by Dima Zales
She swallows and scoots back from the table feeling sick.
How will she get the money? Should she borrow it from Beatrice? Is it too late to apply for financial aid?
She looks up and her gaze goes to the kitchen window. She's vaguely aware of Beatrice standing up and lowering the the watering can in her hands. Amy closes her eyes, remembering Loki's words, “I will pay you back with interest.” Maybe it's all been a mistake? He'll come back, it will all be okay … But it won't be, because she needs the money now.
Outside, Beatrice must see Amy, and her face must look stricken, because Beatrice comes running. And then Beatrice just sort of isn’t there.
Amy bolts from her seat, the sickening feeling in her stomach instantly getting worse. She runs through the door and finds Beatrice on the ground at the bottom of the stoop, her leg at an odd angle. Her head is tilted back and her eyes are closed. Blood is on the sidewalk.
“Grandma!” Amy screams. Sinking to her knees, she pulls out her phone, and dials 911. As the phone rings, she takes her grandmother’s hand in her own. She looks down at the delicate veins visible through her grandmother's aged skin. Beatrice does not stir. Amy swallows, her eyes hot. Now everything is gone.
A few hours later she is at the hospital, sitting in the waiting room in a daze. On the periphery of her vision she sees several men approaching.
“Miss Lewis?” Amy turns her head, and her brow furrows. There is the older man with the too-square jaw in the too conservative gray suit who she saw in her neighborhood eating ice cream. He’s still in a gray suit. Next to him are two other men. The first looks Mexican, and vaguely familiar. She blinks. It’s the ice cream vendor, but now he’s in a suit, too.
The last man is young. He’s wearing a suit too, but he looks a little more rumpled. Looking down at a little device of some kind, he says, “She’s clean.”
Holding up a badge, the older guy says, “Miss Lewis, I’m agent Merryl and these are agents Hernandez and Ericson. We’re from the FBI. We need to bring you in for questioning.”
“Am I in trouble?” Amy stammers.
The old guy just tilts his head.
The End
The series continues with Monsters.
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The Witch Hunter
The Witch Hunter: Book 1 - Nicole R. Taylor
1
Zac was twenty-three when he died.
He was a Captain in the Confederate army until he was shot by a Union soldier. Captain Zachary Degaud. That was one hundred and forty seven years ago, in 1865. It was cold comfort that the civil war had ended shortly thereafter. Actually, it was like a punch in the face.
Today was his one hundred and seventieth birthday and he sat at the bar, in a dive posing as a respectable restaurant in the small southern town of Ashburton, Louisiana. The hole in the swamp where he was born a puny human being. But, the sun was shining, the liquor flowing and he was undead. Another binge drinking vampire, with an unremarkable story in the midst of the murky swampland of the South. Edward, Louis, Armand, Lestat. If these vampires existed, he hadn't met them.
“Happy birthday, brother.” A man slapped him on the shoulder and sat on the neighbouring stool. Zac's younger brother Sam, just as dead as he was. Stuck together for eternity.
They were both dark haired and green eyed, but Zac took after their mother. He was tall and wiry while Sam was shorter by a head and more heavily built, like their father had been. Their parents had died shortly after the Civil War had ended and neither of them talked about that time anymore. It didn't do well to dwell on things they couldn't change.
He spent more time in the local bar than he did anywhere else. The alcohol helped curb the cravings typical for a creature that fed on human blood. He and Sam had returned to the town they had grown up in just over a year ago. Their nomadic life had done nothing but serve as a constant reminder of what they had become. Endless binge drinking, as Sam called it. But in Zac's case, a trail of bodies drained of their blood. It had done him good blending in with the humans; reconnecting with his old life.
“How does it feel to be a year older, old man?” Sam joked.
“I don't feel a day over twenty-three,” he rolled his eyes. Like time mattered anymore.
They drank a few rounds before Sam stood and said, “That's my lunch break done. Gotta go back to the grind.”
“I'll never understand why you got a job. It's not like we need the money.” Their family had been extremely well off, owning a large plantation before they had died. One hundred and forty seven years of interest made them very wealthy vampires, but they didn't really need it.
“No, but you know it helps with the whole human thing,” he whispered in his ear, conscious of the busy restaurant around them.
“Assimilation,” he rolled his eyes. Yeah, assimilating as a gardener, he thought.
“You got it, brother.”
“Don't let the sun bite, Samuel,” he muttered. The sun didn't bite. Searing agony was a more apt description. He met a witch once whom he convinced to spell them so they could walk in the day as well as the night. She spelled his body, but Sam was unconvinced and had taken a ring instead. Ended up, he had to go back and get a ring of his own. He resented having to rely on a flimsy piece of jewellery to stop him frying to a crisp. It wasn't until they ventured as far as Mexico that they found a bruja willing to help them, in return for a favour. The sun hadn't been a problem since.
Looking over his shoulder as Sam left he caught sight of Liz embracing his brother outside, kissing him on the lips. They looked perfect together. She was tall and lithe, long golden blonde hair, blue eyes. All American. Twenty-one years old and almost a year since she too had died. Sam had found her dead in the forest, until she woke up. They had both helped her through the change and her dietary adjustment was another story.
