Crimson Bite (Hillcrest Supernaturals Book 1)

by Ben Alderson

I can’t help the twist of anger. I buried it for so long after he put an end to whatever we had between us. One day, we were fine, sneaking behind Savi’s back and sharing moments together. I never thought it would end. Even as I think about it now, I can remember the day when Chad was suddenly cold, distant. He disregarded me, never explaining why he didn’t want to see me again.

  “I deserved answers, but you never gave them to me. I tried many times to get through to the boy I knew, but I lost him… If you want to give me what I deserve, then give me an answer. What happened to us?”

  Chad pauses, looking at a space on the wall as he lets my question sink in.

  “I did it for you,” he says.

  “For me?” I ask.

  “Because I care about you.” Chad forces a smile that lasts only a moment.

  “Care about what exactly? Because from my point of view, what you did was entirely unfair. If this is your way of making yourself feel better, don’t bother telling me. I don’t want to hear it.”

  I put the damp cloth in my lap and squeeze, trying to calm my emotion. I’m annoyed and angry at his confession.

  “You may find it hard to understand, but it made sense in my head.” He taps his finger against his temple. “How long do you think we could have kept it up? Ignoring the fact that you kept a relationship with your best friend’s brother from her, we are completely different. I’m a vampire. You’re a witch. We aren’t meant to be in relationships together. Word would get out, and we would be shunned. I couldn’t put you through that…”

  “I told you, over and over, that I would go through that for you.”

  I can feel tears in my eyes, blurring my vision. I could tell myself the tears were from exhaustion or from thinking about Savi. But I’d be lying to myself. This is the first time I have seen and spoke to my Chad, the man I fell in love with over a year ago. He’s guarded his emotions and honesty for so long. But for once, his walls are crumbling, revealing the lover I once knew.

  A single drop of blood slips out the corner of Chad’s eye and runs down the side of his face, staining his pillow. I move, leaning over him and dabbing the blood droplet with the cloth.

  My face is close to his, enough for me to smell the copper of the blood mixed with the mint of his breath. I catch myself, fingers brushing across his cheek. His eyes flicker from my gaze to my cheeks to my mouth and back. The entire moment drags on.

  His arms snake out, wrapping around my back and pulling me close. He is gentle yet firm, the sign of a boy who knows what he wants. Slowly, he runs one hand up my back, sending shivers across my arms. He comes to a stop at my hair, fingers lacing through my brown locks. Then he leans up off the bed and presses his mouth on mine.

  The touch starts off gently, with the pressing of my lips against his. I suck in a breath, leaning every inch of my body against his. Nearly timeless, it lasts for a long while. When he pulls away, I try to go in for another kiss, but his crimson eyes look into mine. A deep desire lurks in those depths.

  I look at his wound, which is no more than a faded memory. His body has healed. Finally, I feel like I can touch him without causing pain. I rest my palms on his chest, just above where the scratch was, and hold his gaze.

  “Do you have it in you to forgive me?”

  I smile. “That depends.”

  “On?” he says, reaching up to kiss me again.

  I rest my mouth on his and whisper, “Show me how sorry you are, and I’ll think about accepting your apology.”

  “Deal.”

  We kiss again. Chad rolls me onto my back, scooping his hand in the curve of my spine and lays me down. He doesn’t complain of pain and discomfort. In this moment, locked together, I don’t think such feelings are even possible to register. All thoughts are lost as we explore each other. Occasionally, we pull back for breath, but not long before diving back into the sea of passion—passion that built over the past year. So many wasted moments are made up in this one kiss.

  But then my phone dings.

  We pull away from each other clumsily, and I reach for the phone, pulling it into my hands. The screen flashes, but it is not a text from Savi.

  “What is she saying?” Chad says, wiping the corners of his mouth with a thumb and finger.

  “It is not Savi,” I tell him. “It’s from my mother.”

