Perpetual Creatures, Volumes 1-3: A Vampire and Ghost Thriller Series

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Perpetual Creatures, Volumes 1-3: A Vampire and Ghost Thriller Series Page 9

by Gabriel Beyers


  Jerusa’s breath came out in great, choked screams. She beat against her captor with her fist. His flesh burned beneath his clothes as though he were overcome with a great fever.

  Foster was up, rushing forward on wobbling legs, calling Jerusa’s name, but the dark-skinned woman took him by the arm, pulling him back. Thad, awakened by the calamity, pressed himself into a corner and frantically looked about at the shadows surrounding him.

  The creature, Kole, heaved back and forth, leaping here and there and at one point, even scurried up the wall like an insect. The erratic motion jarred Jerusa into silence, bringing her near to blacking out. She lifted her head with great effort and saw Silvanus disappearing and reappearing around the room, each time cutting off Kole’s escape. Kole hissed in anger, made a barreling rush for the window, but Silvanus reached out and caught him by the back of the neck.

  Kole thrashed in Silvanus’s grip, throttling Jerusa about, smashing her against the floor and walls. Her arms and legs were broken, that much she was sure of, most of her ribs, too. A loud crunch sounded in her ears and then she could feel nothing.

  Silvanus released Kole, who then scurried to the center of the room. He let out another growling hiss, clutched Jerusa close as though she were a slab of meat, and drove his festering teeth into the flesh of her shoulder.

  The pain was immediate and fierce, no less unbearable than having molten lead pumped into her veins. Kole, no longer satisfied with just her blood, sawed his teeth back and forth, quickly pulling away with a chunk of skin and muscle. He swallowed his prize, started in for a second bite, but Silvanus caught him by the throat and lifted him from off of Jerusa. The beast screeched and sought out his feast with claw-like fingers, but Silvanus turned and tossed him out the window.

  The noise of the storm seemed deafening, now that the window was shattered. Jerusa wanted to crane her neck for a better look, to watch and see if the creature, Kole, would climb back inside and try to reclaim her, but she was unable to move. Her neck was broken. She wasn’t even sure if she was breathing.

  Alicia sat on the floor before her. She caressed Jerusa’s face, though Jerusa couldn’t feel it. The only thing she could feel was the raging fire from the bite wound in her shoulder as it pushed its way further into her body. If only she could scream, cry out in agony, perhaps it would bring a release.

  Silvanus sat on the floor, almost right next to Alicia, and pulled Jerusa into his lap. There was something in his right hand, an object glimmering with candlelight. It passed before her face and she saw that it was a dagger.

  Silvanus slid the sharp dagger across the side of Jerusa’s neck, cutting the skin. He’s killing me, she thought. Putting me out of my misery. She wanted to thank him, but she couldn’t speak. But then Silvanus pressed the dagger to his wrist and pulled the blade across his skin with a heavy yank.

  The volcanic heat issuing from the bite in her shoulder pressed even further into her system. She could feel it coursing through tiny capillaries, invading her muscle tissue, even breaking through bone walls to overtake her marrow.

  Silvanus sat Jerusa upright, pulled her close, and pressed his mouth to the dagger wound in her neck. He lacked the fangs that Kole had had, but his tongue caressed the flesh around the cut, coaxing the blood into his mouth.

  Jerusa shuddered, but quickly realized it wasn’t her body that was shaking. A tremor overtook Silvanus with every mouthful of blood that he swallowed. He raised his wrist to Jerusa’s face and she could see that the cut was somehow smaller than it had been. She thought for a moment that she could actually see the skin zippering closed, but before she could get a second glance, Silvanus forced his wrist into her mouth.

  Revulsion sprang up like a battle cry and Jerusa wished she could pull away. Silvanus’s blood fell in thick drops upon her tongue. In her mind, she knew she should be sick, should force herself to vomit, but her mouth seemed a desert and the blood the rarest of cool rains.

  The blood filled her mouth, and out of reflex, Jerusa swallowed. The terrible fire consuming her from within stopped its march forward. And then she felt it pull back, recede, retreat. She swallowed again, relishing the euphoric release of pain that came with it.

