Nevermore, the Complete Series

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Nevermore, the Complete Series Page 29

by K. A. Poe


  As I drifted, my mind began to wonder if I had made the right decision. Salem had once told me that when he became a vampire, his memories of being human were vague...would I, too, be stripped of my memories? Would I forget who I had been?

  Would I forget Salem? As I thought his name, I could feel his cold lips against my wrist. What if he couldn't control himself, what if the taste of my blood was too much? I felt something stab into me as he warily pierced the skin on my arm.

  What if I didn't survive? I heard myself scream as his fangs sunk deep into my vein. I felt the warm blood flowing up through my skin. Then, I felt nothing.

  16. CLOUDED

  Feeling returned. It was dull, numb and far way. There was a mild burning in my arm; my mind couldn't focus on anything but that. I could not see – my eyes may not even have been open. There were no sounds, just the slight discomfort.

  The silence was broken immediately when I heard the distant screaming. No. It wasn't distant at all. It was coming from me. The burning evolved into a piercing, unbearable pain all throughout my body. I could barely feel myself jerking around as I tried to escape whatever was hurting me. Something strong and cold held me still. A soothing voice promised everything would be okay. Was it the voice of the creature that was hurting me? No. Something so sweet, so sincere couldn't possess this power.

  The burning returned, only this time it was more than a slight irritation in my arm. It felt as though the blood in my veins had been drained, replaced with battery acid. I twisted and contorted, fighting against my own molten core. Every inch of my skin felt as though needles were being dug into my body. The more I fought to get away from the pain, the harder I was held down.

  I fought against the cold weight, fought to squirm and wriggle in agony as the pain intensified. I heard another voice – thick, masculine, afraid – begging that it be over quick. Then, a vile laughter caught my attention; it was endless. This must have been the sound of the monster upon me. That was the only explanation.

  The darkness slowly faded. I could see a dim light above. The voices grew louder, closer. The pain was still there, but my body had become numb to it. The monster was still pinning me down, and I knew it was the cause of my pain. Fighting for my own survival I screamed and kicked at it.

  “It will pass quicker if you don't fight it, Alex,” the soothing voice came again. It was close to me, so close I could smell it. It smelled fresh, sweet...like water, chamomile, something else I couldn't quite place. It reminded me somewhat of the smell of old books.

  My surroundings became clearer. The dim light was now a bright radiant orb in the deep blue sky; however it did not hurt my eyes to stare into its intense, resplendent glow. There was a face near me; it seemed familiar, yet peculiar at the same time. The crimson of his eyes caught my attention instantly.

  “How do you feel?” the consoling voice asked again. This could not have been the creature whose laugh had taunted my agony.

  I blinked. How did I feel? Lost. Confused. Uncertain. Terrified. Pain incarnate. I could have come up with a list of thousands of words to describe the way I felt, but I couldn't find my voice. I turned my head away from the crimson-eyed figure, spotting two more bodies. One of them was slumped over against a wall, the other standing guard beside it as if waiting for it to attack at any moment.

  With a gasp, my memories came flooding into my head. Janet. Desmond. Mark. Salem. Paul. Jason. Karen. Claire – no, Hannah. Last, but not least, I remembered who I was. The simple, brunette-haired girl from Willowshire, Colorado who less than a year prior discovered she wasn't at all who she thought she was. A vampire hunter, who fell in love with a vampire.

  “Salem...” I whispered, my eyes falling back on the familiar yet peculiar young man beside me. His face lit up when I spoke his name. The crimson eyes were still there – brighter than I had ever seen them before.

  “How do you feel?” he repeated, running a hand across my forehead.

  “Cold,” I replied in a hoarse voice, my body shivering as I spoke. Of all the adjectives, that one best described how I now felt. The hot, agonizing burn was now a vague feeling. I felt as though I were lying in a tub of ice. My body shook once more. “Why is it so cold?” I asked, staring back up at the sun.

  “You will get used to it...” he muttered quietly, “what do you remember?”

