Stalked (A Secret Salem Novel)

by J. N. Colon

  The gym was dressed in typical Halloween decor—not that it needed it to look spooky. The bleachers were pressed against the walls, creating a seamless line continuing to the second floor where stone archways towered into the cathedral ceiling. You’d think the glossy mahogany floors and stain glass windows would be out of place in a high school gym. Not here. The contrasting mixture was identical to the rest of Highland—a little bit of ritz and a whole lot of creepy. Tonight it was sprinkled with extra ghoulish embellishments of spider webs, ghosts, bats, and skeletons.

  Actually that might be a real bat flying in a shadowed corner of the ceiling, those dark wings fluttering a little too life-like.

  “Did you pick out Jackson’s costume,” I asked Madison, yelling over the speakers blaring “I am a Vampire” by Vast as we danced.

  Her wolfish grin gave her vampire costume more of a sinister edge. Of course she couldn’t be one of those pretty sparkly vampires. Not Madison. She went old school horror with a tight black dress that belled out at the sleeves. A black wig streaked with gray covered her black and scarlet hair, hanging down to her mid back. The thick white powder covering her face contrasted dramatically with her crimson lips and two pointed fangs rested inside her mouth. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “What can I say? I’m sneaky.” She picked up her scarlet lined cape and spun in circles.

  We were both laughing as Jackson danced up beside us. “What’s so funny?”

  I pointed to Madison.

  He smiled. “Do you mind if I cut in,” he asked her.

  “Be my guest.” She winked behind his back.

  Jackson pulled me closer. “I saw Rubi McHale dancing with the devil tonight.”

  “You don’t say.”

  We danced for a while, being silly and making fun of the chaperones. Professor Larkin was a mad scientist, his gray hair splayed out from his head like he’d been electrocuted. Professor Allan was a puritan, probably to remind us our Crucible essays were due soon. Professor Forsyth was even present, dressed as a crotchety old man with a sourpuss expression, watching the crowd with beady eyes. Oh wait—that wasn’t a costume. It was just him.

  When a slow song filtered through the speakers we both turned awkward, our bodies going rigid. Slight tremors resonated through Jackson’s hands as he put them around my waist and pulled me close. It took a minute to relax, but once I did it felt nice.

  I rested my head on Jackson’s shoulder as we swayed to the music, breathing in his clean soap scent that was mixed with the smell of the gym. A smile slowly broke across my lips. “Have you been practicing basketball today?”

  “Yeah. A little earlier. How’d you know?”

  “I’m a witch. I have magical powers.”

  His chuckled resonated through his chest. “I was nervous about tonight so I thought I’d blow off some steam.”

  I pulled back and peered into his flushed face. “What were you nervous about?”

  His expression turned incredulous. “You make me nervous.”

  “Why?”

  Jackson shook his head. “That’s a long conversation. Maybe we can talk about it later tonight.”

  I grinned and rested my head back on his shoulder. I think he was asking for a night cap after the dance. And I think I just agreed.

  “I’m going to get some punch. Do you want some?” I asked Jackson while we were hanging out near the apple bobbing station. Couldn’t have a Halloween dance without one of those. Of course most of the girls steered clear afraid of marring their makeup.

  “I’ll get it,” he said, but I put a hand on his arm.

  “I’ll do it. Stay with your friends.” They were in a serious debate over who the better Dracula was, Bela Lugosi or Gary Oldman. Madison was trying to convince them Nosferatu was better than either.

  I headed toward the punch table, dodging a Frankenstein and nearly getting knocked over by a werewolf who couldn’t dance to save his life.

  “Rubi-licious.” Brant was suddenly blocking my path.

  My heart jumped in my throat, still uneasy around him. The feeling multiplied when he mirrored my movements as I tried to bypass him, blocking me. “What do you want Brant?”

  That crocodile grin spread across his face, making him even more rakish. “Unholy hell. You look very witchy.”

  “What are you supposed to be?” His all black attire and black wings contrasted drastically with his golden halo of hair and pale skin.

  “The angel of death.”

