Salvation's Kiss (Tales Of Mython Book 1)

by Kathryn Jayne

  The chips contained all of a person’s data, from blood type and inoculations, to location tracking and personal details. They were even used to provide secure access to accounts and emails, ensuring hacking data and identity theft became a thing of the past. There had been much protest at first, but now it had become a natural part of society, especially after being readily embraced by the students and trend setters due to the scan and pay functions reducing the need to carry currency, and the cross-compatibility meaning anything they needed was at their fingertips, as forgotten assignments saved on the home network could be accessed as easily as lecture schedules. All you needed to do was pick up and access any device. Ashley found herself unconsciously rubbing her wrist, where even now the faint scar from the implant she received at the time of adoption was visible.

  “How’s that even possible? Didn’t you say your dad thought they were hack-proof?”

  “That’s why he’s been working late. They are trying to ascertain what it would take for the tracker to be corrupted. That’s just between us though, okay?” she whispered, learning in towards them.

  “You know it,” Ashley and Jack agreed in unison.

  “Speaking of secrets,” Jack began, his gaze flicking to Ashley, “I hear our territory’s PB affliction rate is far below the prediction. Do you really think they don’t know what’s causing it? I mean, we can’t be the only ones who’ve figured it out, right?” Jack hooked a chair with his foot, pulling it out to join them sitting. “I understand why they can’t announce the reasons, it would cause unrest among the population, but I hear it’s got pretty bad in other places.”

  “They might not know,” Ashley intervened. “The Atelís don’t really cause much harm and, aside from some flu-like symptoms for the first week or so, they go on as normal. It’s when they’re awakened they’ll see a problem, and one thing our chips don’t do is update our blood status. They may genuinely believe it’s a virus. Besides, it’s not like I can just go to someone and say, ‘Hey did you know PB is actually caused by the vampires expanding their sleeper ranks?’ I have no way of explaining how I know. The factions could be unaware that it is even happening, and there’s no way to know if it is a rogue clan or a precision movement.”

  “But you can see it.”

  “I still can’t explain how, I just…” Ashley shuddered, her gaze panning across the cafeteria until her eyes rested on a blond-haired young man who was casting his lecherous gaze in their direction. “Want to place a bet?” Ashley asked—loud enough for those around to overhear—while rubbing her arms in an attempt to dispel the goose pimples which had chased across her flesh when her eyes had met with the distant figure’s.

  “Him?” Jack announced, nodding his head towards the place her eyes strayed to. With an exhausted sigh, she nodded, pushing herself to stand. “I’ve got a five if you’re successful,” he offered, producing the note.

  With a nod of acceptance, she smartened her appearance and sauntered, as best she could on weary limbs, towards the crowd. She hated this part, but it was necessary. She didn’t care what people said about her behind her back. None of them realised what it was like to be her. When she saw the young man again, his gaze followed her every move, his eyes raking her from hips to lips, pausing there as she drew her tongue seductively across them. As their eyes met he stood wordlessly, invading her space. With a glance back towards her friends, she noticed Will had joined them and was watching her intently with a dark expression. Turning her gaze away quickly, she grabbed the man’s collar, pulling him down to meet her lips in a sultry kiss that was met by the sound of wolf whistles from his friends. She felt heat ripple from her core, turning the cool metal of her necklace warm, as he became consumed by the kiss. Releasing him, she placed her hand on his chest, easing him away as the all too familiar look of confusion washed over his features. Before a word could be spoken, she had once more vanished into the cafeteria crowd and knew neither he, nor those in proximity to him, would recall what she looked like.

  Lowering herself back into her seat, she turned her gaze towards the soft glow of the lighting above, aware that the pale shade would highlight her washed-out pallor even more than it had before, when she had been merely tired. Jack, in a flamboyant gesture designed to attract the attention of those who had just witnessed her act, presented the note. She snatched it from him unceremoniously, tucking it in her pocket, knowing he would get it back later, and the near silence around them returned to normal volume.

  “Alright, you win again,” he acknowledged. Ashley flashed him a smile before resting her head on her arms as fatigue caught up with her. Jack glanced across towards the figure, no doubt recalling the time when her lips had met his in such a way. For some reason, he was the one person who remembered what she had done. Perhaps it was because they were already friends, but there were times when she believed it may be something more.

  “You finished for the day?” Will asked, when she hadn’t moved after a few moments.

  “No, we’ve still got Cryptobiology. Then I’ve a few hours before my next shift.”

  “When was your last day off?” Will questioned, nudging his plate of chips closer towards her. She felt the unmistakable caress of Tess’s touch on her back, and lifted her head, glancing at her watch. With a weary smile, her fingers sneaked out, grabbing one of the hot sticks of temptation from almost beneath her nose.

  “My birthday.” She flashed a quick smile at Will, helping herself to another chip. “You’re late today,” she began, only to be cut off by Tess’s concern.

  “That was eight months ago, you can’t keep this up, not with your—”

  “Anyway, we should probably head over,” Ashley interrupted, before words were spoken that could not be unheard. She loved her friends. She had known Ashley and Jack almost all of her adopted life. At some point during their senior year in high school, Will had inserted himself into their small group, but there were still things about her he did not know. Things the rest of them had sworn never to reveal.

