V Games: Fresh From The Grave (The Vampire Games Book 2)

by Caroline Peckham

  Jameson

  I woke in wolf form. It took me a moment to register my paws as I brushed them against my face – no, not my face, my damn muzzle. Alright, being a wolf had its benefits. But not when I was locked god-knows-how-many-feet under ground in the Helsings' prison.

  I rolled over, gaining my feet and taking in my new surroundings. I was in a glass cage - it made a change, albeit, not much of an upgrade. A bowl of water – are they shitting me? - was laid out beside me.

  I said a dry retort in my head, but it came out as a snarl instead. I spotted Ignus sat behind the pane with a group of men and women in white overcoats. I noticed the weight of a collar clamped around my neck. A heavy, metal thing – not an endearing little band with a tag swinging from it engraved with my name. Nope, the thing was ugly-as-sin according to my reflection. And I was pretty sure I was about to find out what this creepy Helsing invention was capable of.

  Ignus was speaking to the group, but the words were a muffled din. I strained my hearing until their voices became clearer, my ears flicking back and forth.

  “Give him 500ml to start. Let's keep this slow.” Ignus placed an iPad on his knee, typing information as the group set to work around him, moving to the control panel just in front of the glass tank I was in.

  I wanted a reaction. Those freaks were looking at me like I was a little puppy here to play.

  Not gonna happen.

  Aiming the full, hardened front of my head, I rammed it against the glass. A violent tremor ran through my body but I'd gotten their attention, which was the idea.

  Rearing up, I placed my front paws on the glass, tilted my head and bared my teeth, drool dripping to the floor. I glared at them, telling each of them with my eyes how I was going to rip their limbs off the second they got close.

  My display had given me a little response, but not nearly as much I'd hoped. The youngest of the group backed up, perhaps newly enrolled at the Helsings' playground. How did one go about applying for this shit?

  Wanted: creepy scientist who likes to screw with immortal beings.

  It wasn't exactly a 'back of the newspaper' kind of ad.

  “500ml.” Ignus pointed at me with a long finger and I crushed my jaw together, picturing biting off his perfectly manicured digit.

  The scientists fiddled around with the control desk then a mechanical sound caught my ear. Something was happening within the collar. Some wonderful treat for me was no doubt on its way.

  I braced myself, but the force with which two needles rammed into my throat made me cry out with a cub-like screech.

  Wonderful. Ignus was smiling at my reaction like a kid who'd just been given a day off school. This morning was getting better and better.

  Whatever they'd injected me with felt like ice melting in my veins. It took a few minutes to act, but I felt it when it did. Like someone had kicked me up the rear end. A flood of fury bled through me.

  I snarled at the glass, butting my head against it. I continued to do so until I was dizzy, losing control for a moment.

  I fought off the rage with all my might.

  This was more of their games. And I couldn't let them win.

  “Up the dosage,” Ignus's voice carried to me and I would have torn his throat out right then if he'd been within reach.

  I blinked hard, fixing my gaze on him as more of the vile liquid spilled into my veins.

  You're dead, I tried to say with my eyes. And no doubt he knew that look very well. Probably received it on a daily basis from all of his not-so-willing 'subjects'.

  At once, I was lost. Rage took over me so consuming that I started snapping at the glass as if I could break through it with my teeth. Ignus signalled upwards with his finger and the world seemed to spin as more of the poison slid into my body.

  The world became dark. I slipped away into a shadowy space at the back of the wolf's mind. Because I no longer had control of it. I was beast, through and through. I wanted blood, I needed to feed. There were no more words circling in my head, just pictures of my most primal needs.

  The glass seemed to evaporate to my side and I lunged through it, hankering for a kill. I was in another room, this one surrounded by silver bars.

  A girl sat on the floor across from me: red hair cascaded around her, so much of it that I could barely see her face. It didn't matter though. I wanted nothing else but to feed. Starvation ripped at my belly like I hadn't eaten in days. And perhaps I hadn't. I couldn't recall anything but this present moment.

