by Wendi Wilson
Persuade
Wendi L Wilson
Copyright ©2018 by Wendi L. Wilson
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, or distributed, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who my quote brief passages for review purposes.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Design by Molly Phipps
www.wegotyoucoveredbookdesign.com
Created with Vellum
For my family, who put up with my obsession with this book and kept me stocked in coffee gift cards.
I love you.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Untitled
Afterword
Acknowledgments
Untitled
Purify Chapter One
Untitled
Also by Wendi L Wilson
Chapter One
He silenced me with a look. The torrent of insults ready to spew from my mouth caught in my throat as my heart began to pound. He bumped into me, causing me to drop my books, my papers flying everywhere, and he deserved to be flayed by my infamously wicked tongue. But I couldn’t get a single word to pass my lips. One look into his silver-rimmed gray eyes and I knew. It was totally obvious what he was, though I’d never met one before. He was my first. He was a vampire.
Okay, so he wasn’t a real vampire. He couldn’t have been. Vampires don’t exist. He was an Alt. Homo Altiorem was the scientific name for his kind. It meant higher human. Yeah, as in, higher on the food chain.
A flash of fear zipped through me at the thought. I didn’t know if it flickered in my eyes, or if he heard my miniscule intake of breath, or hell, maybe he could smell it. It could have been any of those. But if the look of satisfaction he shot me before stalking away was any indication, my apprehension gave him great pleasure.
“Jerk,” I mumbled, dropping down on all fours to gather my things.
“Excuse me?”
The voice poured over me, deep and rich like molasses. I looked up, disbelief making my mouth drop open. He was half way down the hall one second and looming over me the next.
“Wh-what?” I said, flinching. I hadn’t stuttered since I was a kid.
I forced my feet beneath me and pushed myself up. No way was I going to talk to my first Alt on my hands and knees. My eyes narrowed against my will. I still had to look up at him. He was tall, taller than my own lofty height of five-foot-ten.
“I wondered what you said to my back as I walked away. It sounded suspiciously like an insult,” he said.
Okay. My mama didn’t raise me to be stupid or reckless, but she did grace me with a notorious southern temper. It always reared its ugly head at the most inconvenient of times, and I could feel my blood warming beneath his condescending stare. He was trying to scare me, and that pissed me off.
“I was only callin’ it like I was seein’ it, buddy,” I said, exaggerating my southern accent and poking a finger into his chest.
His eyes widened and he took a small step back. I took advantage of his momentary shock and turned on my heel. I stalked away, my back rigid and my head held high. I had to fight myself with every step, forcing my eyes to remain straight ahead.
Do not look back. Do not look back, I chanted over and over in my head. But as I turned the corner to head down the hall to chemistry, I just couldn’t resist. I had to see.
I flicked my eyes in the direction from which I had come and bit back a gasp. He was there, only a few feet behind me, walking slowly in the same direction as me. I picked up my step and whipped around the corner, but not before I got a look at his face. He was smiling. It was a real smile, bright and genuine, and it was devastating.
I fell into my desk and let my warm cheek rest against the cool wooden surface. I had no clue what I was thinking. He was an Alt, for Christ’s sake. I pivoted my head and banged my forehead against the desktop until Mr. Gillespie cleared his throat and called the class to attention.
I stared out the window, unable to concentrate on his lecture. I couldn’t believe we had an Alt at our school and I hadn’t heard anything about it. Well, it wasn’t really that big of a stretch. I didn’t really have any friends to gossip with. Everyone else in school probably knew before he even stepped foot on campus. It had to have had everyone buzzing. An Alt. At our dinky little school.
A couple of decades or so ago, these scientists at a lab up in New York thought they had discovered the fountain of youth. Not literally, of course. They developed a serum called XRT-90 that was supposed to slow the aging process, keeping its user young and healthy for many years. At least, that was the theory.
They ran trial tests on a group of one hundred twenty-somethings, but things did not go as the creators of XRT-90 had hoped. The test group got sick. Really sick. A few of them actually died. None of them stopped aging. It was a complete and utter failure.
An unexpected side effect occurred in the female test subjects. Their fertility rate flew off the charts. They were getting pregnant, fast, with many of them giving birth to multiples. But there was something off about the babies. They were always sickly, not accepting of their mother’s milk or baby formula in a bottle. A few of the babies starved to death before a pediatrician in Buffalo figured out that one of her patients needed something different.
