Hunter Trials (The Vampire Legacy Book 2)

by Rita Stradling

  I almost jumped when my phone lit up with Zack’s first text.

  Zack: Vampire is already out here with Lucas.

  The ugly twin is taking his sweet time.

  They’re circling each other.

  Not sure if he’s going to kill it or ask it to the Hunter’s Ball.

  Fuck. The vampire grazed Lucas’ face with its claws.

  Me: What? Is he okay?

  Zack: He’s fine. I’m pissed. Now he’s going to have some sexy ass scar on his cheek, and I’ll officially be the ugly twin.

  FML. There are chicks here literally swooning already.

  Me: Zack! What is happening?

  Zack: They’re still circling.

  Oh, the now better-looking twin hooked his leg around the vampire, and it's down.

  Staked.

  Dead.

  Two minutes and a second. The boy did well.

  My vision blurred, and I clutched my chest as relief warred with sheer terror in me. I was comforted that Lucas made it while at the same time panicking that it was my turn. I had to kill a vampire.

  The metal doors opened, and the paramedics rushed out, examining Lucas’ face as he walked in across the red clay. Two long gashes dripped blood down Lucas’ cheek, but he was grinning wider than I’d ever seen him do before, and that was saying something.

  When I offered him a hug, Lucas scooped me off my feet and squeezed me tight. “I’ll be right here waiting for you, okay? And you can stop this at any time, just yell out for Mitch to buzz the vampire,” Lucas said as I hugged him. He set me down and grinned again, his face still dripping blood. “You sure you want to go through with this?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” I managed. “Go get your face stitched up.” I patted him on the shoulder as I held my breath and approached the weapons table. Swords lined up next to shorter blades. They shone green under the artificial tunnel light. Each looked razor sharp.

  Professor Whitney scooped up the one blade that lay there in a leather sheath. “I brought this one for you. The Hawthorn Group wouldn’t let us disqualify you from this competition.” She pointed between us. “That’s just between us here. Almost every teacher in this school signed a petition to have you disqualified from this hunt, but it was dismissed by the Hawthorn Group. But there’s no way that I’m going to send you in there with a lethal weapon you don’t know how to use. This here is a sharp, one-sided blade. Only take it out of its sheath after you’ve staked the vampire in the heart.”

  I swallowed hard and nodded, taking the knife and wrapping the leather belt attached to its sheath around my waist. When it was on, I picked up one of the stakes.

  A tear leaked onto my cheek, but I wiped it away with my wrist.

  Professor Whitney gave me a straight-lipped smile and clapped me on the shoulder. “I’m hoping Mitch Holter is trigger-happy with that buzzer. Don’t be afraid to call for him to do it early.”

  I nodded, even though I knew that I needed to see this out or Sebastian Holter would punish my mother.

  I stepped to the doorway and squeezed my eyes shut. I could do this. This was what I was born for, wasn’t it?

  The whole world felt as if it was tilted, just slightly off its axis, and when light blasted into my closed eyelids, I wondered if I could even make my legs walk out onto the clay.

  Shading my eyes against the overhead lights, I took my first step into the stadium. My vision cleared, and the metal structures took form before me. My palm began to sweat around the stake, and I squeezed my fingers into the wood until it bit into my skin.

  I somehow managed to put one foot in front of the other, heading out across the stadium floor. The night air felt absolutely still like some almighty power hit the pause button on the world. If only that were true.

  The structures somehow seemed taller, and when I stepped out before the freestanding elevator, I felt completely walled in.

  The whole world seemed to fall away, and there was only me and those metal elevator doors. Water dripped down my face, but whether it was tears or sweat, I had no idea. I wiped at my cheek with my free hand and felt a layer of grainy clay on my face.

  The elevator doors slid open, and my heart jumped. I expected smoke to pour out like in the video or for someone to leap out and attack. Neither happened.

  Instead, the vampire stood there in the metal elevator box, watching me, and a sob ripped through my chest as I stared at his familiar features.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Somehow, I wasn’t even surprised to see my father standing there. It was as if a part of me was steeling myself for this; the moment I saw the destroyed house with the claw marks on the walls.

