Asylum

by K. A. Tucker

  “This way. Quick,” I ordered.

  We followed the pull of the links for thirteen blocks, ending up in another alley, in front of a gray steel door, where the scent of blood infused the air. My tongue curled, the coppery taste filling my mouth. I turned to see five sets of eager eyes. “Whatever is behind this door could be hard to handle,” I warned.

  Fiona and Amelie clasped hands. “We’re ready this time,” Amelie said with stoic conviction.

  Caden reached out to grasp the handle. “It’s locked.” With a nod to me, he swung his long leg at the door. It caved in with a loud creak, the frame twisting so badly that the door simply fell over. We stepped down a set of stairs and into a dank concrete hallway. The weak fluorescent bulbs shook violently with each beat of the music pounding in the underground club ahead. They illuminated four large, mangled male bodies sprawled on the dirty concrete, their freshly spilled blood splattered along the walls like abstract art. Their size identified them as the bouncers. The mutants had carved through them effortlessly.

  “Keep moving!” I shouted, grabbing hold of Fiona and leading the way to a second set of doors at the end of the hall. I looked over my shoulder to find the rest following, struggling but somehow bypassing the bloodied bodies, Caden with steely eyes and a hand hooked around his sister’s arm.

  Swallowing the lump forming in my throat, I listened intently at the doors. I heard no screams, no moans, just hammering music. What would we find on the other side, a mass killing ground? These late-night parties held hundreds, if not thousands of young people. Thousands of fast-beating hearts pumping fresh, warm blood through millions of veins—could the mutants control themselves?

  I squeezed the metal door handle. The door popped open, the previously muffled music now exploding through the crack as I peered inside—at a sea of moving, gyrating bodies. I breathed a sigh of relief. No mass killing here. Yet. It was a late-night rave in the giant, low-ceilinged basement of a building, complete with a smoke machine, kaleidoscopic light show, and a dense crowd of wasted revelers. The perfect plucking ground for a hungry vampire.

  The six of us quickly slipped through the entrance. Bishop closed the door behind him, bending the door frame to jam it so no one could exit through that doorway and find the bouncers’ bodies. I spent a few moments scanning the crowd for our repulsive targets but soon realized it would be impossible to find them while standing here, even with our abilities.

  “We need to split up,” Caden yelled, echoing my thoughts.

  Mage gestured to Bishop and Fiona and pointed to the right. Caden and Amelie followed me as I headed along the left perimeter.

  “See? We are going clubbing after all!” Amelie chirped as we wove through the edge of the crowd. I couldn’t help but smile.

  The place reeked of sweat, booze, and vomit but no one seemed to care; all were too engrossed in bumping and turning into each other. As a human teenager growing up in nineteenth-century France, my nights had consisted of reading books by kerosene lamp and the occasional ball or late evening picnic—nothing like this. I’d quite happily kept Evangeline away from this scene, not wanting her exposed to deadly drugs. Ironic, really, given all the other deadly things she was now exposed to, thanks to me.

  A young girl of no more than seventeen, dressed in a tight, microscopic white dress, suddenly flew out of the crowd to throw her arms around Caden. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on!” she shouted, her voice slurred.

  Caden smiled politely while gently extricating himself from her arms. “I’m flattered, but I already have someone.”

  Unwilling to take no for an answer, the girl leapt at him. I think she tried to lay a kiss on his mouth but, in her drunken state, missed and buried her face in his shoulder instead. A tiny hand reached out and grabbed a handful of the girl’s long, straight brown hair. “He said he’s taken. Back off!” Amelie yelled. With a flick of her delicate wrist, she sent the girl flying backward into the crowd; she took several revelers down like dominoes as she plowed into them.

  “Come on!” I grabbed them both and pulled them ahead of me, hoping to get away before a fight broke out. Only ten feet away, we passed a group of young men leaning against the wall, and I sensed their despicable intentions as their eyes appraised Amelie and me. I recognized their type immediately—they would lure a woman into a quiet location to have their way with her. Normally, I’d respond by batting my eyes—I enjoyed baiting my meal. But not tonight. Tonight I needed to deal with five other vile creatures, and it wasn’t for pleasure. It was for survival.