  “Everything,” I responded, peering downward at my body. My instincts told me to scream, but I somehow remained calm as I stared at the mess. Two ribs protruded from my side, a large gash tore across my abdomen, and blood was pouring from two small dots on my wrist. I watched in amazement as the wounds slowly closed, the ribs gradually fell back into place. “Shouldn’t I be ravenously hungry…or something?” I asked as I sat upright.

  Salem helped me sit, although I felt perfectly strong enough to manage on my own. “No, why? Are you?” he sounded mildly concerned.

  I shook my head. “No, that's just what I was expecting.”

  His lips curved into a gentle smile, “Can you stand yet?”

  “I think so,” I replied and let him help me to my feet. I didn't feel even the slightest bit wobbly or weak.

  “I want to test something. Try not to be alarmed.” He spoke calmly. I watched his eyes twinkle violet and a small knife appeared in his left hand.

  “What are you going to do with that?!”

  “You said that my suffering triggers your ability to phase,” he replied, and to my horror he drove the knife into his stomach before I had the chance to stop him. I stared in disbelief at him, but the familiar feeling of changing didn't occur. He groaned and tugged the knife from his flesh. “Why aren't you changing, Alex?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  “I-I don't know,” I stuttered, “Maybe I can’t anymore.”

  “Focus,” he whispered, tossing the knife aside. “Imagine yourself as the raven flying over the lake and back to me. Please.”

  Why was he so desperate for me to alter my appearance? Perhaps he was afraid he had taken not only my life, but my purpose away from me. I shut my eyes tightly and envisioned a raven ascending into the air, its vibrant wings glistening against the sunlight as they guided the bird across the majestic body of water. It took only a moment for me to realize my eyes were no longer shut and the fowl I saw was my reflection across the water's surface.

  Salem stared in awe, and I noticed that Paul had taken his eyes off of Hannah to glance at me as well. I did an impressive flip and escalated higher into the air before diving down and landing gently on Salem's shoulder. I nuzzled my small head against his black hair and he reached a hand up to caress my soft feathers.

  “I was so afraid that I had stolen this from you,” he said quietly, “something does worry me, however.”

  “What?” I nearly fell off of his shoulder at the sound of my voice. I can't speak in raven-form! Perhaps I was only hearing my voice inside my mind. That was the only logical explanation...but the expression on his face made me doubtful.

  “Well, first of all – that was unexpected,” he whispered as he stared at me with shocked, troubled eyes. “I don't believe I even saw your beak move...”

  “So...you can hear me?” I blinked my beady black eyes at him, crooking my head sideways.

  “Quite clearly,” he replied, “what concerns me, though, is you shouldn't be so focused, so capable. Newborn vampires are practically drones to begin with; I believe that might be what affects our human memories. Yet you seem to have forgotten nothing, and you are showing signs of powers you didn't previously possess...”

  “Does that scare you?”

  “No,” he gave me a half-smile, “not entirely, at least.”

  My gaze tore away from Salem's expression and trailed across the field of grass until they met Paul's. He looked not only distraught, but exhausted. Hannah, now seemingly unconscious, stirred slightly at his feet. My wings spread out at my sides and I pulled away from Salem's shoulder and glided over to my father. With one swift, painless movement I felt my b
ody alter into its regular form.

  “You should go home, dad,” I said calmly as I placed a hand on his arm, “or at least go inside and lie down. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

  Before I had any opportunity to react, Paul threw his thick arms around me in a tight hug. I could smell the salt of his tears as they fell upon my shoulder. I hugged him back, with one eye locked on Hannah. “I was so afraid I had lost you, Alex,” he bawled. It was strange seeing him like this, especially given his usual tough demeanor.

  “Well...I'm okay, dad,” I replied awkwardly, letting him relieve himself of the pain and suffering he had to endure. I couldn't imagine what it must have been like for him, watching his daughter come so close to death and then witness me becoming one of his enemies. “I’m okay now, really. Go get some rest.”

  Paul released me slowly, wiped at his strained eyes and nodded. I directed him to the back door and watched him stumble up the stairs and into the house.