  He was huge and muscular. Blond hair a similar shade to mine lay disheveled around his sharp features. He looked maybe mid-twenties in the light, the age he was when he died. His eyes were an ice blue that seemed to freeze my insides.

  Dante Mortus clearly wasn’t surprised either. His shoulders were slumped, and his gaze roamed over my face like he was memorizing the details. He raised his hands, holding flat palms out toward me, and stepped out of the elevator slowly.

  My mouth dried and started to ache, and I realized that Sebastian had never given me the blood he promised me so I wouldn’t go into a blood frenzy if my father injured me.

  Prime Evil was understating Sebastian Holter’s depravity. There were no words for a man who’d force a girl to kill her father to protect her mother and grandmother. He’d even promised to give me my boyfriend back if only I killed my own father. Anger boiled up in my chest, burning away the fear that had gripped me.

  If Sebastian Holter stood before me now, I’d tear his head off with my bare hands.

  “Are you going to attack me, Dad?” I asked, my voice coming out rough like there was truly a fire crackling in my throat.

  He clenched his jaw and shook his head. “Never.”

  I didn’t know this man. I’d seen him twice in my entire life, and both times were terrifying, but yet, I knew that I would rather die than murder him.

  I released the stake in my hand, and it thumped onto the clay and rolled away. My father didn’t even look down; his gaze continued to fix on mine.

  “I’m so sorry that I failed you.”

  “Do you know what happened to Justin?”

  He nodded. “Sebastian Holter met me last night. He says that a clock started the moment these elevator doors opened. You have five minutes to kill me, or Justin dies.”

  A ringing sound rose in my ears, and the corners of my eyes darkened. The warm air thinned, and I couldn’t pull enough of it into my lungs. “No,” I wheezed. “Hell no.”

  My father worked his jaw back and forth. “You’re going to have to kill me. I’m sorry. This is the punishment. You have to kill me, or he’ll first kill Justin, and then he’ll let your mother and grandmother die tonight.” Dad dropped to his knees, and red dust sprayed up around him. “Listen to me, January—”

  “Fuck that. No.” I staggered back a step. “Stand up.”

  His blue eyes met mine. “I have killed hundreds of innocent people, maybe a thousand, maybe more. The only drop of goodness in me is that I remember how much I loved you and your mother. If you two die, there will only be the monster. But … we both know it won’t come to that. There’s no way that that fiend is going to let me out of here—he made that very clear when he visited me last night. You still can.” He gritted his teeth. “You just need to do it—kill me.”

  I shook my head. “Did the Hawthorn Group do this to you? Are they the ones who turned you into a vampire?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “It’s better if you don’t know.”

  He might as well have confirmed my suspicion. I knew it in my heart—the Hawthorn Group was behind my father’s transition into a vampire. They turned him into a monster. I just didn’t understand what could possibly compel them to do that to one of their own agents. “Why did they do this to you? What’s the point of all of this?”

/>   His eyes snapped open, and he fisted his hands at his side. “Stop looking for answers. Do what Sebastian tells you. Then, you need to go back to school and keep your head down. That’s how you’ll be safe when I’m gone.”

  “No.” I held out my hands. “I’ve been doing everything he tells me. Do I look safe?”

  “No. You’re not,” he said it right away. “But to Sebastian Holter, the benefits of keeping you alive will outweigh the risks of having you survive. If you knew why this happened to me, that hope would vanish.”

  “Are vampires evil?”

  “Yes,” the vampire king snapped the words at me. “I never hesitated to feed and kill. I feel no guilt, no remorse. I don’t even love you. I just know that in the beginning years of becoming what I was, when there was still lingering humanity in me, I did. All that’s in my head now is strategy and survival.”

  If that were true, he wouldn’t be on his knees, waiting for me to kill him.