  Amelie read their lewd intentions as well and, unfortunately, she wasn’t as focused. Lunging at one of the men, she easily pinned him up against the wall and bared her teeth in a snarl. Caden yanked her off before she could take a chunk out of the guy’s neck; before anyone could see her eyes morph.

  “Amelie!” I barked, pushing her forward. “We don’t have time for this! I’ll put you on a leash if you don’t behave.”

  “Sorry,” she muttered with a sheepish smile, her irises quickly reverting to their girlish green. We continued along the perimeter of the room, Caden now with one hand firmly locked on his feisty sister’s shoulder.

  My own eyes roamed the crowd, searching in vain for any sign of the mutants. Happily, there hadn’t been an attack yet. They were showing restraint. But I knew they were here. There was no way they could pass up a thriving scene like this.

  We passed a young blonde man and my eyes locked with his as he attempted a covert look-over while taking a drink. It was enough for me to catch the small mark on his hand—a deformed cross. The Sentinel were here, too. They must be watching us. Too coincidental to be otherwise. Great. Well, as long as they remained watchful and nothing more, we would have no trouble with them tonight. I continued shifting through the crowd, marking the Sentinel’s location for future reference.

  And then I spotted them—two people hunched over in the shadows of a dark corner, their black hoodies pulled up to conceal their faces. But their eyes couldn’t be hidden. Demonic white eyes peered out from the darkness, delightedly studying the crowds, scouting their next victims. Mutants. There were only two, though. Where were the other three? I grabbed Caden’s arm. “To your left. By the speakers.” Caden’s eyes quickly zoned in and his body jerked forward to attack. I squeezed his arm, stopping him. “If the others see us, they’ll escape. We need to find them all first.”

  “I’ll watch from here,” Amelie offered, her eyes shifting over to the group of lewd guys by the wall.

  “Amelie!” I warned sternly.

  “I know, don’t kill them,” she drawled, rolling her eyes like a petulant teenager.

  With that, Caden and I slid through the crowd toward the mutants, separating as we got closer and surveying the area around them for the others.

  I was perhaps twenty feet away when the first waves of magic hit me. Someone was casting a spell. I searched the crowd for the source, and immediately locked eyes with Mage as she pushed her way toward me. Her panicked expression told me she could feel it too. “We have to get out of here,” I mouthed to her. She jerked her chin toward the nearest exit. I nodded, and turned to locate Caden and Amelie.

  I came face to face with cloudy irises. A man stood two feet away, average-looking and on the smaller side, staring at me with empty, dead eyes—not dazed as if compelled; dead.

  I turned in a full circle, seeing the others closing in, encircling us—eight zombie-like men in total. I watched with odd fascination as three hands floated up to seize my shoulders and arm. The instant their fingers made contact, I felt it—magic, oozing out of them. No emotions. No intentions. Magic. They were under a witch spell. What kind, I had no idea. Something hypnotic and very powerful.

  I reached up and picked off one of the hands, quickly scanning it for markings before I dropped it. No Sentinel cross. These were just plain old humans under the spell of a witch, obviously intent on getting to me. It had to be Ursula.

  I
twisted and shook my body to toss the other two hands off me. I began moving forward, trying to push through the circle. The man directly in front of me reached toward the back pocket of his jeans. His hand returned, brandishing a knife. I couldn’t help it, I laughed. What did that idiot Ursula think a knife would do?

  I prepared for the zombie’s clumsy lunge, one I could easily outmaneuver. Only it didn’t come. Instead, he turned the blade toward his own wrist and slid it across his flesh. Just as Mage had done earlier. Blood immediately poured out—fresh human blood. Ursula’s trying to get me to attack, cause a scene, reveal myself for what I am. My control was too strong for that. But there were ten vampires in here who could not say the same.

  “No!” I screamed, sensing someone rushing in from my left—Amelie, unprepared for the sudden rush of fresh blood. Caden was immediately behind her, and gripped her in a headlock to restrain her. Her arms flailed wildly, her clawed hands scratching the air as she screamed in frustration.