She had ordered blood tests, discovering that he was highly anemic and had an extremely low hemoglobin count. The doctor ordered a blood bag to be delivered straight to her office, rather than referring the family to a hospital. She attached an IV and left the baby in a bassinet while turning back to explain her care plan to his parents. When they wrapped up their discussion and turned back to the baby, they were horrified with what they found.
He had somehow detached the tube from the needle in his arm and was sucking the blood from the tube into his mouth. He was peaceful and content, probably for the first time in his short life. He drank and drank and, when he was full, looked at his mother and cooed softly before falling asleep. That’s how it was discovered that Alts needed blood to survive instead of food. Just like a vampire.
It wasn’t until the babies started to grow into toddlers that the other stuff came to light. Persuasion. That’s the official term because it doesn’t sound as sinister as mind control. Once the oldest of the babies were developed enough to make decisions, they were able to exert their will over their own parents. All they had to do was make eye contact and the adult was theirs to command. They didn’t even have to speak the words aloud. When the news broke out about this development, the entire world was terrified.
And the teeth
, sharp enough to take what they needed if—
“Savanna.”
My entire body jerked and I was yanked back into the present. “Yes, Mr. Gillespie?”
The sound of several students snickering met my ears, causing my face to heat up. I hated being the center of attention.
“If you are done daydreaming, I’d like you to give us the chemical formula for glucose.”
“C-six, H-twelve, O-six,” I said, my voice just barely loud enough to be heard.
“Very good,” he said, before moving on with his lecture.
I forced all thoughts of Alts, and one in particular, out of my mind for the rest of the class. At least, I tried not to think about those gray eyes, rimmed with bright silver. They were strange, seriously eerie, and more than a little intimidating. They were also completely and absolutely unforgettable.
Chapter Two
Holy crap.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. I pushed my fists into my sockets, rubbing hard before blinking and looking again. Two tables over, six matching eyes stared at me from three matching faces. Triplets. There wasn’t one Alt enrolled in my school, there were three.
I realized I was staring and dropped my eyes to my lunch tray. I don’t know which was worse— the Alts seeing me stare or them seeing the pathetic fact that I was sitting at lunch, alone. I felt my face heat with embarrassment.
The odds were stacked against me from birth when my parents named me Savanna. I was born in Savannah, Georgia and we lived in a small, rinky-dink town just south of the city built along an off-shoot of the Wilmington River. Basically, we lived in Savannah.
In kindergarten, the kids started calling me Savanna from Savannah, which brought forth the aforementioned southern temper. I tried to explain that my parents named me after the grasslands in Africa, not the city. They said when I was born I had a head full of wheat-colored hair, so it was either Savanna or Wheaten. Until kindergarten, I was always glad they chose Savanna.
My explanation didn’t work. The kids only laughed louder and that’s when I blew. I socked one boy right in the mouth and grabbed a little girl by the hair and yanked her to the ground. I’ve always been tall, and even when I was young I towered over other kids my age. They never stood a chance.
That’s when the stuttering started. The doctors told my parents it was a psychological response. The kids were mean to me, I assaulted them and was suspended for a week. When I returned to class, no one would talk to me. So, my brain would glitch whenever I tried to speak, nervous of the response I would get.
So, there I was, a mean-tempered giant with a stutter named Savanna… in Savannah. No wonder I never made any friends. I eventually stopped trying. Once I accepted my solitude, my stutter went away. I stopped caring and that fixed me. But it was too late. I had no desire for any of those so-called friends. I was just fine on my own.
I snuck a glance across the lunch room and found the triplets still staring in my direction. One of them spoke, and I was pretty sure he was the one I ran into this morning. Or rather, he ran into me. He had an air about him, almost haughty in nature. I could tell he thought his you-know-what didn’t stink.
Remembering his superior attitude, my embarrassment fled. I narrowed my eyes at him, refusing to be the first to look away. Sometimes my temper and pride worked together, making me one of the stupidest people on Earth. This was one of those times. I lifted one side of my mouth into a snarl.
The one next to him threw his head back and laughed. I forgot all about my battle of wills with the arrogant one and stared at his brother. He smiled broadly, causing the skin around his eyes to crinkle in an attractive way. Pearly teeth flashed as he stared back at me. Sharp, pearly teeth. My eyes flew back to my food of their own accord.
“Dammit,” I cursed under my breath.
There I was, determined to prove how brave and badass I was, and one flash of teeth reduced me to a quivering mass of goo. I took a deep breath and released it slowly through my nose. Clenching my jaw, I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment before looking back up. Happy triplet was still smiling, all dimples and, thankfully, no teeth. I fought the urge to smile back. The battle was tough. Something about his smile made me warm all over.