  Alicia fell onto her hands and knees, her back arched as though she were in pain. She clawed at her eternal prom dress, tore at her unendingly perfect hairdo. In all the time that Alicia had been with Jerusa, she had never once revealed her mortal wounds as the other ghosts so often did. But now and then, in flashes as quick as lightning, Jerusa thought she was the young girl twisted into a mangled knot, her head crushed and lopsided.

  The fire in her flesh fell away faster and faster, fleeing Jerusa’s body through the wound in her neck. Clarity came to her vision. Though the room was steeped in shadow, Jerusa could count the eyelashes surrounding Thad’s bewildered eyes. Or she could focus on the tiny candle flames, turning them into blazing infernos. She could hear the strange, slow breathing of the dark-skinned duo, of Foster and even the wicked Taos, and marked how different it was from Thad’s breathing.

  Alicia scratched at the floor as she shivered all over. She raised her face to the sky, her soft features twisted. Something shifted within Jerusa, as though thousands of tiny fingers were massaging her from the inside out. Her broken bones were moving, setting themselves, the fractured ends sealing together once more. The flesh of her shoulder tingled as the skin and muscle regenerated. At the end, the bite wound stitched itself shut, leaving not even the whisper of a scar.

  Alicia clasped her chest and let out a scream that Jerusa couldn’t hear, but felt all the same.

  Jerusa sat up and clasped Silvanus’s wrist in both of her hands, pressing it tighter to her mouth. She rolled her tongue over the cut in his wrist, mimicking his movements on her neck, and the blood seemed to heed her call. She drank in deep draughts, lost in rapture, unwilling and unable to break free. The blood sang to her, enveloped her, blotted out all pain and strife. In the blood stood every answer. The blood was the light of all creation.

  When the last of the devouring fire fell from Jerusa’s neck, Silvanus yanked his wrist out of her mouth hard enough to spin her around. Jerusa lay on her stomach, panting as the blood-rapture washed away in a moment of agony. The enlightenment, the fulfillment, the peace, all of it gone like the thunder rumbling across the night sky. She wanted to weep.

  Alicia sat nearby, looking at her hands, as if for the first time. A lively blush filled her cheeks and her hair was filled with luster. She looked almost alive.

  Silvanus clutched his stomach. His skin had turned the color of murky waters, his once brilliant eyes seemed diminished somehow. His chest pulsated as ragged and uneven breaths fled his lungs. He clawed his way backward, as though he could escape the fire now infiltrating his blood and pulled himself into a sitting position against the wall. Black veins slithered beneath the surface of his skin like night-crawlers surfacing after the rain. He clenched his eyes shut as though willing the black veins to recede, and they actually obeyed, though not too far.

  “What did you do?” Jerusa whispered, though she knew perfectly well what he had done. The answer she sought was why he had done it.

  Silvanus started to speak, but doubled over in a spasm of pain. “You were kind to me,” he said, forcing out each word. With much effort, he pushed a smile onto his face. And then, without another word, he vanished.

  Jerusa tried to stand, but a terrible cramp overtook her, dropping her back to the floor. A tidal wave of nausea hit her and in horror, she felt her bowels release. They were all watching her. The dark-skinned twins (she was sure now that they were twins), Foster, even Thad, who seemed on the verge of fainting.

  “What’s happening to me?” she asked them. But it was Taos that answered.

  “You’re dying,” he said, hatred seeping into every syllable.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Dying?” Jerusa asked.

  She did not believe it, could not believe it. Her body was wracked with pain, true
enough, but nothing compared to the fire that had raged within her moments ago. She was very aware of the scent of her own evacuation and she had never felt more physically dirty in all her life. But dying? No. Impossible. She was supercharged. Quickened. Alive as no person had ever been before. She could count the dust motes dancing through the candlelight, could hear the raindrops smacking the asphalt of the road at the end of the driveway.

  “It is just the mortal death,” the dark-skinned woman said. Her voice was deep and seductive, like the purring of a great jungle cat.

  “Pay it no mind,” Taos said, leaping to his feet. “True death will come to you soon enough.” Taos came at Jerusa, his hands twisted into claws at his sides.

