why my mother can so easily finagle people out of tons of money for charity. Can you say compulsion?
Paisley tapped me on the shoulder. “Where’s Demy?”
“Had some business with his dad,” I whispered over my shoulder. They were supposed to talk shifter defense for the school. Now that we know the hunters want to kill them—and probably came up with some scientifically genetic poison to do it—Dimitri’s hackles are raised. Apparently he doesn’t have too much faith in me, the descendent, in stopping this sect of hunters. “He should be back tonight.”
She let out a grumble.
My brow arched. “Why?”
Paisley flicked her ponytail and shrugged noncommittally. “I let him borrow something and I want it back.”
“What a knife?”
She shot me an incredulous expression. “No. A long bow.”
Professor Holland cleared his throat to get our attention. “I hope you girls are discussing the current assignment.” He winked at us and I heard Paisley’s sound of curiosity.
My cheeks dusted with pink and I slumped in my seat to hide from everyone’s eyes. It wasn’t very successful.
Paisley tapped my shoulder again and whispered my name. I spun around annoyed. “What?”
Her brow arched and lips curled in a mocking smirk. “What? I didn’t say anything.”
I shrugged it off and shifted forward only to choke on a gasp.
Holy fish filet!
A ghost was standing by my desk, shooting me an anguished, pleading expression. He must have been a teenager when he died, but now his skin was ashen and hanging off his bones. His green eyes were rimmed in red and sadness while flesh was peeling off his jaw.
Ice traveled over my skin as he continued to silently plead with me.
Mac caught my attention when he noticed the tension in my body. “What’s wrong?” he whispered.
“A ghost,” I hissed.
His brows lifted. “Sara?”
I shook my head.
The male ghost started to transform, his teeth elongating and eyes glowing, but he abruptly stopped, reverting back human.
I swallowed hard, flashes of the dream I had with the shifter in the lab. The silver chains had prevented him from changing to animal form. Was this the ghost of another teenage shifter the hunters experimented on when Sara was here?
“H-Help…” His voice came out like a dry whisper.
I looked around to make certain no one was paying attention—no one human at least. “I don’t know how to help you.”
“Heellp…”
Bright, thick crimson began trickling down his mouth.
A knot formed in my chest from his suffering, a suffering I couldn’t fix or reverse. “I don’t know how.”
“Help… D…” His face strained as he attempted to talk through pain. “Help… Demy.”
Ice sank into my insides, forcing instant tremors through my body. “What’s wrong with Demy?” My voice was barely audible and filled with trepidation.
He shook his head, silent again.
Panic sliced open my chest and I shot to my feet. “What’s wrong with Demy!” I yelled, his form disappearing before my eyes, leaving me frantic for answers.
I could feel the eyes of the entire class glued to me, murmurs of shock and confusion floating around. But the embarrassment of my outburst was nothing compared to the terror ripping my insides in half thinking Demy was hurt or in danger. Or both.
“Rubi?” Professor Holland strode to my desk, worry shading his hazel eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head unable to form words through the fog in my brain.
Mac grabbed me and pulled me into the hall. We ducked into an empty classroom while he called Demy’s number.
My heart violently raged against my ribcage, threatening to burst out my chest like a wild animal. I knew he wouldn’t answer. Something was wrong.
Mac hung up and shook his head his lips pursed. “I’ll call Dimitri.”
I backed up until I hit a wall and slid to the floor, my legs unable to hold my weight. Blood pounded in my head and ghostly whispers began, blocking Mac’s words.
After several minutes he kneeled down his face pale. “Demy never made it to his father’s office.”
I paced in my dorm room, biting my nails while my Mary Jane’s wore a trail in the floor. If I continued I’d bite them bloody, but I didn’t care. I’d heal.
I’m supposed to be the one to stop the hunters and save the shifters. Now the one shifter I can’t live without is in danger. Demy’s missing and no one will let me help.
Everyone was searching the campus without success. Much to my annoyance, Mac put Daedalus outside my door while Rufus patrolled the outside of the building. They were keeping the enemy out as much as they were keeping me in.
I yanked on my navy uniform sweater vest, feeling s
uffocated. I pulled it over my head, tossing it on my bed and yanked my white collared shirt out my green and navy tartan skirt.
This was my fault. Why didn’t I get a premonition dream to stop this?