  A loud banging echoed through the stadium, and I turned to see the stadium door exploding open and slamming back into place. There was a blur of motion of someone zipping through the arena, and dust exploded out into my face. I tasted dirt, and then my father’s body went flying through the air, crashing into the structure across from us with a loud bang.

  Suddenly, Mitch stood before me, his breaths coming hard. He looked back. “January. You have to end this.”

  I lunged between them and grabbed Mitch by the shoulders. “Stop … wait … please.”

  Mitch held up a phone, and I could see ‘Sebastian Holter’ at the top of the screen. Sebastian’s voice crackled out of the receiver, “January has forty-five seconds to kill her father. Forty-three…” Mitch threw down his phone and scooped up the stake I dropped. He pressed the wooden length into my hand. “I can’t do it for you. Please, don’t let Justin die—please.”

  Tears coursed down Mitch’s cheeks.

  I loved Justin so much, but I couldn’t do it.

  I couldn’t kill my own father.

  “I’m so sorry, Mitch.” I shook my head. “I’m so sorry.”

  Mitch broke away from me. “Fuck!” His voice echoed around the stadium. “Fuck!”

  I spun back to my father, who stood a few paces away. He approached slowly, reached out, and wrapped his hands around my wrist. A jolt of electric heat licked across my skin, and he morphed. The smooth skin of his face changed to leathery and gray. Long fangs descended from the top and bottom of his mouth, and sharp ears grew up over his head. His fingers around my wrist lengthened into talons. His skin felt scaly and cold against mine.

  I wrenched away, but he held firm, pulling my wrist up until my hawthorn stake was just over his heart. “Do it.” His voice was barely understandable through his fangs. “End this.”

  From the clay at my feet, Sebastian’s voice counted down out of the receiver. “Ten, nine, eight—”

  “Do it,” Dad said again.

  I knew that no matter what choice I made, I would regret this moment for the rest of my life, but there was only one choice.

  I tugged back my hand, and my father’s grip fell away. I looked at my father as his face returned to human flesh and teeth blunt enamel. He nodded.

  Then, I pulled back my hand and threw the stake as far as I could.

  Sebastian said, “Three, two, one.”

  “No. I’m not murdering my father as part of one of your twisted games. If you plan to kill Justin, you’ll do it no matter what I do here. You will never turn me into your monster.”

  Mitch’s phone screen returned to a home screen. The call had ended.

  Vomit surged into my mouth, and I leaned over. Acidic liquid burned up my throat and splattered onto the clay. “I’m so sorry,” I screamed. “I killed him.”

  “Hey. No.” Tears streamed down Mitch’s face as he crossed the distance and wrapped me in his arms. “It’s not your fucking fault.” His whole body was shaking as he squeezed me to him. The rank odor of my own puke burned my nostrils and snot and tears streamed down my face. My whole body felt shaky and empty.

  Screams echoed all around us. We were in the center of an amphitheater full of students, and, until this moment, I had completely forgotten.

  Mitch broke away from me, pushing me behind him so hard, I had to slam my hands into a metal wall to catch myself. I turned around, only to see that the elevator had opened again. Mist poured out, and people scuttled in the fog crawling across the red clay ground. Eight vampires stood simultaneously. Their glowing red eyes fixed on me.

  “We could really use some fucking help from our teachers right now!” Mitch yelled, but from what I could tell, our teachers were running for their lives along with the students.

  “We’re here for the dhampir,” one of the vampires said as his bluish-black hair reflected the lights above. He wore a suit and a red silk shirt, but even his fancy human clothing somehow looked unnatural and wrong. “We don’t want to fight you, Dante.”

  “Then why are you here, Anthony?” Dad hissed, baring long fangs at the approaching vampires. The vampires moved slowly, seemingly in no hurry to get closer.

  Mitch backed toward me slowly, scooping up my stake as he passed it. “We need to get to those metal doors.”

  “Except that only works if someone is on the other side of them.” I fumbled out the knife at my belt. Gripping the handle, I held up the sharp cleaver. Cleaver was an exaggeration.

  “Where’s your sword?” Mitch asked as he drew level with me.

