Dead End Diner: Book one

by Bea Biddle

Tamas ignored him. "What is your name, human?" he asked Karen, running a finger along her upturned nose as he held her in place by her neck.

  "Karen," she coughed out.

  "An exotic name," he drawled at her, his mouth cracking open in a dangerous grin.

  "Yeah, alright," Karen heard herself mutter.

  "Tamas." Cef warned him. With one look from Tamas, the blades on his neck sliced a little deeper, the tip buried itself a little further into his chest. Cef growled at the pain but didn't move a muscle. That would be a weakness. He could show no more of that.

  "You're lucky, little human Karen," Tamas continued, "Not many people get to witness the full opening of a rift. You will. Well, the beginning anyway. You will want to watch this, Ceftion." Out of his coat, he pulled a short blade, black as the swords, a twin for her own Skarram.

  "No!" Cef yelled, jerking his body forward out of desperation. Forgetting his determination. Black as his t-shirt was it was impossible not to notice the patch spreading on the fabric caused by the pressure of the blades on his skin. Cef knew if he didn't stop moving they wouldn't hesitate to slice right through him. In fact, they may just be waiting for that chance. But he couldn't. They were going to sacrifice Karen. Tamas swung her closer to the stones, exposed her throat and raised the dagger.

  "Hey, uh, hey! Wait just a minute," Garth interrupted, practically jumping to Karen and grabbing onto her arm. "We took the girl and we got the Demon here, didn't we? We had a deal. The girl is mine."

  Tamas sighed with impatience. "I have to say, Ceftion, you've managed to surround yourself with rather interesting races. But interesting as they are, they tend to be quite annoying," Tamas said as he sneered at Garth. "How very entitled they are."

  Garth took a few steps back from the Demon but still pressed on. "She's ours. You promised me I could have her once Cef was here."

  Tamas sighed again and dumped Karen on the floor. "Take her then, and be gone," he spat with great annoyance. He turned back to Cef, ran his finger along the blade of the dagger and licked his lips. "Demon blood will have to do. That will even make more sense. The traitor will open the path for us."

  Garth dragged Karen out of the room, again by her hair, making her yelp out in pain. "Cef!" she screamed but it was in vain. He could not save her. And she certainly was in no position to save him. The pack followed Garth as he continued to push Karen out in the open, he finally let go of her and she landed in the freshly fallen snow. Stumbling to her feet quickly, she whipped towards him. "Get off the hair!" she screamed in a panic.

  He just laughed. The rest of his pack were eerily quiet in comparison. Jake shuffled his feet, refusing to look at her. Garth took hold of her again, holding her arms tightly by her side as he crushed her body to his. She was unable to move, she tried struggling but it was no use. He found that immensely amusing. "You are a lot more trouble than you seem, princess. See, I knew Alyssa hadn't just found a typical human, but you-" Clicking his tongue, he shook his head. "You are something else indeed. How did you lure the Demon into your bed? How? We're all just dying to know."

  "What are you going to do with me?" Karen demanded.

  "You know what bothers me?" he asked instead of answering. "That first night we met, you beat me. You beat me at my own game." He grinned widely at her, but it never did reach his eyes. Instead, he appeared manic, unhinged. He was shaking and having a hard time standing still. He had gone insane. "You actually managed to escape. But not this time, this time, you will face my wolf and you will lose."

  "It was just pure dumb luck!" Karen yelled at him in frustration. "All this because a human managed to fight off a Were? Dammit, Garth, I jabbed my fucking heel in your nose, of course, your wolf ran away. It was just luck, I got in a lucky shot that night, that's all it was!" She understood now that it had been a matter of pride for him. Being beaten by a girl as a fully transformed wolf was something that he hadn't been able to cope with. He wanted so badly to roam free as a wolf, and she as a mere human had stopped him.

  Garth ignored her. Ignored everything around him. He continued to hold her close, continued to breathe his horrid breath on her face. "You are a waitress, you will take my order. Fresh meat," he growled and licked her forehead. She shuddered in disgust. "One order of meat so fresh it can still scream out in pain."

  "You're- you're going to eat me?" Karen stuttered.

  "Eventually. Let's have some fun first, though," he whispered, "I might just throw you to the pack. I like to watch."