Zac couldn't tear his eyes from her. They had fought the way only brothers could over a pretty girl while she was still human. When she became … well, now it was different. She was his brother’s girl, but it didn't stop the fact that he cared for her more than he really ought to.
His line of sight was broken as a dark figure passed in front of him. Shaking his head, he turned back to his drink. Out the corner of his eye, he was aware of a dark shadow that loomed as if waiting for him to acknowledge its presence. Zac knew a man stood there and he knew that he was a vampire. The thing that unsettled him about it was that the man wanted him to know.
The stranger sat lithely beside him, his black leather jacket creaking as he leaned forward, elbows resting on the bar. Zac didn't look at him straight away, instead downing the last of his glass of scotch, sliding the empty glass towards the bartender, who caught it and began refilling. He knew all too well that Zac wanted another.
Turning, he looked nonchalantly at the stranger. He was a typical vampire, really. He had a similar stature to Zac and a grace in his actions that betrayed to other vampires what he was. There was a hardness in his eyes that suggested he'd seen more than his years, exaggerated by the severeness of his close-cropped blonde hair. With his all black clothing and leather jacket, he looked totally out of place with the typical lunch crowd. That, and it was a humid cesspool outside.
“What do you want?” he sighed. In his short stint as one of the undead, he knew vampires didn’t bother to speak to one another unless they wanted something.
“I'm looking for a woman vampire. Black of hair, blue of eye,” the stranger said smoothly like he was from another time.
“What are we, at a renaissance fair or something?” Zac laughed. “Look buddy, if you want to blend in, maybe you should alter your language a little. It's a bit weird.”
The stranger’s eyebrows rose. “And who are you to speak to your elders in this way?”
Of course this guy was ancient, Zac could never tell exactly how many years they had on him until they were trying to beat the crap out of him. Th
e older vampires were, the stronger they became, but that didn't mean they got any smarter.
“I'm the one who has claimed this town,” he sneered.
The vampire looked him up and down like he didn't believe a word he was saying. “Then you will be able to answer my question. It would be better if you do, then we could avoid any trouble.”
Zac knew a threat when he heard one. He'd given them out often enough. “Tell me who you are and I'll think about it.”
The vampire laughed. “Either you're very stupid or very brave. I am Alistair Payne, and who are you?”
“Zachary Degaud, vampire extraordinaire.” He inclined his head.
“And the answer to my question, Zachary? Have you seen this woman? It would be unadvisable to withhold her whereabouts.”
“I'm the only vampire in these parts, so your answer would be no,” he said with a shrug. “Did your girlfriend hurt your big bad vampire feelings?”
“Oh, come now, Zachary. I saw two outside not a moment ago. Do you really think I'm that stupid? She's wanted for crimes against her own kind.”
“What are you, the vampire police?” He couldn't help it.
“Keep prodding, vampire, and we will see how stupid you really are.”
Zac had no idea who this woman was and didn't really care. There were no other vampires in this town. “I have no idea who this woman is. She's not here, not unless she's turned up in the past day. No one here fits that description who is supernatural or otherwise.”
Alistair looked at Zac, like he was trying to gauge the truth in his words. He didn't dare look away from the vampire’s hard gaze. Even though he was telling the truth, it would be taken as an admission of guilt regardless. Except he couldn't help himself and turned back to his drink a little too soon.
Alistair smiled and this time it was a smile full of malice. “One thing I have plenty of is time. I'll be seeing you again, Zachary Degaud. Sooner than you think.”
He watched Alistair's receding form and grimaced. He was in trouble…again.
Afternoon light filtered through the tops of the tall cypress as Liz made her way through the forest. It wasn't far from here where Sam had found her that day when she’d died. They’d been friends for months before, but it wasn't until she woke up that she found out that Sam, and his brother Zac, were vampires and that she was becoming one, too.
She never knew who had turned her and left her for dead. It wasn't like they hadn't tried to find out, but they hadn't been able to find any clues at all. Liz had never doubted it when the brothers had sworn that they hadn't turned her themselves. It was no secret that they had a friendly rivalry over her when they had first moved to Ashburton, but they'd never take it that far. Especially since they had both been turned against their will, too.
Liz stood in the dappled sunlight, waiting. She smiled to herself when she saw Sam's dark form flashing through the trees. He was fast, and before she could dodge him, he grabbed her around the waist and swung her around, laughing.
“Hello, beautiful.” He grinned, kissing her lightly on the lips. “Are you ready?”
“Let's go.”
The forest was their special place. They’d spent many hours out here hunting together, Sam teaching her how to use her vampire strength to her advantage. They only fed on the blood of animals, both in agreement that they didn't like the feeling it gave of being predators. There were other ways to survive. Zac didn't agree with their choice and left them to wander the forest eating 'bunnies and fluffy kittens’ as he put it. But, Zac had taught her control when it came to being around humans, which was much more difficult than she had thought it would be.
Catching the scent of deer, she tapped Sam on the arm, motioning to her right. He nodded and darted off silently, to circle around, leaving her to stalk them head on. Just as he’d taught her.