  The crowd was moving back as people sensed the commotion, saw the man’s wrist, the blood. If we could just get out of here . . . The glint of a new blade caught the corner of my eye. I turned to see the other zombies brandishing knives as well. With quick, intentional movements, seven more wrists were opened. The overpowering scent of blood hit me like a blow to the face. And then a shrill scream cut through the deafening music.

  On the other side of the zombie circle, Bishop was holding back an equally ferocious Fiona. By the pained expression on his face, he was fighting his own urge. He wouldn’t be able to hold himself off much longer. We had to contain this mess now.

  And just like that, it was too late. Four mutants dove into the circle before me, the fresh blood luring them. They attacked the bleeding men like hungry wolves, tearing and slashing with their teeth and hands. Drunk and stoned patrons stampeded toward the various exits, crawling, pushing, and screaming the entire way. Most couldn’t know what was happening, what with the strobe lights still pulsating and the music still pounding, the effects challenging their eyes and ears. But their human instincts told them to run and so they ran. Pandemonium had officially broken out.

  Mage stepped in behind two of the mutants, too distracted by their victims to notice her. Her hands reached toward their backs, and their bodies arched, then toppled to the ground, leaving Mage with fists full of bloody hearts. Quick and definitive. Purposeful, that was Mage. Throwing the mutant hearts to the ground by my feet, she swiftly dispatched the other two mutants, equally engrossed and oblivious to what was happening. She tossed their hearts to join the others then, looking up at me, mouthed the order, “Burn it all.”

  So much for a covert operation. But it needed to be done. All of this evidence needed to disappear without delay. Pushing Caden and Amelie back, I pulled forward a few dozen helixes and wove a fire spell, one hot enough to incinerate bones. I blasted the pile of bodies—both mutant and zombie. In seconds, nothing but ash remained.

  A vast, empty basement now surrounded us, the music and lights still playing but no humans left. Caden and Bishop had their arms wrapped around the girls, who had calmed considerably. Everyone observed the bonfire with faces filled with quiet worry.

  The music suddenly cut off, and I turned to see Mage stepping away from the speakers, still gripping torn power cords. “Jonah wasn’t here,” she announced. One mutant was still loose. Better than four, but still. He was free to roam New York City, to be noticed. “Did you see the witch?” Mage asked me. “I couldn’t find her anywhere.”

  I shook my head. I had assumed it was Ursula before, but something about this told me it was bigger than a jealous witch out to get me. Whoever it was, they were clearly intent on revealing vampires to the world. “It’s time we got back home,” I said. Home. What a strange term for our Fifth Avenue vampire asylum. But it was the safest place for us to be right now. We needed to strategize. We needed an escape plan. And it was time everyone learned the truth about Ratheus.

  6. Werewolves and the Possessed

  “Are you trying to melt the snow with your super-powered stare?” Julian asked in a bored tone, his chin resting on his palm while he studied the game board on the small table between us. His other hand rolled a chess piece back and forth between its fingers.

  “If I am, I suck at it,” I grumbled. The snow may actually have gotten deeper in the five hours since I’d sat down in this chair, even with the hot sun beaming down on it. It felt sauna-hot when it streamed in through the bay window of the great room, but out in the midst of the mountains in the dead of winter, it was still probably deathly cold. I didn’t know for sure, though. I hadn’t stepped outside in . . . forever, it seemed. “It’s Monday, right? Oh, wait—no. It’s . . . Tuesday?” I could feel my brows pulling together in frustration as I realized I didn’t even know what day it was anymore.

  “Tuesday, I think,” Julian murmured absently, his focus on his next move.

  Saturday, Max called from his resting place in a sun spot beside the table.

  “Saturday?” I echoed, feeling my eyes bug out as I did the math. That meant a month had passed since Sofie exiled us here. A month with no communication with the outer world, whether through normal human means or otherwise. A month of wondering if my vampires still lived. I assumed they did, but I couldn’t shake that ominous feeling in the back of my mind that they were doomed, a belief that made me want to curl up in a cocoon and hibernate for the next several years.

