Rest in Pieces (Barbie: The Vampire Hunter Book 1)

by Lucinda Dark

  “Oh, honey.” Beth’s hands left the steering wheel and I didn’t move when she leaned over and wrapped me in an awkward hug. She buried her face against my shoulder and sniffled. “It’s going to be okay now, Barbie. Jon and I are here for you. No matter what.”

  Lifting a hand, I awkwardly patted her back, wishing I was anywhere else but there. In fact, I wished vampires could walk around in the daylight. I might have given anything to be attacked by one just then.

  I took a breath. “It’s over,” I heard myself say. “The past is the past.”

  And yeah, I’d been the one to set it aflame.

  Five

  Barbie

  Six months earlier...

  I crept up the sidewalk along the front of the tan bungalow my parents had owned since I was a child, waving as my neighbor's boyfriend pulled away from the curb. I was grateful to Hannah; without her, I'd never get to leave the house and go do normal teenage stuff, and her having a boyfriend with a car certainly made things easier—things like going to a party and meeting Travis.

  I sighed. Travis was hotter than any guy I'd seen on TV. He'd probably be right at home in a superhero movie. His shoulders were wide enough. I couldn't wait to get inside and reminisce about how wonderful tonight had been. Even if Travis hadn’t kissed me, I’d spent all night hanging out with him and his friend, Kent.

  "Hey."

  The jarring masculine voice startled me so badly as I strode up the front walkway towards my front door that my shoe caught on the edge of an uneven stone and I nearly went down. Righting myself at the last moment, I swallowed the scream that nearly erupted from my throat and whirled around. "Oh, my God!" I snapped, gasping as I pressed a hand to my chest before blinking into the darkness of night. "Travis?" Think about him and the man appeared. I gaped at him in bewilderment, but there he stood with one hand raised and the other tucked into the front pocket of his jeans. "What are you doing here?"

  He smirked, one corner of his mouth lifting and accentuating the hard firmness of his jaw as he dropped his arm. I bit my lip and straightened fully. God, I hoped he hadn’t seen me stumble like that, but knowing my luck he probably had. "I just wanted to make sure you got home alright,” he said.

  "You didn't have to do that." I grinned anyway. “I’m perfectly capable of getting home on my own.”

  He laughed lightly. "Oh, believe me, it wasn't completely altruistic," he replied, shaking his head as he moved closer. He looked down at me, eyes sharpening. They were the clearest blue I’d ever seen in my life. "One of the guys told me you lived next to Hannah; I got your address from her. I hope that’s okay. I never got your phone number."

  "I-I don't have a cell phone," I admitted, embarrassed. My parents would never let me and Brandon out after dark unless we snuck out, there was no way in hell they'd let us have cell phones.

  "That's too bad," he replied, “because I think you’d be a lot of fun to play with.”

  I blinked. Had his eyes changed colors? They were swirling, beautiful gemstones turning from the light sapphire that they usually were to an illuminating ruby. I was transfixed by them. I couldn't look away. The longer I stared at them, the more relaxed I felt. As if all my cares in the world were drifting away.

  "Why don't you invite me in?" he asked, reaching up to brush my hair back over my shoulder, exposing my throat to his view. His smile widened, his canine incisors peeking out over his bottom lip.

  "I—my parents don't let anyone come over after dark," I said absently. For the life of me, though, I couldn't remember why.

  "It'll be alright," he insisted. "I just want to meet them."

  They wouldn't want that. I understood that logically, but Travis' voice was so entrancing, it lulled me into a soft cushion of security. Why wouldn't my parents want to meet Travis? He was beautiful, kind, and he had come all this way just to make sure I was safe.

  I turned towards the front door, reaching for my keys and pulling them out of my dress pocket. I knew if my parents found out that I had snuck out to go to a party, they'd be furious. I'd be grounded for an eternity, but it was as though my movements were no longer my own. I slid the key into the lock and turned it. Lights flickered on inside.

  "They're awake," I said. I should've been concerned about their impending wrath, I should have been panicking, but I was completely calm. It was as if I was walking through a dense fog in my mind. My movements were slow and sluggish.