  I read the short line over and over. I wonder if Chad can see the hairs on my arms stand on end or if he can hear the fear in my heart as it picks up in speed.

  “Are you okay?” Chad asks, studying my reaction. “What’s wrong?”

  I place the screen to my chest and force a smile. “Nothing important, but I do need to go.”

  Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I stand, regretting that I have to leave him. I don’t want to, but I must.

  My lips throb gently from our intense connection. I want to press my fingers to them, but I resist. Worried that Chad might see them shaking, I keep my arms at my sides.

  “Was the kiss that bad?” Chad asks.

  “Far from it. Something has come up at home, and I don’t want to have Mother thinking something is wrong by ignoring her.”

  “Will you come back after you have seen her?” Chad asks.

  “The moment I can come, I will.”

  Chad nods. “I’m not going anywhere until Savi comes home. If I hear from her, I will tell you. Please do the same with me.”

  He slumps back onto the bed and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

  “She’s fine. She’ll be home soon.” I sense her within the darkness like her life is a secret it is holding onto. Somehow, I just know she’s alive. “I’m going to come back with some of my scrying tools and my grimoire. We can find out where she is with it. Maybe she is hiding within Bane’s Forest at the cottage? It would be the safest place for her.”

  His lips pull tight. “Don’t leave me for too long. The silence will drive me crazy.”

  “I won’t.” I pull on my jacket and move for the bedroom door. “I promise.”

  “You always were good at keeping them,” Chad says.

  I smile, looking at him from the doorway. I grip onto the doorframe and squeeze, wanting so desperately to tell him what the message said, but I keep quiet.

  “Back soon,” I say. If I wait another moment, I might spill what I just read on my phone. But I can’t tell him. Not yet.

  He shouts something from him bedroom, but the loud banging of my feet down the stairs drowns out his words. I rush into the foyer, out the front door, and onto the street.

  Chad and I are only beginning a new relationship, and already, I’m lying to him. I’m not going home. I can’t. But I can’t stay with Chad either. I need Savi. She would know what to do, how to react to this message.

  I move down the street until I cannot see Savi’s home anymore. Pulling my phone back out of my pocket, I re-read the message again and again, punishing myself each time I absorb Mother’s words. I say it in my head, and then I say it aloud. Each time, her words get worse.

  Your father is proud.

  The words speed around in my mind.

  Father.

  He is dead.

  He died in my hands. Attempting to save him was my greatest failure.

  What could she mean? A strange sensation crawls across my skin, prompted by the turning of the dark coil within me.

  Your father is proud.

  Can I excuse this message as part of Mother’s unusual behavior? Has what little sanity she had left after Father’s death finally shattered? Is she broken after our last encounter? Did my actions tip her into the abyss of insanity?

  Proud.

  Father is proud.

  Throughout my childhood years, all I wanted was for him to be proud of me, but time after time, test after test, I failed him. And when he needed me most, I couldn’t perform. I couldn’t save him—and part of me didn’t want to. He always had been a monster.

  The weather chills with the greeting of dawn. The sky taints a mixture
of yellows and blues as the sun rises above Hillcrest. I stand in the middle of the empty street. Turning in circles, I face both ways—one points toward Bane’s Forest and the other toward home.

  But which do I take?

  You know where to go...

  I pinch my eyes, trying to block out the darkness’s whisperings.

  What are you? I ask.

  Proud. I am proud.

  Savi

  The slight knocking echoing through the room is driving me insane. I’ve been listening to it for hours—ever since I woke up in this room. I’m tied to a chair, hands behind my back. The rope binding me together scratches at my skin. Across the room, I see my jacket and mobile phone. Every few seconds, the screen lights up. I don’t have to see the messages to know they are from George and Chad. They’re probably furious that I’m not home yet. They have no idea how badly I wish I were home.