  I lunged forward, wild and hungry, ready to rip this girl limb from limb.

  She moved in a flash, like lightning and I spun in a blur to follow her, my hackles raised. She lifted her palms, trying to halt me, but I kept coming, lunging forward again and again, whilst she dodged and dived with inhuman agility. A word crept up from the back of my mind: Vampire.

  My hunger dropped in a wave and I panted as I flopped to the ground, giving in. She couldn't offer me anything I needed. The girl seemed relieved, slinking toward the edge of the cage, careful not to touch the bars as she kept her distance from me. She parted the curtains of her lank hair and recognition tugged at a place deep inside me. But my mind was foggy as I continually slipped between beast and man.

  “Bring in subject eighteen,” Ingus's voice rang out. I lifted my head, turning toward him across the room. I licked my lips. He would taste delicious.

  Lights flickered on above me and I winced beneath their glaring heat, flattening my ears. The Vampire didn't fair as well, screaming to high heaven as the sunlamp ravished her flawless skin.

  The cage door swung open and I made a dash for freedom. Before I could escape, however, a man in threadbare clothes was thrust into the space and the gate clanged loudly as it swung shut behind him.

  The lamps flickered off, but before the space grew dark, I was upon the newcomer, tearing him apart. He screamed once, his hands raised before I bit and tore at them. I stemmed my hunger, feeding from him, lost to the kill.

  It took a few moments for me to realise the red-headed V had joined me, feasting on the man's neck.

  Her olive-green eyes met mine for the briefest of moments and some of the hatred inside me receded. A violent yank in my stomach made me feel ill. My human-side returned just enough that I could feel what I had done with the force of a hurricane ripping through my body. The V sobbed as she fed, but never stopped. I managed to tear myself away, my paws leaving bloody prints across the stone floor. Throwing my head back, I howled my fury, pouring all the anger I had into it.

  “He fights it off quickly,” Ignus remarked. “But the collar can stay in place during the game.”

  Selena

  Sleeping was my newest foe. How could I ever catch a wink when I knew tomorrow held so much fear? So much hope...

  Varick was alive. That was the thought that continuously circled my mind as I lay in one of Ulvic's spare bedrooms. I tossed and turned beneath the furs on the bed, getting up repeatedly to fetch water, to thumb through the books on the shelves fitted into the wall, to walk to the front door with the sole intention of leaving before returning to my room with more sense.

  Tomorrow held everything. It weighed a thousand tonnes and was laden with just as many possibilities.

  I could walk into that castle tomorrow, be handed over by Ulvic and land right back where I started. Or Ulvic could keep his word, but our plan might still fail. In which case, I could end up as the Helsings' prisoner indefinitely. Or worse, dead. I could destroy what chance Varick had left of survival, too. If we were caught, no doubt the Helsings wouldn't hesitate to eradicate us this time.

  As I paced back and forth, tying my fingers in knots, a harsh knock came at the door.

  “Shut the hell up!” Mekiah's voice blared through the wood. “Our room is below yours, understand? So stop wearing out the floorboards!”

  I wrenched the door open, coming face to face – or rather face to bare chest – with the huge man.

  He was snarling at me as if he were sti
ll in wolf form.

  “Sorry-” I started but he just slammed the door in my face and that was that.

  Sinking back onto my bed, I sighed heavily. My mind drifted to Varick again: of the last night we'd spent together. Of the few moments of happiness we'd shared- if that's what you could call them. Small, slivers of escape from reality. It didn't make any sense, the two of us. And somehow I was tethered to him, if only because I felt I had a debt to pay. And pay it, I would. That definitely had nothing at all to do with the fact I longed to be with him again, to feel the way the world came alive in his presence, the way my blood rose to my skin, causing the hairs to rise on my neck.

  Writhing on my sheets was doing me as much good as pacing had, but at least it was quieter. I was probably giving Reason nightmares with the all emotions flying off of my body right now. But what could I do? I was in turmoil, my mind bright with fear.