  “This is what they gave me.” There was a rack full of swords, and Professor Whitney gave me a kitchen knife.

  “I’m going to protect you. Give me the knife.” Mitch reached out, and I hesitated only a second before handing it over. As loathed as I was to be weaponless, I saw Mitch move in mystical arts and when he fought off the attacker outside Gregory Hall. He knew how to kill with this weapon. I was more likely to hurt myself.

  “Let’s play a game,” my father hissed through his fangs as he widened his stance before Mitch and me. He held up two clawed hands. “How fast can I rip off your limbs?”

  The vampires fanned out, sidestepping around my father. Their human features morphed, ears growing into sharp points, and fangs elongating.

  “We just need the girl,” the one my father called Anthony said, and then he snapped his fangs, spraying frothy spittle down his chin. “She’s a risk to yours, Dante. Step aside.”

  “She is mine,” Dante snarled. He didn’t look human anymore. His nose was two skeletal slits. His eyes bulged, glowing red. Massive claws curled down from his fingers. He looked like a meld of man and enormous leathery bat. Even his elbows jutted out, sharp and wing-like. Across from him, Anthony’s sharp elbows burst through his suit jacket. His back bowed, and eyes bulged.

  Mitch’s jaw dropped. “They’re both fucking master vampires.”

  I had no fucking clue what that meant. I’d been so focused on the mechanics of killing the vampire this week and figuring out what happened to Justin that I learned almost nothing about vampires themselves.

  “Elite, take the dhampir out of here. I will not let these Hawthorn servants give her to their master.”

  Anthony hissed, and spittle sprayed from his fangs. “It’s a temporary arrangement that will end before dawn. The dhampir will be dead, and we’ll have free reign of King Street as it should be. You’ve had us cowering for too long. Hand over the dhampir, and we’ll give you one more chance to lead the coven.”

  Mitch backed up, and his back bumped into my front, and he stepped back again, pushing me with him. “We need to run for those metal doors; it’s the only way out of here. You need to zip.”

  “I didn’t come close to learning how to.” My back hit the metal. “And I won’t just leave my father here to die.”

  “He’s not leaving this arena alive, January. We all know that. Let him die in the way he wants to.” Mitch turned. “If we’re here, he’ll be protecting us. He’ll just end up dying for it.”

>   “Fine. The best I can do is run.”

  “Well, then do it. I’ll be right behind you.” He nodded to a space between two metal structures.

  I took one more look at my father, who still faced down the eight vampires alone. Then, I spun and ran into the metal corridor. Growls erupted behind me, sounding like a massive dog fight. As my feet pounded against the red clay, I attempted to dispel my disbelief and zip, but absolutely nothing happened. The corridor veered left and right, and I went on instinct and spun toward the left. At the next fork, I spun to the right, just trusting my gut. There were ramps leading up, but I ignored them, keeping to the lower path.

  A roar erupted behind me, and I glanced back to see furious movement and bodies tangling. I faltered a step and fell to my knees, my hands broke my fall, hitting the clay. Something flew past me, and gray filled my vision. There was a crash behind me, followed by snarling and ripping. The metal doors came into view, only a dozen feet from the end of the corridor.

  Pain exploded in my back, and I leaped. The world blurred for just a moment, falling away, and in the course of a single heartbeat, I was in front of the metal doors. My stomach flipped, but I ignored it and raised my fist and banged, feeling the reverberation up my bones. Where my fist hit, the metal dented in, but the door didn’t open.

  The snarling grew all around me.

  A sudden, searing pain licked up my back. My fangs filled my mouth, cutting into my lip, and the now all too familiar craving for blood burned up my throat.

  I banged again, feeling the reverberation all the way up into my joints. The door pushed open, just a crack, and I wrenched it open more and looked into a horribly familiar face. The corridor was empty, save for one man.

  Sebastian Holter smiled and lifted a gun. There was an earsplitting bang, and my chest exploded with agony. The world faded away, and another bang split the air. Then everything went black.