  17. HANNAH

  Once Paul was completely out of sight, I approached Hannah's slouched body. Delicately, I plucked each slender arrow from her skin; she flinched at each removal. Her eyes were beginning to open again, and I could tell that she was shocked to see me. Part of me knew I should be afraid, but I didn't feel even an ounce of fear.

  “I'm surprised the venom didn’t kill you,” I commented as she lifted her head up to face mine. Her scent was stronger than ever before – hidden beneath the luscious vanilla was something foul. Salem had smelled so sweet in comparison, while her aroma reminded me of metal and burning wood. She looked bewildered and I smirked. “This isn't turning out at all how you had planned, is it?”

  Her head shook. “You’re supposed to be dead! I killed you!” she barked.

  “Salem saved me.”

  “So, the hunter has become the hunted!” she laughed.

  “Now, we have to figure out what to do with you,” I snarled, fighting the urge to tear her apart. “The only reason you’re not dead right now is because of your brother. I would kill you where you lie if it wasn’t for him.”

  “What, you think I’m afraid of you?”

  “You should be,” Salem said, approaching us quietly and crouching down beside me. “Hannah...I will never find it in me to forgive you for what you have done, but I will give you a second chance. Try to see my side of things, please.”

  “You are such an insignificant coward, Salem. What part of 'I enjoy this' did you not understand the first time?”

  “Who is to say you wouldn't enjoy living like I do?” he said flatly. “Think back to before any of this happened. Remember mom, Arthur, Daniel,” he spoke Raziel's true name with contempt, “remember how happy things were back then...”

  I noticed a slight change in her expression – fondness. “Those times are gone, Salem.”

  “Yes, they are,” he replied sadly, “however, there are families all around us that still have that. They still have each other; they still have the joy of life,” his voice was light and gentle, “think back to when that was taken from us, from you. Daniel may have elongated your time on earth, but look at everything he took away from you. Who are we to feed on these humans, to take away their lifetime of family and precious moments?”

  “You did the same to your little raven,” she interjected, “you took everything she could ever have in life from her!”

  “That's where you are mistaken, Hannah,” I said. “He gave me everything I could ever want in life. Had he not done this I would be dead.”

  “Why would you of all people want this existence? You are a killer of our kind. Why would you even allow him to make you into that which you hate?”

  “I don’t hate your kind, only the ones who kill people. Not all of your kind is evil, Hannah,” I replied. “Salem has shown me without a doubt that there can be good, even in a vampire. As far as wanting to be like this, well…for the longest time I was haunted with the idea of growing old while Salem ceased to age, ceased to change. I nearly begged him to change me, but he told me nothing was worth such a life – including him.”

  “What changed his mind?” she stared at me awkwardly.

  “The fact that you nearly killed her!” Salem said angrily, “I couldn't bear to live without her, Hannah. I believe if Daniel had been given the chance, he would have done the same for mom...”

  “But instead, he picked you, Hannah,” I said as the realization came over me. “He couldn't bear to be without you. He loved you.”

  “The only downfall of that is he let you become corrupted by his ways,” Salem said with a frown. “If only I had known you were still alive...I spent years believing you were dead, when in fact I could have helped you long ago.”

  Hannah appeared distracted, barely listening to what her half-brother was saying. She sniffed the air, and then lunged at me without warning. I pushed her back with a strength I hadn't previously possessed. My hands gripped tightly around her wrists as she fought to reach my throat.

  “She isn't one of us, Salem!” she wailed, “Don't you smell it? Can't you hear it?”

  As her words sunk in I nearly lost my grip on her. I tuned out all other noises but the rhythmic yet faint thumping in my chest. “Salem?” I eyed him pleadingly for an answer. He looked just as befuddled as I felt. “What does this mean? How is this possible?”

  Hannah relaxed somewhat and I released her. She eyed me closely, suspiciously. “Something in her blood is stopping her from completely turning.”

  “Does this mean I am going to die, or that I'm not a vampire, or...” I began rambling, my mind full of questions and concerns.

