Destined to Kill: A Destined Novel (Destined Novels Book 1)

by Jourdyn Kelly

  "I'm still alive," I say, though even to my own ears, I don't sound very convinced. "I'm sorry I worried everyone." I sit on the couch and push my hand through my hair–which I'm pretty sure resembles a birds nest. Zac sits next to me, and puts his hand on my thigh. Normally I would push his hand away knowing how he'd like to cop a feel, but there was nothing sexual in the touch. It was–concern.

  "I'm worried about you, Ana. At first, I thought you were just playing hooky. No one to get on to you since you're emancipated, right? Amanda told me how you were freaked out by Galloway, so I thought maybe you just wanted to stay away for a while. But, when we weren't able to get a hold of you...you should've answered your phone."

  His reprimand reminds me that I still haven't found my phone. "I don't know where it is," I tell him wearily.

  "I'll dial it," he says softly and takes his phone back from me. He punches a number and waits. "It's ringing."

  I get up and walk around the small apartment trying to listen for it, but hear nothing. If it has been two days, the battery could be dead or I could've left it on vibrate. Whatever the case, I don't hear it. "It's okay," I shrug. "I'm sure I'll find it." With days missing out of my memory, not knowing where my cell phone was is the least of my problems. "Listen, Zac, don't tell Amanda about this."

  He walks over to me. "If something is wrong, she'll want to help."

  "I don't even know what's wrong. Let me figure it out first, then I'll tell her. Tonight is really important to her and I don't want to mess it up."

  "You sure?" Zac doesn't look convinced that he shouldn't say anything to my best friend about my lapse in memory.

  "I'm sure. Just tell her that I lost my phone and I'm sorry I skipped out for a while." I think for a moment. "Tell her that what you thought was right. I just wanted to get away from Galloway."

  "Fine. But, I'm still worried about you, Ana. If this happens again, promise me you'll call me or go somewhere and get some help."

  "I promise." Zac's a couple of inches taller than me, so I have to get on my tiptoes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. Weakness - either from not eating or too much sleep - makes me fall into him. He catches me, but doesn't immediately let me go, and I don't make a move to get away. Instead, I reach up again and kiss his mouth.

  My kiss shocks him as much as it does me. But, I can't seem to help myself. It's like I don't have control of my actions. I deepen the kiss, moving my body into his. Even if he wanted to resist, I don't give him a chance. I tug him towards the couch and pull him down on top of me. This snaps Zac out of his shock, and he starts to become more enthusiastic with the kissing - and with his hands. My own actions become more intense, and I dig my hands in his hair as he kisses my neck, nipping it with his teeth. The feeling of his teeth scraping against my skin is erotic to me, and it releases that hunger in me that I have tried to suppress for many years. I can feel the change coming on. Of course, deep down, I knew it shouldn't be happening, but it doesn't stop me from feeling that familiar feeling. It's a feeling I hated, and have been so glad - and lucky - to be rid of. At least, I thought I had been rid of it. But, here, with Zac moving on top of me, kissing my neck, it takes over. My eyes fly open and I know, without seeing them, what they look like. I know they're white, rimmed with a blood red and hold a hunger in them that can never be fully satisfied. I pull his hair making him turn his neck towards my mouth. As I bare my teeth, ready to sink them in his golden skin I hear the words in my head.

  "Fight it, Anala!"

  "Stop!" The familiar voice snaps me out of my trance, and I push Zac away from me. Unfortunately, I don't check my strength, and the push has Zac flying off the couch, and into the wall. I try to calm myself, careful not to look Zac in the eyes. If how I feel is true - it couldn't be, could it - I don't want to take any chances of Zac noticing. I quickly get up and help him. "I'm sorry. You have to leave."

  I practically run to the door, dragging Zac behind me, and wrench it open. I try pushing him out of my apartment, but he's resisting.

  "Ana, wait! If I did something wrong, I'm sorry!"

  "You didn't do anything, Zac," I tell him sincerely. But, I can't look him in the eye to show him I meant it. If I have turned and he sees me, I would never be able to let him leave alive. "You just have to leave. Please!"

