Built like a tank, my assailant is white and pale, a common trait for vampires due to their aversion to the sun. His face is, for lack of a better word, melted with keloided scars that make him look like a candle that has burned too long. His eyes are drooped; the skin has pulled down the outer corners. Deep within the folds, clear blue eyes rake over me and through me, like they're inspecting my soul.
He grins.
I shudder when his hot breath trickles over the skin of my neck, right where my jugular is. I've been bitten before without being glamoured, and it hurts like a son of a bitch. I try to prepare myself for it, yet I can't help but tremble in fear.
"Hey, Harker," Melted Vampire yells out to my sister, using her official title. "Drop your weapon, or I slit the little Harker's throat." I feel sharp nails on my throat, sharpened enough to draw blood.
The stake clatters on the ground and an eerie stillness follows his threat. I manage to crane my head to look at her. She’s being held by four vampires, who hold her hands at her side. Meaning that she can still…
My hopes fall when one of the vampires moves her left hand over her heart.
It’s the hand that can summon her magical sword Silver Bane from the palm of her hand.
Our ambushers know exactly who they’re dealing with.
"No," I gasp, "Meghan, don't—"
The melted face in my view gives an imperceptible nod, a signal. I hear their growl, knowing that they're about to descend upon her. All because I'm too weak to help her out. Every fiber of my body screams against Fate.
My sister is going to die because I am unable to help her.
I try averting my eyes. The hand against my throat tilts my head back into position, just in time to watch the vampires attack her. Her hazel eyes meet mine, pleading with me just before a female vampire slashes her claws against her throat.
I scream.
Blood spurts from Meghan's throat, now cut all the way to her spinal column. Meghan struggles for air and stumbles to her knees, then she collapses like a rag doll on her side.
I'm still screaming when the vampires lose themselves in the lust over her lifeblood. They bathe in it like a bunch of birds in a bird bath. Only, it's a shower in my sister's last moments of life.
My sister is gone.
My scream is cut short by the excruciating pain in my left wrist. There's a point with pain where you can no longer scream, only witness the agony. I was just flung over that point.
I turn to see Melted Vampire's face shredding the flesh of my left forearm. Then his lips fasten to the wound and I feel him drawing out the blood from my veins, intending to drain me dry.
My basest survival instinct kicks into gear, and I thrash wildly about. I want to break away from him. I want to kill him for what he did to Meghan.
Only, I'm too weak and helpless, and it’s getting worse by the second. He's unrelenting in his feeding of me.
Those blue eyes snap to mine, holding me in place. He doesn't glamor me, but he watches me as he sucks the blood from my veins.
Blackness swims into my vision, a darkness that threatens to overtake me. I can't lose consciousness. Not now. I won't ever wake up again if that happens.
Still, he keeps feeding when I start to gasp. Sounds fade, blackness tunnels everything in my view. I can no longer hear the vampires celebrating over Meghan's dead body. The pain dulls, signaling that I'm just on Death's doorstep.
Dimly, I feel the weight of another wrist, slick from blood, touch mine. Astonished, I look at Melted. He's grinning in satisfaction at my shocked bewilderment. Through the dark lens of near-unconsciousness, my eyes drift down to my forearm where his own open wrist is grasping mine, wound-to-wound.
No. My mouth moves as I try to speak. No! You can't do that.
This is how humans are turned into vampires. And I know that this is how I will die a slow, painful death, since vampire blood will not play nice with my not-quite-human blood.
Melted leans into me as I near ever so close to the precipice of darkness, his bloodied lips inches from my ear.
"Be seeing you real soon, little Harker," he croons.
"Anthony," a voice tells Melted, using what I think is his name. "Anthony, we have to go. Now."
I register the name Anthony. The vampire who killed my sister. The vampire who’s killing me.
Then I fall into oblivion.
If I do wake up from this, I’m going to find my world turned upside down.
1
Edie
Five months later
I don’t like walking down dark alleys, especially at two o'clock in the morning in a city as big as Houston. You either go down one because you're looking for trouble, or you're trouble yourself.
Tonight, I'm trouble.
I shove my gloved hands into the front pocket of my black AC/DC hoodie, idly gripping the classic wooden stakes that I keep in there. They’re there more to keep me company than anything else, to calm my frayed nerves, which I've needed ever since that horrible night my sister was taken from me.
My phone, protected by an Otterbox, is nestled in the back pocket of my shredded black jeans, playing the Ramones through a single earbud in my left ear. Though I know it's bad to hunt keeping only one ear alert, I get nervous when it’s just me and my thoughts.
My well-worn Dr. Martens don't make a sound as I power-walk up and down the alleys of Rice Village, a shopping district adjacent to Rice University and a stone's throw away from MD Anderson Cancer Center.
I know MD Anderson all too well. When my father was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer five years ago, Meghan and I used to make the drive with him from Austin to the Cancer Center to treat the tumor. The damn thing metastasized and he succumbed after an awful four months. Even now, I still get chills just being two miles from the hulking hospital.
