by Jill Cooper
Chapter One
Life changed. People moved on.
But Natalie would never be the same.
Natalie Johnson squatted down atop a cliff. Her eyes followed the crowds of people below as they filed into the pancake house. The wooden stake in her hand dripped with black blood, and judging by the rustling in the trees below, she wasn’t done using her stake that night.
A group of teenagers got out of their car and headed into the Maple Sweet restaurant, unaware they were being trailed by someone in the shadows—someone lurking in the comfort of the trees. His movements were controlled with delicate precision as he crept along, and even from this distance, Natalie could make out the yellow of his eyes.
Vampires. She hated the lot of them, but they were her job. Her mistake—her problem.
She started her descent off the mountain, her feet perched on the rocks, and her knees bent like she was going to surf the cliffs. Natalie’s plan was to sail through the air, putting her trajectory between the innocent teenagers and the vampire ghoul…
Until her foot slipped and pebbles slid out from underneath her sneaker. Arms flailing, Natalie fell onto her butt and slid down the rocks until she landed on her stomach right beside a parked car.
Her blue glasses sat askew on her face like she’d fallen asleep on them, but at least she hadn’t been knocked unconscious this time. Natalie hopped up to her feet and a rasping growl caught her attention.
The vampire was eyeing her like she was walking lunch. Most vampires couldn’t speak, and this one was no exception. Instead, it just growled at her, though his eyes flashed recognition of who she was.
Good. Maybe they were circulating an undead flyer with her picture on it; that would keep the undead ghouls up during the day when they should be sleeping to recharge for their evening feeding.
He advanced on her, but his movements were cautious, and he barely got within arm’s length. Natalie leaped forward and snatched him by the arm. She then spun him as if they were dancing a private waltz and sent his body crunching into a parked car. The vampire howled and lurched forward with his clawed fingers outstretched for her.
Natalie stomped on his foot, kneed the beast in the stomach, and delivered a knockout punch across his jaw. The vampire’s head snapped to the side and blood sprayed out of his mouth. His eyes rolled like shiny marbles in their sockets, and his eyebrows drew together in an angry scowl. He hissed, saliva dripping down his chin, and Natalie took the opportunity to drive her wooden stake into his chest.
With a solid thrust, Natalie grunted and heard his sternum snap in his chest. She stepped back, pulling her stake free with an angry flourish. This was the point where she was supposed to say something witty, but she found she couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” Natalie whispered. “I’m sorry, Mr. Mitchell, that I let the vampires into our town. I’m sorry for what they did to you. I’m sorry you had to die for my mistake.”
Her mistake. She hadn’t known her daydreams were real and would bring nightmares into the real world, or that she would have to use a powerful magic to stop the Patricians, a group of supercharged magicians, in a tug of war game with her power as her prize.
The crystal was only thing that could defeat them, and when she did that, she had let more vampires and demons into Meadow’s Creek than there were geeks at a Star Trek convention.
The vampire’s face changed for a split second, and Natalie thought he might speak to her, but that was crazy. Even if he could, he’d never get the chance, as his body began to puddle into black blood. Natalie watched as his face melted away like a lit candle turning to wax. The gooey liquid dripped against the car and began to drip down the driver’s side door.
She felt like sighing and could have cried if allowed to think on it for too long. Luckily for her, a group of girls from school came by. They were in denim miniskirts and clingy tank tops. Even though it was August, they were spray-tan orange—it was hard to get an even tan in Vermont no matter what time of year it was.
“Eww,” one of the girls said. “Did you puke on that car?”
Another girl rolled her eyes. “Puke isn’t black. Or maybe yours is.”
Natalie turned away. “I didn’t do anything,” she defended, but the mocking laughter that followed rang in her ears. Her eyes stung with hot tears, but it wasn’t because of the teasing—that didn’t bother her anymore. When people turned into undead, bloodsucking beasts because of things you did, a little thing like laughter didn’t bother you so much.
Natalie heard clapping coming from the restaurant, and she headed toward it. She saw Kenneth with his thick black glasses. He was dressed in a navy suit and a matching tie. His jacket pocket was lined with a plastic protector, and in his hand was a brown clipboard. Underneath it all, Natalie saw a handsome older man. The guy had to be pushing twenty-one, and he was in Meadow’s Creek for her.
Kenneth checked off a few boxes on his clipboard. “Ms. Johnson, your dismount was less than stellar, and while your staking was efficient, you forgot to issue the requisite one-liner.”
“I didn’t forget.” Natalie’s lips set in a straight line. “I didn’t think it was appropriate. A man died.”
Kenneth’s face remained unchanged. “His fate doesn’t change whether you issue the witty remark or not. And you were breaking protocol.” He sighed and tucked the clipboard under his arm. “As your probation officer, I am forced to remind you that the quicker you prove to me that you are ready, the faster I can approve you for field duty. Then we can both go back to our lives.”
Natalie held her breath and her cheeks puffed up with air while she listened to his latest criticism. “Now I feel forced to remind you that I am already in the field. I stopped the Patricians from destroying the town and stopped Morach from killing Mr. Buckle. I’m new, yes, but I think we were doing just fine before you got here.”
“But you failed to capture him, didn’t you?” Kenneth’s chin stuck out in a smug display. “The World Organization of Magical Protection has commanded his capture, and until you do, your mission is incomplete as far as WOMP is concerned. If I must, I will repeat section two, paragraph seven B—”
Natalie held up her hand. “No need.” Her teeth smacked together. “I remember. I’m going to go back inside and get something to eat. All this vampire hunting has made me hungry.”
Kenneth brought his clipboard back out to jot something down, but he remained quiet. Natalie was glad. She hated going toe to toe with him and was grateful that most of the time her custodian, Charles Buckle, worked as a buffer. Even so, she wished Damien was around to put Kenneth in his place.
But no one knew if Damien was dead or alive. His body was never found inside the rubble of the high school cafeteria after the explosion last spring, and no one had seen him since that day. After everything they’d been through, she knew if he was okay, he’d come back. But he hadn’t, so maybe he was dead too. An agent against evil for years, and a few days with her had ended his life.