by Katie Dunn
Pure Blood
The
Pure Blood
Series
Katie Dunn
Copyright
This publication is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, business establishments, or events is entirely coincidental.
Pure Blood
Copyright © 2015 by Katie Dunn
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the author.
Dedication
To my mom, who inspired me to read, my dad, who inspired me to write, and my brother, who inspires all the funny moments.
Table of Contents
Pure Blood
Copyright Page
Dedication
PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
Coming Soon…
About the Author
PROLOGUE
A HOUSE SAT ALONE on its quiet little street. Its nearest neighbor lived half a mile away, and the closest town was just beyond that. Trees surrounded most of the yard and gave an eerie feel during the night. Not only that, the woods provided a hiding place for unwanted creatures.
Inside the house an old man sat on the couch, watching TV. His wife stood in the kitchen, brewing their late-night coffee. Their Golden Retriever was on the floor beside the couch. He watched the door, waiting to stop any threat. He wouldn't let anyone hurt his human companions.
He heard a small repeated thump, and a strange vibe crept over him. Someone was there. But who? The vibe he received was different from that of a human or fellow canine. He had never felt this kind of vibe before.
He lifted his head and barked. The old man reached over and gently patted him on the top of his head. "What is it, Sunny?"
Sunny's golden coat is what had possessed the old man and his wife to name him Sunny. He had been with the couple for eleven years. At only three weeks old, he was an orphaned puppy. The couple took him in. He became their son, and they became his parents.
He barked again and darted toward the door. He could feel the intruder coming closer. Each step strengthened his judgment on attacking. This being was not normal. Not at all human. Not fully animal. What unearthly creature lies beyond this door, he wondered. What does it seek here?
A knock at the door that late at night brought an uneasy sensation throughout the house. "Who'd be at the door at this hour?" the old woman asked.
Her husband shrugged. "I have no idea," he said as he made his way to the door.
Sunny stood by the old man as he opened the door. He needed to protect his friend, and the feeling he was getting from this stranger wasn't comforting. Something bad was about to happen—but how?
"Can I help you?” the old man asked the stranger that stood at the door. The dim light from inside barely lightened his features. His dark hair appeared to be black. The green of his eyes matched that of an emerald. The complexion of his light skin was only slightly tanned. His shoulders were broad and his body was muscular. Arrogance radiated off him, and even in the August heat, his presence would send chills down your spine.
"Yes. My friends are hurt." The man's accent was Russian; his voice trembled. "Please, I need your help."
"What happened?" The old man asked.
"Our car crashed a mile up the road, and we have no cell phone to call for help. Please, help us," he begged.
The problem was, he didn't look like he had been in a car accident. He had no scrapes or bruises. He didn't seem to be suffering a concussion. And he didn't appear to be scared or traumatized either. He looked just fine.
But the old man waved it off. If someone really were hurt, he was going to help them. He stepped out onto the porch. "How bad are they hurt?"
Three more strangers appeared from the shadows. They sauntered over to the edge of the steps and joined their leader.
The old man noticed that they had no gaping wounds, and they were not bloody. They seemed all right. Because they were. He realized he had been deceived. "What's going on?"
The stranger's lips twisted into an evil-looking grin. "I was just trying to lure you outside."
"Why?"
The grin spread wider. "Because I can't kill you, if you are hiding inside."
The old man's eyes widened. He hastily stepped back toward the door. But he didn't make it inside, before the stranger's fist struck his head, instantly knocking him out.
Sunny began barking and growling. He lunged at the figure, but was quickly shoved back. After being knocked into the wall, Sunny got up and tried to focus on the figure. His growl was mean. This thing attacked his friend. He wouldn't let it do any further damage. These strangers were not going to stop him.
He charged again, and this time one of them charged at him. The only difference was, the figure turned into a wolf.
His limbs grew shorter and clawed. His face formed a long snout. His ears became pointed at the top of his head. He gained a furry tail and gray hair covered his body as it took a different shape.
Sunny watched in astonishment. This man's body had mutated into a wolf's. He had never seen anyone do that before. He didn't know something like that was even possible. But he automatically shook it off, as the wolf came closer.
The gray wolf clasped Sunny's throat in his jaws. Pain surged through him, as he let out a yelp. It was the worst pain he had ever felt. He thrashed around trying to get free, but it only made the pain worse.
He continued to flail about, hoping to get away. He reminded himself, that he had to protect the old man and his wife. He quickly forced himself back and escaped from the gray wolf's razor-sharp teeth. The pain was almost unbearable. A whimper caught in his throat.
He raced to the old man and tried to drag him inside the house, by the collar of his shirt. The first outsider grabbed the old man's leg and jerked him back. A round of tug-of-war took place. Every step Sunny managed toward the door, the stranger, who was much faster and infinitely stronger, jerked back and destroyed his progress.
