This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ELL CLYNE BOOK ONE: SOULED OUT
Copyright © 2012 by Blakely Chorpenning.
Interior formatting by Indie Designz
Cover art by Paper and Sage
Editing by Rhonda Helms.
All rights reserved.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
Except for use in review, no part of this book may be reproduced,
scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form now
known or hereafter invented- without permission. Please do not
participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in
violation of the author’s rights.
This is an original publication of Belle-Merrick Publishing.
ISBN-10: 0-9847010-3-6
ISBN-13: 978-0-9847010-3-2
DEDICATIONS
This book is for my parents. Though it is not my first book published, it’s the first one I finished. You have been there every step of the way, and you know better than anyone that my dreams may have began here, but they started taking shape so many years before this. And dreams are only as great as the love we give them. Thank you Mom and Dad for giving me enough love to fuel all of my dreams.
This book is also for our newest generations: Milo, Ivan, Asa, Zora, Charlie, Ellys (my “Baby Love”), Ares, Noah, Austin, Ben, Grace, Naomi, Devin, Andy, Garrett, McKenzie, and coming-soon-Audrey. Don’t be afraid to run to the edge and dare it to give you everything your heart desires.
And, of course, this book is for everyone who has traveled into the darkness without a flame and created your own fire.
Prologue
I never expected eternity to feel so damn long. The real shame is that it’s barely started. I took the vow four years ago to become the Cypher, but hadn’t figured on life losing its patina until I was at least a hundred, maybe two hundred years old. And the prospect of eternity, especially in this town, will drive a girl unequivocally mental.
It seemed like a sweet deal at first. Live forever without becoming the undead. Possess a bank account that can support a small island. Days and holidays subject to my whim. And all I do in return is a little soul searching. But it turns out that reading souls, which saved someone very dear to me, has left me with one dangerous mother of a secret. Oh, and a hole next to my heart where my own soul used to be.
I learned quickly what my world was... And more importantly, what it could never be.
My life isn’t normal because I am no longer normal. I’m twenty and already put out with the world. And now the monsters are growing wise to my conspiracy.
Am I ready for what I’ve started?
Chapter One
It was Friday night and since everything was blooming in the early stages of spring, hibernation in Mission, North Carolina was officially over. The evening sky was open, the light waning as fast as legs scattered. A few languid clouds tried to shield some of the billions of stars. I wished they would fall to the sidewalk and hide the people who were, no doubt, meeting with friends, finishing last-minute chores, or just enjoying life. For a mediocre-sized town it sure acted like a big city—not that I had first-hand knowledge to compare.
Living in Mission was not my first choice, or even my choice at all. The Allegiance, the eldest vampires and, consequently, the ones in charge of my status as the Cypher, had decided this modest town at the base of the Smoky Mountains was the perfect headquarters for our little operation. And by little I mean worldwide. Why not a fun ride like Reno or Hollywood? Why some sedate, no-dot-on-the-map place? Because I wasn’t in charge. That was my answer, anyway, when I asked four years ago while packing boxes in my hometown of Somerset, Texas. I had no room to argue their decision, so Mission became my new home.
And being a Cypher is fairly simple. The vampires bring the prospects to me so I can “read” their souls—which consists of sucking their souls into that empty space in my chest—to gain insight into their future actions. The vamps want to know whether or not the prospect in question will jive with their particular cause. If it’s a bad date, they go their separate ways. Even the prospects are left ignorant to their fates. If they’re destined to do something great or horrible, to become an asset or hindrance, they may not be aware of it. Their souls, however, know what storms and blue skies the future wields.
To vampires, I was the Cypher. Amongst humans, I looked like a withdrawn teenager. To myself, I was no longer sure. Was ‘undecided’ even an option?
Walking down the street, I was invisible in the crowd, to the crowd. Voices swarmed, mixing with millions of rustling sounds. Along with the cacophony, people bustled so close their body heat grazed my skin and disappeared, only to be replaced by the next, and the next. It was a living maze, constantly shifting, altering, swaying. Between the human chaos and the steep rise of tightly clustered buildings woven to create the cityscape, I was overwhelmed and dizzy. Unable to stomach the mist of humanity a minute longer, I resolved to escape the heaving streets.
What was a soulless girl to do?
Chapter Two
The best thing was to hang out at Danny Lynn’s sports bar, Two Cents. I know, sad. But it was only four and a half blocks from my house when I cut through a few backyards and skipped down a dark ally.
I never found much solace at Danny’s, though it gave me a place to be openly bitchy, which had become my brand of socializing. So I wasn’t winning any congeniality pageants. It saved me from barricading myself in the house. And it gave me a reason to get dressed, even if that only meant thin T-shirts and baggy jeans.
Two Cents may have seemed like an odd choice of hangouts, especially with its overdose of Southern décor reflecting Danny’s North Carolina upbringing, but it was the first place in town that ever caught my eye. As a sixteen-year-old fledgling in a grownup world at the time, it fit the bill. There was always a good meal waiting for me, and I never felt like I was eating alone. Danny must have taken pity on me in those early days. He never turned me away, even when a large group of people came in on a crowded night eyeing the booth occupied solely by me. They waited their turns like anybody else. But as soon as I was struck with the genius idea to suck it up and go to the D.M.V. for a license, Danny “upgraded” me from booth to bar without formality.