  “I don't know what it means, Alex,” Salem said quietly, “all I know is you're alive, and for now that is all that matters.”

  I couldn't agree to that. My questions needed answers, but I knew of no one that could help me. Even Paul, who knew so much about vampire and hunter history, had no idea because something like this was unheard of.

  “Father would have known,” Hannah commented coldly, “it's such a shame that you killed him!”

  “You would have done the same thing had you been in my position,” Salem argued harshly. “Now, are you going to take me up on my offer or am I going to have to kill you, too?”

  Hannah's topaz eyes lingered on her half-brother's face for a moment. “I'm not making you any promises,” she replied.

  “You don't have to. Just try it, and if you don't like it...” he paused, regret in his eyes, “we will let you go.”

  “Right, you will just let me go?” she laughed. “I don't believe that for a second.”

  “I promise, Hannah. What other choice do you have? Would you truly rather die than have to live off of animals?”

  “Maybe,” she glowered.

  Salem rolled his eyes, which I noticed had finally returned to their natural pale blue. “Try it, Hannah. You might find that you enjoy it, after all.”

  “Fine,” she replied bitterly.

  “Good. Now, let us go inside and you can tell me all about your abilities.”

  I was shocked that he had found it so easy to forgive Hannah, so easy to give her that second chance. Had it been my sister, would I have done the same thing? I really wasn't sure. There were other, more important things on my mind as I followed slowly behind Salem and Hannah into the Victorian. As much faith as I had in Salem, I didn’t trust her, and wasn’t sure I ever could.

  When we walked inside, Paul was strewn across the sectional, snoring loudly. We passed by him and entered the kitchen. I watched Hannah warily, noting her every move. She appeared surprisingly uninterested in the scent of Paul's blood – I wondered how long that would last.

  18. RECOLLECTION

  Sitting across from Hannah at the dining table was awkward, not only because she was a blood-thirsty vampire but also because I had witnessed moments from her past and I felt almost as if I knew her. Not to mention the fact that she about killed me mere hours earlier. Salem sat beside me, his hand resting on my own. W
e were both tense, carefully observing the golden-haired girl.

  “What do you want to know?” she asked, tapping her long nails against the table surface. I noticed the distinct British accent in her voice arising as she spoke, now that her true identity had been revealed. It caused me to wonder how long it took her to teach herself to speak without it.

  “Everything,” Salem said somewhat enthusiastically, “from the moment Raz...Daniel...took you from the house.”

  “I haven’t thought of any of this in a very long time…brace yourselves for a long story,” Hannah smirked. It was relieving to see her in a calm, friendly mood but I was still cautious, worrying that at any moment she could strike. “I can vaguely remember the fire. You were sleeping in my bedroom that night because I had a nightmare. Something woke me, and Daniel was standing in my room. Before I knew what was happening he stole me away from the house. As I looked back I could see the smoke, and the red glow. I was horrified, but he assured me that everything would be okay – that you would be okay.

  “He took me to a small house far away – he was unbelievably fast! After tucking me away safely inside and insisting that I stay put, he said he would save you, too. I never saw you, but he swore you were safe. He told me that Arthur and Margaret perished in the fire, and he held me as I cried myself to sleep.

  “The following morning, he told me that he would protect me, no matter what. He said it wasn't going to be easy for him, that part of him wanted to hurt me more than I could even imagine. What way is that to speak to a child? I was frightened, of course, but I stayed with him. What choice did I have, being only three at the time? He stayed with me as often as he could, only leaving when I was asleep or otherwise occupied with toys.

  “Years had passed, and eventually I could fend for myself. Daniel would leave for hours, sometimes days, at a time – but he never failed to come back. I never saw or spoke to another person during the thirteen years he kept me there, but he took care of me. He treated me like the daughter he viewed me as. It wasn't until my sixteenth birthday that he finally told me who he really was,” she paused, appearing deep in thought, “he told me what happened between him and Mother, and how she refused to tell me that he was my true father. Instead, she made me believe I was imagining him. I will admit that for a long time I hated her for keeping the secret from me.

 

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