  Travis' hands touched my shoulders, clamping down hard until I knew from the pressure that it would bruise. And yet it didn’t hurt. In fact, I couldn’t feel anything anymore except the strange urge to do whatever he asked of me. His chest brushed my back as he leaned forward. His breath over the top of my ear. He never got the chance to say anything.

  The door jerked open, and I looked up in a daze. My mother stood there, her wide-eyed fury turning to terror at the sight of Travis standing at my back—his red eyes glowing in the darkness. "Invite me in," Travis whispered the order and in the next breath, despite my mother already reaching for me, shaking her head and mouthing ‘no’ before the word could escape her lips, I did.

  Travis’ fingers left my arms as I was dropped unceremoniously—shoved aside into the foyer of my own house. A dark shape whipped past me. My keys dangled in the lock, forgotten. My ears popped and sound rushed in, nearly making me cry out in pain. Cupping my hands over the sides of my head, I looked up and froze.

  "M-mom?"

  Her eyes were glassy, tears streaking her cheeks, as she whimpered under the ministrations of the man over her. Travis leaned down, his mouth sealed to her throat and beneath that, blood ran in rivulets over her chest, drenching the soft floral t-shirt she had worn to bed earlier that night. The stain spread even as the blood dripped down further, slipping from the skin of her neck to land against the pale cream carpet of the living room floor.

  “Vina?” I looked up as my Dad came down the stairs. He met my gaze. "Barbie, what are you doing…” His question drifted off as he turned his head and locked on Mom's trapped form. "Delvina!"

  I had never seen my dad move so quickly, not even in training. He bolted over the stairwell railing, landing in a crouch before Travis and my mom. I whimpered. The sound ricocheted through my skull, making the pain that much worse. Dad lashed out, striking at Travis, who dropped my mom and backed away with a wicked grin, his lips smeared with her blood.

  Brandon appeared at the top of the stairs in his pajamas wiping the sleep from his eyes and my dad barked at him. "Brandon, get Barbie out of here!" he snapped, diving out of the way as Travis picked up the coffee table with one hand and swung it.

  I gaped as Dad rounded, his fists drawn in. He took the stance of a warrior—long-honed in battle. I knew he was strong, talented—after all, he'd been the one to continually train Brandon and me, but never before had I seen him with the true intent to kill. My gaze flicked back to my mom. Her eyes had closed, and she’d gone unnaturally still. I took a step towards her. "Now!" Dad bellowed, jerking Brandon into action.

  Brandon rushed down the stairs, yanking me up from the floor as he tried to shove me out the front door.

  "But Mom," I said, pushing back, stumbling over my own two feet. “She's—”

  "No, we've got to—" Brandon jerked to a halt and then whirled me around, shoving me behind him, halfway back through the doorway. Though he was only a year older, he was a full head taller than me and he blocked whoever it was that had startled him. I leaned around his side and spotted one of the guys that had been hanging out with Travis at the party, the one I’d spent the last several hours talking to along with Travis.

  "Kent?" I stared at him as he offered me a wide, toothy grin. "What are you doing here?" I narrowed my eyes on his mouth. Something was wrong with his teeth. They looked sharper, his canines were extended just like Travis’.

  "Just helping a friend out with a little task," Kent replied.

  "Barbie..." Brandon took a step back, bumping into me doing the same.


  “Brandon?” I sucked in a breath. “What’s going on?”

  “You should invite me in, Barbie,” Kent suggested. And I don’t know why, but that suddenly seemed like a good idea. I nodded my head like a puppet dancing on a string—mechanically and absently.

  “No—” Brandon started.

  Kent switched to him and focused his attention on my brother. “Would you like to do it then?” Kent tilted his head and grinned a toothy smile. “I think you do.”

  “You … I … no! I don’t.” Brandon sounded as though he were fighting something unseen. But it was no use. Just as I had wanted to invite Kent inside the house the very moment he had made the suggestion, so, too, did Brandon and after several seconds of Kent’s invasive glare and Brandon’s wavering words, he finally caved, each word painstakingly dragged out of him. “Please … come … in.”

  Kent’s intensity lessened. “There now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked.