  "Over my dead body," Karen growled. Her knee made contact with his groin, as hard as she possibly could, and he doubled over gasping for air. Before the rest of the pack knew what had happened Karen had taken advantage. Torn herself out of his loosened grasp and started to run. Running hard through the falling snow as she heard Garth groan and yell out in pain behind her.

  "Bad move, Karen," Garth screamed after her, his voice strained and high pitched, sounding very much like the madman he had become. "Very bad move," he added with a groan of pain. A groan that turned into an involuntary growl of fury. He panted and fell on all fours as his back started stretching, his jacket tearing down the spine. A loud howl escaped his lips. "Follow. Her." He just managed to get the words out before his mouth no longer had the capacity for speech. His fangs glinted in the moonlight and his ears twitched, another long howl sounded from the wolf. This time echoed from his pack behind him. And they ran after her. The chase was on. Human flesh was within reach.

  Twenty-one.

  Karen ran. Faster and faster. The sound of the pack behind her propelled her forward with a speed she didn't know she had. The wolves were on her heels. She could hear them, feel them. The ground under her feet shook and wobbled as the massive creatures thundered and threw themselves after her. Howling and snarling, their heavy breaths misty, jaws snapping in the frosty air.

  She couldn't outrun them. Heavy paws hit the ground harder and harder, catching up. She couldn't outrun them. Her lungs burned, her throat was sandpaper, every limb of hers felt like concrete. She couldn't outrun them. Panic was spreading. Cold sweat ran down her back. She could taste her heart pounding. Outrun them? Not a chance. Think Karen, think! She sped through snowflakes that continued to fall from the sky gently, as if she wasn't running for her life, darted past warehouse after warehouse, in and out of the narrow spaces in between, jumping coils and barrels, dodging crates and containers that stood in her way. All the while wolves were at her feet, closing in on her, tearing through obstacles that splintered and shattered. She could not outrun them. This was not how she thought she was going to die. Not hunted by a pack of wolves. Not ripped apart by beasts.

  And then, just as she was on the verge of hysteria, something clicked through the haze of terror and panic, a stray thought, but she went with it. What was it Sylvester had told her? Wolves, they were nothing but wolves. What did wolves do? They followed scent, didn't they? Before she could second guess herself, before she could snort and roll her eyes at the stupidity of the plan, she tore off the jacket. It was Jake's, but she desperately hoped enough of her scent had rubbed off on it. Her sweat should have soaked through. She threw it down a narrow path between two looming warehouses, then ran in the opposite direction. It was all she could think off. She prayed it would work.

  A howl made her falter, she almost stopped dead in her tracks. They were so close. Too close. Off went her shoe, that would be nice and smelly, it went down another path. Again, she ran in the opposite direction. The other shoe, another direction. She zigzagged and crisscrossed towards the road she could see in the distance. Dressed down to her thin t-shirt and jeans, her bare feet hammered along the pavement. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, she had no time to feel cold. Wolves howled from all directions. She had actually managed to split them, to confuse them. She couldn't believe it had worked, it had actually worked. No one should be allowed to be that lucky.

  The city was within reach, she could have cried with relief. Emerging from the opening between two wa
rehouses, she gasped with joy. Just a short trek along a row of containers. But no, she was not that lucky. A snarl from above her made her stumble. Atop a stacked pile of empty barrels, a large, gray Were watched her with small beady eyes. It howled, a fierce, piercing howl that made Karen's hair stand on end. Thick claws dug into the wood that cracked and groaned, teeth so big in the large open mouth they shone in the moonlight when it snarled at her.

  It jumped for her. A massive, furry wrecking ball made of claws and teeth hurling towards her. She cried out and threw herself to the side, her body hammering against the building to her right. Her shoulder made contact with a large, wooden door, making her yelp out in pain, as the Were landed on the ground. It slid on the snow, claws digging into concrete as it growled and snarled its disapproval at missing its victim.

  A door. Karen was against a door. Taking advantage of the few seconds it took the Were to get back on its feet, she pushed inside and slammed the door shut after her. The Were was on the door faster than she had expected, having only time to push the heavy, metal handle down to lock it before it hammered its heavy body against it, trying to break through. It threw itself against it, again and again, snarling and snapping angrily, howling and growling in fury, it made the whole building shake and Karen fell back on the cold ground at the impact.