I was content sitting by the wall, hoping no one wanted to talk because I had nothing to offer in return, especially of late. But karma is a funny thing. A bitch, really. At the height of my most antisocial rut yet, I could have sworn the universe was giggling at my expense. Why? A simple glance to my right.
It really wasn’t my evening.
The same damn vampire who’d robbed the corner mart the weekend before happened to be talking to Danny. Looking. Right. At me.
I prayed Danny was on his game. He knew my presence was just for show, although investing in a ‘No Loitering’ sign would have closed the gap for speculation.
Danny was a good man in his mid-forties who knew how to work a bar. I guess from years of paying attention, and seeing people for who they are and how they want to be treated. He made a place for every type of customer, making each one feel at home, accounting for Two Cents being the oldest bar in the neighborhood: seventeen and counting. So many catered to popular crazes, then disappeared faster than it took the crazies to find the new “it”. Not Two Cents.
He must have been too busy to cater to little ole’ me, though. The vamp worked his way right through my safety net. What a sham
e. I secretly wished he had been ugly. Easier to reject him that way.
As he got closer, I could see his eyes were a striking hazel dowsed with golden and olive flecks, and the blond surfer look was in my top two. His hair was about three inches long and as controlled as a natural disaster. Waves intermingled with straight, both simultaneously fighting to flee the catastrophe. For some reason, it came across as more tousled than scruffy.
He wore tattered jeans, a semi-fitted white shirt that strained against all the right places along his slender muscles, and a pair of brown flip-flops that were new...maybe five years ago. If I’d been looking, he would have been the one to jump on. I mean, to find. But there was no point in wasting his time or, more importantly, mine. I knew how that story ended—me watching his ass disappear faster than the speed of sound when he found out who I really was and what being a Cypher truly means.
Apparently, he didn’t get the hint from my glare because he sat down next to me. I could tell by his smile that he thought he was something special. Confirming my suspicion, he said, “I sensed that you want me, so here I am.”
“What?” I choked on my tongue.
“Just kidding. He warned me you weren’t in a good mood.” He nodded toward Danny.
“Perpetually, but thanks for your concern. Bye-bye.”
“Wait, I just wanted to meet the woman who needed a caffeine fix bad enough to interrupt a robbery.”
I knew that would bite me in the ass.
This guy caught me on a bad day last weekend. On top of the shit storm that was my day, I had waited in line everywhere, and what should happen when I was right around the corner from my house? Numb-nuts here, at the head of the line, decided to rob the place. What can I say? My patience snapped. I started yelling, “What is this, the 7-Eleven or the seventh ring of Hell?” I pushed my way to the front of the line, which wasn’t difficult since patrons had started scattering from the store—some taking unpurchased items with them, I observed.
When I reached the counter, I stared the vamp down. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a hero waiting for that pertinent moment to save the world. I’ve just always had a very short temper when dealing with idiots. This particular idiot just looked at me kind of glassy-eyed. As I pushed his gun to the side, pointing it at the door instead of the counter, I couldn’t help but subtly point out the obvious. “You know what you are. Of all the things you could be doing, screwing my night over was number one on your list?”
I would never have called him a vampire in public. They only existed in films and literature as far as the poor kid on the other side of the counter was concerned. The knowledge of vampires is far from mainstream, unless you’re in the secret ‘Yea, I might die a freakishly horrible, bloodless death after all’ club. The pointy-toothed robber knew what I meant, though. Catching him by complete surprise, I saw that “how did she know?” look stall his face.
I’ve been able to tell a vampire from a human since my inauguration into the club, I guess. I don’t think it’s a particularly uncanny ability, though. It’s more about knowing the basics, like traits to look for. A normal person—someone who has no idea they walk among us—might look at a vampire and see a pale, exceptionally veiny person with slightly exaggerated canines. I see that, too, but I also notice the extra shimmer in their eyes as they size up the buffet of people around them, and the subtle growth of fangs once they choose their platters. Not unlike two-for-one night at the Golden Corral. I also notice the way they move like river water rippling over the rocks even as they try to abide by human gravity.
Maybe Danny and I had something in common after all. Like his years behind the bar, my time spent in the company of man-eaters has enabled me to know who and what I’m dealing with.
Anyway, after the vamp started blinking again, I had the attendant reluctantly ring up my soda. I started to hand the poor kid my change, but stopped. What would be the point, right? I shrugged, turned to this vamp, and dropped the money in his hand. “Have better timing next time. Like when I’m not here, dick!” Turning to the attendant, I added, “I hope this ends amiably for you.” Then I walked out and finally made it home. But I could have sworn I saw this vamp’s sly smile as I left the store. His ego over-shadowed the Statue of Liberty.