  Will watched Ashley stand, his lips lifting as she threw him a wink and pinched another chip from his plate before walking away. He watched the subtle sway of her hips, noticing the way the small heels of her shoes scuffed the floor, suggesting she was more exhausted than she let on. He knew her tells, he had been watching her for years. Watching her whore her affections for lunch money, trade kisses for change. The worst part was that it was her own friends who encouraged it.

  When she had vanished from view, he glanced towards the young man she had kissed, recalling how she had parted the crowd to bring that man’s lips to her own, and once again he felt the pang of jealousy burning in his stomach. For years, he had tried to get her to notice him, to realise he would always be there when she needed someone. Just once, he wished she would notice him, that her fingers would weave their way through his hair as she pulled him close and finally saw all he was, and all he could be for her.

  He pushed the plate aside, his appetite ruined. Besides, he’d only bought them because it was the last Wednesday of the month, the one day he could guarantee she had scarcely eaten a morsel.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” Will felt himself flinch as the seat opposite him drew out, scraping the floor in a way that caused him to shudder as Devon turned it. The dark-haired figure of Devon Prescott cast a daunting shadow across the table as he pulled the plate towards him, devouring the remaining chips. “You got my money?” Looking up, his eyes met with the almost black irises of the man before him. His hand extended, his gaze piercing Will as he made the money gesture with his hand.

  “Yeah, I got your money,” he grumbled, producing a small wad of notes, tossing them on the table.

  “Good job,” the figure snarled. Standing, Devon snatched the payment, counting the notes before rubbing his hand through Will’s tousled hair, much as one would a toddler. Then again, to a vampire, that was possibly how he appeared. He touched the extended device, accepting payment and Will’s thumb print beside
his own to mark the transaction as complete. “Same time next month.” Devon gave something resembling a salute with the money in hand as he walked away, a wicked grin on his lips.

  As the tension drained, Will let his head fall against the table. He hated vampires. They thought themselves above everyone else. They had a secret monopoly on the town and no idea what a ‘mere mortal’ would have to do to come up with the protection money they demanded. He couldn’t afford for his gran to lose the store, it was her way of clinging on to the memory of his father. Yet she refused to pay anyone for protection.

  When she had taken over the curio business, everything seemed to go wrong at once. Windows were broken, stock would go missing, the furnace broke. The Blue Coats said it showed signs of sabotage, but were never able to uncover the perpetrators. Someone was playing with her, leaning on her grief in order to terrify and exploit her, but she refused to be intimidated. Even now, she believed standing her ground was why the torment stopped. She had no idea that, fearing for her safety, Will had approached Devon, and asked for his clan’s protection. It was no secret he made money on campus through less than savoury activities, and he was known to be in the service of Vincent Masters, one of the most influential clan leaders in Overton.

  Within a week, Devon reported they had found and dealt with the perpetrator, but part of him wondered if they had been responsible. He could never prove it, but knew that all small business owners paid tribute to one clan or another. The problem was, the payments were high—too high for a student secretly supporting a failing store. Lifting his jacket sleeve, he scratched tentatively around the angry-looking Y-shaped wounds tracking down his arm. Rubbing his fingers together, he felt the warm tingling of his healing energy before he focused it towards the inflamed areas, while glancing around to ensure no one was paying undue attention.

  Will’s family came from a long line of healers, but when his father didn’t possess the gift they assumed the talent had become extinguished. Will had kept it secret when the gift had manifested in himself, covertly charging for small healings to desperate parties. He knew better than to use his own name, especially when his main clients were seeking the removal of tell-tale signs of infidelity. His name and services were passed along through discreet whispers alone.

  These services, along with blood-letting at the local Taphouse, were the only way he could afford to pay to ensure his gran’s safety, but the payments were becoming draining and, if his luck didn’t change, next month he would fall short. His last blood-letting had flagged him as Tapped-out, meaning he would not be allowed to donate any more blood until his count had increased and, as it was the main source of his income, it left him in a dire situation.

  He passed a hand through his golden hair, his honey-coloured eyes seeking out someone who would pay for his skills. It was then he spotted her. The young woman wearing the blue scarf. The way her hand kept adjusting it sung of her secret, and if the sheepish look of the young man sitting opposite her was anything to go by, he was the one responsible. She wound her fingers in her boyfriend’s hand, shrinking away when he moved in for a kiss. Again adjusting the scarf. He was willing to bet it hid a mark, and their removal was a speciality of his. Logging onto the school profile, he accessed his secondary account, sending her a quick student message about the services he offered. The way she glanced around on reading it suggested her interest and, sure enough, seconds later the arrangements were made and she was excusing herself to go to the bathroom.

  Keeping his abilities a secret was difficult, although it was about to become easier. His last client had not been seeking his services, but when he laid eyes upon her battered figure as she nursed a drink in the coffee house, he knew he needed to help her. She wouldn’t speak of how she came to be injured, although, with two broken ribs, a fractured wrist, bruising up the length of her forearm, and a black eye, he had drawn his own conclusions.

