Forlorn: A Young Adult Dark Urban Fantasy (Mythic Blood Series Book 1)

by JJ Krzemien

  After brushing my teeth and hair, I scooted under the heavy covers in my underwear.

  My last thought, before I drifted to sleep, was that I was sleeping in a house full of half-vampires, and I still didn’t know what they ate.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Christmas morning I woke in a tangle of blankets. Sleeping in a real bed again felt so good. Last night had been dreamless—and even better, no nightmares

  For about half an hour or so I simply lay in bed to enjoy the warmth, until the need to use the toilet became too great.

  Washing my hands in the sink, I evaluated my wings. About eight inches long and all white feathers; like dove’s wings. I could even flap them a bit. The soft feather tips tickled my skin. And they folded up neatly under my shirt, just like Oscar had promised.

  Dressed in T-shirt and jeans, I followed the smell of bacon down the hall to the kitchen. Hot breakfast—best thing in the world. I said my good-mornings and accepted a cup of coffee from George, who wore a pink and white striped apron. Rushi, in a matching apron, stood in front of the stove cooking bacon, pancakes, and fried eggs. Edgar and Xiang set the table in the dining room for five.

  “You eat normal food,” I observed, feeling relieved.

  Edgar took a seat at the head of the antique oak table. “Mostly.”

  That’s when I noticed the glass pitcher filled with red liquid. I recoiled, splashing scalding coffee down the front of my shirt. Xiang rushed to me with a napkin and was about to dab at my breasts when he seemed to reconsider, and handed it to me instead.

  “Sit down,” Rushi said, “breakfast is up.”

  “But—” I set the coffee cup down on the table. Then cleaned up as well as I could.

  Against my better judgment, I slid into a chair. It seemed like forever since I’d had a hot breakfast. My stomach wouldn’t let me decline the meal just because there was a pitcher of blood in the middle of the table.

  We ate in silence. I ignored the pitcher as best I could, until they started passing it around the table and filling their glasses.

  “Okay,” I said, dropping my fork. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Blood?” Rushi flipped her ponytail. “Yes.”

  “But—I thought—” I sputtered.

  “We don’t kill people for blood,” Edgar said. “We’re not like vampires. We have donors. Sometimes it’s animal instead of human.”

  Yeah, that didn’t make me feel a whole lot better. “But you drink blood.”

  Rushi licked her lips. “We’re half vampire, what do you expect?”

  I cringed. Okay, so they drank blood. None of them had ever tried to bite me and no one attacked me last night. I casually checked my wrists, then ran my fingers over my neck, just to make sure. This would take some getting used to, was all.

  Edgar caught my eye from down the table. “Lili, you’re fine.”

  I nodded and finished the pancakes on my plate.

  George cleaned up after breakfast while the rest of us continued having coffee at the table. My shirt was almost dry and had a huge brown stain on the front. I really wanted to change, but my other shirt was dirty.

  Rushi leaned over. “You want a clean shirt to wear?”

  “I’d love one.”

  In one second she was gone and in the next she reappeared holding a black T-shirt. I thanked her and went to the bathroom to change. Maybe she was kind of nice after all.

  When I returned to the table, Edgar said, “Let’s get to planning, shall we?”

  Rushi gave me a curt nod, ready to get started. “This is a rescue foremost,” she said, “As much as I’d like to slaughter them all. We need to focus on rescuing Oscar. Stealth. In and out. Should be simple. Unless there are other hybrids. We’ll take out as many of them as possible.”

  “They’re dealing with a garanth and a nephilim, of course there will be hybrids.” Edgar glanced at me. “I was thinking to use you as a distraction, since they’re expecting you anyway. I’d rather simply steal Oscar back right under their noses than get into too much of a fight.”

  “Whatever you need from me.” I wanted revenge, but right now Oscar’s safety was more important.

  “That’s settled then.” He flashed a grin.

  Rushi toyed with her purple ponytail. “I want the guns.”

