Dead Girl Walking (Barbie: The Vampire Hunter Book 2)

by Lucinda Dark

  My mind shot back to the night before last, when she’d come into the workout room. We’d nearly … I’d nearly … I wanted to throw her on the ground and tear her clothes apart. I hadn’t wanted something like that—at least, not to that degree—in years. Not since puberty had first hit. I was always in control. My will dominated my fucking emotions. No amount of attraction or horniness would bring me down, but I’d nearly been felled by her. Now, I was left wondering if that was even her that had acted like that or if it was the demon.

  If that was the case, if it was the demon and not Barbie, what did that say about my reaction? How I'd treated her. Was I the one to blame?

  "Now you know there isn't any truth to that, young man," the woman—Esperanza, Torin had called her—said. "If you can't see what you're feeling for that girl, then at least you should know that hurting her is not something you seem to be capable of."

  "What?" I jerked my head up as she moved past, dropping something in my arms.

  "Hold that," she ordered, her long skirts swishing around her ankles. I looked down and blinked at the cane in my arms.

  I lifted my head. "Don't you need this?"

  She limped across the room and began to pull things from one of the cabinets and deposit them on the counter. "I'll live," she replied. "Will you turn on the stove for me, back left burner, child."

  I set the cane to the side and moved to the stove, reaching up and twisting the handle as she'd ordered. With how much she was collecting on the countertop, I suspected she'd need a pot. I went searching through the lower cabinets where people usually kept those kinds of things and found a rather large blackened pot. Pulling it out, I set it on the burner and turned towards her, narrowing my eyes as she continued to move.

  For someone who normally used a cane, and who was so short and older, she moved pretty fucking fast. "Why did you say that?" I demanded.

  Coming to a stop next to me, she approved of the pot I'd selected with a nod and then reached for one of the bottles of dark sludge she'd dropped next to the stove. Uncorking it, she poured the contents into the pot. My eyes watered. Jesus—Fuck! That shit stank. I stepped away, leaning as far back as I could while still remaining nearby.

  "Why did I tell you not to blame yourself?" she inquired as she set the empty bottle back on the counter and reached for a new one. "Perhaps because blaming one's self will do nothing but keep you stuck in the past when you must stay in the present in order to survive what I suspect will be coming your way."

  "How did you know what I was thinking?" I snapped. Could she read my mind?

  She chuckled as she dumped the contents of the bottle over the first. "It doesn't take a mind reader to know that you're concerned for the girl. Even with my poor eyes, I can see that. Though I do find it interesting that the dhampire would allow you so near considering..."

  I frowned. Tamping down on the irritation that she thought Torin could allow me to do shit, I stepped forward once more. "Considering what?"

  She turned her head and looked at me, those clouded misty eyes of hers sharpening—clearing until they revealed dark brown irises of the deepest brown. Like ancient soil that hadn't seen the light of day in ages, pulled from the depths of the Earth's crust. Those disturbing eyes of hers moved down over me and I felt my body tightening in response. If I'd learned anything from Barbie it was to never underestimate the looks of a person, but she didn't do anything but cluck her tongue and look away. Something told me that no matter if I asked again, she wouldn't answer my question.

  "You need to think over your own desires carefully," she said as she turned back to her concoction.

  "My own desires?" My own desires had nearly led to me pounding Barbie into the fucking workout room floor. My own desires were the fucking problem right now. They'd blinded me to what was going on, kept me from seeing the changes in Barbie or rather—they'd forced me to overlook the changes. I cracked my neck to the side, the need to punch something pulsating through me. My foot began tapping incessantly against the tiled floor.

  "You do not need sight to see that what comes for the three of you will be quite the catastrophe. That girl and the dhampire are both embroiled in a scheme of nefarious intent. Make no mistake, young man." She stopped and glanced over her shoulder at me—rooting me to the spot once again. "Should you stay with them, you may find your very life forfeit."