  He had known she wouldn’t be able to pay for his services even before he reached out to touch her moth-eaten cardigan. As he stood to leave, sliding over a note with the address of a local coven who would take her in and help her, she grasped his hand, pressing a metal bracelet into it. He had accepted it gratefully, knowing it was likely the only thing of value she had, and to refuse it would be to insult her pride.

  He didn’t realise the true value of what she had given him. When he placed it on his wrist, its magic snaked through his body, seeking permission to connect with his own energy. Granting it, he found a mental image appearing in his mind, and realised she had given him a glamour charm, an item that allowed someone to change their appearance to whatever degree they desired. This enchantment had but a single memory, so he created his new self with care, relieved to find a way to be more open about his abilities without it being linked back to his family. He had his own future in mind, and reigniting the Huston healers was not on his agenda.

  Emily hurried down the deserted road. She was cold, wet, and work had been a nightmare, an endless string of calls and complaints that had only caused the migraine she had been nursing all day to worsen. She hadn’t felt quite right since she had visited the Taphouse last night. It had been a dare, a group of young women out for a little adventure and danger, while knowing they were perfectly safe. The fact they had been paid for their donations had been a bonus, as it allowed them to continue their night of drinking away the tension of the day.

  She had cried off tonight’s birthday party drinkathon. As the newest of the group, she was able to excuse herself with very little objection, especially since the pain in her head had been escalating throughout the day. At one point, the throbbing in her temples had been so bad she had almost requested to go home sick, but doing so would only have increased the burden on her office friends.

  All she wanted to do was get home and slip into the bath while her mum cooked her a light snack. Leaning against the wall, she massaged her temples, the deep, resounding beat of her heart almost akin to footsteps. Squeezing her eyes closed, she pinched the bridge of her nose, grateful for the wall’s support as her shoulder rested against it. The moment it passed, she would call her mum and see if she could pick her up.

  She was so focused on the pain, on remaining upright, she didn’t notice the dark figure emerging from the shadows. Turning, determined to press on, she tried to scream as a coarse hand reached out to grab her. The pain behind her eyes exploded as her legs gave beneath her. Before she could even fight, her awareness faded into darkness.

  Chapter 2

  Cryptobiology class had a scarce attendance on a Wednesday. Such was often the case, as many of the students optioning this as part of their studies found this was the only class of the day, and often just borrowed the dictations from someone in attendance. Many took this class to fill out a resume aimed towards research and development rather than a medical career.

  Everybody knew vampires made the best surgeons, due to their aptitude for the body’s systems, being able to anticipate the chance of bleeds and complications, and their speed. It was for this reason the profession was being dominated by them. Whereas shifters and their sensitive noses were able to find trace changes in body chemicals and the scents accompanying ailments, which made them perfect doctors, able to find illnesses in their patients often before symptoms were shown. That’s not to say non-preternaturals couldn’t make the grade, but the employment records favoured those able to execute their role to perfection, and it was no secret that most preternaturals had an extended life and thus amassed more knowledge and skills during the course of their service. Of course, many who would go on to this profession tended to be privately educated in leading-edge medical academies, meaning most academies, while offering the course, found its students took it out of necessity, since it was offered as an extra-credit course which was favoured alongside the R&D Degree.

  After an accident involving some over-enthusiastic chemistry students, the science wing had been closed, and the temporary classroom assignment saw them shifting from the f
rontward -facing science benches to standard desks. The seats and tables traced the room creating a U-shape, with the digital board on the remaining wall. This was a classroom geared more towards participation than study, but it had been the only one available for their continual use.

  Cryptobiology was taught by Adele. This sandy-haired woman was once rumoured to have worked in one of the leading scientific research facilities in all of Mython. Her hair was always tied back in a no-nonsense ponytail, complete with perfect ringlet at its tip, and whilst looking upon her conjured images of a strict school mistress, she was actually a rather soft-spoken, warm-hearted mentor to anyone who had the desire to learn.

  Adele currently possessed a distinctive gait due to the recent upgrade of her cybernetic leg. The clipping of her heels was audible down the tile-paved corridor, instilling a ready silence within the class. Cryptobiology was one of the more popular topics for students hoping to be adopted by one of the top research and development companies that could be found on the outskirts of Overton. Since the revelation that preternatural beings existed, the frontier of science had changed, becoming barely recognisable, and everyone wanted to possess the upper edge.

  When the first fragile alliances on Mython were being developed, the preternaturals sought to offer an olive branch in the form of new insights into science, medicine, even technology, and whilst a time of fear and panic had threatened to consume the nation, the latest upgraded technology was released and figure-headed by the Elder-bloodlines of the newly formed council, to show what magic and man could accomplish together. The older generation sought shelter, fearing their new position on the food chain, even after the conflicts had calmed and an order—which would grow and adapt to become the measures seen today—emerged. The youth, however, revelled in the inventions brought forth. The latest trends in technology became a buffer to fear as consumerism won over instinct, and from this, order emerged.