  “Me, too,” said Xiang. “If we’re doing this crazy thing, I want guns, too.”

  Edgar regarded them both. “Okay. Handguns, nothing fancy.”

  “As long as they’ll kill humans, they’ll work.”

  “Wait, what do you kill vampires with?” I asked.

  Xiang leaned across the table. “Our teeth.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

  Edgar snorted.

  Turning to Rushi, I asked, “Why do you need guns?”

  She stared at me like I wasn’t all there in the head. “Um, to kill people. Which I hope we do. Sneaking in and out undetected is a fine plan, but if any human Amigis get in my way, I will gun them down.”

  “Oh, you can’t just use your abilities?” I asked.

  “And what? Bite everyone to death?” Rushi laughed. “What are you going to do, kill them with angel dust?”

  “Isn’t that a drug?” Xiang asked.

  Rushi tossed her head. “Whatever. You know what I mean.”

  “I’ve never fired a gun.” Guns made me nervous. I’d been shot too many times, I guess.

  “It’s easy,” Rushi said. “I’ll show you how.”

  I’d run out of protests. At least if I accidentally shot one of them they’d be able to heal quickly. “When are we going? I think earlier is better.”

  Edgar said. “I say we go early tomorrow morning. Or even tonight.”

  Rushi shook her head. “We want to make sure Oscar will be there. I say early in the morning.”

  “If we go early in the morning,” I said, “then maybe we can still meet the Tribe at the train station tomorrow night.”

  “That’s a possibility,” Edgar said.

  George spoke from the kitchen. “Why don’t we send someone to scope out the place today?”

  “I’ll go,” Xiang said. “Waiting around makes me crazy. I’d rather be out there doing something.”

  “No, I’ll go.” Rushi said.

  “No you won’t, little sis.” He poked her in the arm. She rolled her eyes. I couldn’t tell if he called her that because he was actually the older twin or because she was petite.

  Edgar spoke up. “Xiang will go. Being a sneaky bastard is probably the only skill he has, he could put it to good use from time to time.”

  I was surprised that Rushi didn’t put up more of a fight. Was Edgar their leader? He seemed to have the ultimate say on everything.

  Xiang jumped up. “I’ll go get ready. Call you when I know something.”

  “I’m going to dig our firearms out of that old safe.” Edgar rose from his seat. “We’ll meet back here this afternoon and finalize our timing and plans.”

  Rushi and I both nodded. I didn’t feel that I had enough knowledge of any of this to assert an opinion. Rushi on the other hand was no stranger to dangerous situations involving guns and kidnapping. I wanted to ask her about it, but she stood and went to George in the kitchen. A moment later they were making out in front of the refrigerator.

  While everyone was doing there thing, I went back to my room and spent what was left of Christmas morning sipping coffee alone. This household didn’t seem to celebrate the holiday. It felt so weird to be without family. It didn’t feel like Christmas at all. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying not to cry. My feelings of loss were just too much right now.

  Pulling on my boots, I grabbed my pack, deciding I needed to take a walk. A chill zinged up my neck. Last time I’d been out wandering, I’d happened upon Sarah. I clenched my jaw. Maybe the gunman would find me this time, in fact I dared him to show up so I could rip him to pieces. And what could he do to me? Shoot me again? He’d already killed everyone I loved.
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  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Early afternoon found me walking through the deserted streets. No businesses were open. Every once in a while a bus would go by with a few passengers. Even the cars were few and far between. The crunch of freshly fallen snow under my boots was the loudest sound in the city.

  Walking alone in an eerily quiet city turned out to be a great distraction. My introspection was replaced with a general sense of disquiet. Whether or not that was an improvement…who could say.

  My wandering had taken me south across Burnside and into the Park Blocks. Pigeons picked at food through the snow covered grass. Puffing up their feathers as if that would shield them against the cold. I pulled my hood up as new snow began to fall.