Sunny's paws dragged along the wooden boards as the figure pulled the old man across the porch. He tried to slow them down by digging his nails into the boards. It didn't help. The attacker carried on unhindered with his original task.
Sunny held on to the old man desperately, although he didn't stand a chance against the figure's strength. He knew what his obligation was. He couldn't keep holding on to the old man, and so he reluctantly let go of him. He intended to make an attack, but the gray wolf growled at him, making him think twice about it.
The gray wolf inched closer. Sunny backed away from the vicious animal. He didn't want to be attacked again. His behind brushed the doorway. He was now trapped. His heart raced out of fear. He couldn't elude the gray wolf. Though to his surprise, the stranger who'd come first to the door let him live.
"Vasily," he said, shaking his head. The gray wolf, Vasily, stared at Sunny a moment before reluctantly backing away. Even the do
g realized how odd that was.
He didn't question it though, as the old woman's voice rang loud and clear from the woods near the house. "Sunny! Help me!" She must have been lured out the back door by the others, when the leader had Sunny and the old man distracted. Temporarily confused, Sunny stared in the direction from where the voice had come. He didn't waste any time. He took off toward the woods. To his amazement, the gray wolf let him.
He didn't bother to look over his shoulder and check to see if the strangers were after him. He just kept going.
Her voice came to him again when he reached the tree line. "Sunny? Where are you? Please, come help me!"
He plunged into the woods, following the sound of her voice. She continued to scream his name. "Help, Sunny! Help!"
Leaves crunched beneath his paws. Chillingly, that was now the only noise he heard. After a minute or so, he stopped. The woods were silent. Not a sound was to be heard. Not even the old woman's voice. He waited for her to speak his name, but she never did.
Leaves began to crunch once more. He held his gaze in the direction of the noise. That unfamiliar vibe rolled over him again. He stepped back. A canine's silhouette materialized in the distance. A silhouette that belonged to a wolf.
As this deranged wolf came closer, he recognized this one's coat was different from the one who had attacked him. This wolf had a white and gray coat, whereas the other wolf had a plain gray one. Yet, he gave off the same vibe. The wolf opened his mouth to bark or howl, but he didn't. He spoke in the old woman's voice. He mimicked her. "Help, Sunny!"
Sunny reeled in shock. How could this demonic creature speak in the old woman's voice? Has he even heard her voice? Probably not. It was just another one of their devilish tricks. Some sort of sick mind game.
Sunny hurriedly turned and ran. He could hear the wolf rushing after him. These things really did not give up. Sunny made his body sprint faster to heighten his chances of evading. His paws pounded hard against the cold ground.
His throat throbbed. Even the adrenaline couldn't mask the pain.
"Sunny!" The wolf's voice still mimicked the old woman's. "We can heal you. Let us help you."
Sunny knew better than to trust his enemies. The wolf people were cold-blooded killers. They would stop at nothing until they had his head. He had to keep going; he wouldn't give up.
Sunny refused to stop until he reached safety. Unfortunately, safety meant civilization, and civilization was a little over half of a mile away. If only he could make it that far. But what then? Would those malicious monsters just let him off, or would they kill him and anybody harboring him? That he did not know.
The leader of the group spoke to him this time. "It's not too late for you to save your family, Sunny. Come to us, and we'll let them go."
They were close. Too close. Sunny was heavily outnumbered, not to mention overpowered. That was not exactly a confidence builder.
Eventually, Sunny made it to the road. A ways down, a simple but somewhat nice-looking sign sat off to the side of the road: Welcome to Brighton, South Carolina. Sunny knew exactly where he was now. He had passed this sign over a hundred times.
Before heading off into town, he decided to take a quick breather. He knew that the wolf people were right behind him, but he had to walk down the road at a pace his legs and lungs could handle.
Although the sign wasn't that far away, it felt as if it took an hour to reach it. The adrenaline had vanished from his body, making his throat hurt even more. All he wanted was for the pain to go away.
A dark and cold feeling made him shiver. He dared to stop and look over his shoulder. The two wolves and the leader stood there, watching him. "Hello, Sunny," the leader said, casually. A bloodthirsty look was brewing in his eyes.
Sunny let out a vicious growl and backed up toward Brighton. Both of the wolves growled back, as they moved in on him. Sunny moved quicker and so did the wolves. He knew it was all over, when he bumped into something.
The second and third figures. Only now, the third had also transformed into a wolf.
Sunny stared at them with pleading eyes. Dogs had tricks, too. How effective was it? Well, with humans, very effective. With these two? Apparently not. The wolf showed no mercy to the poor dog. He lunged, going for Sunny's neck. Hitting a major artery, blood splattered onto the sign.
Little did the residents of Brighton know, that they had officially welcomed death.
ONE
I LIE IN BED waiting for the alarm to go off. I try to enjoy the last moments I have before I have to get out of bed. I'm not much of a morning person. I love to sleep. Sleep is calming and relaxing—unlike my current life.
