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

by Jourdyn Kelly

  "If you wanted answers, Sam, all you had to do was ask." My breathing is labored, and painful, but I put as much malice as I can in my statement.

  Sam walks up to the glass, and addresses me. "Who are you?"

  "You know who I am."

  "Who are you?" he asks again, slamming his hand against the glass.

  I don't flinch. I will not give him that satisfaction. Instead, I sit up, lift my head and look him in the eye.

  "My name is Anala Geil. I am the daughter of the Leaders of the Society of Hunters."

  Gasps come from everyone on the other side of the glass. Except one.

  "Anala?" Emily whispers. "But, she died when she was..."

  "Eighteen," Jeremy finishes, looking at me with pity.

  "What happened?" Jenna asks, genuinely interested.

  "I was on patrol," I begin. "With a boy..."

  "Thomas?" Amanda asks.

  "Yes. His little sister must have followed us out to where we were and hid. When we heard rustling in the bushes, we thought for sure it was a Cursed One." I pause, trying to catch my breath. The damn pain just won't go away. "We almost killed her," I continue. "When Thomas left to take her home, I was distracted for one minute. Thinking about him. A Cursed One got to me before I even knew what was happening."

  I take shallow breaths, hoping to alleviate the torture going on inside me.

  "Why did your parents let you live?" Sam's voice is harsh, again. Perhaps he was jealous when I spoke of being distracted by Thomas. Good. Let your heart hurt for a bit, I think bitterly.

  "Because she was their daughter!" Amanda sneers. "Some people just have better judgment!"

  "But, they were the Leaders of the Society. There are codes that we must live by," Sam explains.

  "He's right," Zac says quietly. They are the first words I have heard from him since waking up.

  "I was not like the others." I glance at Zac. "I was an anomaly. I am an anomaly. My parents had no idea I had been turned until they saw how my eyes had changed. Everything else about me had remained the same. I never tried to hurt them. Just as I would never hurt any of you."

  "How can we be sure of that?" Sam asks.

  "She has had many chances," Emily interjects. "If she wanted us dead, we would be dead."

  "And, why train us to kill, well, her if she wanted to hurt us?" Jenna adds.

  "We don't know what her true agenda is!" Sam tries to hold on to his anger, but his confusion seems to be winning the battle. I lower my head, unable to look at him anymore - and, unable to deal with the pain anymore.

  "Are you serious? I just can't believe you could do this, Sam. Or, believe that she is capable of hurting us. You're sleeping with her for chrissake!"

  Another groan escapes me, this time from Amanda's words as much as the pain. I did not need everyone knowing that! I hear a sharp intake of breath from Zac, and I risk looking at him. The hurt and accusation in his eyes were too much for me, and I broke the gaze. Without a word, he walks away. My sigh is ragged and full of agony.

  "Ana, what is it?" Amanda's voice is so full of compassion, that I see no reason to lie to her.

  "Your brother staked me," I tell her, because, frankly, that is the biggest problem. "With a silver splintering stake. My heart is trying to regenerate around it, but can't."

  "Sam!"

  He looks authentically shocked and self-reproachful. "I...It was a mistake. I didn't know I had chosen one of those…"

  "He is a Hunter, Amanda. He followed his instincts." After everything, I wonder why I am still willing to take up for him. "Actually, what he should've done was kill me."

  "Don't say that!"

  "It's true." I turn my attention to Sam, who can barely look at me. "I have to finish what I am destined to do, Sam. I know who the Maker is. I just have to find him. After that, I will lay down my swords and let you do what you are destined to do. Kill me."

  He pales.

  "No. I won't let him!"

  "It is the code, Amanda."

  "I don't give a damn about the code! Not if it means killing you. And, not if it means Sam has to do it! Whether he wants to admit it or not, he cares for you. He can't kill you!"

  Cares for me? The silver splinters in my heart beg to differ.

  "Who is the Maker, Ana?" Eric asks, trying desperately to change the subject.

  "A boy I once knew." I can't disguise the sadness in my voice.

  "Oh, Ana! Thomas?"

  I nod my confirmation to Amanda, and once again slump in the chair. If I don't get these splinters out soon, I will be too weak to do it.

