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

by Lucinda Dark

  Esperanza’s cloudy eyes moved towards where Barbie lay. Though she couldn’t see her as clearly as I was able to, I could feel that she was using her other senses, whatever senses a witch had that I didn’t. “For now,” she said. “But it won’t last. Whatever it is that she’s done is too strong for the potion I gave her. This is merely a reprieve. Nothing more.”

  “She…” I hesitated, unsure how to describe what I’d witnessed. “I think she used the demon’s powers.”

  “Which ones?”

  An image of Barbie’s eyes glowing gold and blue rose forth in my mind. “Strength. Speed. There was something off about her. It was as if all of her humanity had been leached from her eyes. When she looked at me, it was Barbie, but it wasn’t.”

  “She overused the demon’s powers and reached a higher level of possession,” Esperanza said.

  “What does that mean?” I shifted at the end of the bed and looked back over my shoulder. Barbie slept on peacefully. I turned back.

  “There are multiple levels of possession,” Esperanza explained. “Your friend is at the lowest level, at least right now she is—it can alter back and forth depending on the demon, the host, and the contract. There are altogether five levels of demonic possession. Level one is presence—when there is a demon present inside a person’s body. Level two is partial manifestation—when demonic abilities begin to manifest in a person. Sometimes, this can be an uncanny sense of intuition or strength they might not have had before—”

  “She has that,” I said abruptly. “I’ve noticed that in training exercises, she’s stronger than she used to be or than she should be. She’s able to throw me across a room.” I winced, remembering a time when she’d flipped me over onto my back mid-grapple so fast I hadn’t seen it coming. “That means she’s been at a level two possession when she’s been fucking training.”

  Esperanza nodded. “Most likely. Level three is obsession.”

  “Obsession?” I frowned. “What’s that?”

  “Obsession is when the host begins to demonstrate an obsessive trait such as fixating on a particular person or goal. This is also the stage in which the demon and the host grow closer together. They’re beings begin to meld and you will see signatures of the demon from the host.”

  My mouth grew drier than a desert and it physically hurt to clear it as I prepared my next question. “Would…” I paused, coughing as I cleared my throat once more before trying again. “Would different colored eyes be a sign of that?” I asked.

  Esperanza turned those murky eyes my way. “Yes,” she said the word simply, but it felt like a punch to the gut.

  I breathed through my mouth. “What”—I couldn’t seem to get enough air in my chest—“what are the rest?”

  “Level four is partial domination,” she continued. “When the demon begins to take over the host’s body. Level five is complete possession. It’s rare since the host is usually driven insane or killed before the last level comes to fruition.”

  All of the air I’d been trying valiantly to stay in my lungs left my body in a quick rush. Barbie was actively switching into level two and tonight … tonight she’d gone further. Did she even know? I wondered. My head began to pound. Even if I didn’t want to involve him, I had to tell Torin—the fuck. He was already involved. We both were. There was no turning away from this.

  “Do you think…?” I started. Uncertainty was a fucking rock in the pit of my stomach. “Do you think she can handle it?” I managed to grit out.

  Esperanza shrugged. “It depends on her. I can say nothing for sure.” My shoulders sagged and I turned back to Barbie, putting a hand on the footboard and leaning heavily against it. We were fucked, it seemed, no matter what we did. And without any information, what could I do? As if she heard my thoughts—and who could fucking know for sure? She was a witch after all—Esperanza spoke again. “Do you remember what I said the last time you were here?” she asked.

  Of course I did. It was what had led me back. Barbie needed help and her fucking words had slid through my head like she had always been there, watching me and waiting. “Yes,” I answered.

  “And?” her voice lifted with curiosity. “Have you made a decision?”

  I stared down at the girl on the bed. No, the fucking woman. Barbie’s blonde hair was spread over the pillow, a cascade of golden strands. A little beast lay beyond the beautiful exterior of this woman. She was fierce. She was dangerous. And there was no fucking way she wasn’t going to delve deeper into the precarious world of the supernatural. If she was going to the dark side, I finally decided. There was no point in me remaining behind.