  Hearing that said aloud ... it shocked me. I didn't know what to say. Silence descended on the room and the sounds of her movement grew dim as I thought about it. Well and truly thought about what the fuck I was doing. The fact was, between Barbie and Torin, I was the weakest fucking link.

  When Esperanza asked me to retrieve items from her cabinets, I did. She directed me around the kitchen, retrieving more bottles and strange jars with contents that slicked through their glass containers. I did it all absently, as if I were on autopilot. For the first fucking time in my life, I felt out of control, powerless.

  "What do I have to do?" I couldn't stop the question had I tried. It was yanked from my mouth, harsh and demanding.

  Esperanza paused in her stirring, and without looking at me, she spoke. "Depends on what you're willing to do."

  What was I willing to do? I asked myself. The danger was real. The threat to not just my life, but Barbie's and possibly Torin's as well was indisputable. Even if I called it quits and walked away, where would that leave us. Where would that leave Barbie and I? I couldn't erase my memories any more than I could erase the growing emotion at Barbie's nearness. There was no fucking way I could just walk the fuck away and pretend like what she was doing wasn't going to get her killed. Demons. Vampires. It didn't matter. There was no walking away from this.

  "What I have to," I finally said. "Whatever it takes to keep them alive."

  A small smirk appeared at the corner of the old woman's lips. "Good." She cracked open a jar and dropped what looked like round green meatballs into the mixture. The meatballs themselves smelled like a combination of fruit and grass, but when put into the mix, it changed. I peeked over her shoulder wincing when they melted, the liquid bubbling up and turning the same shit green color as the balls. "Unfortunately," she finally said, "that might not be enough. Humans are fragile."

  "Is there a way for a human to compete with a vampire ... or anything like it?"

  "Good question," she replied. "It's possible, but not without sacrifice."

  "I'm willing." I'd never been more fucking willing for anything else. I'd do what she deemed necessary if it would make me useful. I needed to be useful. I couldn't stand the weakness of my humanity, no matter that it hadn't bothered me before I knew about supernaturals. I'd gone from thinking I was at the top of the food chain to realizing I was nothing but practically helpless in the face of the creatures that Barbie faced, the creature that Torin was. Perhaps had I not grown up with him, I wouldn't have been as shocked. As it was, though, it was hard to equate the child he'd been to the creature I knew him to be now. Why? Why the hell had he been my friend at all?

  "I'd think on it some more," Esperanza finally decided. "I will do my own research, but when you're ready, come back and we'll go from there."

  I nodded realizing that was as good as I would get from her for now. It was enough that she thought there might be an opportunity to be better, to grow stronger. That was something I needed, something I craved. And with that thought, I realized I couldn't be pissed at Barbie. She had wanted the same thing. That was why she'd allowed the demon to possess her. I knew that in my soul. She wanted that same power I sought.

  The more I thought, the more Esperanza poured her seemingly random ass shit into the pot. The stench grew fouler, rising from the pot on the stove until I couldn't bear to be anywhere near the damn thing. I felt like I was fucking choking on the putrid air of the kitchen. Torin stepped into the kitchen, pausing in the doorway. He didn't even bat an eyelash at the searing noxious odor that cloaked the room. With a glance at me, he nodded to the hallway in a silent gesture. I knew
what that meant. The time had come.

  I left Esperanza to her brew and followed after him.

  The tension in the air was palpable. It seeped between my pores and choked my throat. Our gazes clashed as we stepped into the room adjoining the kitchen. When we came to a collective stop, we stood across from each other. I was stiff, my muscles taut and achy. Torin’s hands were balled into tight fists, his nostrils flaring. It was uncomfortable, but I waited him out.

  Minutes went by until his lips parted and he spoke in a low, stilted tone. "Why … didn't you tell me?" It was his first demand, his first accusation. And from his tone, it wouldn't be the last.

  "I didn't know," I answered honestly. "I didn't think it was anything more than her attitude," I continued. "I didn't put two and two together until that woman"—I stopped and gestured to the empty doorway where Esperanza moved beyond, carrying a new bottle filled with the liquid she'd been brewing as she strode past the threshold towards the hall, her cane back in one hand—"mentioned it."