  "Ana..."

  "Go! Now!" The hunger is trying to overpower me, and my voice held the same power I had used against Amanda when she didn't listen to me today...or two days ago. I still couldn't believe that.

  Zac backs away from me and without another word, he turns and rushes out. "I'm sorry!" I call out and quickly shut the door. He's probably not going to forgive me for this, and I don't blame him. But, I couldn't risk hurting him. I walk slowly to the mirror that was hung near the door. Usually I use it to check my appearance before going out to school or hanging out with friends to make sure I was looking good. Now, I have to use it to make sure I'm not going crazy. Or, maybe hoping I am. I lift my eyes, and peer at myself. Other than tangled hair and deep shadows under my eyes, everything seems normal. I sigh. First with relief, then with utter confusion.

  "What is happening to you?" I ask my reflection. Perhaps it is time for another dose of papa's elixir. I haven't had to take it for years. I thought it's effects had become permanent when the uncontrollable hunger and need for blood eventually subsided. Of course, I still needed blood to sustain myself - I am Cursed - but I could also eat human food now to help the process. I kept bags of blood from the local blood bank for those urges that came during my weakest times, though it has not been this bad for decades.

  I make my way to the bathroom and turn on the shower. Two days gone with no idea what occurred. How does that happen? I glance once again at my reflection and grimace. A good looking guy in your apartment, ready and willing to have sex with you and you look like this? How does that happen?

  I feel a little more human (ha) after my shower. Even more so after I have something to eat. I try thinking about the last couple of days, or what I could remember of them, and all I can come up with is that the weird feeling Mr. Galloway gave me made me focus on my past. Focusing on my past has made me think about all of the feelings and changes I went through back then. That has to be why those feelings are so strong now. It's the only explanation.

  I curl up on the couch and flip through channels hoping to find something that will catch my interest and keep me awake. I'm not quite ready to go back to sleep yet. Who knows when I'd wake up this time.

  "Ana!" Amanda bangs on the door, yelling at the same time. Usually I am very tuned into my surroundings and I should've known she was here. Then again, things haven't been usual lately.

  I open the door and pull Amanda inside. "Are you crazy? It's after one in the morning! You're going to wake up everyone in the building!"

  "Sorry, sorry. I just came by to see for myself that you were okay." She was slurring her words a bit, and I could smell a hint of alcohol on her breath as she hugged me.

  "Are you drunk?"

  "What? No, of course not! I mean, I drank a little, but I'm not drunk." She giggles and plops on the couch. "So? Are you okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine. Did you talk to Zac?"

  "A little. He wasn't too happy, though. What happened? Robby tried to get him to say what was bothering him, but he didn't say. I mean, we didn't push that hard, 'cause we were, you know, at a party and all, but..."

  "I got it!" I snap.

  "Well, if you were this bitchy with him, then I understand what was wrong with him," Amanda frowns tipsily at me.

  "I'm not trying to be bitchy. I'm sorry, I'm just not feeling very well. Nothing happened between me and Zac." I sit down next to her and bump her shoulder trying to get her to stop frowning at me. "Tell me about this party. I thought you were going to the movies."

  "If you'd been at school or at least called me, you would've heard about the party. Everyone missed you. Especially the guys." Amanda giggles again like she just told the funniest joke.

/>   "How much did you really have to drink, Amanda?"

  "Not much. Really! But, maybe a little too much to go home. I kinda told my mom I was going to stay here."

  I quickly weigh the options in my head. If I have another 'episode'–that's the only thing I can think to call it–then she'd be here and could tell me what happened. On the flip side, if something was really wrong with me–really, really wrong with me and I can't control it–then I could possibly hurt Amanda.

  "It's fine if I stay here, right?"

  "Yes, it's fine." What else can I say? She's my best friend and she needs my help.

  "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I take back my bitchy comment!"

  I can't help but chuckle. "Are you hungry?"