  "Sam, open the door!"

  "I can't, Amanda."

  "Open the damn door! She needs help!"

  Sam stares at me, tears pooling in his eyes. After a brief hesitation, he drops the keys to the floor and walks away. Amanda waits for a split second, and no one makes a grab for the keys.

  "You people are pathetic!" She scolds, picking them up herself. "All she's done for you, and this is how you repay her?"

  The rest of them lower their heads in shame and follow Sam.

  "Miserable excuses..." Amanda mumbles a string of expletives as she unlocks the door and walks over to me.

  "Don't be hard on them," I tell her weakly. "They don't know how to react to all of this."

  "How about like your friends!" She yells the word, hoping everyone hears her.

  "They're Hunters," I explain as she unlocks one wrist. "I am what they are born and trained to kill. Leave it." I place my hand on hers before she can unlock the other wrist. "Just so you know you're safe."

  "I already know that," she huffs, and unlocks the cuff anyway.

  "Very well." I lift my hand to my chest, ready to dig out the damn silver splinters. "You may not want to be here for this."

  "I'm fine."

  I shrug and it sends a pain shooting through me. I take the opportunity to dig my fingers into my chest, and pull out the first fragment. I try not to groan and succeed, but I can't help the change. I fully expect Amanda to go running from me in fear, however, she doesn't even flinch. She just holds her hand out, waiting for me to give her the splinter.

  I go in for another one, gripping the arm of the chair with my other hand, bending it with the force.

  "You knew," I state, trying to think of other things. It's not working. I exhale through my teeth as the splinter slides out.

  "What?"

  "You knew who I am. How?"

  "Why do you think I knew?"

  "You're not surprised, for one." I start on another fragment. "You've dropped hints. How did you know?"

  "I read the journal," she says simply.

  "So did everyone else," I counter.

  "People tend to read without comprehending."

  Who is this person? This is not the same Amanda Logan I met two years ago. She has grown up exceedingly in the past few weeks. I hand her another splinter, and eye her suspiciously.

  "I wrote the journal. I still don't see how you deduced that I am Anala."

  "Ana, you wrote that Anala - or you - died when she was eighteen. Your parents were murdered not long after that. There's no one left. It is impossible for you to be a descendant of the Leaders, since they had no other family."

  Well, hell. I freeze in the middle of having my fingers pushed half way through my chest. Not a comfortable position I might add.

  "Hmm." I continue digging. "You will have to change that."

  "Me!"

  "Yes. When I'm gone, I would like for you to continue writing the journals."

  "Ana, don't say things like that!"

  I hand her the last fragment, and breathe deep when the regeneration starts to ease the physical pain.

  "Amanda, I have lived. Many, many lifetimes. I'm ready."

  "Well, I'm not! And, neither is Sam!"

  "He staked me. I'm sure he'll be just fine."

  "He did what he did because he's confused and angry. It was stupid, and he should've thought before doing it, but he care
s!"

  "Maybe he did, Amanda, but…"

  "No. He does. I mean, I know Sam. I've never seen him like this."

  "It doesn't matter." Only it does. It matters a lot. "Amanda, please. Let me go. If Sam can't do it, I need you to."

  "Ana..."

  "I have been alive for almost six-hundred years, Amanda. Do you have any idea how lonely that is? I can't stay here much longer, or people will begin to notice I don't age. I move from place to place, lose people I love and I'm tired. Help me."

  Tears begin to flow down Amanda's face.

  "Please?"

  "You still look weak." She avoids giving me an answer. "What do you need?"

  "Blood," I sigh.

  She flushes. "Oh. How, er, where…"

  I smirk at her obvious discomfort, and can't help myself. "It needs to be from a live person."

  She goes from bright pink to pale white in a matter of seconds.

  "I'm kidding, Amanda. I have blood stocked here."

  "Oh. Are you sure?"

  "Am I sure I have blood?"

  "Are you sure it doesn't need to be…live?"

  It's my turn to blush…though I'm honestly not sure if I can.

  "Actually, that would be better, and faster."

  "Then take it from me."