  My inner voice nagged at me that I shouldn’t be out here. Wandering the city was dangerous, especially for me. But I refused to live my life in fear. I kept repeating one fact to myself, hoping someday I’d believe it: I would always heal. Beat up, shot, probably even chopped into little bits—I would always heal. As long as no one cut off my head.

  Was that how the Amigis killed hybrids—decapitation? I shuddered. The snow fall turned heavier.

  When I was about to turn back to the dhampirs’ place, a muffled thumping sound caught my attention. It came from between two rundown apartment buildings. The locket at my throat vibrated. Warning noted. Still, an impulse made me step in that direction.

  As the alley came into view, I saw two street people harassing an old homeless man. He lay on the ground in a sleeping bag as one person kicked him and the other searched through his bags.

  I hollered at them. “Hey. Leave him alone.”

  The two glared at me. A man and a woman probably in their thirties, but their hard faces made them appear older. As if a silent cue had passed between them, they fanned out, each coming at me from a different side. It reminded me of that Velociraptor scene in Jurassic Park. They kind of moved like raptors, too.

  I extended my arms in a defensive gesture. “Don’t come any closer.”

  “Give me your bag,” the woman said.

  I shook my head. She took another step forward. The anger in my gut surged through me. I would not let them take my things and beat me. Images of the three guys mugging me flashed in my mind.

  “Stay back!”

  The man rushed me. I extended my hands at him, palms out. The anger exploded from my body, just like it had at the bookstore. The force hit him so hard that it knocked him to the ground. He writhed on his back trying to breathe.

  The woman doubled over, screaming.

  He was the one I’d been focused on, why was she screaming?

  The woman straightened and shrieked, “You bitch!”

  She swiped at my face with her nails. My fury doubled and I let it flow from me. She screamed and fell in the snow. The man clutched his sides and screamed with her.

  Another sound caught my attention. Deeper in the alley the old man’s face was stricken with pain.

  I took a deep breath in and let go of the anger. It dissipated and the sounds of torment stopped.

  The man was the first to stand up. The whites of his eyes showed as he stared at me. He scrambled over to the woman, grabbed her arm, and dragged her as he ran away.

  I watched them round the corner at the next block. I turned, and approached the old man in the alley. He covered his face with his hands and shook his head.

  “Are you okay?” I asked him.

  He continued to avoid looking at me. When he began to whimper, I left him alone. What had I done? I hadn’t meant to hurt him.

  Could angels defend themselves as well as heal quickly? My palms tingled. Why had the old man felt it the same way the other two had? A lack of focus or control on my part probably. I thought back to the poor bunny. Was that why Oscar had roared, because I’d been hurting him, too? And had the same thing happened with Edgar last night?

  Someone really needed to tell me what a nephilim’s powers were—soon. Half angels were certainly not all glowing light and grace. This was some serious stuff. The scariest part of all was that it felt so natural.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  On returning, I found Edgar alone on the couch. His wavy black hair falling into his eyes as he studied the handguns on the coffee table. The scene certainly completed his bad-boy look.

  Without glancing up, he said, “I wish you would stay indoors.”

  I sat in an armchair across from him. “I can’t sit around in the guest room all day waiting. That would drive me bonkers.”

  He fixed me with glowing, golden eyes. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you out there? Apparently not, or you wouldn’t have gone.” A hint of color rose up his neck.

  Taken aback by his intensity, I huffed. Why was he being such an a-hole?

  “Look,” I said, “you may be the boss of this group or whatever—”

  “Coven.”

  “—but you’re not the boss of me. You have no right to get mad at me for my decisions.”

  “I wouldn’t care if your decisions affected you alone.” He practically snarled. “But they don’t. To make this work, we need you to not get yourself captured. We need the Amigis to continue expecting you as planned. And we need you to not do anything else stupid between now and then.”

  My face grew hot. A flash of red exploded in my mind.

  Edgar’s face contorted in pain. He let out a low groan and gripped his sides. Squeezing his golden eyes shut, his mouth opened to cry out.