My eyes darted back to the arrogant one. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t frowning, either. He just looked bored, pushing food around his tray with his fork. I had no clue why they even bought food. Everyone knew Alts didn’t eat anything, just…blood. A shiver ran through me and I shook it off. Maybe they were just trying to fit in at a new school.
I looked at the third brother, studying him for the first time. His head was hanging down, his tray pushed aside and an open book in its place. As I watched, he licked his finger before flipping the page. Something about that simple action struck a chord in me. A chord I’d never felt before.
I sucked in a sharp breath. It wasn’t loud enough for someone sitting next to me to hear, but three sets of gray eyes flew toward me as soon as the breath hit my lungs. One set narrowed, another brightened with interest, and the third widened with confusion.
I panicked a little. I didn’t know Alts had super hearing abilities. Sure, the first one heard me call him a jerk from down the hall, but that’s not nearly as unbelievable as all three of them hearing me take a breath in a crowded, noisy cafeteria from at least fifteen yards away.
I stood, nearly tripping over my bench seat in the process of stepping over it. Once I regained my balance, I grabbed my half-eaten lunch and walked toward the trash cans. Dumping it and placing the tray on its shelf, I squared my shoulders and walked from the cafeteria. I forced myself to keep my eyes off of them, but I felt their stares burning into my back as I walked away.
I picked up the pace and was practically running by the time I hit the door to the girl’s bathroom and pushed my way inside. I ran to the last stall and locked the door behind me. Leaning against the wall, I took a few deep breaths to get my racing heart under control. As my angst drained out of me, I filled back up with indignation.
I swung my arm, punching the side of my fist into the wall behind me, then shook my hand to lessen the sting. I couldn’t believe I let them get to me. Of course, they were frightening, advanced, dangerous versions of regular boys and I had every reason to be afraid. But that scared girl was not the impression I wanted to give anyone, much less three gorgeous vampires intent on intimidating me.
Alts, not vampires, I corrected myself mentally. It’s not pc to call them vampires. I am not one of those crazy Purists.
The Purists were a religious group, and I use religious in the loosest sense of the word, that believed we should rid the Earth of all Alts. They were unnatural, therefore ungodly, and needed to be exterminated before they tainted the world with their devil’s spawn. That’s a direct quote from their propaganda. Their intolerant point of view almost made me laugh. Almost.
I froze as the door to the bathroom swung open and I heard footsteps entering the space. For a second, I thought the boys had followed me here. I berated myself for thinking it. They had no reason to follow me anywhere, much less into the girl’s bathroom.
“Did you see them?” a high-pitched voice asked as the sound of a zipper met my ears.
“Yes,” said another voice, accompanied by the sound of a compact snapping shut. “One of them is in my trig class, second period. I just about died when he walked in. I wonder if I can switch to another class.” The disgust in her voice was palpable. Future Purist, I bet.
“Why would you go and do a thing like that?” the first girl asked, her voice rising slightly. “Those boys are about as hot as noon on the fourth of July and I’m gonna get me one of ‘em. I don’t even care which. Mark my words, Lizzie. I’ll have them fightin’ over me in no time.”
The door swung open and their voices faded away as it shut behind them. I released a breath I’d been holding. As soon as the girl said the name Lizzie, I realized who they were. Fiona Butler and Lizzie Williams. The former was queen bee of the senior clas
s, if not the whole school. Lizzie was her minion, beautiful in her own right, but she couldn’t hold a candle to Fiona. No one could.
With hair so black, it almost shone blue in the right light, and bright green eyes, she was Chatham County’s reigning beauty queen. She’d won every beauty contest in the region since she was five. Too bad her inside didn’t match the outside. She was my chief tormentor in kindergarten and held the position all the way through middle school.
That was when I became invisible next to the lure of cute boys. As long as I kept myself out of her limelight, she forgot I even existed. Which was good, because my temper always got me into trouble. And Fiona used that to her advantage whenever she could. The class pariah versus the county jewel? I always took the brunt of the punishment in our verbal scuffles.
I unlocked the stall door and opened it a crack, peeking through. Once I determined the coast was indeed clear, I walked to the sink and turned on the cold water. Splashing some on my face, I looked in the mirror and watched the beads of water drip down my make-up free face.
Fiona and one of the brothers? The thought caused my lips to turn down. It shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did. Not because I wanted them for myself. That was just ludicrous. But the thought of her getting one of them, just to add another notch to her belt, so to speak, made me feel ill.
Maybe I should warn them about her, I thought. Talk about ludicrous. Me, warning them? That’s just crazy.