  "Absolutely not."

  "Why?"

  "No, Amanda."

  "Will it change me? Or, kill me?"

  "No, I can control that. But, I will not drink from you."

  "Why not?"

  "Because Sam really will kill me if I do, and I need to find Thomas before that happens."

  "You can't fight Thomas unless you're at your best. Live will do that. Let me help you."

  "If you want to help me, kill me when this is all over. I'm not taking your blood." I stand abruptly, effectively ending that conversation.

  "Do you love him?" Amanda calls to me when I reach the door, and my step falters. "Do you love my brother?"

  I keep my back to Amanda, not wanting her to see my tears.

  "Yes."

  What a damn night. I've been exposed for what I really am, Thomas is cursed and wants me dead, I doubt my Hunters trust me anymore and the man I'm in love with staked me. Is it any wonder I am fragile and vulnerable? I honestly, for one split second, thought about taking Amanda up on her offer. Just to get some of my strength back. She's right, I will never defeat Thomas like this, but I can't drink from her. Everything about that feels wrong. The blood I have stored here will have to do. I hope it's good enough after everything I've been through.

  "Ana?"

  Immediately on alert, I back up into the door I just closed behind me.

  "Get out, Sam!"

  He holds his hands up. "I don't have any weapons. I'm not here to hurt you."

  "I don't care why you're here, I want you to leave! Actually, first I would like you to tell me how you knew where I was, and why you were there." I don't have the strength to fight him, physically or emotionally. Not that I'm going to let him know that.

  "I put a tracking device on one of your swords," he said, guiltily, and I swear I could feel my blood boil. "You wouldn't let me go with you, and I was worried! I lied about having to work. It was the only way I could be there with you. Ana, please. I came to apologize..."

  "Apologize?" I snort. Seriously? I'm so mad right now, I don't think there's anything he can say that could possibly help the situation. "So? Let's hear it. 'Hey, sorry I betrayed you. Sorry I staked you'."

  Sam takes another step towards me, and I step back. Am I really afraid of him? At this moment, being as weak as I am, yes. Again, he lifts his hands.

  "I don't have any stakes, Ana! No swords, no daggers!"

  I eye him suspiciously. "I didn't think you did before either. When you pretended to care, touching my face only so you could get close enough to me."

  He flinches at my words as if I slapped him - or staked him. "I never pretended. Not even then."

  "Just get out, Sam." I keep my distance from him, glancing at his hands. I will be ready for him this time.

  "Jesus, Ana, I don't have any weapons!"

  "You'll forgive me if I don't believe you."

  With an exasperated sigh, he begins to unbutton his shirt.

  "Whoa, what are you doing?"

  "Showing you that I have nothing," he says, stripping his shirt off.

  Well, crap. Now I know I'm still attracted to him despite what he did to me. I look away.

  "I don't care if you have a weapon," I snap. "You'll never get close enough to me again to use it. All I want is for you to go."

  Sam drops in the chair he sat in the first night he came to my room, and rubs his hands over his face. For the first time, I see the fatigue. His usually clean shaven face now sports stubble, and dark circles take up residence under his eyes. As much as I try to stop it, my heart melts a little for him.

  "Let me try to explain…"

  "Explain how you staked me?"

  "Ana!"

  "Don't like it, Sam? Try being on the pointy end!"

  "I was confused! And, angry," he says, reiterating Amanda's words from earlier. "You made me run! You compelled me to leave you there!" He looks up at me, and I see the question flash in his eyes.

  "How dare you! Do you really think I compelled you to sleep with me?"

  He runs his hand through his hair, but takes too long to answer.

  "You came to me, remember? Do you think I wanted this? Any of this? I wanted a normal life! As normal as I could get! I didn't want to be doing this again, or putting those kids lives in danger," I point in the general direction of the other Hunters. "I didn't want to get involved in something I know can't last! And, I certainly didn't want to get staked by someone I'm in…" I take a shaky breath.

  A tear runs down his cheek, and, once again, the ice in my heart melts.