  Torin held my gaze for another split moment before he turned and moved to one of the chairs that decorated the small sitting room. Silently, he sank into the chair and sucked in a deep breath as he bent over and shoved the strands of his hair hanging in his face back with a rough palm. "I trusted her with you," Torin said quietly. "This isn't good."

  It might have hurt less had he used all of his supernatural strength to punch me through a wall. The air was knocked from my chest, nonetheless. "I'm sorry..." And I was. I was so fucking sorry that I hadn't seen it.

  Torin shook his head, not daring to look up again. "It's—I shouldn't blame you," he said. "Barbie didn't say shit when she should've." We both went quiet and, somehow, I found the strength to move. I strode across the room to a chair opposite his and sat down, leaning over and resting my elbows on my knees, keeping my head up as I watched him carefully. "She's...her personality," Torin started again, "it's probably a result of what happened to her family."

  I swallowed roughly, guilt eating away at my insides. Seeing her entire family slaughtered in a single night. Of course, that was why she acted the way she did. What the hell had I been thinking? She didn't act like it bothered her, but there were signs. The touching was one. Her avoidance of being touched by strangers was no coincidence. It couldn't be. Torin was right. It was a fucking coping mechanism. I could only imagine what the hell kind of fucked up issues she dealt with on a regular basis without the demon. With the demon...

  Power. It was all about power. She was still thinking of her revenge. Vengeance was a strong thing. I knew it. I stared at the man I'd known for nearly my entire life and saw him for what he was. Tired. Exhausted. Completely fucking wrecked by a tiny blonde woman who liked her swords as much as she liked her fucking sarcasm. We were a mess, the two of us. All because of her.

  "When do you think it happened?" I asked.

  Torin didn't have to guess at what I was referring to. His head lifted and he leaned back as if he needed the comfort the chair offered, not just its legs to sit upon. "Probably when Rachel attacked her," he answered, looking off to the side, his jaw working. "It probably jumped from Rachel to her. I should've thought of that, but I'd been..."

  "So what now then?" I prompted when he let the sentence drop, never finishing it. "What do we do about it now?"

  "There isn't much we can do if she's signed a contract. Demonic contracts can't be broken," he replied.

  "How much do you know about demons?"

  Torin looked at me, his lips turning down as he thought the question over. "Not much," he admitted. "But from what little I do know they're extremely powerful. The power Barbie would exhibit is barely a fraction of their true potential. That's why they're locked away. They haven't been allowed to roam Earth for thousands of years."

  "Then how is one able to possess her?" It made no sense to me. How could she be possessed if a demon wasn't actually there?

  "They physically can't be on Earth," Torin corrected. "That doesn't mean they can't project their spirits. Barbie has to be incredibly strong to be able to carry one around without being obvious about it, though I suppose we already knew that."

  "Yeah." We'd known. I didn't think there was a woman stronger than her. If there was, I hadn't met them and I wasn't sure I wanted to.

  "Contracts are usually short-term and one way demons ensure that their victims fall prey to their clutches is by sucking the life out of them over a period of time. A demon's victim usually gets weaker, not stronger as Barbie has. If she's been carrying this demon for months then either she's more than human herself or she made a different type of contract altogether," Torin said.

  "We won't know until she wakes up," I concluded.

  He nodded and grunted as he got to his feet. "No, we won't," he agreed. Torin walked to the doorway that led into the hall and stopped, looking back at me. "We have to keep a careful eye on her for the foreseeable future."

  I sucked in a heavy breath as I moved up alongside him and held out my fist. "Understood."

  Torin looked from my fist to my face before he, too, lifted his arm and bumped his fist with mine in a way we'd done since childhood. It was a promise, an oath between us that we wouldn't let anything happen to her. Even if that meant we had to protect her from herself. And knowing Barbie, that was definitely a possibility.