  Despite how much I’d tried to deny it—how much I’d tried to shove her away—there was no carving this woman out of me anymore. She was lodged inside. The ghost of a bullet that couldn’t ever be removed. My gun rested heavily against my lower back.

  I pivoted on slow feet and lifted my head to meet Ezperanza’s deadened expression. “I have,” I said.

  “What have you decided?” she asked.

  The night Barbie had nearly died saving my life, I’d been made aware that humans were not—in fact—at the top of the food chain. It had rocked my fucking world. I’d always thought I could defeat whatever came at me. I just had to work hard enough, train hard enough, become strong enough. But no amount of work, training, or strength would change the fact that I was a human with one foot in both worlds.

  As I stepped towards the old witch, I knew that my decision would remove me completely from one of those realms. I accepted that fact. I knew that this would change me, but I was fucking done being the weak link.

  There was no going back after this, and with that understanding, I opened my mouth and I said the three words I knew would change me for fucking ever. “I need power.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Barbie

  I was asleep.

  And then … I wasn’t.

  I bolted up in bed, panting, chest aching. My hands reached out, sliding across semi-familiar covers as I tried to get my bearings. Where was I? The last thing I remembered was blood, heaps and heaps of it pouring down from gaping wounds. Slamming the end of my blade into a vampire’s body, slicing off his arms, listening to the sounds of his shrieking agony. Unfortunately, that wasn’t even the most disturbing part my memories were dredging up. No. It was the feeling that had sluiced through me as I’d done those things. The thrill of power in my veins had been sheer unadulterated pleasure.

  I had basked in that vampire’s pain. It was music to my ears—a veritable symphony that had relaxed my muscles and made me smile. A random vampire didn’t deserve such torment. I wanted to save all of that for the one who’d been behind the deaths of my family. I was a hunter, but I wasn’t a torturer.

  Are you so sure about that? Satrina’s question startled me, making my fingers clench in the bedsheets.

  What the hell do you mean by that? I demanded, heart racing.

  Do you remember anything else about your foray in the warehouse? she asked.

  Did I remember anything else? I shook my head. I remembered enough. Far too much, if I was being honest. Satrina’s snort was loud in my mind and I closed my eyes. Over and over in my head, I kept repeating: What the fuck? What the fuck? What the actual fucking fuck!

  We’ve gone over this, Barbie, Satrina said. With my power comes certain side effects.

  I swear to fucking God if you want to talk to me about having sex right now—

  That’s a problem that you will have to deal with whether you like it or not, she interrupted. But at the moment, you have a respite. Albeit a brief one. What I’m talking about are the side effects of using my powers. In using a demon’s powers, you take on a few of the—shall we say?—personality traits of said demon.

  “Are you fucking telling me that I’m turning into you?” I didn’t even have the wherewithal to reply silently. The words sprung from my lips, the sound of my voice echoing in the dimly lit room. A small clock somewhere in the house c
himed three times. 3 o’clock. I glanced to the window. It was still dark outside. It must be 3 a.m. rather than p.m.

  No, of course not, Satrina replied, though there was some hesitancy to her tone. A wavering that said she wasn’t being completely honest.

  I gritted my teeth. Satrina, I enunciated her name with perfect clarity in my mind and I knew it captured her attention fully. I could feel her beneath the surface of my mind, focused and waiting. I am your portal into the mortal realm, I said. If you lie to me, I will ensure that this portal is closed to you. Permanently. Do you understand?

  A beat of silence lingered for just a moment before she responded. What are you going to do, Barbie? Kill yourself? Even a teenager such as you wouldn’t—

  Oh, but I would, I replied. She grew silent, and the longer her silence went, I knew she could sense the danger she was in. The promise of my words.

  You won’t turn into me, she hurried to say. But it’s bound to happen that some of my traits will bleed over when you consume my power.

