Blood Cure

by K. R. Willis

  Khalid flipped my dagger end over end. I tried not to panic.

  “Very nice,” Khalid said as he stopped flipping my dagger and examined it. “I used a dagger like this once to kill Ottomans when they invaded my homeland.”

  Ottomans? Ooh, crap, how old is this guy? I swallowed…hard. My heart raged like a jackhammer in my chest.

  You still have your sword, Rya offered.

  Yeah, I know, but he’s too fast. If I just grab for it, he’ll take it away like the dagger. I need a distraction. He already had my dagger; I didn’t want my sword to end up in his hands also. Judging by his reference to the Ottoman Turks—I remembered them vaguely from history class—Khalid was a really freaking old vampire. That, combined with the fact it wasn’t dark out meant, more than likely, he was really damn powerful.

  One distraction coming right up, Rya declared.

  Khalid advanced on me, further backing me against the wall. He ran the tip of the dagger down my cheek to my neck, putting enough pressure on it to scrape my skin, but not draw blood. He either didn’t want that kind of temptation, or he liked playing with his prey.

  Khalid clicked his tongue. “Such a pity,” he said.

  He’s distracted. Whatever you’re gonna do, Rya, now would be a good time to do it. As if she’d been waiting for this very moment, her tattoo shifted on my side, making the skin bunch and pull.

  This is going to hurt, she warned, then ripped herself from my side. I cried out as my skin burned like it’d been set on fire. It felt raw and painful, but I couldn’t think about that right now.

  The surprise on Khalid’s face was priceless as Rya’s solid form collided with his chest. She rode him to the floor like a deer and they tumbled several feet away. I wouldn’t get another chance so I pushed away from the wall and pulled my sword from its sheath and tried to join the fight, but Rya crouched on top of him with her jaws locked around his throat. A clean strike eluded me.

  Rya, move! I raised the sword above my head, its weight steady in my hands, but Rya had to get out of my way first.

  When she released his throat and shifted her weight back, I thought she was moving out of my line of fire, but then I noticed her paws no longer touched his chest.

  Run! She screamed in my head right before she went flying twenty or so feet down the hallway and collided with the wall. Plaster crumbled and a sconce above her crashed to the floor. The bulb shattered, spewing microscopic shrapnel all over her.

  Rya! I wanted to run to her, but Khalid rose from the floor like smoke, and was on his feet instantly, blocking my path.

  I brandished my sword, ready to fight to the death if I had to, preferably his, not mine, but Khalid flicked his finger in the air and my sword joined Rya. Thank goodness it penetrated the wall above her and to the right, instead of impaling her prone form.

  Khalid dusted himself off and addressed me without looking up. “I must say, it’s been centuries since I’ve been surprised.” Excitement filled his words. He looked at me, his lips curled back in a smile, or at least his version of one, and I noted the holes Rya put in his neck had disappeared. “It was…invigorating. But make no mistake, it will not happen again.”

  The one chance I’d had to surprise and take him out had vanished, leaving me with few choices. And his obvious telekinetic abilities complicated things even more.

  Rya, get up! She hadn’t moved since she hit the floor.

  I wouldn’t leave her, but I needed room to maneuver. This cramped hallway made it nearly impossible to fight Khalid with any hope of succeeding. All the training Sam and I had done was in the open, not crammed between two walls roughly eight feet apart. So I did the only thing I could think of.

  I took Rya’s advice and ran.

  CHAPTER 19

  Every step was leaden as I struggled to put as much distance between me and Khalid as I could before he grabbed hold of me and did the same thing as he had to Rya. I’d be screwed if he decided to use his telekinesis on me. Air surged in and out of my lungs as I fought for as much ground as possible. I rounded the corner, spilled out into the larger dining area, and skidded to a screeching halt just shy of toppling Donna over. She stood in the narrow corridor between the dining area and the back hallway that funneled diners to the restrooms.

