His skin was warm, damp from sweat, and full of life. His shoulder jerked as I held his arm in place. He twisted his body around to face me, a quick recovery for the jolt of a stop. I watched the gears turn in his head as surprise transformed into rightful terror. His brown eyes went wide, as his heartbeat quickened. His mouth opened, and I knew a yell was meant to follow.
“You will not scream,” I commanded. “You will not speak.”
His mouth closed. I could have told him not to fight. I could have forced him to obey. But what fun would there be in that?
His fist balled, and he pulled back to strike. I let the punch land, his knuckles against my jaw. The impact stung, an aching contusion that made me feel. I reveled in the sensation, and yanked the wrist I still held. He slammed into me. I could taste his fear, and it was divine.
He threw another punch—this one landed on my shoulder. Again, I felt pain. His fighting spirit was exactly what I’d needed.
I ripped his head down and to the side, exposing his throbbing carotid. It pulsed, calling to me. My fangs descended. It was everything I’d hoped for. All that I’d imagined. I held him still in my arms, scraped razor-like teeth over tender flesh. He fought, and writhed. Blood beaded to the surface, sweet and tempting. I opened my mouth, ready to take what I’d earned, ready to renew my life with his.
Hey, girlfriend. Come on over. Hey, girlfriend. It’s me.
And just like that, it was over.
The high-pitched voice and upbeat melody that played from my pocket sickened me. She had put it in there, Ashley King, the source of my agony. And as she’d put that horrid song in as my ringtone, she’d laughed.
I pushed back my meal, and forced his eyes to meet mine. They were filled with hate, just as they were meant to.
“Stay,” I commanded.
He did.
I pulled my phone from my pocket. It was the small, glass rectangle that had become my ball and chain. And it was the devil herself who held the key. I didn’t have to look down to know that it was she who called.
Ashley King, Queen of the Chesapeake Region. I answered her summons as I was required to, though my eyes remained on the officer.
“What?” I asked, holding the phone to my ear.
“Wallllter,” she sang, in that high-pitched voice that grated my nerves. “As your queen, I command you come home.”
“Can it not wait?” I asked, as kindly as I could manage. “I’m in the middle—”
“I need you here,” she said. “Now.”
“As you wish.” The words were acid on my tongue. After dealing with her every night, I’d looked forward to a meaningful hunt. My victory had been tarnished. My moment ruined. There was no taking it back, no thrill in picking up where I had left off, no recapturing the perfection I had nearly accomplished. And it was all because of Ashley. That witch was worse than Yeke. The last king had been ruthless, sure, but he didn’t fuck with my life the way she did. I had done my part in taking down Yeke, for my sire who he’d left at the bottom of the sea. At the time, the prospect of taking out the Mongol king seemed both just and right. That was before his newly-turned pet, Ashely, stole his power and his throne. Who’d have thought revenge would have turned out so sour? Sure as hell not me.
I slid my phone back into my pocket and looked to the man before me. He just stood there, waiting for my command. And I felt nothing.
“Continue your run and forget me.”
He did as he was told.
Hunted: Chapter Two
Violet
The cooler hummed, the freezer dripped, and hotdogs sizzled as they spun. It was an electric, white noise melody. So different from the desolate, cricket-filled night just outside the sliding glass doors. I kept my footsteps quieter than my surroundings, and my hand just over a set of my favorite throwing knives.
Everything looked worn and dated, just as it did most places out here. Browned, chipped tiles lined the floor. The cash register had metal buttons instead of an electronic display. There was even a rotary phone on the wall. Maybe time had stopped in Chesterdale, trapping the small town in the early nineties.
With his fingers clasped over his suspenders, the clerk, an off-duty Santa Claus type behind the counter, kept his sights on the same man I did—a vampire. I’d been told his name was Adrien, an import to New York from France. His sunken brown eyes and ghost-white skin did nothing to hide his nature. He stood by the magazine rack, with his hands in the pockets of his floor-length duster, and kept his head tilted down as if he were examining the covers. I was unconvinced. This guy killed. A lot. He was there looking for his next victim. I’d have bet on it.
