by K. A. Poe
“Of course, I was,” he replied gently then lowered me onto the muddied ground. He crumbled my gravestone into pieces with one swift kick. I stared at him in awe as he pushed Raziel's body into the pit that had been originally intended for me. Salem's eyes flashed purple and a mound of dirt appeared, filling the hole.
“Your wound...” I whispered hoarsely, “Is it healed?”
“Not yet, but that's not important. Let's get you to a doctor. You have lost a lot of blood, and need your leg checked out,” he said as he lifted me up once more.
28. RECOVERY
I had thought the fracture in my leg was the worst of the damage, but I was mistaken. It was amazing how oblivious I was to the severe blood loss. The trip to the hospital was a mystery to me; Salem explained that I had passed out along the way and was unconscious for nearly three days. The doctor had given me a blood transfusion to recover some of the lost fluid – he assumed it was caused from the severe gashes in my leg and Salem nor I bothered to tell him otherwise. He was, however, somewhat skeptical of the bizarre bite mark on my throat. I insisted I was bit by an animal during an afternoon hike and fallen down an embankment, but he seemed unconvinced. They ran a few tests to ensure I wasn't infected with any diseases from the bite and all of the results were clear. I was just grateful that they released me. I loathed hospitals almost as much as I hated gym class. When I exited the hospital room, donning my new set of metal crutches, I was shocked to find Paul sitting in the waiting room. My instincts told me to retreat and walk in the other direction, but it was too late – he had seen me.
“Alex, please don't go!” he stood up from the plastic chair and rushed to my side. “I know we’ve been on rough terms lately, but I had to see you.”
“How did you even know I was here?” I grumbled, leaning my weight uncomfortably on the crutch the doctor had provided.
“Salem called me, actually...” he stared down at his feet. “This would be the second time he saved your life. I think I owe him an apology, Alex.”
“Well, I'm glad you finally got that through your thick skull.”
“I'm trying to be civil here. Could you at least try to hear me out?” he sighed with frustration.
“Whatever, Paul,” I didn't meet his eyes. “You’ll at least be glad to know Raziel is dead – also thanks to Salem.”
“He told me all about that, too,” he sighed. “This isn't going to be easy for me, Alex, but I think over time I can come to accept your relationship with him.”
My eyes finally met his. “Are you serious?”
He nodded his head slowly, “I think so, anyway. I never imagined a vampire could feel so strongly for a human, but I can see – and hear – the way he cares about you.”
“He’s more in touch with his human half than the vampire in him,” I said as Paul opened the hospital doors for me.
My face brightened when I saw Salem leaning against the side of the building, drenched in the pouring rain. The moisture plastered his ebony hair to his scalp, and beads of water trickled down his pale face. He looked relieved to see me, but a little anxious at Paul's presence. Surprisingly, to both of us, Paul offered my arm to Salem. My father took one of my crutches so that Salem could intertwine his cold arm with mine and he led me to the Wrangler parked far off into the lot.
When we were in the car, Salem sat in the back with me, holding my hand tightly in his. Paul peeked back at us, a smug look on his face. I began to worry if he had sincerely meant he was going to try to accept our relationship. As we rode along the street, I leaned my head tiredly against Salem's cold, wet shoulder and shut my eyes.
I was barely asleep when I heard the voices – part of me was unsure if I was conscious or not.
“I think I owe you an apology, Salem,” Paul muttered, barely audible over the rush of wind and splattering rain against the windshield.
“You are forgiven,” he muttered in response, caressing my hair gently. “I understand your reasons.”
“It's not going to be easy to get used to.”
“I understand that, too,” Salem replied in a hushed voice, obviously not wanting to disturb me.
“Salem,” Paul spoke just as quietly, “I give you the benefit of the doubt, but if you ever so much as scratch her...well, let's just say I won't miss next time.”
“You have nothing to worry about.”
My eyes barely opened when the car pulled to a stop outside of the Victorian. Salem nudged me gently on the shoulder in attempt to wake me. “We're home,” he whispered into my ear.