  She held a coffeepot in one hand, the service tray tilted unevenly in the other, with one foot on the ground and one in the air—midstride. To my horror I realized, she wasn’t moving. Donna stared straight ahead, eyes devoid of any life or movement. Not even a blink. As I quickly scanned the room I noticed everyone in the diner had the same vacant look to them. People were stuck with food halfway to their mouths, drinks frozen mid-sip, and one of the old men had stopped just as he got up from his bar stool, his paper tucked haphazardly under his arm.

  “It’s beautiful, don’t you think?” Khalid announced from behind me. “My own personal art exhibit.” I whirled around and bumped into Donna, making her spill some of her coffee, but she didn’t move or attempt to clean it up. She just went back to being frozen, and so did the coffee: it created a dark arc of droplets all the way to the black and white checkered floor.

  “What did you do to them?” I asked as I slowly backed around Donna, careful not to bump her again.

  “It is one of my special talents,” Khalid said. He strolled over to Donna and ran the tip of my dagger across her neck, leaving behind a crimson trail he licked up hungrily. Then he set his black eyes back on me.

  I spun and made a break for the front door, but he was there. He grabbed me from the back, picked me up and threw me through the front glass window. I had just enough time to move my arms in front of my face.

  It knocked the air out of me when I landed on the hood of a really ugly red pinto with a rebel flag painted on the roof. The shocks groaned as they tried to absorb the weight of my impact, and the hood crumpled. Steam rose around the edges of the ruined hood—probably from a broken hose. All I could think of as I laid there and tried to breathe was that I hoped they had good insurance.

  “You’ve got guts,” Khalid said, “but there is no way you can defeat me. I have been around for centuries and have battled far worse than you.”

  Rya, wake up! He grabbed me by my hair, and dragged me off the hood to my feet. My teeth hurt as I gritted them against the pain and my arms burned and bled where they’d taken the impact from the window. Miniature pools of blood puddled at my feet.

  Khalid inhaled a deep breath. “Truly a pity,” he said and shook his head.

  He was distracted for a split second from the smell of my blood, so I did what any warm-blooded American girl would do…I kicked him in the nuts as hard as I possibly could. The crunch of shin connecting with his tender bits was music to my ears, but it was short lived. Instead of doubling over in excruciating pain, he gave me a toothy grin.

  “Ahh, that tickles.” He adjusted himself and something popped back into place. My stomach roiled. “You wish to play? I love a challenge.”

  With that, he spun and threw me against the metal skin of the diner. It creaked and moaned upon impact, creating a Keira shaped crater in its shell. Stars burst behind my eyelids as something in my back popped in the lower region, and my teeth chattered. I collapsed forward on my knees, hands braced on each side, and tried my best not to pass out. The grass in front of me swirled in a kaleidoscope of black dots that made me want to throw up my meal.

  Get up, I told myself as I tried to find the strength to stand. Khalid wasn’t breathing down my neck yet, but he would be.

  “Is that all you’ve got?” he taunted me. Khalid clucked his tongue in disappointment. “I had hoped for more of a challenge.” His voice grew louder as he drew near.

  The last few rays of sunlight streamed through the shattered window and glinted off something in the grass beside my right hand. I blinked several times, trying to decide if what I saw was an illusion. My fingers wrapped around its sharp cool edges, and I knew it was real. Hope rose in my chest. It wouldn’t kill him, but
maybe it would allow me and Rya to escape.

  When a shadow suddenly towered over me, I struck.

  Every bone in my body screamed in protest as I pushed up from the ground and used that momentum to shove the jagged shard of glass I grasped into his chest as close to his heart as I could get. It was about six inches in length with a wider base I used as a handle, so I managed to shove it all the way to the hilt. It sliced into my hand, ripping a cry from my throat, but it was drowned out by the deep rumbling bellow that erupted from Khalid.

  He stumbled back several steps, eyes wide. A dark red stain spread across his shirt, spider-webbing outward as it absorbed into the fibers and expanded. I didn’t wait to see what else happened because I bolted in the direction of the front door. I needed to grab Rya and get the hell out of there.