  "I know I came to you," he says quietly. "Of course I know you didn't compel me, not in the way you think. I didn't want to hurt you." He pauses, taking a deep breath. "What I did was unforgivable, and I don't blame you if you hate me forever. I want…I need to make it up to you."

  "I don't think you can."

  His head falls. "Please don't say that. I screwed up, Ana. Bad. I heard you talking to Amanda. I know what it is you need. Let me help you."

  What I need? I asked Amanda to help me…he's willing to kill me. If this is indeed what I want, why does it hurt so much that he wants to help me?

  "You know I can't let you do that until after I've defeated Thomas."

  Sam looks up at me, confused. "After?"

  "Yes. I have to finish this before I let you kill me."

  "Kill you? Jesus, Ana! I don't want to kill you!"

  "Then what are you talking about, Sam?"

  "I want you to drink from me! I want to make up for what I did. I want to help you."

  This time, I'm taken aback. Drink from him?

  "No."

  "Ana..."

  "No. Get out."

  "Why? I can help you."

  "Is this some sort of test? Are you trying to prove that I have no control over my cravings?" Because, truthfully, I'm not sure how much control I have. Drinking from Sam is so incredibly tempting.

  "It's not a test, Ana. I need to do this for you. I need you to know how sorry I am."

  "Fine. I get it. But, I'm not taking your blood."

  He sighs and sits back in the chair. "I thought that's what you would say. I lied before," he confesses, watching me.

  Damn, I could use some blood. Each passing moment makes me weaker, and hungrier. I take a second to close my eyes, indulging in the relief it gives my tired, aching head. "About what this time?" I mutter.

  "Having a weapon."

  My eyes fly open at the same time Sam brings the blade of his pocketknife to his throat and slices. With a speed I didn't think I could muster, I was at his side.

  "What did you do?" I clamp my hand around the wound, trying not to think of how amazing his blood smells. />
  His head falls forward a little before he catches himself. "I think I cut a little too deep," he slurs.

  "Son of a bitch, Sam! Look at me!" I deliberately change as he's watching. I want him to really see what I am, and what I am capable of. He doesn't look away. Probably because he's losing too much blood and can't comprehend. Holding my breath, I bring my hand up to my mouth and bite my palm. I touch my blood to the wound on his neck and it closes immediately. "Idiot," I mutter, making myself return to normal, and move to stand up.

  Sam grabs my hand and pulls me. My current state of weakness has me stumbling until I'm sitting bestride him.

  "Ana." He caresses my face. "I'm so sorry. I know my words mean nothing, but they're true nonetheless."

  He tugs me closer, brushing his lips on mine.

  "Sam..."

  He kisses me again, deeper.

  "I love you," he whispers.

  The words make my heart completely melt, and the rest of me heat up beyond my control.

  "I love you, Anala." He kisses me more, swallowing my moan.

  "I love you, too," I confide between kisses. I can't fight him. I don't want to. This is what I want. This doesn't hurt.

  Sam breaks the kiss, and tilts his head. "Please."

  "I can't. You don't know what you're asking of me."

  He holds my gaze. "Yes, I do. I trust you, Ana. I didn't know if I could, but I saw you with my sister. You are still you. Let me help you." He angles his head again.

  Seeing the blood there, still wet and smelling delicious, demolishes my resolve. Tentatively, I lick his neck with the tip of my tongue. The taste is intoxicating and I turn, again, immediately. The sensation is too much for me, and I try to get up, but Sam holds me steady.

  "It's okay," he murmurs. "Look at me."

  I shake my head, and he lifts my chin with his finger.

  "You're beautiful." He looks at me fully, taking in my eyes with their red ring and my sharp teeth. "Drink from me, Anala."

  The use of my true name is my undoing. I sink my teeth into his neck, and drink the sweetest, most provocative blood I've ever tasted.

  I awaken abruptly, my eyes flying open at the sensations I am feeling inside. Sitting up, I inhale deeply. What a remarkable feeling. Everything inside me seems to be more...alive. Supersensitive is the only way I know how to describe it. The affliction in my heart has completely vanished, and it feels strong. My muscles contract under my skin when I reach up to touch my chest. I feel as though I could fight every one of the Cursed Ones under Thomas by myself without complication.