by Tim O'Rourke
Vampires of Maze
(Beautiful Immortals Series Two)
Part Four
BY
Tim O’Rourke
First Edition Published by Ravenwoodgreys
Copyright 2016 by Tim O’Rourke
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organisations is entirely coincidental.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Story Editor
Lynda O’Rourke
Book cover designed by:
Tom O’Rourke
Copyedited by:
Carolyn M. Pinard
www.cjpinard.com
For Richard
More books by Tim O’Rourke
Kiera Hudson Series One
Vampire Shift (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 1
Vampire Wake (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 2
Vampire Hunt (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 3
Vampire Breed (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 4
Wolf House (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 5
Vampire Hollows (Kiera Hudson Series 1) Book 6
Kiera Hudson Series Two
Dead Flesh (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 1
Dead Night (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 2
Dead Angels (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 3
Dead Statues (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 4
Dead Seth (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 5
Dead Wolf (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 6
Dead Water (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 7
Dead Push (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 8
Dead Lost (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 9
Dead End (Kiera Hudson Series 2) Book 10
Kiera Hudson Series Three
The Creeping Men (Kiera Hudson Series Three) Book 1
The Lethal Infected (Kiera Hudson Series Three) Book 2
The Adoring Artist (Kiera Hudson Series Three) Book 3
The Secret Identity (Kiera Hudson Series Three) Book 4
The White Wolf (Kiera Hudson Series Three) Book 5
The Kiera Hudson Prequels
The Kiera Hudson Prequels (Book One)
The Kiera Hudson Prequels (Book Two)
Kiera Hudson & Sammy Carter
Vampire Twin (Pushed Trilogy) Book 1
Vampire Chronicle (Pushed Trilogy) Book 2
The Alternate World of Kiera Hudson
Wolf Shift
Werewolves of Shade
Werewolves of Shade (Part One)
Werewolves of Shade (Part Two)
Werewolves of Shade (Part Three)
Werewolves of Shade (Part Four)
Werewolves of Shade (Part Five)
Werewolves of Shade (Part Six)
Vampires of Maze
Vampires of Maze (Part One)
Vampires of Maze (Part Two)
Vampires of Maze (Part Three)
Vampires of Maze (Part Four)
Moon Trilogy
Moonlight (Moon Trilogy) Book 1
Moonbeam (Moon Trilogy) Book 2
Moonshine (Moon Trilogy) Book 3
The Jack Seth Novellas
Hollow Pit (Book One)
Black Hill Farm (Books 1 & 2)
Black Hill Farm (Book 1)
Black Hill Farm: Andy’s Diary (Book 2)
Sydney Hart Novels
Witch (A Sydney Hart Novel) Book 1
Yellow (A Sydney Hart Novel) Book 2
The Doorways Saga
Doorways (Doorways Saga Book 1)
The League of Doorways (Doorways Saga Book 2)
The Queen of Doorways (Doorways Saga Book 3)
The Tessa Dark Trilogy
Stilts (Book 1)
Zip (Book 2)
The Mechanic
The Mechanic
The Dark Side of Nightfall Trilogy
The Dark Side of Nightfall (Book One)
The Dark Side of Nightfall (Book Two)
The Dark Side of Nightfall (Book Three)
Samantha Carter Series
Vampire Seeker (Book One)
Vampire Flappers (Book Two)
Vampire Watchmen (Book Three)
Unscathed
Written by Tim O’Rourke & C.J. Pinard
You can contact Tim O’Rourke at
www.kierahudson.com or by email at [email protected]
Vampires of Maze
(Part Four)
This story is set in a where and when not too dissimilar to our own…
Chapter One
In the light cast by the candle, and using my fingers like a set of tweezers, I pinched one of the black hairs that sprouted from the wound on my neck. The hair felt coarse and prickly. I gave the single hair a sharp tug and I cried out in pain. A burning sensation like I had been stung by a wasp shot up my neck and into my jawline. I let go of the hair, screwing my eyes shut in pain. With tears streaming the length of my face, I gripped the edge of the sink, bent forward until the burning sensation had subsided. Opening my eyes again, I inspected the hairs. I tilted my head toward the mirror. Very gently, I brushed my fingertips over them. Just knowing that they were there made me feel ill. Not only were they unsightly, but they suggested I was something I was not – something I was not meant to have ever been. But the sickness I felt in the pit of my stomach wasn’t only there because my attempt to pluck out the hair had been excruciating, but I also feared that Calix’s bite had somehow infected me. Had some of his own blood, saliva, or venom seeped into my veins when his pointed teeth had punctured my skin? Could being bitten by Calix really turn me into a wolf? That would be impossible, right? I’d never heard of such a thing, but just because I hadn’t, didn’t mean that such a thing wasn’t possible. I had no way of finding out. There was no one here in this world for me to ask. The only people I could even begin to imagine would know such a thing would be the Elders from my own race of people. But they weren’t here – they were in another layer. And as far as I was aware, and if what Morten had said was true, there were no more witches in this world either. Morten had told me they had fled the town called Twisted Den where they had once lived in this world. But the not knowing scared me. I didn’t think I could bear the thought of not knowing whether I’d been infected by Calix in some way.