  That belief had also turned me into a wretched cabin mate. I didn’t realize it until I hit rock bottom two weeks ago. Each night, Julian and I took turns picking out the movies to watch and it had been my night to pick. When I rhymed off Old Yeller, The Perfect Storm, and Steel Magnolias, Julian finally lost it. He grabbed the hard drive and flung it across the room, then threatened to provoke Max into killing him because he couldn’t stand being trapped in this wooden hut with “Sulky Evie” for one more day.

  Of course Max was on his feet and ready to oblige Julian just for the fact that he had raised his voice to me, but I quickly stopped the beast, realizing that I had become that whiny, miserable girl that I loathed. The girl whom I somehow had avoided becoming after my mother’s death, when I barely existed because everyone had been compelled to ignore me. Even after I found out about the curse, my optimism held. But here, exiled in the mountains and worrying about Caden and my friends, I had finally broken. Now someone would rather die than be near me.

  After that night, I tucked the pictures I had so desperately clung to into my nightstand, only to be pulled out for emergencies. I made a conscious effort to force all thoughts of Ratheus and vampires out of my head—I tried, anyway. It was impossible. Jade eyes and springy blonde curls crept into my thoughts with every silent moment, and there were a lot of those, in exile.

  “I’m going to go nuts,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else. Rubbing my eyes, I turned away from the blinding glare of the sun reflecting off the snow to look at Julian.

  Brown eyes glanced up at me before dropping back to the game board. “You and me both,” he mumbled as he moved a piece—I wasn’t paying attention to which one. “Your turn.”

  In the month since Leo brought the disagreeable Forero son back from death, he and I had become what some might call best friends, whether we liked it or not. We ate our meals together, we watched movies together, we swapped books when the other was finished. We did everything together that didn’t require privacy. Sometimes we didn’t even bother “retiring” to our rooms, as Leo called it, but instead slept buried under blankets on either end of the sectional couch, finding comfort in each other’s presence. Those were the nights when the feelings of isolation were especially strong. I guess I didn’t feel quite as alone with Julian around. Sure, I was never really alone with a three hundred pound werebeast glued to my heels, ready to protect and serve, but having Julian around was different. There was a soothing aspect to it. That was the word to describe being around Julian: soothing.

  Eve
ry once in a while, I’d find myself studying Julian’s face—usually while he dozed on the couch—wondering if I’d be this comfortable with him in different circumstances. If I’d talk so casually, laugh so freely, if I were sitting across from that face back in the real world, where we weren’t orphans and exiled by vampires; where I wasn’t pining over a jade-eyed Caden. With those full lips, olive skin, and chocolate-colored eyes, Julian was one of those guys a girl like me would probably fall hard for. But I hadn’t, thankfully. It would just complicate an already thorny situation, especially since it’d be one-sided. You’re not my type, he had said. That was for the best. Right now, I just needed a good human friend.

  And so my new bestie and I sat in this chalet, day in and day out, looking for ways to occupy ourselves. The task was becoming more challenging with each sunrise. Our latest activity was chess. Julian had discovered a game board in one of the storage closets two days ago, and offered to teach me how to play. It quickly became obvious that chess wasn’t my game.

  “Can I move the horse over here?” I asked.

  “The knight?” he corrected me. “Yes, you can move him there . . . if you want to lose this game.”

  My hand jumped away from the piece with his warning. I spent the next few minutes reevaluating my options while Julian took a turn staring vacantly out the window, deep in thought. “I wonder what summer’s going to be like here,” he murmured.

  “Pretty. Long.” It was my turn to sound bored.

  “And then another winter,” Julian continued, his tone flat.

  “And don’t forget spring and fall in between.”

  I glanced up to find him looking at me, defeat in his eyes. “Long,” he agreed.

  I lifted my finger to my temple and made a circular motion. “I’m warning you . . . cuckoo!”

  Julian gave me a crooked smile. “Take bets on who loses it first, you or me?”