  The early hours of the morning crept past, mocking me until I finally unplugged the digital clock on my bed-stand, furious at it. I'd slept better than this in the damn V Games!

  What I wouldn't give now for Varick's compulsion, to take away my anxiety and let me sleep in peace. But he was the entire reason I felt like this. That, and the niggling worry that I shouldn't be going back to Raskdød at all. That I was abandoning my mother by choice this time. Which was a bitter pill to swallow.

  Something had cracked inside me, like my heart was splitting open, threatening to wrench apart altogether. It had something to do with Varick, but also Cass and Marie, and Kite. I felt like Kite now, taking that faithful jump, my fingers grazing the bar to freedom. That image was all it took for the crack to splinter.

  I found myself on my feet and in moments I was downstairs, desperate for some air. I wrenched open the door, finding two wolves on the porch, making my stomach reach for my throat. The shaggy grey one lifted its head and the other - coloured in mottled browns - was on its feet in seconds, approaching me at a wicked pace.

  The animal snarled something that almost sounded like words, but I continued past it, backing down the steps, heading toward the trees.

  “Where are you going?” a voice rang out from the door. I looked up to find Mekiah filling the doorway, barely a sliver of light escaping the house around his imposing form.

  “I'm getting some air,” I said, already shivering.

  “There might not be Vs on this island, but it's not safe to go wandering around in the forest at night.” He tutted, folding his broad arms across his beastly chest. “How did you even survive the bloody games?”

  My resolve shattered at his words, because I had no answer. Everyone I'd tried to save was gone. Girls who had been stronger than me in every way, and yet I was the one still standing. But why?

  Mekiah moved down the steps, the grey jogging bottoms he wore hanging low on his hips. The two wolves on the porch moved to his side. There was so much unity in their actions that it broke me apart. I was alone. My pack was gone, dead to the game, taken brutally from the world by teeth and claws. Ulvic's wolves might have been helping me, but they certainly didn't want to.

  My heart rate lifted as I awaited his next move.

  “I'm starting to think Reason's right,” Mekiah mused, tilting his head to the side, his thick neck bending unnaturally like the trunk of a tree.

  I remained silent, feeling like I was getting smaller by the second.

  Mekiah continued his line of thought, “Ulvic's not telling us something about you. I want to know how it is that a skinny little girl is standing here, alive, when she faced a hundred hungry Vs on that island.”

  “What's it to you?” I pitched out at last, a breath leaving me as I did so, relieved at finally finding my voice.

  “Curiosity.” He shrugged, dropping off of the final step. The wolves remained just behind him, higher up on the steps, growling at me in low, ragged tones.

  “And?” I guessed there was more to it than that.

  He laced his fingers together, flexing them with a broad yawn. I was clearly no threat to him. Winner of the V Games or not. “You don't smell right. You're human, I'm fairly sure, but...” He sniffed the air. “There is something very different about you. And I'm starting to fear that you may be a threat to my pack.”

  I folded my arms, a huff leaving me. If I heard from one more person that I was 'special' I was going to lose it. “I don't know any more than you do. So I'd appreciate if you could stop smelling the air around me like I'm a microwave meal.”

  He laughed, which took me by surprise. The wolves beside him barked their amusement and I waited for their mirth to subside.

  “Look...” He moved toward me, invading my personal space with an aggressive stance that sent my heart tumbling down a hill. “I don't take threats lightly. We've lived in peace on this island for years. And now Ulvic has brought you here, which is a first by his standards. So I know there's more to you than he's said.”

  “Well he hasn't shared it with me, if that's what you're thinking.” I managed to jut out my jaw defiantly, but Mekiah could probably sense the anxiety exuding from my body.

  He sniffed the air again and I stiffened, furious at his continued investigation of my scent.

  “What do you want with my pack?” he snarled eventually.

  I huffed my frustration. “Nothing! I never asked to come here. I don't care about your pack.” I immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say as Mekiah's body bristled all over.