I hung back at the far end of the convenience store, hidden behind a wide display of chips. Tall, grumpy, and thirsting for blood, Adrien, or Bitey as I preferred to call him, probably knew I was there. Avid predators, they always seemed to know exactly where we humans were if we got too close. It was a risk I had to take, even if waiting so near made my skin crawl.
The bell over the heavy glass door dinged as someone entered the store. I didn’t dare shift my attention. Let my guard down, even for a second, and I could become a late-night snack. Still, I caught a glimpse of them in my periphery.
“Original Cheddar Snoodles or Cheddar Snoodles Xtreme?” The first voice was male. A boy, stringy, tall, with stupid hair.
“Whatever,” giggled the girl. “I’m not even hungry.”
“This is a serious question,” he said. “Totally different products. And I’m sure after I’m through with you, you’ll have a huge appetite.” I could just imagine the lowered brows, the cheesy innuendo all over his hornball face. Pun absolutely intended.
“You think so?” she quipped. And again the girl giggled as the two crashed into a postcard stand, causing it to wobble on unsteady legs.
The teenagers stomped like elephants, completely unaware of the danger they were in.
I peeked over the top of the metal shelves. Bitey was watching them, not me. Good. Well, good for me. Not so much for them.
If this had been a horror movie, she’d be sure to be slashed first. Blond teenagers in short skirts were always the first to go. Since vampires were horror movie monsters, I figured chances were good that the vampire had his sights on her.
Just ten feet away, this was the closest I’d allowed myself to get to Bitey McAngryFace in the two weeks that I’d followed him. Anticipation gave me the jitters, a feeling I loved to chase. After he had stopped migrating, lingering just outside of Amish country, I’d grown bored with waiting. It was time to pounce.
It had started about a month ago, back in New York. Instead of hanging around, treating people like TV dinners—devour and toss—the vampires had dropped everything and flocked south. Maybe it meant something big was coming, like the way rats fled before a flood. Maybe it meant never-ending sunlight was upon us, and the vampires felt its approach instinctually. Or maybe they were running to something instead of away—like Vamp-con or Blood-stock or something. Whatever was going on, I was going to find out. My answer was here, trapped in the brain of this vamp.
“Come on, Jayzen,” Slasher Bait whined, “I want to goooo.”
“You mean come,” he replied.
Uh… too much info, seriously.
Bitey watched the exchange with hungry eyes. Brown irises flamed with excitement, the only sign of life on the walking corpse.
The teenagers dumped armfuls of junk food by the register. Then the boy pulled the blonde close, before letting her pay.
The bearded man behind the counter bagged their energy drinks and cheese puffs, but kept his gaze on the same man I did—Bitey, who was no longer a man at all.
The little bell above the door rang as the couple left. I held my breath and forced myself not to blink. This could be it. And without taking a visible step, the vampire disappeared. It wasn’t a surprise. Better if he left the store first anyway.
“Where’d he go?” the clerk asked. His brow furrowed as he scanned the room f
rom his place behind the glass counter.
I smiled at the round man with the thick white beard. “He’s gone,” I said. “And he won’t come back.” It was a promise.
“What?” Santa asked. But I was already half out the door.
The night was cold and dark. The only light to be seen in any direction came from the Food & Fuel. Large windows beamed fluorescent light through thick panes, the buzzing sign marked ‘FF’ glowed orange, and flickering spotlights shone down from atop gas pumps.
It was adrenaline that fueled me as I watched the teenagers cross the small lot, away from the building, and out of the light.
He was watching, too. I didn’t know from where, but I could feel it. It was that nagging urge to check over my shoulder, the one that said the boogeyman was under my bed. I watched. I waited.
And then I saw him. A streak of black flashed before my eyes, and slasher bait was on the ground, unmoving, thirty feet from where she had just stood.