  That was an unsettling idea considering I had thought he was linked to the two gruesome deaths of Alyssa and Patrick.

  His hazel eyes slowly drank me in, a hungry gleam entering them. “Save me a dance?”

  My lip curled in annoyance. “I’m sure Aspen would love that.” I finally stepped around him, but I could feel his eyes follow me all the way to the punch table.

  A tall, strapping guy with midnight hair was leaning against the spookily decorated table, sipping the scarlet punch. His jade eyes widened as they landed on me. “Rubi?” he sputtered, nearly choking.

  “Ooooh be careful. Someone might see you talking to me,” I teased.

  He ignored my taunt and continued staring, his eyes wandering over every part of me until heat crept up my throat and into my cheeks. “You look great,” he said, his voice huskier than usual.

  I swallowed hard, attempting to remember how to use my mouth. “Thanks. You too.” Of course he did. He wore a black and gray pinstripe suit with a black shirt and green tie to match his eyes. He had a toy gun in his pocket and a fedora in his hand. He was a gangster and a very handsome one at that. I definitely would have been his dame.

  Oh shut up Rubi.

  “Well, like I said, you better scram before someone sees you talking to me. They might think you’re singing like a canary.”

  He grinned. “I’m supposed to be the gangster here.”

  I shrugged demurely.

  Mac unexpectedly stepped closer, looking as if he didn’t care who saw us talking—until Paisley called his name. His eyes dulled and he mumbled something before stalking away.

  Paisley was dressed as a twenty’s flapper girl with a black beaded dress and silky black bob wig. She looked perfect of course. Her cobalt eyes narrowed at me, a scowl distorting her features. She did not look pleased to find her boyfriend talking to me. Not at all. But once Mac was in front of her the disdain melted from her expression replaced by a saccharine sweetness that made me want to hurl. She wound her arm around his, latching on in a possessive grip.

  My heart ached and the gym suddenly felt too crowded. I’d rather be outside, shivering in the cold autumn night. At least I didn’t have to worry about being mauled by an animal anymore.

  The chilly wind swished the changing leaves on the maples, oaks, and birches, creating a dry, rustling song through the campus. The moon and stars shone hazily through a thin layer of clouds against the pitch sky. My breath fogged in front of me as I walked somberly, thinking of Mac and hating myself for it. I must be a masochist. I knew sitting in the library with him would make me feel like crap the next time he ignored me in public. I was an idiot to think he would change his mind.

  I was an even bigger idiot for wanting Mac when I should be terrified of him. Brant wasn’t the only one who could work a hyno spell. Mac had even tried it on me and would have done it had it worked.

  What was it about McCollum Davenport that made me so stupid?

  I sighed and rubbed my hands down my arms, sullenly watching misty fog swirl around my boots as I pictured all the reasons that guy made my knees tremble. When my eyes flickered back up I nearly jumped ten feet.

  “What are you doing?” I hissed, glaring at Brant who was standing directly in front me.

  His smile stretched crookedly over his face that was shadowed a little too much for my liking like the rest of him that was dressed in all black, blending in with the night. “I thought you were going to save me a dance Rubi.”

  My cheeks flushed with ange
r and I clenched my hands by my sides, having had enough of his crap. “Leave me alone.”

  He shrugged out of his black wings, discarding them on the giant roots of a tree. “You’ve made that quite impossible.” He stepped closer, the moonlight illuminating his blonde hair. “You look way too delicious tonight. All that red…”

  I rolled my eyes and attempted to walk away, but he grabbed me.

  “Look at me Rubi.” His voice took on that melodic tone it had the night of the party.

  Unease flowed through my veins, turning them ice cold. Oh no. Here we go again.

  That crawling sensation exploded across my flesh and I gritted my teeth to keep from groaning in a mixture of fear and frustration. What was I supposed to do now? I wouldn’t go along with him to any secret room where he could do as he pleased with me. Maybe if I scream really loud…

  “It’s Halloween and I want to play a little game,” he crooned, his hooded eyes going liquid. “You’re going to run and I’m going to chase you.”