  I raised a palm to placate him. I'd never been around dogs much. Apart from the neighbours' husky who had bit me as a child. And there was one thing I remembered from my time with him. If I stood my ground, he respected me. If I told him no when he got too boisterous, he usually backed down. Perhaps Werewolves were the same.

  “That's not what I meant,” I said firmly. “I just think we've got off on the wrong foot here. Your friend is being held by the Helsings, right?”

  “Alpha,” he corrected, but nodded once in confirmation all the same.

  “And so is mine...” I took a minuscule step closer, showing my willingness to be in the circle of threat he'd formed with his body. “And I can't sleep, I can't bare waiting any longer to help him.”

  “Ulvic has a plan. You can trust him,” he stated with absolute confidence.

  I nodded tentatively.

  “Unless you want to go it alone?” He raised a brow. “But is that how you survived the game?”

  His question threw me. I had in no way survived that game alone. There was more than one person responsible for my survival, and ninety percent of them were now dead.

  “Of course not,” I sighed.

  “Ah,” he said in understanding. “Makes more sense.” He hmphed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, but not backing up. “Packs give you strength. And Ulvic has overruled me and offered you his allegiance. That is not a thing he offers regularly. And it is a damn rarity in my case, She-cat.”

  “She-cat?” I wrinkled my nose at the strange insult.

  He stepped closer, speaking a word with every footfall until he was nose to nose with me. “Loner. Stray. Outsider.”

  My gut wrenched at his words, but I sensed he was pushing me for a reaction. I glanced up and down his body. He was strong and the exact kind of ally I needed. Loyalty was clearly in his blood, but would he really offer it to me willingly, considering everything he'd just said about me?

  I straightened my shoulders, gazing him in the eye. “I'm going to walk onto that island tomorrow and hand myself over to a family I hate more than you can imagine. Because of that, you'll have a chance to rescue your Alpha. I'm not a threat to your pack, I'm helping it.”

  He scowled, but eventually nodded. “I suppose you are our excuse for getting onto the island...”

  I nodded, sensing he was on the verge of siding with me. “But I need your word that you won't abandon me. That you'll free my friend and come for me, too.” Panic swelled in my chest at the thought of being left to the mercy of the Helsings. “Please.”


  Mekiah surveyed me before slowly nodding. “I swear it.”

  A cool wind rushed across my cheeks as I smiled, thrusting out a palm.

  He took it with a bemused expression, then tugged me after him. “Come on, mustn't have you freezing to death before tomorrow.”

  Making a deal with Werewolves was the best plan I had. And though they would always help each other over me, perhaps if I simply saw them as allies, they'd invite me into that circle. Just long enough to rescue Varick and leave Raskdød behind for good.

  ◐☼◐

  Three broken hours of sleep later and I managed to rouse the house into action. Ulvic was the slowest, taking his time to dress, mulling over the coffee in his Port Au Prince mug until I was practically shoving him out the front door.

  I was going back to that castle disguised as a prisoner, and Ulvic wasn't taking any chances with the Helsings suspecting I was armed. So I wasn't given so much as a knife out of his vast weapon collection to arm myself. All I had was blind faith and the word of a Werewolf pack. That would have to be enough.

  Reason floated at my side, her white-blonde hair wound into an intricate plait down her spine. Mekiah led the way to the catamaran, passing through the dappled sunlight that floated between gaps in the tree canopy. I breathed in the clean air, relishing the morning, the sunlight. Soon, I'd be without it once more. So for now, I was going to soak up as much of it as I could.

  Mekiah barked at us to hurry up and I glowered at him. It was me who had wanted to move quicker. Now he seemed as anxious to go to Raskdød as I did. But he couldn't possibly want that more than me.

  “Why do you share a room with him if you're not together?” I asked Reason in a hushed whisper.

  Reason didn't lower her voice when she answered. “Because I have to. Ulvic thinks we'll pair bond if we continue to sleep in the same bed.” She grimaced and bitterness flared in her steely eyes.

  “What's that like?” I murmured.

  “Like sleeping next to a warthog with a bad cold.”

  Mekiah shot a glare at her over his shoulder and I stiffened.