On instinct, I fisted my throwing knives, grasping each small grip between my fingers, and ran. Black surrounded her, perfect cover for a creature of shadow to make his move. But he didn’t sink his teeth into her neck. He didn’t seem to be anywhere at all.
That’s when I heard the screams.
It didn’t last long, the sound of terror, or agony. Then there was only the chirp of crickets and the electric hum of the orange sign. As it turned out, Bitey McAngryFace wasn’t into the blonde, but her boyfriend instead.
Beside the truck, I saw the whites of his eyes, Bitey’s victim pinned to black fiberglass by the man-shaped monster that was a foot shorter than him. I watched that greasy head of black hair bob up and down slowly over the boy’s shoulder. Silent embodiment of death itself.
Their lives were in my hands. Not just the vampire and the skinny teen, but the girl, and the clerk too. It was up to me what happened next, and I followed through without hesitation. With the flick of my wrist, four blades soared through the cold, night air. Every one hit its mark, landing in a straight line across the vampire’s back, and puncturing both his skin, and his black t-shirt. It was like Connect Four. And I won.
The creature hissed as its head whipped in my direction. Fangs dripping, red eyes on fire, Bitey McAngryFace released his victim, leaving the boy to sink down to the blacktop below.
I grabbed hold of the long dagger belted to my thigh, and tried my damnedest not to blink.
As soon as his foot turned, I put the pointy end out. I took two steps forward, before I lost sight of Bitey. He was too quick to follow, but I knew exactly where he was headed.
A dark figure appeared from nowhere. His body pushed back as the blade went in. It wasn’t the heart. I couldn’t kill him yet. There was nothing to learn when the creature stopped moving.
Long, cold fingers wrapped around my throat, squeezing the breath out of me. Stars sparkled at the edge of my vision, as darkness faded toward black.
“Who are you?” His voice was distant, and carried a heavy French accent.
I wasn’t afraid, though I knew this was the part where I was supposed to be. Instead, I was energized, excited. I was so close to my goal.
I pulled my blade through the flesh of his arm. And he released. I fell back, on unsteady feet, sucking in all the oxygen I’d been deprived.
“Forget it,” he said. “You’re dead.”
I smiled at the monster that held his damaged arm in close to his body, like a clipped wing on a baby bird. There was fury on his never-smiling face, hatred even. It was satisfying.
He’d killed in every city he stopped, every night he existed. He didn’t need so much to survive—they never did. Survival, I understood; slaughter, I refused to condone.
This time it was me who attacked first, diving forward at the vampire. Before I could reach him, he had disappeared. I twisted, blade first, on my heel. That’s when I saw him.
From my side, Adrien struck. Fangs first, the vampire tried to take a bite out of the side of my face. I recoiled, and lodged my dagger deep within his chest. It wasn’t to the hilt, rather two inches shy, upward at an angel that promised direct damage to his aorta. The vamp froze.
“That’s right,” I said. “Now you get it.”
“Who are you?” he asked once again.
“That’s not why we’re here,” I said, watching the red in his eyes fade as fear overtook aggression. “You feel that, right? The tip of the blade tickling just at the edge of your heart?”
He said nothing.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said. “Now I’m going to ask you some questions. You’re going to be a good boy and give me some answers.
His brown eyes glazed, and he tilted his head forward. I’d seen this before too.
“Little girl, you’re going to release that knife. You’re going to take the other, and cut right through the center of your stomach. You’re going to smile as you watch your—”
“I don’t think so,” I said.
“How?”
“Glamour-proof contacts,” I said. “Doesn’t everyone sport a pair?” Popping those babies in was the first thing I did every morning when I woke.
His jaw dropped. I dug the blade a quarter inch deeper for his arrogance. And he winced.
“Where are you headed?” I asked.
He just looked at me, with hate, and with fear. Another quarter inch.
“Fine,” he growled. Then he lifted his hands above his head. “Just stop. I’ll tell you anything.”
I nodded. “Why are all the vampires going south?” I asked. “Where are you going?”