  "Nah, there was pizza at the party." She yawns and I know there won't be any more conversation. There also won't be any television to keep me occupied. I bring Amanda her usual blanket and pillow she uses when she stays over and toss them to her.

  "Sleep off the booze, lush," I tease and leave her to get ready for bed. I sit on my own bed, still scared to lay down myself and sleep. "You never used to be this spineless," I chastise myself. Disgusted with myself, I turn off the light and lay down to sleep.

  "How long does a damn hangover last?"

  "I have no sympathy for you." I hide my grin from the whining Amanda and make her a cup of coffee. "I hear raw eggs and Tabasco helps."

  "Ugh! Shut up! You're making me sick," she moans and lays her forehead on the table.

  "This will teach you not to drink. You're not old enough to be drinking anyway." I sit her coffee down beside her.

  "You sound like an old lady," she teases. Funny thing is, I feel like an old lady after the last few days.

  "Drink some coffee. Maybe it'll help your head." I take a seat and study her. She looks pale from nausea, but I can still see a hint of a smile. "Do you want to talk about your night?"

  Amanda's smile widens and she lifts her head to take a sip from her cup, grimacing either at the heat or the taste, I'm not sure which. "It was amazing! Robby looked so cute! He told me I looked 'hot'. Can you imagine? He really likes me!"

  "Of course he does. Why wouldn't he?"

  "Please, Ana. Guys totally fall in love with you all the time, I mean, you're gorgeous, but me? It's not so easy for me."

  I'm not sure whether to feel flattered or sorry. "Amanda, stop it. You're a beautiful girl and fun to be around. Anyone who can't see that isn't worth your time. I'm glad Robby sees that in you. You've been crushing on him forever."

  "True, I have. I felt so great walking into the party with him. I finally have a boyfriend! I mean, I think I do. We haven't really talked about it yet, but we kissed!"

  "Well, if you kissed you must be dating." I grin at her.

  She goes on and on about her night, how Robby thought she was cool for playing drinking games with him, and holding hands with him and dancing. At the end of the long and very detailed description of the night, she finally eyes me suspiciously. "Anyway, tell me where you've been and what you've been doing. I can't believe you didn't tell me you were skipping out! You could've called me!"

  Here we go. The talk I've been dreading. But, knowing Amanda, I knew I wouldn't be able to avoid it. She had a knack for not forgetting things and being relentless when she wanted to know something.

  "I know, I know. I'm sorry. I lost my cell." It's not much of an explanation, but it's all I really know to be true. "I wasn't planning on skipping, I just didn't feel well. Besides, Galloway really did freak me out. I thought it'd be best if I just stayed away for a couple of days."

  Amanda doesn't look completely satisfied by my answer, but her head is pounding too hard to care. It has to hurt. I can see the pulse beating in her temples, can imagine the blood in her veins that ever so slightly protruded from her forehead. I feel the damn hunger rise in me, again, and I get up quickly to try to find something strong enough to distract me. I busy myself by pouring myself another cup of coffee and practically stick my nose in it, breathing in the bitter smell. It's not quite enough to mask the smell of blood, but it helps.

  "What's with you, Ana? You've been acting kind of weird lately."

  Leave it to Amanda to tell me exactly how she feels, I think grumpily.

  "I told you, I haven't been feeling well," I retort, immediately regretting my tone. "Sorry. I don't know what it is. I've been really tired and I've been having odd - cravings."

  Amanda's head snaps up. "Are you pregnant?"

  "Don't be ridiculous! Exactly how am I supposed to be pregnant? Unlike you, I don't even have a boyfriend."

  "Well, I don't know what you do here by yourself all the time. You could have orgies for all I know."

  "Orgies? Now would I do that and not invite you?"

  "Okay, eww." Amanda tilts her head and studies me for a bit. "Maybe you should go see a doctor."

  "Maybe." It's as non-committal as I can be and still give her an answer she would accept.

  "I thought your phone was missing." Amanda eyes me accusingly when we both hear a faint ringing coming from my living room.

  "It is–was! Ask Zac! I looked for it everywhere." I follow the sound and find my damn phone right under my coffee table! I know I looked there. Didn't I?