  “No,” Foster screamed. He leapt through the air, covering the length of the room in a single bound and landed between Taos and Jerusa. Foster swayed on his feet for a moment, shocked by the strength in his own limbs.

  “Out of my way, fledgling,” Taos snarled. “She is a heresy. She and the boy must die.”

  Thad’s eyes bulged and had he been able to, he would have backed straight through the wall.

  The dark-skinned woman joined Foster. Jerusa felt a sudden pang of love for the woman, followed by a humbling shame that the woman would risk Taos’s wrath to protect her.

  “Suhail,” Taos said, looking to the dark-skinned man. “Your sister is brave but foolish.”

  “Shufah,” Suhail said, pleading with her.

  “You overstep your authority,” Shufah said to Taos.

  Shufah was small, petite, a seemingly delicate woman, though Jerusa sensed in her a great power. She looked no more than a teenage girl, except for the wisdom abiding in her eyes.

  “We must kill them,” Taos demanded. “The Stewards will command it so.”

  “Are you the counsel of the Stewards?” Shufah asked. “Do you have access to their mind? Do you speak with their tongue? No, you do not, so do not presume to wield their sword. You are not a Hunter, even if you wish to be.”

  Taos’s bravado faltered, but his icy blue eyes retained their hatred. “But the boy bears my bite. I cannot allow him to live. The law forbids it.”

  “The law is not set,” Shufah countered. “Foster is proof of that. Look at the boy and tell me he wouldn’t be welcomed.”

  Taos cast his gaze upon Thad. The boy, who just minutes ago had seemed so large and strong to Jerusa, now squirmed like a mewling in the talons of a hawk.

  “Perhaps,” Taos said. He turned and pointed as Jerusa. “But she is an abomination.”

  Shufah glanced over her shoulder at Jerusa. Her eyes were cold and a little curious. “We don’t know what she is, but enough blood has been spilled tonight. She will live, at least until we have answers.”

  Suhail darted over to the broken window, scanning the rain-blotted landscape. “We must find shelter,” he said. “Kole may return.”

  “The basement,” Foster suggested.

  Taos gave a derisive laugh. “And what would keep Kole from burrowing through the floor to find and feast upon us?”

  “Come and see,” Shufah said.

  Suhail stepped up next to Taos. “No, we must flee. Even if Kole does not linger, we still have to worry about humans showing up in search of these two.” He indicated Jerusa and Thad with a nod of his head.

  “And where would we go, dear brother? The sun shall rise soon. And what if we should stumble across Kole during our search? Or what if we find a lair to ride out the day and find Kole has already occupied it? We have no choice but to take refuge here until tomorrow’s nightfall. And we must go now.”

  Jerusa glanced over at Alicia, but the ghost was squatted down with her back to the group, touching her face with her hands.

  “You know the Stewards will kill us all for this,” Taos said.

  “Perhaps,” Shufah replied. “They have always done what pleases them.” There was an air of spite in her voice and the words seemed bitter in her mouth.

  “So be it,” Taos said. “Let us hide in the basement like rats.”

  Shufah began to usher the group toward the basement door.

  “Wait,” Jerusa said. “I’m not … I’m not clean.” The stench of her own bodily functions sickened her. She knew that they could all smell her too, and she felt wretched and shamed. “Can I take a shower? I need to change my clothes.”

  Foster looked down at himself as though only now was he aware of his own filth. He swallowed hard and seemed on the verge of vomiting. “I would like to shower, as well.”

  Shufah regarded Jerusa coldly, but her eyes softened when they fell upon Foster. “We must seal ourselves in. If Kole should return — ”

  “I know,” Foster said. “But I don’t think I can stay like this. It’s maddening.”

  Jerusa thought it an apt description. It was so much worse than the smell or even the dirtiness of the act. There was an unnatural sensation to it, as though something alien was pressed against her and all of her being rebelled against its touch.

  Shufah seemed to understand as well. “You two must hurry. Kole has gone savage. There is no telling what he might do. But one thing is certain: If we stay in the open, he will hunt us.”

  Foster touched Jerusa’s shoulder and pointed to her bag of clothes still sitting beside the front door. She hurried over, giving Taos a wide berth, and snatched it up. Taos and Suhail both seemed irritated by Jerusa’s and Foster’s need to shower, but they said nothing against it. Perhaps the thought of being confined to the basement with that foul stench was more than they cared to endure.