  With each passing moment, my anger grows. I have so many questions: where am I? Who brought me here? Did Chad and George make it home? Is Chad okay? My questions play on an endless loop in my mind. That, and the sound. I glance at the contraption. It’s small, the frame made of wood. Six metal balls dangle in the center. The two ends take turns smacking the center balls over and over again.

  If I don’t get out of here soon, I’m definitely going to kill someone again. And I promised George I wouldn’t do that anymore. If I go back now and confide that I’ve broken yet another promise to him, he will probably get upset.

  But all I can think about is ripping off someone’s head, because the pitter patter of the steel balls are making me lose my mind.

  A small window illuminates the dank room I’m in. The walls are stone and covered in grime. Even from where I sit, positioned directly in the center of the room, I can see their slick surfaces. I cringe at the thought of being in here. The musty air is all around me, and for once, I wish it were true that vampires didn’t need to breathe.

  My memory is foggy, but I distinctly remember the thin, black dart I withdrew from my arm. Who shot it at me? Even considering what I did to the wolves, this seems a bit dramatic.

  Directly in front of me is a mirror, and to the right of it, there is a door. Behind that wall, there are three beings. I hear each and every one of their steady heartbeats. I’ve no sense of time since I woke, so I don’t know how long I’ve been here. But I’ve been here long enough to know I have every intention of ripping out their hearts and eating them whole.

  It’s safe to say, I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m pissed off.

  I don’t try to break the rope tying my hands together. The last time I did, a jolt worked its way through my system. Whenever I try to free myself, this happens. They, my abductors hiding behind their mirrored threshold, trigger it, I’m sure of this.

  “Pathetic,” I mumble to myself, and a vicious jolt works its way through my system. I do not cry out, but I do clench my jaw shut and groan my way through the pain. “I certainly hope you plan to kill me, because it’s only a matter of time before I break through these ropes.” I stare directly at the mirror, making eye contact with each person watching me. I may not be able to see them, but I sense their essence.

  The window to my left is open to the outside world. Thick metal bars are supposed to keep me inside, but I’m sure I can pull them free. The only question is, can I fit through that small hole?

  Since George hasn’t come to rescue me yet, I assume this place is protected in some way from his magic, which means I must fight my way out by myself. I’m angry enough to happily take them down, but do I have the power? They aren’t exactly stupid.

  The soft thump of shoe against concrete vibrates off the walls of the small room. I can’t help but smile as they approach and enter the room. Just when I considered them to be smart, they show me their faces.

  Two of the three enter the room, slamming the door shut. The first stands beside the door, leaning against it with arms crossed. He frowns at me, narrowing his eyes and never looking away. Sadly, I must submit first by glancing away.

  The bolder of the two walks directly before me, sliding a chair against the concrete floor. The scratching noise is loud in the small space, and I feel myself wince. Internally, I chastise myself for showing weakness.

  The two men look identical, and I can only assume they are either twin brothers or closely related in some way. They’re tall, at least a foot taller than me. Their gray hair is cropped short, and their clothes resemble human military attire. Supernaturals keep their distance from humans, but I’ve seen their military in movies George made me watch long ago. Their skin is pale and wrinkled, their eyes so dark brown they look nearly black.

  “Tell me your name,” the man before me says as he sits on the chair he dragged over.

  I hold his gaze and say nothing. Does he really think he can break me? It takes a lot to kill a vampire, and being one that was born, not bitten, it will take even more effort to end my life. By the time he realizes that, I’ll have found a way to free myself. And then I’ll rip out his throat. The darkness within me smiles at the thought, and I have to wonder who put it in my head—it or me.

  Before I even have enough time to recite my full name, the human’s arm swings forward, boasting an impressive dagger, and comes down on my leg. The metal sinks into the flesh of my thigh, nicking my femoral artery. I shriek, his bold move both painful and shocking.

  “Let me guess,” I say, breathless. “Good cop, bad cop?” I eye my two attackers and contemplate which will be the first to die.