  I tried to keep the confusion from my face as not to alert him I wasn’t under his spell, but seriously. What the hell? How twisted was he?

  Brant slowly backed away. “Run Rubi.” He didn’t need black wings to look like the angel of death. His dark, hungry expression was enough to make me cower in fear.

  Panic poured down my back like ice water, making my body shiver from terror. Brant’s eyes were growing unnaturally bright and when the moonlight struck them they reflected silver.

  I stood trembling, my breath fogging in front of me in quick little puffs. Silver eyes… like nocturnal animals… like animals who attack… animal attacks at Highland.

  And then I watched Brant’s lips ominously curl back to reveal two perfectly white, perfectly sharp… fangs.

  “Run!”

  Chapter 19

  I sprinted through the thickening fog, roots and undergrowth grabbing the bottom of my skirt to slow me. Fear and adrenaline shook my pulse and a cold sweat beaded across my skin. I couldn’t see or hear him, but I knew Brant was close behind. I could feel his dark presence closing in, scattering fear down my back.

  He’s a vampire!

  They were vampires. Not witches. Vampires!

  Did that make Mac a vampire too?

  Damn it. Focus Rubi.

  The night was unbelievably dark now with no sign of the moon or stars. The sky was impenetrable blackness and I was lost in it and the fog swirling in my path. I skidded on a patch of dry leaves and grabbed a gnarled tree trunk to stop from falling. I ran so hard my lungs hurt and muscles ached in fiery pain despite the frigid air.

  I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to be shredded apart by some psycho, murderous vampire. I did not want to end up like Alyssa and Patrick, my life stolen by a supernatural creature stalking the night.

  A cold, hard hand grabbed my arm, fingers painfully digging into my flesh. Trees, fog, and darkness spun through my vision as he whirled me around, his eyes shining silver instead of hazel and filled with a burning hunger that shook my very core. Those sharp white fangs gleamed through his expressive lips, but the only things they were conveying now were excitement and thirst.

  “You don’t know how much I’ve thought about this moment.” Brant’s voice snaked out rough and somehow still laced with honey. His head sprang forward and fangs sank into my neck.

  Red hot, blinding pain!

  I wanted to scream or at least cry out, but his hand covered my mouth while the other held me against a tree, the rough bark digging into my back barely resonating compared to the agony of his bite. My quivering pulse radiated through my body and I could feel energy leaching away from my muscles with every drop of my blood Brant sucked up.

  He’s killed people. He tore their throats out and ripped their flesh apart. And now he was going to do the same to me.

  Not if I could help it.

  My hand brushed against a sharp, low lying branch, remembering most of the lore about vampires stated that wooden stakes would kill them. Or in the very least hurt like the dickens.

  I snapped it off, Brant too busy making slurping, moaning noises to notice.

  When he finally withdrew his face was dreamy and lips smeared crimson. “Fun. Yeah?”

  I stabbed him.

  It wasn’t even close to the heart, but he groaned and buckled over with a look of total shock.

  Then I ran.

  A sudden burst of adrenaline pushed me forward, ignoring my weak, shaking body and the pain in my neck. It even made me forget the icy chill of night. He’d been chasing me the opposite direction of the gym so I ran toward the nearest building, which held classes, praying it was unlocked. I wasn’t dying tonight if I could help it.

  I had been so sure they were witches. Everything pointed to that theory—the Celtic symbols, the old book they carried around, the strange secret room, the hypnosis, what I saw with Tatum, Emmaline and Tristan. None of it screamed vampire.

  Okay, maybe the hypnosis and their eerie, unnatural beauty. And the way Tristan, Brant, and Mac looked at me when I cut my finger. And the strange bruise on Aspen’s neck… and Patrick and Aspen both dazedly telling me how thirsty they were… Oh man I was a freaking idiot.

  I burst through the double doors, my heels echoing against the hardwood floor. The dimly lit halls were deserted, but it felt as if Brant was right on my tail and would barrel toward me at any second to finish the job.

  I was nearing the corner when I smacked into something big and warm. A scream tore out my throat and I stumbled back. Pale hands gripped my shoulders before I fell.