As I inspected the wound once more in the mirror, I tried to tell myself that perhaps it was just that the wound was infected – that it was just the area around the bite mark where the bristling black hairs were that was poisoned. The sight of those hairs didn’t necessarily mean I would change into a wolf. How could a single bite completely change my entire anatomy? But a vampire’s bite could turn a human. But I wasn’t human, I was a Wicce.
Whatever those hairs meant, I couldn’t bear the sight of them. I had to get rid of them in some way. Turning away from the mirror and snatching up the candle, I left the bathroom and went once more into the study. I crossed the room to the desk and pulled open the top drawer. Trying to suppress the anxiousness and despair I could feel rising within me, I searched the contents of the drawer. There were pens and paper, paperclips and a stapler. My fingers brushed over a ro
ll of sticky-tape and a ball of string. Then, to my relief, I found what I hoped I might discover. Closing my fingers around the small pair of scissors, I returned to the bathroom. With the candle in one hand and the scissors in the other, I tilted my head to one side to expose the right side of my neck. Very carefully, I caught one of the hairs between the scissor blades and screwed my eyes shut. I cut the long spiky black hair. This time, much to my relief, there was no pain. It was as painless as cutting away a single hair from my head. I glanced down into the sink and could see the single black hair. To see it lying there against the white porcelain made me feel sick once more. Knowing I now had a way of ridding myself of those hairs, I wasted no time in snipping away at the rest of them.
Once they were all lying in the sink, I turned on the tap and watched them swirl away down the plughole. Setting down the scissors, I gently brushed my fingertips over the wound. Although the hairs were no longer visible, the patch of skin from where they had sprouted felt coarse like the stubbly chin of a man who hadn’t shaved for a day or more. Would they grow back? I had no real way of knowing for sure and that was what scared me more than anything.
Still feeling a little sick, my skin feverishly hot and my body continuing to ache, I left the bathroom and went back to my bedroom. Although my body craved sleep, I felt unable to do so. My mind was a clattering jangle of questions and uncertainties. There was no way I was going to get any more sleep tonight. How could I? Not only had I woken to find a disgusting crop of hairs growing from the wound in my neck, I’d also discovered someone had been creeping around my house in the dark. They had stolen the spell book I had come into this world with. I feared that if I fell asleep again, the intruder, whomever that was, might return. And if he or she did, despite feeling tired and exhausted, I wanted to be awake so as to discover their identity. So snuffing out the candle, I pulled a blanket from the bed and wrapped it tight about my shoulders. I sat in a chair by the window where I could look out across the park that stretched away from the front of my house. From here I would be able to see anyone approach. But who was it I was expecting to see? Calix? Trent? Rush? Morten or Rea? And it was her name that sat front and centre in my befuddled mind. That warning Calix had given me about not making an enemy in Rea rang in my ears. I knew that she didn’t like me; that was plainly obvious. Her sole reason for not doing so was that she believed I was interested in Trent. She was just being paranoid. But was I being paranoid about her? Just because she suffered from jealousy didn’t really mean that she would break into my house during the night and steal the spell book from me. What possible reason could Rea have for wanting it? It was no use to her or any of the wolves, so why steal it? The only way I would ever discover the truth was by finding the spell book. But where did I even begin to look? There was no clue that I could see. Whoever had taken it, Rea or not, must have had a reason to do so and that reason, I doubted very much, was a good one. Whether Calix had been right about not making an enemy in Rea or not, there was one thing I could be sure of and that was one of my companions truly was my enemy. But why? What had I ever done to any of them? I had only come into this world to find peace – to bring an end to the war between the vampires and werewolves. Couldn’t whoever had stolen the spell book see that? Did they want the war to continue? But why? Wouldn’t it be in the werewolves’ best interest to resolve the war once and for all? The werewolves were vastly outnumbered. The vampires were winning – that’s if they hadn’t won already. The vampires had conquered much of this world. They had enslaved the humans and brought the werewolf race to the brink of extinction. What possible reason could there be for one of the werewolves I travelled with to steal the spell book? Had the thief not seen the magical spell I’d cast over Shade? Did they not realise it was magic that was going to protect them and keep them safe? Or did the thief fear that with the aid of the spell book, my magic might grow strong again and I might turn it against the wolves? But why wouldn’t they want my magic to grow strong again? It was stopping the vampires from entering the town of Shade and killing us all.
The never-ending stream of questions that knotted my mind only cast my fears and doubts into a deeper darkness. I felt tired and weary. I looked out across the park and as I kept watch I couldn’t even muster the strength to stop my eyes from closing.