  I twist my hands behind my back, feeling the rope give way ever so slightly. If I bide my time and slowly break through the fibers holding me here, I can free myself without them ever noticing.

  A sharp jolt shutters through my body as I twist my wrists once again. “Fuck!”

  “Tell me your name!” the man shouts. I can sense his frustration with me, and we’ve only just begun. I don’t have the heart to tell him a career in torture may not be his wisest choice.

  The man reaches forward and twists the knife in my leg, nearly severing my artery. I can feel myself healing as every second passes, but I am quickly approaching desperation. I need to feed if I expect to smash my way through the windowed wall. Thankfully, these two idiots have locked themselves in this room with me as if they were meals-on-wheels.

  “What are you?” the man asks. He gnaws on his lower lip, waiting for my response.

  Seriously? You abducted me, and you don’t even know who you kidnapped? This is probably the worst abduction attempt ever made in the history of time. Not to mention, they should have done a little research first, because this rope won’t contain me for long.

  My stomach grumbles. The hunger slowly works its way into my mind, and soon, it’s all I can think about. I close my eyes and imagine sinking my fangs into this man’s neck. The darkness within me is giddy, hopeful I’ll soon strike.

  “You’re killing her,” the other man says.

  I open my eyes, and we lock gazes. Is he really concerned about my wellbeing, or does he take his good cop title too seriously?

  “We won’t get any information from her if she’s dead,” he adds.

  Never mind… He’s just become as much a part of my dinner as this other asshole.

  “She’s not afraid,” my abuser responds.

  He’s right. I’m not, but I should be. In truth, I cannot survive for much longer. But the darkness within me gives me strength, and it fuels the fury building in my gut. I’ve never felt such hate and anger before. I want to lash out at anything and everything around me. I want to fight, to kill. I want to appease the hunger that burns my throat and threatens to spill over.

  I want to kill.

  “Why?” good cop asks.

  “Because she’s something else.”

  I feel my fangs lengthening as my breathing slows. I focus on the puttering of their heartbeats and that of the third person just outside the walls of this room. By the time he reaches the door to save his friends, they�
��ll be dead.

  With one quick jerk, I break the rope. It falls to the ground in shreds, but I’m already standing. The knife that once called my inner muscles home is in my hand. I throw it at the door, purposely missing the man standing there. It lodges between the door and its frame, locking us in.

  Smiling, I listen to the taps of metal upon metal as I lunge toward the older human. The music within me springs to life, and I dance, swaying to the beat. I suppose the metal balls weren’t there to torture me after all. They were there to torture them.

  When I step back, I wipe away the drip of blood that curves down my lip and onto my jaw. I lick my lips and admire my work. The man is dead, his throat shredded, blood drained, and eyes wide with fear. Two heartbeats passed since the moment I freed myself, and I was too quick for his delayed human responses.

  I turn to face the other man, who now cowers and screams for his fallen brethren. I smile, distracted momentarily by the pounding against the door. Someone calls out, ordering the man to move away from the door. I blink in response, something tugging deep within me.

  Recognition.

  I know that voice. I’ve heard it somewhere before.

  I leap at the man, blocking his pathetic attempts at keeping me at bay. I have him by the throat, and as I angle his neck to feed, I hear the bones of his neck snap. Quickly, I drain him before the blood becomes old.

  He falls to the ground in a heap the moment I release him. As I lick my lips of his remains, the door to the room crashes from the frame and slams against the stone wall on the opposite side of the room.

  My final abductor enters, and I swallow the last mouthful of blood I’d been relishing. I’m at a standstill, staring into the eyes of the face I know.

  “You…” I whisper.

  But it cannot be. Never, in all of our encounters, did I suspect—

  He lunges toward me, and his fist makes contact with my jaw. The slight crunch of my bone is all I hear as I’m flung backward. I smash into the mirrored wall, the glass giving way to the force propelling me. I don’t stop flying through the air until another wall braces my fall. I slide down, shards of glass scraping against my exposed skin.