The morning sunlight spills into my bedroom. The birds chirp in the August wind. I smile, listening to their little songs.
I turn my head and look over to my bedroom window. The grass of the fields and the trees of the woods are still green, the flowers still bloom, and the butterflies still flutter. In about two months, the grass will turn brown. The trees will become colorful. The butterflies will migrate, leaving Brighton until spring comes around.
My family and I live in Brighton, South Carolina. Brighton is a small town that the rest of South Carolina probably doesn't even acknowledge. We have one grocery store, a tiny post office, a two-pump gas station, and two schools—one Christian and one public. Brighton's population is less than five-hundred people.
Today is the first day of the school year. I can't wait to see my friends. I need to hang out with more people my own age. I don't get to spend a lot of time with them during the summer when I spend most of my time with my three younger brothers: Derek, Kendall, and Casey.
Derek is fifteen years old, and Kendall and Casey are seven-year-old fraternal twins. I am seventeen and also had a twin brother named Isaac. Sadly, Isaac passed away when we were eleven.
Derek, Kendall, and I share our mom's blonde hair, whereas Isaac and Casey have our dad's dark brown hair. We all share the same icy blue eyes and southern drawl.
I look down to the foot of my bed. There cuddled up to my feet, lies my German Shepherd, Troy. Troy has been a part of the family for four years—along with our other German Shepherd, Lenny. The shelter claimed that they were brothers, but I'm not completely convinced.
I reach down and scratch behind Troy's ears. "I have to go back to school today, Troy."
His blue eyes meet mine. I have repeatedly wondered about them. Most dogs don't have blue eyes—especially German Shepherds. Troy's supposed brother also has blue eyes. Their eyes are not the normal pale grayish-blue color. They are a beautiful, deep dark blue.
I wish my eyes were that pretty. Mine are ice blue with a touch of dark blue around the edges. It's bad that I think my dog's eyes are prettier than my own.
Troy whines and presses his head to my belly as if saying, "Please don't go, Britt."
My name is Brittany Thompson. Although I hate the name Brittany, so everyone calls me Britt.
I smile at Troy. "I know, boy. I know. I'm gonna miss you, too."
Troy closes his eyes and cuddles closer. I sigh. Today is gonna be a long day. The first day back always is. And like I said, I'm gonna miss Troy.
Troy perks his ears up as the alarm goes off, and I let out a groan. "Yep. Long day indeed." I turn the alarm off and reluctantly climb out of bed. I don't even bother going into the bathroom, until after I've had breakfast.
I slowly walk out of my room and down the hall with Troy right on my heels. I don't even have to make it to the stairs, before I can hear cartoon noises.
I head down the stairs, leaning on the rail to keep me upright. I'm truly not a morning person.
In the living room, my brothers sit in the floor eating their breakfast, while they watch cartoons. Lenny lies on the couch behind them. I smile and shake my head. The boys on the floor, the dog on the couch. It's pitiful in truth.
Troy jumps up and joins Lenny, but Lenny barely acknowledges him. Maybe it is possible that they are brothers. They do exhibit no
rmal sibling behaviors. Ignoring each other, aggravating each other, loving each other. I know each of those all too well from my own experience.
Paying no attention to my brothers, I make my way into the kitchen. As soon as I enter the room, my dad walks in through the back door. He must have just finished the morning barn chores. Our barn is filled with horses. We don't have them for show. We just keep them for riding. There's nothing better than riding a horse through the woods and across the property.
Most Brighton residents live within the city limits, but we live on the outskirts of town. Our land spans over eighty acres of open fields and runs deep into the woods. Perfect for horseback riding.
My dad begins fixing his coffee, and my mom waits for the waffles to pop out of the toaster. "How'd you sleep?" she asks.
Today is also the first day back for her too. She teaches Kendall and Casey's new class—the second grade. Derek and I miss being in her class. Not only because she's our mother but because she's a fair and adored teacher. Everyone at our school loves her for her nurturing smile and kind nature.
"Okay, I guess. You?" I ask.
The waffles pop out of the toaster, and she puts them on a plate for me. "Fine."
I take the plate from her. "Although, you look pretty tired," I say to my dad. I know exactly why he's tired.
My dad owns his own motorcycle shop. He's done it for years. Almost everyone looking to buy or have a motorcycle built comes to my dad. Liam Thompson is most definitely "the man with the plan." Except lately, he's had many more orders coming in and doesn't have very many employees.
"I guess it's time I hire a couple more people," he says, as he takes a sip of his coffee.
"You know, Daddy, I could come help you after school, if you want."
I used to help him at the shop when I was little. I'd come up with some ideas for the theme of the bikes. When Daddy taught me how, I'd help build them. I still help him out every now and then, but not as much as I used to. I actually kind of miss it.
Dad stares at me. His face is blank, while pondering. He sighs. "Okay. You can come in and help until I hire someone. Is that all right?"