  “Rubi!”

  I struggled uselessly until I registered those deep green eyes and midnight hair. Mac.

  Shouldn’t I still be afraid? He was one of them.

  He shook me, his face panicked. “What happened?”

  I realized tears were streaming from my eyes and I was trembling so hard my teeth chattered.

  Mac’s gaze flickered to my neck and saw the bleeding, scarlet wound. His eyes were completely blank for a nanosecond before filling with an anger so strong it made them glow like two twin fires in a dark forest. “Who did it?” His voice rippled out low and dangerous, not exactly helping ease the shivers from my body.

  The clank of metal resonated down the hall and Brant rushed inside, his mouth still smeared with my blood. “There she is.” Relief filled his expression, his eyes still gleaming an unnatural shade of liquid silver as he slowed his pace toward us. “I thought I’d have to look for her all night. She’s a slippery one.” He hooked his finger through a hole in his black shirt. “That little minx stabbed me with a branch.”

  Mac was stone still for a millisecond. And then the levy keeping his true anger at bay shattered with an explosive force.

  Rage flashed across his face, pulsing through his entire body. His eyes melted into silver and lips curled back, revealing sharp, lethal fangs. A deep, bone-shaking growl slithered between his teeth and he lunged at Brant so fast he was a blur. They slammed against the lockers, denting them with a loud metallic crunch and both fell to the ground.

  “I told you to stay away from her.” Mac’s voice had never been more terrifying, deep and fury filled.

  I plastered myself against the wainscoted wall, unable to peel my eyes off the fight.

  “I do whatever I want.” Brant kicked him off, throwing him several feet down the hall.

  Mac’s fedora tumbled off, leaving his midnight hair wild around his gunmetal eyes. My pulse raced and—unbelievably—part of it was attraction. I was still drawn to him despite the terrifying scene unfolding.

  “You will do what I say and leave Rubi alone,” Mac growled, vibrating the entire hallway. He lunged at Brant, pinning him to the floor in seconds.

  Brant attempted to roll him off to no avail. “Or what?”

  Mac unexpectedly punched Brant in the face not once, not twice, but three times. “Or I’ll really pull rank.”

  Brant’s struggling stilled. “Yeah right.”
>
  A bitter smile curled Mac’s lips as he stood, pulling Brant with him. “I will.”

  Brant wiped blood from his nose with the back of his hand. “You’re young. You don’t have that much rank yet. Plus I know you hate it.”

  Mac snarled at Brant, his lips curling back against those deadly fangs. A dark, unrecognizable shadow crossed his face, sharpening those cheekbones and contrasting against those silver eyes. “Try me.”

  I remained frozen against the wall, wondering what the hell they were talking about. What kind of rank did Mac have? Was he older than Brant or something? He definitely seemed stronger. But why would he hate that?

  The tension visibly drained from Brant’s body and he straightened his black shirt. “You used to be more fun.”

  “I’m fun enough,” Mac growled.

  And just like that their terrifying fight was over—for now.

  “I just don’t get why you’re making such a big deal about her.” Brant glanced surreptitiously over his shoulder as he turned to leave. “Is there a reason?”

  “I could ask you the same question,” Mac answered.

  Brant flashed that crocodile smile then disappeared so fast I gasped.

  Mac turned around, his eyes widening as he realized I was still there. “Rubi?”

  I was stuck to the wall, trembling like an animal stuck in a frozen pond.

  He gingerly approached me, the silver dissipating from his eyes and his fangs retracting. “Rubi, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Hot, salty tears were flowing down my cheeks again.

  “Rubi, we need to get out of here before someone sees. And I need to get you cleaned up.” His voice was gentle and melodic, but not in that hypnotizing way. It was soothing like a cold rag on a burn.

  He reached for me and I let him. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I nodded and buried my face in his chest as he led us down the hall.

  I shivered on my bed, staring at the opposite wall until Mac kneeled on the floor in front of me. He settled a wool blanket around my shoulders and began gently wiping the blood off my neck.