“Scarlet Harbor,” he said. “That’s all I know. There’s nothing else, really. It’s all—”
And I believed him. Flashes of his victims passed through my head, memories of bloodied bodies left in his wake. So with that, I finished the job, putting the pointy end to good use and finishing our conversation.
When the vamp fell, I looked to the boy. He sat mumbling to himself with his hands over his face. I checked the girl, and found she had a pulse. Her eyes opened as I stood back up over her.
“What the…” The girl gasped as she looked at my blade. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”
I wiped my blade on the dead vamp’s shirt before looking one last time at slasher bait. She looked horrified, and disgusted. It was a common reaction. I smiled, considered what she’d just been through, and settled on my response.
“You’re welcome.”
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Running to the Pack: Chapter One
Hailey
The phone book shook in my hands as I rifled through the pages. Though it had sat on the counter for years it still felt brand new. The stiff spine made it difficult to read the listings toward the center and my eye that was almost swollen shut made it hard to read at all. I picked a cab company at random and set the book down on the counter. I couldn't take comfort in anything familiar. He knew my habits, he knew too much of me. I struggled to focus on pressing the right numbers as my fingers trembled.
Two rings then a deep voice with a thick, Eastern European accent spoke, "City Cabs. How I can help you?"
"I need a cab as soon as you can. Four fifty-nine South Walnut Street," I said, appreciating his directness. I was in no condition for pleasantries, just barely holding it together.
"Five minutes is okay?"
"Perfect." I hung up the phone. Just five more minutes.
The knot in my middle twisted and squeezed. I rushed around my small apartment looking for what I needed. There was no time to worry about the rest. Ding. Another text. Inhale deeply, exhale slowly. Inhale deeply, exhale slowly. I emptied my drawers in huge armfuls, dumping them into the open suitcase on the bed. My racing heart threatened to pound its way out of my chest as I collected my belongings. Ding. I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to vomit. It would be over soon. I just needed to focus. I grabbed the framed pictures from the nightstand, the two pictures I could never replace, memories of the people that ma
ttered most to me. I rested them on top of my clothes, careful not to break the glass. I stuffed in the dangling legs of pants and sleeves of shirts and zipped my bag shut. I glanced at the phone sitting next to my packed bag on the bedspread. I wondered if I should take it. What would happen if he found me and I had no way to call for help? I was sure no one could help me in time anyway. He was too smart to get caught. The restraining order meant nothing to him. When he wanted to reach me he did. We'd been through this already. What if I brought the phone along and he had some way to track it? Knowing him, he probably did. Too risky.
I grabbed my suitcase and purse, and left the phone on the bed. Ding. I was surprised I could still hear anything over the thrum of blood pounding in my ears. Inhale deeply, exhale slowly. Yeah, I should leave it, I decided. I threw on my favorite grey hoodie, pulling the top over my head, and tucking my thick, brown curls in behind my shoulders. I checked my reflection in the mirror by the door and slid on my aviators. They almost hid the purple and blue marring my left eye. There was no covering the slice on my lip, so the glasses would have to do. I didn’t recognize the hollow shell of a woman that looked back at me. I always thought thinner would be more beautiful, but what I saw wasn't beauty. I hated what I saw—fear.
I was doing what I was best at: running away. I lifted my sunglasses and looked out the peep hole. He wouldn't just stand around in the hallway where I could see him, but I had to check. It looked clear. Inhale deeply, exhale slowly. I squeezed the handle of my rolling suitcase and closed my eyes. I can do this, I told myself. Everything would be better once I got out of this godforsaken city. It doesn't hurt to lie to yourself if it keeps you moving. I moved into the hall, looking both ways. Empty. Inhale deeply, exhale slowly. Ding. I slammed the door behind me, harder than I should, shielding me from the sound of him reaching for me. I rushed down the hall toward the closed elevator doors. The floor numbers were ticking up. Someone was coming.
Pierced: A Wolf Shifter & Vampire Paranormal Romance (Vampires of Scarlet Harbor Book 1) Page 13