  Crawling backward, panting and huffing, she looked around the large open room she had fallen into. Empty. There was nothing there. Nothing to help her. No back way out. No windows to escape from. The only source of light was the small windows near the ceiling high above her. Darkness. It was so dark in there.

  The wolf continued tirelessly, throwing its body against the door repeatedly. She could hear it scratch and paw at the reinforced wood, she could hear the metal groaning. This was not good. She heard it howl again. Soon the others would join it. She scrambled backward, a renewed panic clutched at her throat. She had locked herself in a prison, awaiting death. She was going to die. There was no way out.

  Her head collided with something in the darkness. Metal rods? She turned, feeling around. No, it was a cage. A cage in the middle of the warehouse. It was so dark she hadn't seen it before. "What the-?" she muttered.

  A shuddering breath, ragged and strained came from within. “Karen?” it whispered, so small it was barely audible.

  “Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no!" Curling her hands around the bars, she shook it. "No, no, no. Please, tell me you're not in there. Sly? Is that you?" The silence from within grated at her nerves. For a moment she feared she had conjured up his presence out of sheer panic, only imagining him there. Another rattling, deep breath told her otherwise. The hammering on the door made her jump. "Sly?"

  The breathy voice whispered, ”Stay away from me.”

  Another crash against the door. Karen whimpered unwillingly. ”No. I'm getting you out of there. Where's the door?”

  ”Leave me.”

  ”Shut up,” she growled at the darkness, ”And tell me where the fucking door is.” She felt along the bars, the cage was not big, not a large cell. She moved around it, frantically searching for any kind of opening. He didn't move, she could hear him struggling to breathe, hear the air rattling through his chest. But he didn't move. As she walked closer to him, walking towards the sound of him, she moved into the shadows herself. And there he was, her eyes adjusted, the moonlight burst through the high windows illuminating him.

  Karen pushed off the bars with a gasp, jumped back in shock. There was no doubt that was Sylvester. Hunched over in the corner of the cage like a wounded animal. But that was not the Sylvester she knew. He had faded, a skeleton of his former self, his skin hanging on his, no longer lean, frame like a blanket. When he rolled his head back to look at her, how she wished he hadn't. His eyes were so cloudy, glazed over and dull, and so sunken in his eye sockets. His pale skin had darkened to gray, splotchy and coarse, veins protruding. Lips so dry they were nonexistent on his face. There was no beauty left in him, no glamour. The person in front of her, the shell of the former Vamp, looked nothing less than the monster he had tried to convince her that he was.

  ”Leave me,” he repeated, pleading with her. His skull fell back, hitting the bars he was huddled against, as if his own head was too heavy for him to hold. His normally bouncy, shiny, white hair was so transparently thin, giving the appearance it would blow away any second.

  She swallowed, forcing her legs to move forward. She crouched by him, outside the cage. ”What did they do to you?”

  ”I hunger,” he rattled, ”I thirst. I need... I...”

  ”I'll get you out,” Karen whispered before she realized she had. ”Tell me where the door is.” Another loud crack from the door. The wolf's heavy body making contact again and again. She had no time to lose. They had to get out of there, there had to be a way.

  ”Don't,” Sylvester whispered. ”Do not open the cage. Please, Karen.”

  ”Are you insane?” she shrieked at him. ”We have got to get out of here. Do you want to die?”

  ”I'm already dead," he coughed out, a rattling noise followed, then a weak laugh.

  ”Alright, do you want to die again then?” she exasperated in annoyance. The Were was getting impatient, she could hear the wood giving a little every time the heavy body threw itself at it.

  "I've been undead for so long, Karen, too long, I would welcome the eternal rest."

  "No, don't you dare, Sly!" Karen yelled, hammering her hands on the bars.

  "I told them where the stones were," he confessed in a whisper. "I'm sorry. I'm so drained, I-"

  "I don't care, Sly," Karen begged him. She could feel the sting of tears forming in the corner of her eyes. "Please, just- Please, let's get you out. It doesn't matter now.”

  "Blood and sex," he gasped out, coughing. ”There is no more to me. That is all we are.”