  Thirteen

  Barbie

  The first thing I noticed when I woke was the absence of pain. It was ... startling as well as relieving. The second thing was the strange ceiling over me. A rusty looking fan dangled from what looked to be an arching room, the blades spinning so slowly that it did very little to actually circulate air. Instead, all it seemed to be accomplishing was releasing a small rainfall of dust on my face.

  I coughed and then that cough turned into a sneeze. Covering my nose and mouth with a hand, I sneezed a total of two more times before I sat up and froze. Three people stood in the room with me. Two I knew well, and one I didn't recall at all. Torin and Maverick took up sentinel positions next to each other just inside the room. Maverick stared at me with dark eyes, a frown fixed on his face. Torin's arms were crossed over his chest, but his eyes were no less turbulent.

  "Where—" My voice rasped out of my throat, low and hoarse. I blinked as a glass of water was shoved under my nose by the third person in the room. Hesitantly, I took it from the old woman and gently put it to my lips as I stared at her over the rim. The water was cool against my throat and it helped to clear the gruffness from my voice when I tried to speak again. "So..." I started, looking awkwardly from Maverick to Torin and back. I sucked in a breath and sat up straighter.

  Torin was the first to speak. "We know about the demon."

  I tensed all over again, lowering the glass and setting it on the nightstand at my side. Silence stretched throughout the room. My gaze kept darting to the woman who sat at the end of the bed, her wrinkled hands folded in her lap, a cane leaning against the baseboard. "I'm sorry, who are you?" I asked, unable to stop myself.

  Tilting her head to the side, she spoke. "My name is Esperanza,"

  "She's a witch," Torin answered. "I asked for her help when you passed out. Are you going to say anything?"

  "Thank you?" I tried.

  His eyes narrowed, but it was Maverick who spoke next. "You should have told us," he said darkly, lifting his arms and folding them across the broad expanse of his chest until he mirrored Torin's stance.

  "I was going to," I said defensively. "I wanted to wait until Torin came back from—"

  "You've been possessed by a demon for months, Barbie," Maverick interrupted. "Far longer than Torin has been gone. You should have told us when it happened."

  He had me there. I clenched my fists in the bedsheets.

  "How did it happen?" Torin asked.

  I lifted my head and met his gaze, but I couldn't hold it for long. Defensive though I felt, they had had a right to know and I had chosen to keep it a secret. Why? Because it was uncomfortable. Because I didn't
know how to tell them. Because I knew they'd be pissed. Because I knew it would change things. But none of that really mattered now, did it?

  I darted a glance to the woman. I didn't know how much I could say with her in the room. And as if she heard my thoughts, she got up off the bed, retrieved her cane and went to the doorway. Stopping long enough to put up a gnarled hand on each of the guys’ arms. My eyebrows shot up when they both lowered their arms. It was as if she had cast a spell over them. Their tension drained away. Each of them looked to her for a moment and then she was pulling away and leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

  "Alright," Torin sighed, striding forward until he came to the side of the bed and took a seat in the waiting chair. "Talk. We need to know everything."

  Now that the woman was gone, there was no reason not to give them the information they demanded. "The demon was in the amulet that Rachel wore the night she attacked us," I started. "When I broke it, I ... I somehow got a piece stuck in my palm and when I passed out, she spoke to me."

  "The demon did?" Torin clarified.

  I nodded.

  "Is it still in your palm?" Maverick asked. I nodded again and lifted the hand in question, turning it over so he could see the marking. "How the fuck did I not notice that?" He strode forward and reached out until he cupped my hand in his grasp to stare at the marking. I nearly jerked my arm away when a zing of heat moved through me. He paused, his eyes darting up to mine. "Sorry." He released me just as quickly.

  "It's fine," I assured him, but I tucked my hand away anyway, holding it under one leg as the desire to touch him more resurfaced. The pain was gone, but the need—the craving—was still there. Touch. Desire. Sex. Sweat began to form at the small of my back.

  "What happened next?" Torin prompted.