  “Foolish girl,” Khalid said. His voice sounded way calmer than it should have with six inches of glass embedded in his chest.

  In the next instant, I couldn’t move. Not from being frozen in fear, but because I literally couldn’t move. An invisible force wrapped around my body and squeezed, making my chest feel heavy and my lungs too small. I gasped for air like a guppy. The door stood mere inches from my fingers, but with the vise-like grip Khalid had me in, it seemed miles away.

  Khalid must have flicked his fingers as he had with Rya outside the ladies’ room because I slid across the grass until my back rammed up against another vehicle, an SUV this time, and was pinned there. My head swiveled, all on its own, to watch as Khalid strode toward me, the glass spike still protruding from his chest. My heart slammed into overdrive, sweat beaded on my upper lip. My improvised stake hadn’t bought me the time I hoped for.

  Khalid stopped about two feet from me and casually plucked the shard from his chest and flung it out of reach. He moaned and tilted his head up to the heavens.

  “It’s been a very long time since I smelled my own blood,” he said, licking his lips. When his eyes met mine, they glowed. “The Council ordered me to bring you to them alive”—a slow smile crept across his face—“but your condition was otherwise left unspecified.” The taste in my mouth soured.

  Khalid released me from his telekinetic hold—the squeezing tightness evaporated, allowing me to take a deep breath—then his powerful hands grabbed me around the waist, lifted me off the ground, and slammed me down onto the hood of the Blazer beneath me. I tried not to pass out. Black stars corrupted my vision and my heart slammed into my breastbone so hard it hurt.

  Then suddenly, just as my luck seemed to run out, Rya leapt through the shattered diner window, silent as death himself, and landed on Khalid’s back. She tore into him with teeth and claws, using all of her 150 pounds to its full advantage.

  The ancient vampire roared and released me. Blood flew in all directions as he grasped Rya’s fur and staggered backward, the tiny droplets peppering me and anything else close by. I wanted to rush to her aid, but I couldn’t. Something was wrong.

  My ears rang, like someone had smashed the liberty bell with a sledgehammer while on my head. The hairs on my arms tingled, and my vision dwindled to tiny pinpricks of light. My aching body parts were too numerous to count.

  At some point Khalid had thrown Rya off his back because when she screamed her outrage it came from somewhere to my right. My mind fogged, muddled with pain. Rya screamed something at me, but I couldn’t make out what she said. I rubbed my forehead with my bloodied arm, trying to clear the cobwebs, and managed to make out what she said next time she screamed at me.

  Roll right. Now!

  The command in her voice made me ignore all the aching, bruised, bleeding, parts of my body that raged at me as I forced myself to roll in the direction she told me, right off the side of the SUV. On instinct, I threw my arms out to brace for impact, and at the same time Rya leapt up to meet me. When we collided, my arms wrapped around her protectively. We hit the ground in a tangle of limbs and fur, and rolled several feet away. The last thing I felt before the world went black was the tingle of Rya’s magic as she melded back into my skin.

  CHAPTER 20

  The steady plop plop plop of water dripping somewhere close by woke me. It had that annoying quality all leaky faucets have, its steady rhythm pulling me from the darkness. My senses came back to me one electrical impulse at a time, each nerve ending waking, catching on fire, alerting me to the fact that somehow I wasn’t dead. I groaned. I hurt too damn bad to be dead.

  Peeling my eyes open, I blinked several times to dislodge the dirt crusted around my lashes. I lay in a crumpled heap on my side, face half buried in dirt. My hair was a dirty, sticky mess, plastered to my neck and face in several places. When I tried to lift my head, pain sizzled down my spine, and the muscles spasmed. I bit back the scream that crawled up my throat, hoping not to alert whoever had beaten me to a pulp and tossed me to the packed earth.

  Khalid. Rya’s quiet voice drifted across my subconscious. My heart kicked into overdrive at the mention of his name. I tried to push myself up in case he still lingered, but couldn’t. My body refused to move.