  Why those traits? I hissed. And why did they make me feel like a goddamn monster? I didn’t voice that last question, but that didn’t erase the feeling. It still clung to me like the ghost of action I couldn’t take back.

  Barbie… Satrina sighed. What exactly is it that you think demons do down here in hell?

  I… I paused. Truth be told, I’d never actually given it much thought. I had initially assumed that demons were just … monsters. Pleasure seekers. I’d never really given much thought to the idea that they might have a purpose, that they might have jobs.

  We do, Satrina said, picking up on my thoughts. Demons are the punishers of sinners. We, the creatures built for sin, are tasked with the business of incarcerating and disciplining the mortal evils.

  Mortal evils? I repeated.

  Yes, she replied, her tone growing distant and cold. The mortal corrupt. Pedophiles. Rapists. Murderers. Even if they receive no punishment in life, in death, we demons take up the mantle of making sure the crimes they committed are paid for.

  You’re a torturer, I said, shocked by my own surprise. How had I not guessed before? I didn’t know. She was powerful, but she had seemed so unassuming, I supposed. At least, for a demon.

  It is one of the many titles I have been given, yes, she replied with a sigh. And likely the reason you acted as you did towards those vampires. Do remember, though, darling, she said reverting back to her normal tone. One that was far less serious and somehow, comforting. They are vampires and they have likely killed dozens if not hundreds of humans and not all of their prey went painlessly.

  The truth of her words didn’t erase what I’d done, but it did make me feel marginally better. Before I could say anything, however, Satrina spoke again. Beyond that now, your respite from the consequences of the power you consumed will come to an end soon.

  I blinked, jarred by the abrupt change of topic. What exactly caused that? I asked.

  I could sense her frustration like a rippling wave in an ocean, it started with her but stretched out, reaching throughout my own limbs, making me feel tingly. I’ve told you from the very moment you signed my contract, she began, that you would need a way to release the power you consume. I’ve warned you time and time again that you would have to give in and use one of my methods. Those little potions you’ve been drinking are Band-Aids whereas my methods are the cure. Have you listened, though? No. You have not. You are the reason for your own pain and you have no one to blame but yourself. I am a succubus. When you use a succubus’ powers, you are essentially using your life force. My life force, she stressed. The only way to replenish is to have sex or die.

  I stiffened. Have sex or die. Those were my options? Are those my only options? I asked.

  I heard her snarl as if she were sitting right next to me. Before she could muster up a scathing response, the door across from the bed clicked, alerting me to someone entering. I glanced to the side, but my weapons were nowhere to be found. I was not in the mood to be attacked again. I was the epitome of not today Satan. I fisted the sheets and slid to the side of the bed, urging my legs over as I kept my gaze trained on the door. I clenched my fists as I darted across the room to the other side of the entryway. The shadows seemed to converge on me. I didn’t know if I was calling them or if they were calling me, but whatever lingering effects of Satrina’s power had yet to abate. She was right. Though the pain was held at bay—by what, I wasn’t sure—I felt my entire body respond to it. Lapping it up like a hungry whore.

  I remained vigilant despite the chills chasing up and down my spine. My body tightened, preparing to take down an enemy, but as soon as I saw the familiar outline of the man who strode into the room, all of the tension drained out of me.

  “Shit,” he cursed when he saw the bed was empty. Before he could dash out of the room, however, I sighed and shoved the door closed behind him, resting my back against it. Maverick whirled around, his eyes wide, shoulders pulled taut beneath the black t-shirt he wore. “Barbie…” I couldn’t have stopped the shiver that worked its way through my whole body at the sound of my name on his lips if I had tried. “You’re awake.”

  I swallowed around a suddenly parched throat. “I am,” I croaked.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, his autumn burnt eyes resting on me and taking me in.

  Unable to respond verbally, I gave him a simple shrug and stepped away from the door, moving around him and back to the bed. Now that I knew he wasn’t a threat, I needed to sit down. My legs were trembling.

  I sank onto the mattress, my fingers digging into the side as I tried to control the power echoing inside me.