  My dad’s agonized scream ripped me from the mist of confusion that clouded my thoughts, and I whirled back towards the front door. “Run, little rabbits. Maybe you’ll actually get away,” Kent said with a laugh, but I ignored him—I had no clue what he meant, anyway—as I dashed back into the house. I stumbled over something and went down hard, my knees smacking the floor so hard that my teeth clanked together. I tasted copper in my mouth.

  Blood slicked across my palms as I slid into a puddle of blood on my hands and knees. My eyes lifted and caught. "Mom?" I reached up. Her throat was savaged, torn open. The blood loss had gotten worse. Her eyes were clouded over, no longer glassy but completely devoid of life. I could hear my breath in my own ears, pumping—overly loud. Was I really breathing that hard? Someone nearby laughed. The sound splintered in my head, coming from all sides and ricocheting back at me. I pressed my hands against her throat. I had to stop the bleeding. I had to or she’d die.

  "Barbie, get out of here!"

  I gasped as I was kicked back, my hands falling away from her. I landed on my side, tears ruining my vision as agony flared to life. My ribs … I pressed a wet hand to the sore area, leaving a bloody handprint against the fabric.

  Someone jerked me up by my hair and my hands went immediately to the offending limbs as they yanked out several strands. I tried to ease the ache, acquiescing to the pulling tugs of Kent as he dragged me to the center of the living room.

  “Bar … bie … run … you have to … run...”

  I followed Brandon’s voice and gasped at the sight. He was hunched over on his side, the burn of pain tight on his face as he tried to crawl towards me through the front door.

  “Do be a good fellow there, Kent,” Travis said with a dark chuckle. “Let our guest in and close the door. I wouldn’t want any of their neighbors to catch wind of this. We’ve only been authorized to have fun with the one family tonight.”

  Kent dropped me against the floor by the couch and headed back for Brandon. I watched as he kicked my brother onto his side and further into the foyer before closing the door and locking it for good measure.

  I panted against the pain in my side, flipping my attention to Travis. The moment I did, vomit rushed up my throat. I opened my mouth, but instead of regurgitated food, a scream ripped through the air. It was my scream. I was the one making all that noise. Travis winced and nearly dropped my dad.

  “Shut her up!” he yelled over me.

  Kent returned and grabbed me up, once more by my hair, before backhanding me so hard the skin of my cheek split. His eyes lit on the trickle of red liquid that escaped, sliding down to my chin. He licked his lips. My scream was abruptly cut off. I didn’t even have the energy to reach for my throbbing face.

  “Dad?” I cried. “Daddy?”

  Travis laughed again and shook my Dad back and forth. “Is this who you’re trying to talk to, Barbie?” he asked. “Shall I wake him up for you?” He slapped my dad once, twice, three times, but it did no good. I sobbed. His head was detached from his body. There was no waking him. I couldn’t suck in enough air. There was blood everywhere. It soaked into the carpet—stained the couch fabric.

  “Why?” My whisper was a barely audible croak as I wrapped my arms around my shoulders and cried.

  “Arrius really thought he needed more for the Steeles?” Travis sounded befuddled and rather irritated. “This was easier than any of the others.”

  “The others didn’t have brats,” Kent said, shaking me as if that would stop my tears. I’d stopped feeling the pain from his grip on my hair as I stared at my father’s unseeing eyes. “It’s like they haven’t even been trained.”

  Vampires … the blood. The beauty. The savagery. Everything clicked. All of the stories my parents had told me and Brandon. We never took them seriously. They weren’t real. They were nightmares. Phantoms in the dark. But here they were. Far more real than either of us had imagined. They had been let into our home—I had let them in—and they had defiled everything we’d ever loved.

  Beside my father’s discarded body lay his prized scimitar. The curve of the blade peeking out on the other side of his chest and abdomen. That must have been what Travis used to behead him. I wept harder. It was his favorite weapon. He’d kept it displayed above the fireplace at Travis’ back. Dad had only let me touch it once when he taught me what he deemed the most important lesson about wielding a weapon.

  Never pick up a weapon you have no intention of using, Barbie. If you fight, you fight to protect, you fight to kill, or you don’t fight at all.