  Jerusa started to follow Foster into the bathroom, but Thad grabbed her by the wrist as she passed. When she looked down on him, he snatched his hand back as though he was afraid she was going to bite it. He seemed genuinely afraid of her, which confused Jerusa. She had never frightened anyone before, let alone Thad. Perhaps it was just the shock of the situation.

  Thad stood to his feet.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Taos asked.

  “I’m going home. If my parents wake up and realize I’m gone, they’ll freak.”

  Taos laughed. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “I want to go home,” Thad insisted. “Just let me go home.” Jerusa could hear his heart thundering within his chest. She could smell the panic building within him.

  Jerusa reached out and touched Thad’s shoulder, but he jerked away. He regarded her with cold eyes full of hate, but his face quickly changed to regret.

  “You cannot go home, young one,” Shufah said in a soothing voice. “Not tonight. Perhaps in the morning.”

  Suhail started to interrupt, but she held up her hand to silence him.

  “The situation is dire,” Shufah continued. “Decisions must be made. Questions need answering. But first, we must hide. Kole is not our only enemy.” Thad’s eyes were distant and he nodded as though he understood what she was talking about. She looked at Jerusa and Foster. “Clean yourselves, and do hurry.”

  Foster ran into his bedroom for a fresh change of clothes, stopped at the linen closet for some towels, then took Jerusa by the arm, and pulled her into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them.

  Jerusa stood with her hands on the sink, staring in awe at her reflection in the mirror. Her auburn hair fell about her shoulders in a tousled mess, but it had never before been so full and lustrous. Each thread of hair seemed to not only reflect the light, but amplify it. Her skin was pale with a healthy glow, smooth and flawless as porcelain. Her green eyes burned like two glowing emeralds, fierce and frightening. It could not be her face. It seemed a mask of her face, or a painting of her face. Jerusa reached up and touched her cheek. Her full lips parted in a smile, and that was when she noticed the small, sharp fangs, one on either side of her incisors.

  No wonder Thad had recoiled from her. The being in the mirror was a beautiful yet fearsome creature.

  “What’s happened to me?”

  “You’ve seen the movies,” Foster said as he placed the t
owels on the toilet. “You’ve read the books. You know the answer. You just won’t accept that it is the truth.”

  She turned to him, beholding, for the first time in the light, the change that had taken place in his own body. Always before, Jerusa had felt the differences between her and Foster. He was a man and she was a girl. She was young, he was older. But those notions seemed simplistic, if not downright foolish, in light of what had just happened to her. There was no age difference between them now. They were both newborns in the world. The divide of gender bowed to the union they shared in blood. Jerusa felt these things as deeply as she had ever felt anything. She knew what she had become, but she still couldn’t say it.

  Foster smiled, but Jerusa sensed a sadness hidden within. He turned away before she read him further and pulled back the shower curtain. “You go first.”

  Foster turned his face to the wall so that Jerusa could undress in private. She tossed her bloodstained and soiled clothes into the trashcan near the sink and stepped into the shower.

  Jerusa gasped as the water hit her body, not because the temperature was too hot or too cold, but because her sense of touch seemed amplified beyond measure. The water massaged her strengthened skin, sending a shudder up her spine. She turned the water as hot as it would go and her flesh called for it to be hotter still. The pores on her skin were almost nonexistent and the filth melted away from her without the aid of soap. She turned her face up into the stream, letting the scalding water soak through her hair down to her scalp. Though she didn’t need soap, she washed anyway, relishing the pleasant scents that her heightened nose now detected.

  Jerusa rinsed and turned off the shower. She stood for a moment as the water dripped from her, evaluating the wounds of her body. The bite on her shoulder from Kole was completely healed without even a dimple of a scar. So too was Kole’s original bite mark on her neck, and the dagger cut from Silvanus. She ran her fingers across her neck and down her chest. The scar she had received from her heart surgery, however, was still there. The bubbled line, running from the top of her breastplate downward, stood out, bright and pink, more noticeable now than ever against her flawless vampire skin.

 

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