I sat up and stretched my stiffened arms, smiling happily at the sight of the welcoming doors. Salem helped me out of the car and acted as my support, leading me up the alabaster stairs slowly and steadily.
“You are welcome to come inside, Paul,” he hollered back at my father who still sat in the Jeep, his expression blank.
He hesitated before leaving the vehicle and following us into the glorious house. A shimmer of regret crossed his face as he eyed the stained glass windows on the door. As he opened his mouth to speak, Salem silenced him.
“I know. You are sorry for the windows, also.”
“You can't read minds, can you?” Paul laughed darkly.
“No,” Salem smirked, looking back at Paul. “You're just somewhat predictable.”
“Which is why I’ve never been able to kill you I guess,” Paul grumbled.
“Dad!” I shouted, “That's enough.”
“Sorry, Alex. Old habits die hard, y'know?” Paul frowned, “But I’m tryin’.”
“Thank you. That is all I ask for.”
“What would you like to eat, my little raven?” Salem asked as he lowered me onto the sectional. His eyes twinkled violet momentarily and a plump pillow appeared in his hands. He gently placed my fractured leg against the pillow. I smiled gratefully, and watched my father gaze around the house. He was clearly mesmerized. But who could blame him?
“I'll have whatever Paul wants,” I said with a sly grin.
Salem looked uneasy. “I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Alex,” he muttered.
“What isn't? Paul asked as he entered the vast living room. He was momentarily distracted by the white grand piano in the corner. “Ah, I see what she really likes about you.”
Salem laughed delicately.
“Dad, if you could have anything to eat right now – what would it be?” I asked, ignoring them.
“Steak and a baked potato!” he answered quickly. “Why? Does Salem have his own chef to go with this mansion of a house or something?” he scoffed.
“Not exactly, no,” I grinned. “Go on, Salem...”
Salem frowned at me, then I saw the mystical purple highlights in his eyes and he gestured for Paul to look into the dining room. Upon the dining table were two plates, each with a steaming hot potato with all the toppings imaginable nestled beside a large steak. My father stared in awe at the food, his jaw gaping open.
“How?” he mumbled, his eyes focused now on Salem.
“There is more to me than just being a vampire,” Salem grimaced somewhat.
Paul shook his head in disbelief. “Amazing...” he whispered. “What else can you do?”
“That's about it.”
I smiled to myself, happy to see they were getting along – at least a little, anyway. Salem brought me my plate and helped me sit up. “Thank you,” I smiled and pecked him on the cheek while Paul delved into his meal. I picked at mine, somewhat wishing I had chosen something of my own – steak wasn't among my favorite foods, but the potato was delicious.
“Salem?” I said quietly, eying my dad in the kitchen. “Did you have any idea about Hannah being Daniel – Raziel’s daughter?”
He shook his head and scowled. “That's not something I ever expected...I don't even want to think about it.”
“What do you think he meant by all that stuff he said to you?”
“I don't know, Alex...” he sighed, appearing thoughtful. “Perhaps I never will quite understa
nd that, now.”
“And...My future,” I gasped. “What do you suppose he saw?”
“I don't know that, either,” this time he smiled, “but we will have plenty of time to find out.”
After I finished my meal, I grudgingly let sleep overcome me as my father asked Salem all about his bizarre summoning abilities.
29. NEVERMORE
When I awoke the next morning, Paul was gone and Salem was nowhere to be seen. I sighed heavily with disappointment; I wouldn't be able to get up on my own and would have to wait for Salem to return from wherever he happened to be. As I thought this over, the front doors flew open and he was walking gracefully through them. He came to my side at once and pulled me into his arms.
“Do you need anything?” he asked, staring at my injured leg remorsefully.
“I could use help getting to the bathroom,” I groaned, knowing this would include him carrying me upstairs. “What were you doing outside?”