I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to keep the tears at bay. If anything happens to Demy I don’t know what I’ll do. He’s my best friend. I love him.
He can’t die!
Cold descended through the air and I halted, rubbing my shoulders. If this is Demy’s ghost I’m going to puke.
The white apparition appeared, slowly coalescing into the form that usually only visited my dreams. Sara.
“Where is he?” I cried out, my voice cracking with emotion. “Please tell me he’s not dead.”
She shook her head.
Relief loosened my chest a little. “Why didn’t you tell me I was your descendent?”
Sara tossed her hands in the air as if to say she’s been trying.
I rolled my eyes. Why can’t ghost just say what they mean?
She motioned with a hand for me to follow her out the door.
“I can’t. Daedalus is out there. He won’t let me leave.”
Seconds later a thud resonated in the hall. My heart jumped in my throat, thinking hunters were here for me.
In a way I suppose it was true. Madison stuck her head through the door—literally—with a manic grin. “Vampire guard is out.” She disappeared back through.
I gasped and sprinted toward the door, opening it to find Daedalus laid out on the navy, green, and gold carpet unconscious. “How?”
Madison wiggled her fingers. “I’ve been watching Ghost. I totally Patrick Swazzy-ed his ass.”
I followed Sara down the hall with Madison trailing behind through several twists and turns. We slipped into the boy’s wing of the dorm and stopped at the bookshelf I woke up sleepwalking in front of.
Sara motioned her head toward it.
My brow lifted. “You want me to move it?”
“Uh, Duh Rubi.”
I shot Madison a narrowed glare before stepping around the side of the bookshelf. A frustrated groan slipped out my mouth when it wouldn’t budge.
“Gees Rubi,” Madison snickered. “Aren’t you a vampire? Put some supernatural muscle into it.”
I inwardly cursed myself for forgetting—again—I’m not human. The bookshelf easily slid across the floor, revealing a hidden door.
A gasp tumbled out my mouth as I spotted the elusive door from my dreams. It was hidden behind the bookshelf! That’s why I could never find it.
I opened it and followed her down the stairs to a maze of twisting corridors, my shoes echoing hollowly on the stone floor. If it wasn’t for her lead, I’d no doubt get lost. As we descended another flight of stairs I kept looking over my shoulder expecting a hunter. It was only Madison making faces at me.
A thick metal door with a shiny new keypad rose up in our way, halting the rest of our journey. “What’s the code?”
Sara shook her head and pointed at me.
“I don’t know it,” I hissed. “And it’s too strong for me to kick down. Come on Sara. Demy’s in trouble. Just spit it out.” Irritation and panic laced my tone.
She pointed at my forehead.
I threw my hands in the air, frustrated and scared at the same time. “How am I supposed to know it? I’m not a hunter.” I glanced at Madison.
She held her palms up. “Don’t look at me.”
I growled and rubbed my temples, straining my brain. How the hell am I supposed to know some secret hunter numerical code…?
Wait.
A light went off in my head as I remembered Declan’s arrangement of numbers he told me to memorize. With a trembling finger I reached out and pressed 24, 18, 56, 13, 93. The keypad went green and a click resonated, singling the lock had been released.
Sara was looking very smug.
“Score one for the vampire,” Madison mumbled.
I silently pulled the door open and tiptoed in. What I saw made my stomach heave.
I was standing in a lab very much like the one I’d been held in. A checkered pattern of black and white tiles stretched across the floor, meeting white glossy tiled walls. Metal counters, dark wood and glass cabinets, shelves full of medical equipment, and various medical machines spotted the room. Harsh florescent light fixtures beamed down from the ceiling. An amber and earthly scent snaked up my nose as my eyes landed on the thick metal table in the center of the room.
Demy!
He was strapped to it with thick metal cuffs and heavy silver chains.
I was standing before him in a nano second. Duct tape was around his mouth and I could smell the blood that smeared his head from a blow. “Demy!” Tears blurred my vision.
His violet eyes burned bright as he tried to shift, but the silver chains stopped him. He struggled and screamed against the tape.
“Shush. Wait.” I pried the tape off with my fingers, expecting a thank you.
Instead his eyes widened and a vicious snarl ripped out his mouth. “Rubi, behind you…”
I didn’t get a chance to turn around before a sharp, agonizing pain exploded through my body. A scream tore from my mouth so loud it shook the room. Red filled my gaze—or it might have been the blood spilling down my white shirt from the wooden stake protruding out my chest.