  His words returned to me, mocking my weakness as I stared, emptied of everything but dark, bone-wearying agony, into the macabre sight of my once peaceful living room. The walls were coated in my parents’ blood—the blood of my family. My head wobbled back and forth and I realized it was because I was being shaken.

  I didn’t feel it at all.

  Kent’s face appeared before me and he scowled, flashing those white fangs of his. I couldn’t even work up the energy to blink. All of those times my parents had warned me about going out after dark. All of those hours at the shooting range. The sword training. The martial arts. It had made me fit. It had given me an outlet for my frustrations with my parents.

  They had never let us do anything we wanted. No parties. No friends. No school, even. Mom had promised that it was all overrated and that everything they did was to prepare and protect us. I had scoffed. Brandon had scoffed. Neither of us had believed a word they said. Every time they had told us no to things other people our age took for granted we had merely worked harder. Pushed all of our anger and frustrations into their stupid training—if only to keep from hating them—until our bodies were aching and sore.

  I wished I had taken them seriously. Why, oh why hadn’t I ever taken them seriously? This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t actually be happening.

  “She’s broken,” Kent said, tossing me aside.

  “Really?” Travis sounded put out. “That’s too bad. I wanted some fun with her before we ended things. At least we still have the boy.”

  “Barbie!” Brandon’s voice echoed in my head as I watched Travis toss aside my father’s head. It fell with a hard thud and rolled across the carpet until it smacked against my legs. My cheeks were soaked in salt and grief. “Barbie, you have to get out. Please!”

  Kent reached for Brandon and dragged him into my line of sight. “What should we start with?” he asked, excitement coloring his tone.

  “Hmmmm.” Travis easily pinned my struggling brother.

  Why is this happening? I thought to myself. Why me? Why us? Why was I letting it happen?

  “Barbie, get—ahhhh!” Brandon screamed as Travis took two of his fingers in his grip and bent them back until they cracked, leaving them set at an angle that was far from natural.

  My gaze locked on the scimitar. I focused on it, willing my legs to move.

  “Hungry?” Travis asked, looking to Kent.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” Kent struck, falling upon Brandon’s throat like a
beast of a lion upon a wounded gazelle.

  Travis laughed, standing up and giving his friend room before turning his full attention to me. “Please,” I whispered the plea through dry, cracked lips. “Stop this.”

  He tilted his head to the side and gestured for me to move closer. I shook my head and shrank back against the foot of the couch. Lifting a brow, he strode across the room and reached for me. I recoiled as his hands brushed against my skin. “Why don’t we watch?” he asked, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I turned my head away from him and away from the scene before me. “No, no, no, dear. I said watch.”

  Travis’ fingers locked onto my chin and forced my gaze to return to the sight before me. I whimpered. Brandon’s struggles against Kent lessened. He couldn’t even keep his eyes open anymore. They were mere slits, the light in them growing more and more dim as time crawled by. I thrust back against Travis, trying to throw him off of me, but he merely squeezed me tighter, pinning my arms to my sides until my chest felt like it might cave in, until I knew any tighter and he’d break my jaw.

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked.

  “Because”—I shuddered as his tongue licked up the side of my throat—“we’re vampires and because we can, little bird.”

  Because they could. The thought echoed in my skull. Because they were stronger. Because they had the power to. Because they were vampires. Because vampires did whatever they wanted. Because no one had stopped them. Someone needed to stop them.

  But there’s no one else here … only me…

  “This is so touching, isn’t it?” Travis let out a forced sniffle. “The family that hunts together, dies together and all that, right?”

  “I’ve never hunted before,” I said. My cheeks were stiff with the drying tears, but somehow, no more fell from my eyes. It was as if I had cried myself out. There was no more weeping, no more sobbing. I’d had enough. I had none left to give.

  “What’s that?” Travis bellowed a laugh. “Did you hear that, Kent? She said she’s never hunted before. That explains so much.” His hand fell away from my face. But there wasn’t much more to see. Brandon’s eyes were closed and his breaths had slowed to barely a trickle, his chest rising and falling impossibly slow. “Did they not tell you about vampires?” Travis asked.