She crouched down behind a tall cypress, watching the deer closely. She stilled herself completely, slowing her breathing, becoming as still as a statue, frozen. The deer’s head came up, its nose twitching as it caught a scent on the air. She would be too quick for it to charge her and hopefully it wouldn't bolt until it was too late.
Before she could pounce, she was pushed roughly against the tree, the bark grazing the skin of her cheek. The deer bounded away, startled by the sudden laughter behind her. She was pulled to her feet and shoved back against the trunk of the cypress, cursing to herself. She’d been too fixated on the deer to notice anyone approaching.
A group of five men stood around her in a semi-circle, eyeing her in a way that made her feel dirty. They could only be described as rednecks. Unkempt beards, dirty jeans and plaid shirts, except they had more muscle than anyone had a right to. Catching their scent on the air, she recognized the rank male smell of werewolves.
Liz had only encountered them once before and that was soon after she had been turned. They’d harassed her at work calling her names that any woman would find offensive. She wasn't a piece of meat and told them as much. But now she was afraid. There were five of them and she knew she couldn't hold her own against that many. She prayed that Sam hadn't gone too far and had heard their yelling.
“Well, lookey here boys. A little vampire chasing deer in our forest,” drawled the largest man in the center. “It's a true shame that she be one of them blood sucking leeches. She's a looker.”
He began to walk towards her, but stopped in his tracks as Sam appeared silently, standing in-between them. Liz sunk back against the tree, not knowing how to defuse the situation. The vampire stood eye to eye with the man, who seemed to be the alpha, his expression even. Neither moved or backed down.
Finally, the alpha laughed. “You're bold for a vamper. Be warned. If you come back onto our land, then you and your little girlfriend will pay.” He spat on the ground by Sam's feet and backed away, his wolves following. Their hooting and hollering grew fainter as they worked their way back through the forest.
It wasn't until they were far enough away that Sam turned and took her in his arms. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“No,” she said, hugging him tightly. “They just scared me, is all.” The small scratch from the tree had already healed itself.
He ran a hand through her hair. “Good.”
Drawing back, Liz rested her forehead against Sam's. “I have to warn Gabby. If they're going to town, they might try something.”
He nodded as she took out her cell and dialed the number. Gabby was one of her oldest and best friends and one of the three people that knew that she was more than human. If she didn't warn her before she crossed paths with the wolves and something happened, she'd never forgive herself.
Gabby sat at her desk at the Ashburton Real Estate office, tapping her pen against the table top, eyes focused on a far away point across the room. The buzz of her cell phone snapped her out of her daydream and she looked around, sighing in relief when no one had noticed. Especially her boss, whose office door was closed. Seeing it was her best friend Liz, she picked up on the third ring, ducking behind the partition around her desk.
“Gabby, I need to warn you,” came Liz's panicked voice. ”The werewolf pack is trying to claim the forest near the manor.”
“Are you okay?” she asked quietly, trying not to draw attention to herself.
“They just harassed us a little. Sam was able to scare them off. But, just be careful, okay? They know you're with us.”
“Sure, Liz. I'll be on the lookout.”
“Okay. I'm going home, but the boys will be at the bar later.”
“Sure. Do you want me to come over?”
“No, it's okay. I just don't want to run into them, not today.”
“Okay. Well, take care. Call me if you need anything.”
Gabby put her cell back in her pocket and tucked her unruly brown hair behind her ear. Liz was one of her oldest friends and newly made vampire. And she was a witch. Typical, ordinary American girls. Liz and the brothers were the only ones who knew her secret and she liked
it that way. If anyone ever found out, she'd probably become a science experiment.
She would never dare tell her parents. As far as she knew, they didn't have any power at all, so if she came right out and said, “Hey, Mom, Dad. I'm a real life bona fide witch,” she was sure it would be a one-way ticket to a mental hospital. Her grandmother had disappeared when she was little, when she was accused of being a few sandwiches short of a picnic, and didn't want them to think it ran in the family.
Gabby had found her grimoire, her families’ book of spells and incantations, amongst some of her Grams' things in the attic. It was only then that she began to understand her affinity with magic.
She started visiting the cemetery near the old Degaud Manor, conducting her 'experiments' as she called them, trying different spells and rituals that were written in the grimoire. Silly things, like lighting candles, making things levitate and communing with the earth. The last was her favourite; every witch had an earth sense of varying strengths. She didn't quite understand what it meant, but when she concentrated, she could feel living things around her. Plants, trees, insects. Even the stars if she focused enough.
That was why she was surprised at first when she met the brothers. She was sitting cross-legged in the old cemetery early last winter, feeling the shift of the seasons in the plants around her, when she began to feel uneasy. She understood later that it was her latent power warning her that she was being watched. When she opened her eyes, a man was standing in front of her.
It was like he was a statue, until he grinned lopsidedly at her. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”
Gabby began to panic. She hadn't sensed the man at all and she could always feel people when she had her earth sense focused. That would mean that the man was … dead? That couldn't be right. She scrambled to her feet and took a few steps back.