Meanwhile, Rice Village has all the hallmarks of a college trap. Cheap pubs and international restaurants line the streets along with a hodgepodge of old and new shops. It looks like it would be a nice area in the daytime, somewhere where you can buy Jimmy Choos and a burrito in the same block.
At nighttime, however, the threat of danger is very real.
It is two a.m. and the bars are just now letting out, meaning that there are drunk college kids who are getting in way over their heads.
I keep my sixth sense active, feeling through the air for any vampires around. My vampy sense, as I call it, does let me down on occasion, so I pay attention to all of my senses. Just in case.
It doesn't fail me tonight.
There. Two of them, about forty yards from me.
I take off at jog, turning the corner around an Indian restaurant nestled between two bars. The narrow space between the buildings is crowded with dumpsters, initially hiding the vampires from sight.
Then I hear it, the mumbled protestations of a student too drunk on beer and glamour to fight back. There's a light sucking noise that makes me grind my teeth. I squeeze my left hand into a fist to the point where the tendons feel like they're about to snap.
I need to get my emotions under control.
I pull out both of my stakes and hold them in my right hand, take a deep breath, and step out to face them.
"You know, if you guys didn't get greedy, I wouldn't have to find you like this," I announce. Under ordinary circumstances, I would just come up and stake the bastards, but tonight, I want them to talk.
According to my informant, they have information that I desperately need about the vampire who killed my sister.
The man and the woman that I'm addressing snap their heads up at the sound of my voice in the otherwise quiet alley. The victim, a boy around my age, slumps between them, twin bite sized marks on either side of his neck. They were both feeding on him at the same time, like he was a family-style restaurant.
The rage swells within me, and I fight to hold it back.
The vampires appear to be in their late twenties. To common bystanders, they may look like swinging lovers who invited
a third wheel for a little fun in between the dumpsters. Until you notice that the whites of their eyes are red with bloodlust and crimson drips from their mouths. Then they bare their long fangs at you and you definitely no longer believe that they’re human.
With bravado, I take out my ear bud and tuck the wires into my back pocket. I shift the stakes between both of my hands, making sure that the vampires see the weapons.
Hopefully, I won’t have to summon my magic sword from the palm of my hand.
"You got greedy, didn't you? Lucky for you, you've got some information I need, so we can talk if you care to. The question is, what are you going to do next?"
The male vampire's eyes go wild and the female backs up like a cornered dog. The student collapses in a boneless heap. I now have his assailants' full attention.
I hope he's okay.
"You're…" the female vampire says, her eyes flitting across me. I know that she sees a young, pale, punk girl standing before her with black and red dyed hair and a grim expression. She recognizes me before she can finish her sentence.
"The Harker?" I supply, using the title that my sister once had that I now carry like a heavy burden. "Good guess. I'm the newly appointed one."
I raise up my stakes. "Now. What do you two know about Anthony?"
They know the name. I can see the fear in their eyes, fear that I've seen before whenever I track vampires that have heard of him. He's like a slippery eel, an underground crime lord of an already-underground sect of society. Most vampires have never heard of him. Those that have would rather die than talk.
Which means that I've yet to find a vampire who actually knows his current whereabouts.
I hope to change that tonight. I need to change that tonight.
I’m running out of time. I’m dying.
Unfortunately, instead of answering my simple question, the male vampire lunges at me, swinging his claws in a downward motion in an effort to tear off my face. I spin out of reach with ease, grab his arm, and swing him face-first into the brick wall on my left side. He hits it with a sickening crunch, his nose breaking from the impact.
"This would be so much easier if you would just answer my question."
At the sight of her comrade in a heap, the female vampire screeches, reminding me of a banshee. Lucky for us, it sounds similar to cars peeling out, so I'm not too worried about attracting unwanted attention.
She pulls up the unconscious college student and wraps her hands around his head and shoulders. "Stop, Harker," she hisses. "Stop, or I'll kill the bloodbag."
I sigh tiredly. "You're not going to tell me about Anthony?"
“No. Of course not,” she growls. “He’ll kill me if I say anything.”
“Are you sure?”
"Fuck off, Harker. Or I kill him."
I hate ultimatums. And I hate that she isn't going to tell me.
I choose a third option.
I heft a stake in my right hand, testing the weight. I don't even aim as I throw it towards her. As far as I know, I'm the best at this little technique, throwing with one full spin before it hits my target.
It catches her square in the chest and by surprise. Her eyes widen with the knowledge that her extended life is at an end. She hisses once at me, as if protesting her fate before she falls to the ground.
A quick death. More than she deserves.
Then I notice that the male vampire is gone. In panic, I throw out tendrils of my vampy sense, trying to find his whereabouts.
As if on cue, I get my answer.
Out of nowhere, I'm punched so hard in the face, I bounce off a brick wall. My right shoulder hits it with a loud pop, like a balloon exploding. I cry out at the impact, both in pain and anger that I was so stupid for losing track of one of the vampires. I dislocated my shoulder when I was fourteen, and since then, I know what one feels like. My fingers begin to tingle in an instant and I lose all mobility in the arm. That means that it’s either dislocated or broken.
My assailant doesn't give me time to evaluate my injury or fix my shoulder. His solid mass barrels me with the force of a freight train, toppling both of us to the concrete.