“I was saying farewell to your father. He stayed throughout the night to ensure you were okay,” he smiled, lifted me into his arms and rushed me up the spiraling stairs. He helped me through the restroom door and I insisted I could take care of the rest myself, although I wasn't completely sure of that. I could hear him shuffling around behind the door while he waited for me. I took care of the persistent nagging of my bladder, washed my hands, and then quickly brushed my teeth, leaning against the counter for support.
He was waiting with his arms outstretched and a wide smile when I opened the door. I allowed him to carry me down the stairs but was surprised when he didn't take me toward the sofa. Instead, he swung my legs over the bench in front of the piano and sat beside me. I looked at him inquisitively as he placed his hands over mine and guided them to the keys.
“Play that tune for me, one more time,” he requested after kissing me softly.
“Okay,” I breathed and flexed my fingers. He kept his cold hands upon mine, following them as they sped along the ivory. The song felt somehow sadder to me now than I had ever realized. I don't think I had ever actually listened to the music as it pulsed through my fingers into the instrument. I was always too focused on playing the piece that I forgot to take the time to truly hear, and feel, the emotion behind it. I shut my eyes, allowing a warm drop of moisture to slip across my cheek as thoughts started welling inside my mind. It went unnoticed as Salem's eyes were focused on the movement of my hands.
Once the music faded, I collapsed into his arms. He didn't understand why I had begun bawling, and I didn't take the chance to explain it to him. He simply held me, which was all I wanted, all I needed at that moment. The realization of all that had happened within the last few months came back to me through the song all at once – losing my mother – twice – gaining a father, dropping out of school, nearly dying, falling in love... I wiped my eyes and looked into his piercing blue stare, which darted back and forth from my face to the piano.
“I had never noticed how beautiful it is,” I said between what was a mixture of a sob and a laugh.
Salem merely smiled and held my face in both hands, “Nor had I,” but he wasn't talking about the music as he stared longingly at my face. He kissed me tenderly once more, and then pulled away. “What do you call that tune, anyway?”
I thought for a moment, and then my lips curved into a simple smile. “Nevermore.”
Hybrid
NEVERMORE
Book Two
1. REFLECTIONS
As if being a vampire hunter hadn’t been bad enough, there was also the dilemma of being in love with the enemy. Fortunately, he was nothing like the rest of them. He was gentle, more in touch with his human side, and feasted on the blood of animals instead of humans. While that was comforting, I couldn't help but worry that something could corrupt him...like it had my foster mother's boyfriend, who turned out to be a vampire. He was like Salem, unwilling to feed on humans, until Janet cut herself one day and he lost control.
Salem had been around me plenty of times when I was bleeding and never showed any interest, but that worry was always there. Then there was the other concern that I tried to ignore every time it slipped into my mind—what if I ever did something to hurt him? I was capable, beyond capable. It wasn't something that I would ever want to do, but I had powers that I couldn't completely control.
The ability to become a raven was something that ran in my genes, however it was rare. I was only the fourth Waldron known to possess the 'gift', as my father, Paul, called it. However, I wasn't quite to the stage of being able to do it at will. It most often occurred when I was around a vampire, or was in danger, and I phased easily in and out of shape. Paul thought the more I let it happen naturally the better I would be able to control it. Salem and I were both hesitant to attempt that, considering it would involve me being in danger. But, I finally felt ready to give it a shot, especially if hunting was going to become a regular routine in my life. The better I was at it, the less blood-sucking monsters there would be lurking around the world, and the less innocent people like Janet—my foster mom—would die. I could only imagine how many there were out there. Salem and his Sire, Raziel, had come from England before traveling to America. The thought made my mind whirl at the possibilities. If a few vampires could find their way into the quiet little town of Willowshire, then they could be anywhere...everywhere.
