Get up, Selena.
I reach for the handrail and drag myself to my feet, instantly crying out in pain. My ankle is sprained, or worse, broken.
The driver is now standing at the top of the steps looking down at me. There’s an expression of bemusement on his vapid face, as if he can’t believe my naiveté in thinking I could escape him.
I slam my shoulder against the bus door several times but it doesn’t open.
He steps down to approach me but instantly loses his footing, crashing directly into me, the weight of us both pushing the door wide open.
I land outside, my back on the ground, him on top of me, his teeth two inches from my neck. I’m enraged at the absurdity of my situation. There is no way I survived only to end up as a meal for this disgusting, vile thing.
I do what my impulse tells me. And I do it without question or hesitation. It’s either listen to my instincts…or die.
I push the driver up, holding his body off me with one hand, grateful for the man’s slight build. But I won’t be able to keep him off me for long. Without thinking further, I push the man’s head slightly to the side and bring my mouth to the middle of his neck. I bite him, hard, a wide, primal bite that grips and ruptures the skin and cartilage.
The taste of his blood turns my stomach but I stay focused on surviving. I sink my teeth deeper into his neck like an animal that hasn’t eaten in days. Somewhere in the back of my mind, the irony of the situation—me feeding on him—appears and then drifts away.
The driver snarls and throws his head back, freeing himself from my snare. Blood spews out from his neck. I don’t waste any time, and with all my force, I push him off me. He’s wounded but he’s relentless. He won’t stay down for long.
I stand, putting pressure only on my right foot, my left ankle already swelling underneath my cotton sock.
As quickly as I can, I limp to the street, stopping in the middle to examine my surroundings. Littered with abandoned trucks and cars, broken glass, fallen trees and…bodies, the road resembles a scene out of a post-apocalyptic horror movie.
“Hello! Can anyone hear me? I’m hurt! Please someone help me!”
I limp over to a nearby car and look inside the driver-side window. There is a child strapped in a car seat. He’s cradling a stuffed bear. He’s alone, a deep gash on his face. I don’t think he’s alive, but I need to be sure. I crack open the door. The noise startles the child, and he looks up at me with cherry red eyes, his tiny teeth bared. He extends his hands, grasping at the air. I know instantly he’s not seeking my help. His infant growl indicates he’s hungry. He wants to feed on me.
More than anything, I want to put this innocent child out of his misery. But I can’t do it. I don’t know how to extinguish whatever he’s now become.
I wipe away tears and continue my painful walk, looking behind me to make sure the thing I fought in the bus isn’t following me. He’s not. I sigh with relief. I don’t think I have any strength left in me to fight.
My mission now is to get home. Somehow. I’m only five miles away, maybe less. With my ankle, the trek will be arduous, but I’ll make it if I have to crawl on all fours. I spend a few seconds on regret at not having left for my apartment in the city yesterday. I stayed an extra day at my cottage in Southern Maryland so I could finish planting three stupid rose bushes. If I had left yesterday, I would never have been on that commuter bus, and wouldn’t be here right now, alone and hurt on a country road.
But I’m alive now. I have a chance. Who’s to say that would be the case in the city? Maybe, I consider, this was the angel that was sent. I spot a man sitting against a car, about twenty feet away. He’s staring at something, but from this distance, I can’t tell what it is.
I take a few steps toward him, careful not to get too close. “Are you okay?” I yell.
I’m not getting any closer until I know for sure he’s not like the creature in the bus.
He doesn’t reply or move.
“Hello! Are you hurt?”
His mouth moves as if he’s gnawing something.
I situate my hands on my knees and lean forward so I can get a closer look without taking a step. “Say something! Can you get up?”
Please don’t let him be a monster.
He raises his arm and points in front of him.
I move a little closer. “What do you see?”
He turns to face me. “Run! They’re coming! From the woods! Run!”
I fall back a few steps, staggering into a limping jog away from the nearby tree line. “Who’s coming?”
“You need to run. Go!”