In the split second his weight hits me, I have to make a difficult decision. When I impacted with the wall, I also dropped my stake, meaning that I need to decide if I’m going to summon my sword or try to fight back, mano a mano.
I hold up my left hand to catch him as he throws himself at me, knocking me backwards. He lands on top, his teeth snapping inches from my nose a second before his entire body seizes up. From the palm of my hand, a wide, shiny, glittering broadsword blade has emerged, piercing him all the way through his torso. I affectionately call the blade Glimmer, although it’s the legendary sword that all Harkers carry within their bodies and pass on to their successors. It’s a part of me, an extension of myself that I inherited from my sister Meghan when I became the Harker in her place. Even though I don’t have an open wound from it, it hurts me every time I use it.
When he body slammed me, my blade plunged through his heart. Which is fine, because it takes him down for the count.
"You bitch," he wheezes. The light starts to leave his eyes. He snickers. "Anthony's coming for you."
"Tell me where he is!" I yell, pleading with all my soul for him to give me something, anything to get to the murderous vampire.
His body relaxes a bit more, becoming dead weight, which drives Glimmer even further into his chest.
"Coming…for you…" He stills, a long, low breath leaving his lips for the last time.
In disgust, I push him off me with my one good arm and retract my sword into my body, removing any trace that a magical blade had been here. No blood, no gore, only a magical disappearing and reappearing blade. Don’t ask; I don’t fully understand how it works myself.
"Goddammit!" I snarl. I really thought I would get more information this time. With two vampires, I thought I could use one as a lesson to scare the information out of the other.
Instead, I got this.
I don't enjoy killing vampires, despite everything that has happened, and I don't like losing chances at locating my sister's killer and the vampire who infected me with a deadly disease.
"RARGH!"
I want to punch walls and burn down buildings. At this rate, I'll never find anything out about Anthony, and time is ticking down so quickly for me.
Now I have two bodies and a barely-alive victim to take care of. Not exactly what I call a successful night.
Good job, Edie. Good job.
I may be the Harker, but I’m definitely not the best at it.
2
Edie
Before I do anything, I have to pop my shoulder back into place. I scramble to my feet and trudge over to the wall. It hurt like hell being dislocated, and I know it's going to hurt worse going back in.
I steel myself, and jam it back into the brick wall, hearing the answering pop when it snaps back into place. I cry out in pain, slumping against the wall while bile threatens to come up through my throat.
I wallow in agony for a few moments, drawing my knees up to my chest, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. This really isn’t anything pain-wise, but I want to allow myself this. It makes me feel human. It reminds me I’m still alive. For now.
Get up, Edie.
I clench and unclench my fingers, giving my arm a slight shake to make sure that everything is in working order. It feels like shit, but there's nothing I can do about it now. A bunch of Aleve, and I should feel better in the morning when my supernatural healing abilities kick in. One of the few perks of being the Harker.
I roll my shoulder and suck in deep breaths. At least it's somewhat working now, which is good, because I have to take care of business.
I kneel beside the college student and check his pulse. It’s there, but it’s faint. Although he’s probably going to need a blood transfusion and an extended stay at the hospital, he’ll live.
"Are you still alive in there?" I ask.
&n
bsp; He whimpers incoherently.
I sigh in relief. I guess this means that tonight isn't a total bust.
I dig in his pocket for his cell phone and pull it out. His lock screen shows a picture of him with a healthy glow, his arm draped around a beautiful girl on a boat. They look like they’re on vacation in Cancun for Spring Break. I’ve been to Cancun once before when I was twelve, only it was to tag along with my mother while she took care of an ancient Mayan vampire. We certainly weren’t on a cruise, and I certainly wasn’t with some hot dude.
I look at it before I thumb the screen off. We’ve led vastly different lives. I should be happy that he’ll still continue to live a happy, healthy life.
And me? Well, my love life is in shambles and I probably won’t go on a vacation for pleasure ever again.
“You’re a lucky fellow, aren’t you? Stay out of dark alleys next time.”
He won’t remember my advice, but I give it anyways.
I prop him up against the wall to help him breathe and to keep his wound above his heart. I already see that it’s healing nicely from the clotting agent in vampire saliva, it’s more or less the lack of blood that is keeping him knocked out. I set the phone in his lap. Once I’m done taking care of the bodies, I’ll call an ambulance for him.
As much as I want to help more, I can’t. Though some police departments know about the existence of vampires and vampire hunters, I don't want to press my luck. If it gets out that there are real bloodsuckers in the world, the media would go crazy with all the vampire-like killings.
“And now to take care of you two fuckers…” I say, turning to the vampire bodies.
Unlike what you see on TV, they don't disintegrate into ash when they're staked. That would make things way too damn easy.
Thankfully, in addition to possessing a magical sword within my body, my pyrokinetic powers have gotten stronger since I became the Harker. I can make a miniature funeral pyre for them and burn away their existence. I'm no Jedi Master or anything—my fights with vampires would be a whole lot easier if I could use the Force—but it helps to create a controlled blaze without any sign of arson.
Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels Page 23