  What happened? Fear tightened its black fingers around my heart as I remembered the battle with Khalid, and the fact he had been winning when I blacked out. Judging by my current position face down in the dirt, things hadn’t gone well. Is he still here? I can’t move.

  No, he is gone. When I realized you were about to pass out, I made sure I became your tattoo again so Khalid wouldn’t leave me behind or lock me up where I couldn’t help you. I am currently trying to heal your wounds.

  I relaxed a little at Rya’s words, and concentrated on what she said about healing me. Now that I knew what she was doing, I could feel it. The spasm that played my muscles like strings on a guitar just moments ago was gone, leaving me breathing heavy, but able to lift my head out of the dirt. I winced as the slight crackle of bones knitting together echoed through my mind from what I assumed were the cracked ribs Khalid gave me when he threw me up against the diner, and again when he body slammed me on the hood of the SUV. Muscles burned as they knitted back together, and the cuts on my arms from the collision with the window already itched as they healed. Rya was healing me from the inside out, paying special attention to anything that might be life threatening or hinder me in a fight. I stayed still while she worked.

  Father used to tell me stories about Spirit Warriors and how they helped their masters. They fought beside us, healed our injuries when we needed them to, and lived as constant companions. We had legends about Blackfoot tribesmen who went into the wilderness with nothing but their Spirit Warriors and survived for many years—a type of spirit journey to help them figure out what they wanted to do with their lives. Experiencing it firsthand with Rya made me appreciate her even more, and our bond that much stronger.

  Thanks, Rya.

  You’re welcome, she said. Her voice drifted away as she continued to work on my injuries.

  With the pain slowly but surely becoming more tolerable, I eased onto my back and surveyed my surroundings. Stone made up the entire room. Cracks and fissures snaked across every surface like veins in a marble slab, while furry green moss covered the room in patches, no doubt fueled by the moisture that leached through the stones. Enough moisture had gathered along the left wall that it dripped into a shallow basin, creating a small puddle and the accompanying plopping sound.

  I managed to roll onto my stomach without passing out, and crawled on my hands and knees to the water puddle. It looked clear, and smelled okay, so I took a drink. The cool water quenched my thirst, and moistened my dry throat. I scooped up several palms full and drank until I couldn’t drink any more. With my belly full, I took another look around. The only light came from a single candle-lit lantern hung on the wall across the room by a set of stairs that appeared to be the only way in or out.

  The stairs caught my attention.

  My stomach roiled as I pushed to my feet too fast. I braced against the wall behind me long enough to catch my breath and for the room to stop spinni
ng, then staggered toward the stairs. Even with Rya working tirelessly to repair the damage to my body, it protested every inch of the way. The stairs only stood about twenty feet away, but it felt like an eternity before I reached them.

  Just as my right foot touched the bottom step, another set of footsteps, almost too quiet to hear, echoed above me. The sour taste of fear coated the back of my tongue as dread slithered down my spine. Khalid. I was in no shape to fight him again. My hands suddenly felt clammy and my body broke out into a cold sweat.

  “Going somewhere?” The soft, feminine voice had a slight Russian flavor to it. Definitely not Khalid’s.

  I exhaled, letting some of the fear and tension go with it, but didn’t relax. I still had no idea where I was or if the young girl descending the stairs toward me was friend or foe. Probably the latter, considering my accommodations.

  She appeared to be no more than seventeen, with black and blue hair that shimmered, like the iridescence of a blackbird’s wings. She had it braided into pigtails on either side of her head, and it swung from side to side with each step she took, adding to her adolescent appearance. The strip of red ribbon tied at the top of each pigtail matched her outfit. She wore a bright red bustier that feathered into a skirt, cascading down to her knees. The whole thing was covered in black lace with little starbursts scattered throughout, the front laced up with thin black ribbon. Black fishnet stockings added color to her otherwise pale skin. The skirt swished as she came ever closer.

  The infinity stud she had pierced through her nose caught my attention. My blood ran cold. This mild mannered “girl” standing just feet from me with her nonthreatening pigtails and cherry red lipstick was a vampire.

  I backed up several feet.