  "Right. Look, Ana, if you don't want to tell me something, then just don't tell me. You don't have to lie to me."

  "Amanda, seriously, I didn't lie..."

  "I'm going to go now. You really should go see a doctor, Ana. You're not acting like yourself."

  With that, Amanda walks out my front door. I know better than to go after her now. I'll let her cool down and talk to Zac to ask him about the phone situation. Everything will be okay with her when she hears I didn't lie. If not, I'll have to worry about that later. Right now, I have to figure out what the hell is going on in my life!

  I pick up my phone–still can't believe it's been here the whole time–and check it. There were tons of missed calls and texts from my friends. I already know what they say, so I don't bother going through them. I delete everything and set the phone down on the coffee table–in plain view - and hear the signal for a new text message.

  "That didn't take long," I say aloud. Amanda must've been on the phone with Zac the moment she walked out my door. But, it's not Amanda.

  I know who you are...Anala.

  The phone falls from my hand. I can't move. This must be what being in shock is like, and it's not a feeling I like. I haven't felt this out of control since I lost my parents. It is starting to piss me off. I will figure out what's going on, and I'll find out what Mr. Galloway has to do with it.

  The rest of the weekend was uneventful–thank God. There were no more lapses in memory (that I know of anyway), no more creepy texts. I'm feeling fine despite everything that's going on. A little...worn out. It was another feeling I wasn't used to. That seems to be happening a lot these days and that, too, is pissing me off. To say I'm a control freak is an understatement, so I need to get back in control of my life.

  This morning is dragging. Mondays usually do, but this is ridiculous. I can't seem to concentrate on anything. At least Amanda is talking to me again after verifying my story with Zac. I should be mad that she didn't just believe me, but, honestly, I have more important things to worry about. I just have to get through English class and then I'll finally get to history class.

  "You mourning?"

  I glance up to see Zac standing in front of me. He was smiling, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. I know he's thinking about the last time we were together. Looking in his eyes, I can tell it was all he had been thinking about all weekend.

  "Excuse me?"

  "All black today. You don't see that much here in Cali. Usually people go for light colors."

  My black slacks and black buttoned up shirt were comfortable for me. More so than the bright colors Zac spoke about. "I'm not that usual."

  "Isn't that the truth." He says it under his breath, but it's loud and clear to me. I p
retend not to hear him. No reason to make it even worse between us. "Black looks good on you. It makes your eyes look almost silver. It's nice."

  "Thanks. Look, Zac, about the other night..."

  "Don't. Nothing happened. It's all good."

  He smiles a little and then walks away. I always thought Zac Connor was a bit self-absorbed. I didn't realize until just then what a good guy he really was.

  "You okay with going in here? I mean, you're not still creeped out by Mr. Galloway are you?" Amanda is one of those who wore the bright colors you were supposed to wear. Her hot pink skirt with a soft pink baby tee was enough to make me sick to my stomach. Maybe it was because it reminded me of a certain antacid.

  "Nah, I got this." My smile is confident and cheerful. When you spend most of your life pretending you're something you're not, a fake smile is child's play. I glance in Galloway's direction and sure enough he was watching me. I match his gaze, turning up the heat, until he looks away. It seems I've succeeded at making him a little uncomfortable today. Ironically, I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or more confused about what was going on.

  "Have a seat ladies and gentlemen."

  Mr. Galloway stands and walks to the front of his desk. He looks the epitome of a teacher with his khaki pants and Argyle sweater vest over a light blue, long sleeved shirt. He's one of the younger teachers here, and with his light brown hair and hazel eyes, I would've thought he was good-looking enough if it weren't for that bit of spit on his bottom lip that stretched each time he spoke.

  "Today we're going to do something a bit different. We're going to learn about vampires."

  If it were possible, my heart would've stopped beating at that moment. The weirdness is getting absurd and, seriously, enough is enough.

  I raise my hand. "Mr. Galloway, this is history class not science fiction."

  "Science fiction, Ms. Gale?"