Chapter Two
The voice sounded old and broken. The sound of my name being called was like a scratch across my eardrums. My eyes fluttered open and I peered about the bedroom. Washed-out daylight filled my room and I realised however hard I’d tried to stay awake, I had finally succumbed to my tiredness and fallen asleep in the chair by the window. The feverish feeling I felt had lessened, and taking one hand from under the blanket which covered me, I touched my brow. Instead of feeling hot, my skin now felt cold and clammy.
“Julia! Julia!” Someone called my name. As before, the voice was old and craggy.
Still coming awake, I twisted in the chair and peered out of the window in the direction the voice was coming from. Morten stood in the front yard next to the ancient and twisted tree, its black branches snaking up into the morning sky like claws.
Seeing my pale face at the window, Morten called up to me once more. “Julia! Julia!”
His voice sounded so sharp and brittle I wanted to cover my ears with my hands and scream. My brain still felt sore and tender from lack of sleep. Reaching out from beneath the blanket, I pushed open the window an inch or two. Before I’d a chance to say anything, Morten called out to me again.
“Everyone is waiting for you by the wall,” he said, his voice a little less jarring.
“Waiting for me by the wall?” I said, beginning to wonder if I still wasn’t trapped in a dream somewhere. I didn’t have the faintest idea what Morten was talking about.
“Trent said that you’d agreed to meet us this morning to show us how to get through the wall – how to break through the magic should we ever need to leave Shade,” Morten said.
Looking out of the window, I stared down at him staring back up at me. And in the grey morning light his face looked just as painfully thin and pointed. His eye sockets and cheeks were hollowed inwards. Although I hadn’t seen Morten for at least two weeks, Trent had told me that Morten had taken up residency in the local church. Morten still wore the same crumpled and shabby black suit and tatty bowler hat. As I looked at his long and narrow face, I remembered that I had indeed promised Trent I would meet him and the others to show them how to pass through the wall I’d cast around Shade.
“Don’t just sit there gawping, girl,” Morten shouted at me. “Get yourself together and get down here.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, pulling myself from the clutches of sleep. “Give me five minutes and I’ll come down to join you.”
“I’ll give you two,” Morten called up at me.
Throwing the blanket to one side, I got up out of the chair. “What’s the rush?” I muttered to myself, slipping out of the pyjamas I’d been wearing. I let them drop to the floor at the foot of the bed. Snatching some fresh clothes and underwear from the drawer, I left my bedroom.
There wasn’t time to shower. In the bathroom, I cleaned my teeth and scooped my hair back into a ponytail. With my hair free of my face, I tilted my head to one side and looked into the mirror. To my relief the hairs hadn’t grown back – not yet, anyway. I brushed my fingers over the purple and green wound, and just as it had been the night before, the area around the cut and where the hairs had been felt like an unshaven chin. Not wanting the bite-mark to be on show for the others to see, I put on a sweatshirt and pulled up the hood. Wearing the faded jeans with the turn-ups, I pulled on my boots and left the house, closing the door behind me.
Morten beckoned me forward with one bony hand. “Come on, Julia, the others are waiting.” Without saying anything more, he turned his stooped and narrow back on me and headed away down the front garden path and through the gate.
“Perhaps if someone hadn’t broken into my house last night I wouldn
’t have been woken-up and spent the rest of the night sitting by the window too scared to go back to sleep,” I muttered under my breath with disdain.
“Did you say something?” Morten asked, turning to look back at me as he passed through the gate.
I shook my head. “No, it’s nothing.”
With an audible grunt and a shrug of his shoulders, Morten turned once more and set out across the park, his long, spindly legs opening and closing like a pair of giant scissors. What little sun there was, was pale and hazy, but it was strong enough to stretch Morten’s shadow out behind him like some ghostly apparition. As I followed behind him, I knew that it wasn’t just the intruder that had disturbed my sleep and left me feeling tired and drawn. It was the nightmare I’d had that was also responsible. It was remembering those dead humans bleeding out on the road that had forced me awake. It was bad enough that my sleep was haunted by such memories; did I need my waking hours to be filled with them, too? So pushing those memories of Theo and what we had done from my mind, I quickened my pace and drew level with Morten.
As he passed the old schoolhouse and the swing that still continued to sway back and forth even though there seemed to be very little wind, I glanced sideways at Morten and said, “What happened when I collapsed?”
“You fell over and dropped to the ground,” Morten said. “What more is there to say? Hasn’t Trent already told you what happened?”
Morten was right, Trent had told me what had happened, but there was a part of me that wanted to hear it from Morten. Although he was a werewolf just like the others, I sensed he was somewhat independent of them. He wasn’t really a member of their pack. Sure, he was the same species as Trent and the others, but Morten hadn’t travelled across the seas with them. There was no previous connection between Morten, Trent, and the others. He knew them about as well as I did. So maybe I could trust Morten more than I could any of the others.
“Yes, Trent did mention it but I want to hear it from you what happened,” I said.