And then I see. Oh, God, Oh, God! There are dozens of them, creatures like the toddler and the bus driver, pouring out of the trees. Some are missing arms, their socket bones exposed; some have only one eye or a half-eaten face; some are limping while others move with the confidence of a trained soldier.
A group of them descend upon the man. The rest lock their crimson gazes on me.
Their shrieks and roars momentarily paralyze me with fear. My heart feels like it’s going to burst through my lungs.
“Help! Someone help me!”
No one is coming to save me. I’m going to die. It took everything out of me to battle that one monster on the bus, and I very nearly lost that fight.
If only I had a weapon—not for defense, but to end my life more peacefully than what lies ahead. I feel a strange sense of pride at my fight to survive, but it’s over now. My suffering at the hands of these creatures seems imminent.
They thunder toward me. In a few seconds, I’ll be gone, with the monsters feeling no more remorse for me than a caterpillar feels for a leaf. And then it’s on to their next victim, without even a trace of humanity.
Despite my hurt ankle and the scene of approaching hopelessness, I get to my feet. I have to try. Even now. Every step I take is agony. I cry out but I keep going. It’s pointless, I realize, but I won’t surrender. When I take my last breath, I will know I had courage until the end.
I think of my parents and hope they are okay. I realize I will never see them again, and the tears begin in a fresh, steady flow down my face.
Goodbye, Mom and Dad.
My foot snags on a fallen branch littering the road and I fall to the pavement, the side of my head taking most of the impact.
I hear the grunting of my attackers. Then everything goes dark.
Chapter Two
Sunlight shimmers through the fractured glass of the small window in front of the tattered bed on which I’m lying. There are no other windows in this shadowy, mildewed, rustic room.
Intricate spider webs embellish cracked ceiling corners. Even in the afterlife, if that is where I am, spiders will forever torment me.
My eyes feel as if a heavy cloak is smothering them. I blink fast, in an effort to clear my vision. Shrouds of jagged aches encircle my head, making me want to scream.
Perhaps I’m dead…or worse, I’ve become one of those things.
Sitting up, I lean against the wooden slat headboard, the slight move sends darts of pain from the back of my head to my neck and shoulders. I hiss like a trapped, frightened animal.
I don’t know where I am or who brought me here. I should be dead, decaying on the road; crows scuffling with each other to get at what little remains the monsters left behind.
I run my fingers up and down my naked arms checking for bites. I lift my shirt and examine my breasts and stomach, then my legs and feet. Not a single bite, not even a scratch or bruise. My skin is soft and smooth, as if I had spent my whole life in some palace, being pampered by maidens with oils and lotions. Even the scab from my bike accident is gone.
I think of my ankle. I twirl it in long slow movements beneath the blanket with no pain. I bring my foot into view to inspect the injury, and immediately see the swell is gone. I move to the edge of the bed and place my bare feet on the dusty wood floor. My sneakers, stuffed with my socks, are against the floorboard next to a white distressed bed
side table. The clock on the table says its four thirty in the afternoon. I must have been out for hours.
I massage my face and run my fingers through my tangled locks. On the table, there is a glass of water and a plate with crackers on it. I hastily reach for the glass, spilling some of the liquid on my lap. I drink as if I have been lost in the desert for days. I wipe my mouth and set the glass back on the table, and then pick up one of the crackers. I nibble at it, trying to retain a sense of decorum, but my empty stomach insists I succumb to savagery. I stuff the cracker in my mouth, barely chewing before I swallow it. I haven’t eaten since last night—a small bowl of cereal before bed. I finish off all the crackers, leaving the plate with only a few crumbs, which I have to restrain myself from licking up like a dog.
Manners, be damned. I lift the plate to my tongue.
“There’s plenty more.”
The voice startles me. I drop the dish on the floor, breaking it in half.
I scurry from the bed and glare at the man standing at the door threshold. “Who are you?” I grab the lamp from the table and hold it high, ready to defend myself. The lamp is light and made of plastic, it won’t help me much but it’s all I have.
“Calm down.” His voice is deep, yet it has a tender, soothing quality to it. “You’re safe here.”