That night I was to meet Paul and my aunt Kim in the cemetery—one of the last places I wanted to go. Less than six months ago, I had nearly died there at the hands of Raziel. I was extremely lucky to have survived with just a fractured leg and a few scratches, as well as a very conspicuous mark on my throat that left an unsightly scar. Every morning I struggled to cover it with a layer of makeup, or ensure I was wearing a shirt or hoodie that hid the evidence. My leg had healed up nicely and I was thankfully capable of walking without crutches after only a couple of months. If it hadn't been for Salem...my mind whirled again at the possibilities.
I sighed and rested my head against the cool pillow behind me. I was alone in the massive canopy bed in Salem's bedroom. It was without a doubt the most comfortable piece of furniture imaginable. The mattress was plush, draped in ebony silk, and wide enough that I could spread out in any position I wanted—which, at that moment, was curled up in a ball worrying about the meeting.
Salem was out hunting, probably sucking the life out of a poor little rabbit in the forest beyond the large Victorian that I had begun to call home. It still bothered me to some extent that he had to kill innocent animals to survive, but I favored that idea over the unthinkable alternative.
As I laid there my mind began to reflect on the past eight months of my life—a life that had changed drastically. I had discovered my parents were not truly my parents. The man whom I thought was my Uncle Paul for the past eighteen years turned out to be my real father. I learned that my birth mother had been slain by a vampire less than a year after I was born—the same vampire that had turned my beloved Salem. After this, Paul gave me up for adoption to Janet and Desmond Hobbs in the hopes of protecting me from the monster. He had only one condition, once I turned ‘the appropriate age’, which turned out to be eighteen by Janet's standards, the truth was to be revealed to me. Desmond and Janet weren't aware that this included the fact I was part of a lineage of vampire hunters, however. And then, I met Salem, a dashing, brilliant young man who turned out to be a vampire and apparently part warlock, which to begin with was something I couldn't quite accept but I learned to adjust—especially after Paul revealed to me who and what I was.
Janet abandoned me to live with her new boyfriend, Mark, in Denver, who turned out to also be a member of the undead. Salem had insisted that Mark wouldn't hurt Janet, but it turned out he was wrong. I took a trip to Denver with Paul and Kimberly to make sure Janet was safe, but we were too late. I had lost the only mother figure I had ever known, and witnessed my first vampire slaying. That means both of my mothers, my real one and my foster one, had been taken from me by the da
mned creatures. Salem was very lucky that he wasn't like the rest of them or else he would be on my kill list. I was fortunate. During all of this, I had put off celebrating any holidays I had formerly loved. Halloween was a little out of my age-range now that I was eighteen, so I wasn't bothered with dressing up and going out for free candy regardless how tempting that was. Thanksgiving and Christmas came and went almost as if they were just ordinary days. Without Janet around, it seemed hardly like holidays could even exist anymore. Paul tried to make it feel festive during Christmas by bringing a few presents by Salem's house. He practically begged Salem to summon a fir tree and some decorations. We all hung the ornaments and Paul draped the lights around the tree. Despite his efforts however, it still didn't feel quite right and I don't believe it ever will again.
I was suddenly pulled away from my memories when Salem peeked in through the bedroom door. He walked gracefully across the mirrored floor towards the bed, making me smile more with each step. He sat gently on the bed and I tried to ignore the hint of crimson in his otherwise pale blue eyes, evidence that he had indeed found something to snack on. Knowing this made me uncomfortable; he attempted to avoid looking directly into my eyes.
“I was hoping you would still be asleep when I returned,” he said quietly, flattening the creases in the sheets.
“Why?” I asked, watching his pale hands slide across the slick black material.
“To avoid you seeing me like this, and so I could lay with you,” he looked at me once, briefly, to smile.
“I don't have to be asleep for you to lay with me, Salem.”
“No, but you looked so comfortable and at peace,” he smiled again and moved closer, cuddling up against me. I recoiled at first at the touch of his cool skin, then scooted back against him. "You seem distant Alex, is something wrong?"
“I was afraid you would notice,” I grumbled. He always did. That boy could read me like a book, no matter how hard I tried to hide my thoughts or feelings. Part of me wondered if this was another of his mysterious abilities.