Shit. Someone staked me!
I am the worst vampire ever. I swear.
Chapter 31
Thick, heavy restraints bit into my wrists, arms, and legs. The smell of sweat, blood, and fear permeated the air laced with a familiar amber scent. My eyes slowly fluttered open to a bright, stark lab.
Oh man. Not again.
Memories of following Sara into the lab to find Demy only to get staked assaulted my mind. Why did I always find myself knocked out and tied up by the enemy? This time I wasn’t even the intended target. Demy was.
Anger coiled through my chest and I growled—or at least tried. Pain racked my insides, exploding through my chest and my growl morphed into a cry of agony. A mass of bright crimson stained my white shirt with the healing wound beneath the chaos.
Ouch!
A vicious growl echoed through the room, one that I could never emulate. Demy was struggling wildly on the table to no avail. “Touch her again and I will fucking eat your heart while you watch!” His eyes were brilliant purple and pupils in slits, his voice sending shivers across my body.
“Ah, she’s awake.” Headmaster Morgan came to stand in front me, his hands crossed behind his back and a satisfactory smile on his face, deepening the crinkles around his brown eyes. “I always expected you to be human or at least part.”
Dread sank into my chest, freezing my blood. Maybe it was my psychic abilities or simply my intuition giving me chills when we first met, warning me. The pictures of his grandsons in his office entered my mind, their steely faces and hunting attire obvious clues. They were hunters for sure—they just didn’t hunt deer.
I shook my head at my idiocy.
The star shaped scar on Headmaster Morgan’s arm should have been a red flag. Maybe his grandson accidently stabbed him with a stake.
“You’re a hunter.” My voice echoed flatly in the lab.
“Ding, ding princess.”
“You piece of shit!” Demy snarled. “You were my father’s friend for years. How could you betray us like this?”
The headmaster shrugged indifferently. “This project was long term. I have great stamina.”
My stomach churned with sickness. If my suspicious feeling about him were right, what about…?
The door behind me opened, his scent hitting me before he appeared. Professor Reilly sidled up to the headmaster, his light green eyes beaming while the bright fluorescents shined on his downy white hair. “I thought she’d be out longer.”
A growl snaked out my mouth.
And the award for dumbest psychic/vampire goes to…
For crying out loud, I thought. He has a sword in his office and he’s
built like a linebacker! Headmaster Morgan was scrawny and older, clearly past his fighting days, but Professor Reilly could probably still kick ass.
He reached forward, petting my head like dog. I snapped at his chubby fingers, but he yanked them back before I could land a bite. “Oh, testy.” He shook his head incredulously and smirked down at me. “I still can’t believe the story was true,” he said to Headmaster Morgan. “The little half-breed mutt Sara Oliver really did continue her bloodline.”
The two men laughed, spurring my anger. Unfortunately I couldn’t do much chained to a damn metal chair. I’m strong, but I’m not Superman.
My eye narrowed on them. “You know the hunters in Salem tried something like this with the vampires, some crazy plan to easily kill us.”
The headmaster pivoted and walked toward a row of long dark cabinets along the far wall. “Yes. We know. That group was charged with the vampires.” He pulled out a white lab coat, slipping his arms through the sleeves. “We were assigned to the shifters.”
“My father trusted all of you!”
Professor Reilly patted Demy’s foot, laughing when he snarled. “We knew it was smart to get a strong hold in the school back when it first opened. We even had a few Professors on our payroll then. William was a good visionary.”
Bile entered my mouth at his compliment toward that twisted man. The only vision William had was death and torture. I felt the length of his blade more than I’d like to remember and to listen to this man describe him like he was a godsend made me want to rip his throat open.
Where the hell was Sara? And Madison? I could really use her Patrick Swayze-ness.
“Whatever it is you thought up won’t work,” I said, struggling against the restrains a little more actively now that my chest wasn’t on fire. “You do know what happened with the so-called vampire weapon right?”
Headmaster Morgan marched closer with a tray in his hand. “Yes, but we’ve been at this a lot longer than them. We had our weapon all ready to go until that little psychic had ruined everything.” He pulled on a pair of latex gloves, snapping them each with an ominous echoing sound. He picked up a needle filled with pale yellow liquid. “But we’ve perfected the poison now.”