He strides toward me, his hands in the air as if trying to quiet down a rambunctious filly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
If he tries anything, I’ll just scratch his blue eyes out. Then I’ll pull that dark wavy hair from his scalp, before setting his tanned face on fire with the bulb of the lamp. “Okay, you know how I can be sure you won’t hurt me? If you stop right there. Now tell me who you are.”
“My name is Daniel.”
“Okay Daniel. How did I get here? Where are we? And what’s happening?” I’m frantic, desperate for answers and wondering how it is that I’m still alive.
Cautiously, he takes another step forward. “Put the lamp down and I’ll tell you what I know, okay?”
I don’t trust him, but I have few choices at this point. My fantasies of blinding and burning him aside, how much damage am I really going to do with a plastic lamp against this man? He’s tall, muscular, and apparently rescued me from a mob of ravenous beasts? If he wanted me hurt, I’d already be there.
I lower the lamp, but my muscles remain tense, prepared. The pain in my head is worse. I could still make a lunge for the door to get out of here. My mission hasn’t changed. I need to get to my house.
Daniel glances at the bed. “Maybe we should sit.”
I raise the lamp again. “Maybe you should tell me what you know.”
He grins.
“Is something funny?”
He scratches his sharp chin and jaw like he’s a professor at a lecture hall preparing to say something profound. “I bought that lamp at a Dollar store.”
I almost exhale a chuckle but I resist and retain my threatening stance. “And?”
“And…I don’t think a plastic ninety-nine-cents lamp from a cheap strip mall store makes a forceful weapon.”
I glare at the lamp, breaking a smile at the ridiculousness of my predicament. “I thought you said it cost a dollar?”
He smirks. “It was on sale.”
My smile turns into a snicker, momentarily easing the dark mass that’s circling my soul. I relent and put the stupid lamp back on the table. I sit on the bed and sigh. “What the hell is going on? Where am I?”
He joins me on the bed, his gaze straight ahead. “You’re in my home in the woods.” He faces me, his blue eyes hypnotic and piercing. “A new war has begun.”
I wait for him to say something else but he stays silent.
Instead, he places his hand on my forehead. “Does your head still hurt?”
His hand is warm and comforting. I close my eyes for a moment. “Yes.”
He presses the palm of his hand on my brow. “Don’t move.”
The pain worsens; my eyes water, my body is cold and starts to shake mildly. I grab at his hand in an attempt to get him to stop, but he keeps his palm pressed firmly.
“It will be over soon, I promise.”
His words are sterile and robotic and far from comforting. He’s speaking to me the way a scientist might speak to a rat before injecting it with poison. Maybe it was all a trick. Maybe my submission to him was the last poor decision of my life. Well, the list is long, so might as well go out with a bang.
His palm presses even flatter against me, and suddenly my whole body begins to shake violently. Foamed saliva bubbles from my mouth and runs down my chin in seizure-like fashion. My throat is now being devoured by my tongue and I can’t breathe.
Death seems certain this time.
Daniel slowly removes his hand from my brow and stares at me coldly as I flounder uncontrollably. Will he watch me take my last breath? Is he getting pleasure from my suffering? Or perhaps he’s just ensuring the magic of his touch worked before departing, leaving me here to die alone?
I fall back into the bed as if shoved in my chest. The seizures continue in full, but suddenly I can breathe as I retain control of my tongue. I inhale a deep breath, sucking the oxygen down to my lungs. My vision clears, and then the vibratory jerks of my body slow into erratic twitches before ceasing altogether.
The pain is gone.
“How do you feel?”
The words sound like they’ve come in a dream, but my instincts take over quickly. I raise myself to a sitting position and see Daniel still sitting next to me. I slap him across the face. It’s a full-torque slap, one you’d give to a would-be attacker on the street. He doesn’t flinch. I lift my hand again for strike two, but this time he grabs my arm at the wrist before I can cock it.
“You were thrashing your head in your sleep earlier. Otherwise, I would have made the pain go away hours ago.”