Now he was sitting next to me, feeling chatty. Honestly, I had started getting plagued by the feeling of loneliness lately. More so than usual. However, since getting close to anyone meant telling said person about my life, I remained as closed as a Ziploc bag. So I sat on the barstool staring at him staring at me.
When the silence threatened to continue, I blurted, “Well, you’ve met me. Feel free to sense that you’re unwanted.”
He leaned closer, invading my biggie-size circle of personal space. “Did they hold a beauty contest when they chose the North American Cypher?”
“Oh, you found me out,” I muttered, not caring to hide the sarcasm. “Broke my secret identity all to hell. Guess I should have left my pageant sash at home.” Leaning in, I added, “Like every vampire on this side of the continent doesn’t know who I am? If you’re trying to impress me, finding a brain before speaking again might help, nimrod.”
His chuckled like I had told a joke, killing the bite I was hoping to take out of his ego.
“It’s a little early in our relationship for pet names. Lucky for you, I’m into that.”
Why do people feel the need to talk to you just because you’re in public? I needed to stop his awful attempt at bonding, but all I managed was, “What the fu—” before he interrupted.
“Hey, I’m just trying to talk to you. Is that too bizarre to process?”
Actually, it felt nice. Which immediately led to an empty feeling in my gut. So instead of playing twenty questions to learn obscure yet endearing qualities about him that would inevitably land us naked together, I opted for, “I can see you’re one of those outgoing people. Bad luck for you, I’m not.” For the record, though, my heart chose ‘naked’. It was out-voted by my brain and the hole in my chest.
“I’m not a person, I’m a vampire. But you already knew that.”
Give me a break!
“Person, vampire, same thing. Only one sucks the life out of you with fangs and one with company. You must be a hybrid because I’m about to die, but you haven’t bitten me yet, just talking me to death. Slowly, I might add. Just get it over with.” Holding the collar of my heather gray T-shirt away from my neck may have been a bad move, but how could I really take the guy seriously? He robbed the corner mart of all things. I didn’t think he had it in him, but if he did I was the dumb ass for offering.
Sensing his proximity, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was savoring the aroma of my DNA. Or maybe he was asking himself if he had the balls to bite me in public.
Danny seemed unmoved. A tad amused, to be honest. He knew about the secret world of vampires. I had no idea how or when he got his first dose of reality, but I guess it would be impossible to run a bar in this town and not know. He also had a resident vamp on the payroll. Gotta give him credit for being progressive.
I trusted Danny’s instincts. He didn’t think I was in danger; therefore, I was probably safe, which left room to linger on other things like the vamp’s broad shoulders and light touch of aftershave reminiscent of fresh running water under the moonlight. A stream touched by a spring night, to be exact.
After allowing myself to fully indulge, I concluded he wasn’t bad. Not in the least. His features were smooth, but masculine—a boyish face with a kickass physique to counter it. His voice played between smooth and hoarse, like he had spent too much time at a concert. That voice had the power to turn a whisper into a lullaby. If a better mood had been on my horizon, I could have given him a run for his money. Then again, maybe he would have had me running.
The quirky vamp finally leaned back onto the stool and said, “Brazen little blonde, aren’t you?”
“You didn’t do it.” I tried to sound nonchalant.
“No, but you’ve tal
ked to me longer than anyone else by his count.” He nodded his head in Danny’s direction.
The air skipped out of the room and my heart stormed against its ribbed prison with three jarring whacks. My cheeks flushed with that feeling of being watched like an ugly bug in a distorted jar. It called up embarrassing moments, like the time that dear in algebra class pointed out that the shit smell enveloping the room was coming from my shoes. Or the day I was hoping to get this kid’s phone number before school started. I ran up to him and let out a fart that could have been used by national security before I could ask. Never talked to me again.
Nothing pissed me off more than being embarrassed in public.
“Well—” I smiled artificially, “—I’ll have to buy you a first place ribbon.” My words were heated through a clenched jaw. Is anyone ever truly interested? Guys just have to see who can catch the tough girl first. Degraded in my own little world. Wonderful. I was reduced to a conquest to a guy in a bar. A sports bar! My evening was complete. No Zen place for me.
I acted tough, but letting some two-bit vamp hurt my feelings hadn’t been on my ‘to-do’ list. After all, I was the Cypher, damn it, not a footrest for the undead.
Our bodies were in sync as I stood. Had he realized his insult? Didn’t matter. His chances with this girl just melted faster than an ice cube in the afternoon sun. And it’s always annoying when guys stand to follow you out after you’ve shown no interest and they’ve proceeded to mortify you, regardless.
I stopped, spun around, and placed my hand on his chest. “I owe you a ribbon, but I didn’t mean right now. I guess you have bragging rights, though.” My hand, I observed, landed right on his tight stomach.
He was taller by a few inches. On a good day I’m five-foot seven. On a day I don’t wear heels I’m five-four. I hadn’t taken the time at the corner mart to notice the difference. I should have, though, since he had been standing right next to me. Why was I even thinking about that? An observation. Nothing more.
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