  ”Bullshit!" Karen growled, hammering on the bars with her hands. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything I said, for the way I acted. I was an idiot. A massive idiot. I was just scared and hurt and- Fuck, I'm so sorry." She rested her forehead on the icy metal bar, curling her fists around them. Ignoring the thundering Were at the door. "Please, Sly. I can't believe I'm saying this to a dead guy, but you're one of the best friends I've ever had. Don't leave me, I need you. I need my Sly back." She wanted to cry out of desperation and helplessness. She needed Sylvester, she had missed him dearly when he had been gone. She couldn't let him fade away into nothingness. Couldn't let him die here. "I need you. Don't leave me. Don't leave us. The diner needs you, Cef needs you, Alyssa needs you. We all do." The few tears that had made their way down her dirty cheeks she wiped away with the back of her hand. "Please, Sly," she begged, “Don't leave me.”

  ”Karen,” he whispered. And that was all he could get out. With another deep, ragged breath he shut his eyes to her.

  Karen growled, refused to give in. Rattling the bars with a growl, she punched them angrily and wiping the last of her tears she stood up, more determined. "Right, let's get you out of here."

  "Don't open the cage," he whispered.

  "Stop it Sly. I'm getting you out." Resuming her search, she moved around the cage. She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally found the lock, and then cursed her luck when she saw she needed a key for the padlock that hung on it. "Dammit," she growled, scrambling around, searching the place for anything she could use. The relentless hammering on the door by the Were made her scurry and shake. But along the wall, she finally found something, an old pipe, heavy and perfect. "Let's get you out," she told him.

  "Karen!" The effort it took for him to yell made him cough and wheeze. "You cannot open this cage," he repeated, "I can't... You will not be safe."

  "What are you talking about?" Karen ran back to the padlock with her pipe.

  "I would hurt you."

  The hammering on the door got louder, the wolf howled and scratched on the door. Karen heard the crack of the wood. She needed to get them out of there and fast. "You would never hurt me, Sly," she br
eathed desperately, "You're my friend, right?"

  "Karen, please," he begged, "I can't... think, I can't promise..."

  "Oh, shut up, you old Vamp. We are getting you out of there and then- well then we'll see about getting us out of here." She slammed the pipe down on the rusty old lock. Nothing. A few pieces of wood burst from the door, they slid towards her, the snout of the Were barging through a loose plank, snarling and snapping. She hammered the pipe down again. This time it clicked off and landed on the floor with a sound that echoed through the empty warehouse. "Considering how long you guys live, you do a really shit job of the general upkeep on your properties," she remarked, then kicked the rusty lock that slid along the concrete. Sylvester didn't answer. "Sly?"

  "Karen," he wheezed, "Run. Run now."

  Karen dropped the pipe on the floor. She didn't have time to run. The Vamp came charging out of the cage, a flurry of fangs and claws coming straight for her. Cold hands, sharp nails digging themselves into her skin on her shoulders and neck. All she could see was gray skin, small colorless eyes, and large fangs. And she heard herself scream.

  ✽✽✽

  That was Karen. That was her scream in the distance. Cef's muscles tightened. Every single fiber of his being, every last drop of his anger, told him to fight, demanded that he take action. This was his woman. His blood was boiling, but he could do nothing. The ropes gnawed on his skin, cutting into his flesh, and the Skarrams at his throat and chest wouldn't hesitate to dig deeper.

  Tamas had heard the scream, too. Satisfied with the situation, he sauntered over to Cef as he tested the dagger on his thumb, feeling the familiar weight of it in the palm of his hand. He began scraping it up and down the side of Cef's face. "I would not worry. She will stop screaming eventually," Tamas cooed at his former friend. "Perhaps I will be so lucky as to hear you scream as well?" Cef didn't answer. "No, somehow I doubt that, too. You are much too proud, are you not?" Tamas didn't wait for an answer before he turned his back to him and walked over to the stones. They glistened in the light from the rift, dark green shimmer swirled on their surface. He picked one up, caressing it carefully. His hand shook with the power of it, and he began tracing the ancient rune with a single finger. "Bring him here,” Tamas ordered, his voice hoarse, the underlying current of excitement undeniable. ”I will take his blood now."