  There’s only one thing you can do, Satrina warned me again. I shook my head, slamming the door shut on her and turning the lock. I couldn’t focus on both her and Maverick in the same breath. I was too exhausted and on edge right now.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I realized a bit belatedly that the room I was in was cold, chillingly so. I shivered as the fan above me churned and spun, sending out small dust particles that made my nose itch and more cool air circulate which made goosebumps rise along my shoulders and limbs.

  “Barbie?” Maverick said my name again, a question on his lips as he moved closer and for the first time since he entered, I realized what else was happening.

  My body was hot. Not just hot, it was burning up. Heat flared beneath my skin, rippling in waves. Down my arms, through my legs, up my inner thighs—heading straight for… Oh fuck. The thought erupted into my head as I released a grunt and doubled over. My core tightened. Desire licked up my spine, making me arch back.

  “Barbie!” Maverick came around the bed and reached for me. Before I could even think about it, I shoved him. The movement so rough and strong, he slammed into the wall across from me.

  “Oh shit, Maverick, I’m sorry.” My hands shook as I lifted them to try and help, but I stopped and looked at them. I couldn’t touch him right now. If I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop. My whole being was screaming at me to take him, to use him, to ride him until all of this power that had built up inside me could be released. But I wouldn’t—I couldn’t. In the shape I was in, I’d take him without consent. I knew, with Satrina’s power, he wouldn’t be able to stop me. I couldn’t do that to him.

  As if sensing the dangerous and precarious cliff I stood on, Maverick slowly got to his feet. He didn’t make any sudden movements as my insides rioted and squirmed within me. It was painful. Jagged pieces of glass shredding at my intestines, demanding their release. My eyes watered with the effort it took to remain right where I was.

  “You have to go,” I gritted out. “I’m sorry, you have to—you have to go, Mav. I don’t know how long I can hold it in.”

  Eyes like a dying rose, brown and aged—beauty in its own demise—met mine. “Let me help you,” he said.

  “No, you can’t.” I shook my head. “I need more of Esperanza’s medicine, that’s the only thing—”

  “Barbie, we just gav
e you some,” Maverick interrupted me.

  “W-what?”

  His lips turned down as he edged closer to me, coming to the side. He was nearly to the bed and all I could think of was pushing him down on the mattress, ripping open his jeans and straddling him until the pain turned to something a bit more pleasurable.

  “We’ve been giving you doses of the medicine while you slept for hours,” Maverick informed me. “Your last dose was given to you fifteen minutes ago. If you’re awake and in pain, then it’s not working anymore, Barbie. There’s nothing else we can do. You have to let me help you.”

  His fingers reached for me, the tips just barely skimming down my arm. Neither of us knew it then, but that one simple touch—even as innocent as it was meant to be—was the beginning of the downfall. His and mine.

  Twenty-Eight

  Maverick

  She was shaking, and she was fucking beautiful. Her eyes were glowing, but both remained the same blue shade they’d always been. Barbie tracked my movements like a caged animal, but she wasn’t the prey. I was. And strangely, I found myself okay with that. The last few hours had been some sort of self-imposed hell for me. After that initial dose of medicine from Esperanza, I’d given it to her the way the old witch had originally suggested. But as time crawled by, it had become clear that the potion wasn’t working anymore. Now, it was completely useless.

  I was pretty sure I knew what would happen if I touched her. My back still twinged from when she’d thrown me against the wall. The utter shock and fear written across her face had morphed immediately, guilt taking its place. Right now, all I focused on was the hunger. Whether she knew it or not, we’d been building towards this moment since the first moment she stepped into my family’s house.

  “You have to let me help you,” I said. Barely a whisper on my tongue, but my words were loud in my ears. I wanted it. I wanted her. For the rest of my goddamn life, I’d always want her. That much was clear. Esperanza would make it happen. The deal I’d struck—much like the one Barbie had with her demon—would ensure that I couldn’t be left behind. I wouldn’t be the weak link anymore. I’d be her protector.