  I shot up from the seat and kneeled beside him. My anger dissipating. I wanted to touch him, but was afraid it would hurt him even more. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  What had I done? This was really getting out of control. I was hurting my friends now.

  Edgar startled me by taking my hand in his. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked to you that way. I need you to be more careful.”

  I let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for upsetting you and for hurting you.”

  He opened his eyes, green again. “How did you do that?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” I made to pull my hand out of his. He gave my fingers a squeeze then let go. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

  I sat on the couch next to him.

  He studied my face. “I’m not a nephilim. How could I tell you anything?”

  “Have you met any other half angels? Or heard rumors?” I clasped my hands in my lap.

  “I have. Nephilim, like angels, are complicated. Not the grace-filled and gentle beings they’re often portrayed as. Let’s see.” He sat for a moment in thought. “I met one once that had an extraordinary healing gift. She brought back a friend who’d literally lost his head. When she angered the ground would shake. Like an earthquake.”

  Relief washed over me. “So nephilim can be destructive, too.”

  “We’ve all heard of vengeful angels. Why not? You might want to work on controlling that temper of yours.”

  I ducked my head. “I’ll try. I feel so horrible.”

  Edgar tilted my chin up. “I’m fine now. And your temper saved us both last night.” He smiled. “Only, I’d appreciate never feeling that sort of pain again. No wonder that dragon-shifter fled.” He slipped his hand away.

  I nodded. Looking around for something else to talk about, my gaze settled on the guns. “You don’t hunt vampires with guns?”

  He let out a little laugh, seeming to relax a bit. “No. Guns wouldn’t do much to a vampire. Our usual weapons are swords, chains, and hooks. For humans—Amigis—guns are preferable.”

  “But it sounded like these were locked in a safe for a long time?” I leaned back into the plush cushion.

  “We don’t normally kill humans. We’re usually trying to protect them from vampires. The Amigis are the only exception, and we’ve been waiting for the right time to go after them. For a long time.”

  “If you’re so against the Amigis, why aren’t you with the Tribe? Why’re you rogues instead?” I asked.

  “G
ood question.” He ran a hand through his thick hair. “It comes down to some basic values. The Tribe values all life. If the Amigis weren’t trying to terminate all hybrids, the Tribe wouldn’t even be in this war. Some rogues think the Tribe’s weak and blame them for not trying harder to eradicate the Amigis. Our problem is that the Tribe values vampire life as equal with all others. We don’t.”

  The Tribe didn’t do a good job fighting the Amigis? Maybe the idea of relying on them for my revenge wasn’t going to work. Maybe I should find more rogues, rather than join the Tribe.

  “I’m glad you found me.” I chewed a cuticle. “And I’m glad for your help.”

  He searched my face. “I’m glad, too,” he murmured.

  The house was so quiet, I could hear the ticking of the clock in the dining room. Edgar and I were alone. Excitement and anxiety fluttered together in my stomach. Despite his bad-boy exterior, my intuition said that he’d never hurt me. Still, he was half vampire. I’d watched him drink blood this morning.

  Bad-boy exterior. How old was he? He appeared to be about seventeen or eighteen. Yet, if he’d been hunting vampires for what sounded like a long time, then he had to be older.

  I summoned up the nerve to ask. “How old are you?”

  He let out a short laugh. “That came out of nowhere. Why?”

  “Because you look about my age, but I don’t think that’s your true age.” I chewed a cuticle.

  “Does it matter?” He smirked.

  “Not really, I guess.” I shrugged.

  “If I asked you on a date, would it matter?” His expression turned serious.

  I stilled, letting my hand drop. “Are you asking me out?”

  “If we make it through tomorrow in one piece, I think a date would be nice,” he said. “Would my age matter?”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “It would matter a lot.”

  “Then maybe I shouldn’t tell you.” There was a little teasing in his voice.

  “That old, huh?”

  “Age is relative.” Edgar waved his hand in the air. “Before long you’ll be old too, but you’ll look just as hot as you do today.” His green eyes morphed to gold. Not an angry gold, more of a seductive gold.