I pull my arm free. “You almost killed me. I couldn’t breathe.”
He paces to the window and closes the dense curtains. “I didn’t want you to be in pain.”
I clear my throat. “Next time just give me a couple of Tylenol, okay?”
He looks at me and smiles. “Sure.”
I swing my feet to the floor and stand. I feel light and strong, energized. My head is not only pain-free now, but my mind, panicked and debilitated only moments before, is now clear and eager. I want to learn. I want to be effective. “So tell me about this war.”
“A new order between vampires and witches has risen.”
I cough, laughing. “Well that’s a pretty straightforward explanation. Vampires and witches, you say? And they’ve risen?”
“Yes.”
I give him a moment to elaborate, but he offers nothing else. “Okay, I’ll play along. Risen to do what?
“The New Order wants to destroy and enslave all humans.”
In the movies, when someone doesn’t want to believe what is happening, she resorts to thinking one of two things: either someone is playing a practical joke or she’s in the midst of a dream.
My new clarity quickly filters through both of these possibilities, weighing the nightmare on the bus and the monstrosities that tried to murder me. And this new mysterious stranger, who appeared from nowhere and has somehow healed me to near perfection. This is certainly no joke, and if it’s a dream, I’m never sleeping again.
I bite my lip. “Tell me everything.”
He puts his hand in mine and guides me to the bench at the foot of the bed. “Everything I tell you is going to sound crazy, but it will be the truth. At least as I know it.”
I try to speak but I’m fixated on his stare, spellbound by the seriousness of his words. I nod for him to proceed. He squeezes my hand as if he’s afraid I’m going to make a dash for the door, but I’ve no intention to run “You may have guessed this by now but I’m not human like you. I’m half vampire, half fallen angel.”
Again I try to speak, but feel paralyzed. My mind won’t allow the typical habits of sarcasm and skeptici
sm to take over the way they would have only yesterday. Yesterday’s Selena would have nodded politely and backed out the door, telling this man he’d be okay once the men from the hospital came and picked him up. But, I don’t say anything. I listen.
“Almost ten thousand years ago, the angels that were banished from Heaven and fell to earth united with vampires against mankind. Against humans. The humans were hunted down and slaughtered by these duel forces. And the ones that weren’t killed were enslaved. Humanity was nearly wiped from the face of the earth. But the humans had a secret weapon.”
I exhale slowly and nod to Daniel, trying—despite the impossibility of the words I’m hearing—to give him the benefit of the doubt. He searches my face for a sign of disbelief from me, but I only smile and shrug. I’m committed to hearing it, Daniel, the motion says, so let’s have it all. “Powerful ancient witches sided with humans and helped them destroy the vampires and angels who started the war. Thousands of vampires and angels died. But they left a legacy behind: their hybrid children. These hybrid children were half-angel, half-vampire, and they possessed unique powers. Unlike vampires, most hybrids could walk in the sun. And they had healing powers, and the ability to fly. But like vampires, they…we…feed on blood.”
I go to the window and pull back the curtains. I need air. I unlock the window. He touches my shoulder and gently pushes me aside.
He shuts the curtains. “It’s almost sundown and they will be roaming, looking for humans.”
I drop down into a chair in a corner of the room and sigh. The reality that this is all happening hasn’t quite burrowed into my brain. I feel like a sleepwalker, trudging through a hell bent on terrorizing me, with corpses and monsters laughing at me.
Maybe I never made it out of the bus after all. Maybe I’m stuck in some kind of demented alternate existence.
He sits on the bedside table and goes on telling his dark tale. “After the war, hybrids swore they would never engage in a war against humans.” He looks away for a moment. “We swore an oath that we would always protect humans and only feed from those who are willing to share their blood with us. Peace was restored and most vampires gave up their cause to destroy and enslave humans.” He frowns. “A small uprising remained, but they were easily controlled and outnumbered. Until now.” He pulls back the curtains an inch. “The sun is setting. Soon, we’ll need to remain quiet and only move if absolutely necessary.”
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