Fatal Allure Collection

by Woods, Martha

  I take another swing at him, but he moves fast to the side. His legs sweep under me and I fall to the ground, but I automatically bring the blade up in front of me so he can’t dive down on top of me. I hope he tries, but he stops inches away from impaling himself.

  “Sneaky little bitch,” he mutters before grabbing my leg and swinging me like a doll across the apartment. I go from the entryway into one of the glass windows. I feel them crack behind me but thankfully not shatter. It feels like a slow fall down to the floor as I scramble for precious oxygen, but none of it is coming into my lungs. He’s on top of me now, from behind, his hand around my neck again. My chest hurts, and he’s beginning to turn my head in ways it shouldn’t turn.

  I don’t know why but my mind screams out to Vincent, begging him to come to help me. I hear him scream back, his desperation, but he can’t move. He can’t save me.

  I’m going to die.

  Chapter 5

  I hear the door fly open, I guess Charlie forgot to lock it behind me. He hesitates in breaking my neck, something I know he could do easily, to look up. At that moment, I watch an axe fly through the air. Cara screams again as the axe takes Charlie in the shoulder and he falls off of me, screaming. The blade has been anointed with holy water, and his skin begins to burn around it. He jumps off me to meet the new enemy, who I’m guessing is Damon, but I can’t see.

  “You,” Charlie hisses. Then he is no longer in front of me. I watch him grab Cara from the ground and jump over me, actually shattering the window. Cara doesn’t stop screaming, and I wonder if the neighbors can hear it. Her scream is getting under my skin – so desperate, so afraid. Shards of glass rain down on me and I cover my head as a single shard goes into my hand, but I clench my teeth. I feel Charlie moving further and further away. I’m not sure if he can fly, but I know the fall won’t hurt him. I try to remember the taste of his psychic scent. He might not kill Cara tonight, but she’ll die soon. I have to find her.

  An arm reaches down to grab my wrist and lift me up. It isn’t Damon I’m looking at but Tristian. Tristian and I don’t see eye to eye, in a metaphysical sense or a physical one. He’s missing one of his eyes, which is grossly scared over from an attack I’m sure he will never tell me about. He’s one of those overly muscular people with veins popping out. He’s tall, well over six feet, and everything about him screams intimidation. Tristian doesn’t like my involvement with Damon.

  “Always cleaning up messes where you’re involved,” he growls at me, letting go of my hand when I can stand up on my own two shaky feet. I slip the knife in my boot.

  “He got away. We have to go after him,” I say.

  “Yeah, he took one of my better axes with him too,” he says, peering out the window. “You’re going to owe me a new one.”

  “Why aren’t you going after him?” I almost shout. I want to.

  “Because we can’t catch up with him in time.”

  “He’s got my friend,” I say.

  “Then you should have fucking called us right away if you suspected your friend was banging a vampire, but no, like the idiot you are, you go in alone.” Tristian kicks at the glass littering Cara’s living room floor.

  He turns towards the door. “Now we’ve got to get out of here and let the cleanup crew in.”

  “Cleanup crew?”

  “You want the cops involved in this?” he asks, turning to glare at me with his one good eye.

  “No, but Cara is missing,” I argue.

  “And they’ll come searching for her real soon. If I was you, I would want all evidence of me being here washed away, or they’ll send you to jail.”

  “What?”

  “You can’t very well explain a man with super strength did all this. They won’t recognize the blood, of course, and the hand you cut off has already disintegrated. They might put you in the loony bin.”

  His words sink in. Hunters keep the vampire world a quiet little secret. It makes sense, seeing that it is near impossible to prove they exist. Vampires have probably been helping write literature on themselves for years so people would just believe they were myths. So far, I’ve also learned of shamans, werewolves, and witches. I really want to ask Damon what other supernatural creatures exist, but I am a little bit afraid of the answer.

  “Come on. You need to get back to Damon’s,” Tristian says, reaching over to my hand and jerking the glass shard out of it. Tears begin to well up in my eyes; I don’t want to cry in front of this man.

  “He’s got my best friend,” I say.

  “Then let this be a lesson to let the professionals deal with it. There is nothing we can do right now.” He pushes me towards the door.

  There are no neighbors outside, and I’m grateful for that. Tristian gives me a towel to wrap around myself to hide the blood. I wipe it off my face but know some of it has already dried there. I’m in desperate need of a shower. I take the elevator down and walk to my car as fast as I can. I feel the breakdown about to happen. I just fucked up bad, I should have told Damon earlier. Where is Damon? I have no cell phone to call him, but I know he will be home eventually. Charlie’s psychic scent has almost died. But I now know where Vincent is, not that it really helps me. I couldn’t handle one vampire on my own and my friend has been taken. How can I possibly help Vincent? I shiver, thinking about Cara out there with that monster. What am I going to tell Tommy? I guess nothing. He can’t reach me either.

  The drive home seems to take forever. My head is beginning to pound. The streetlights all look so bright. I can feel the drain on my body from using so much of my power. I’ve never done that before. It’s encouraging to know I can dig around in the undead’s heads to get the information I want. But it would be nicer to know where Charlie took Cara as well. I can feel the tears falling as I park the car; they’re just streaming down my face. I must look a mess. I exit my car and walk up the flights of stairs people barely use to Damon’s apartment. The door is locked. I knock on it, but no one responds. I have a key, I know I can go in, but I want the comfort of my own shower. I’m not strong enough right now to hear Damon’s words of disapproval. I don’t want to hear him tell me how much of an idiot I was, though I’m sure it would be more loving than Tristian.

  I unlock the door to my apartment and James’s ghost is right there in front of me.

  “Go the fuck away,” I scream, the tears falling heavier. He opens and closes his ghastly mouth at me before slowly vanishing. Wow. For some reason, I never thought of just ordering him away. Not that I figured he would stay gone for long.

  I make it to the shower and turn it on hot as I peel out of my clothes. I examine my hand; the glass didn’t go in too deep so I won’t need stitches for it. My neck and entire body are beginning to bruise. I see all the marks blossoming over my pale skin like daisies in spring. Everything feels so sore. I open the shower door and slip inside. The warm water on my skin feels like heaven. I watch the blood turn a pinkish color and begin to slide down the drain. It reminds me of the time in college when I dyed my hair red. I thought the pink water would never flow clear. I shampoo my hair twice before conditioning it. Bathing with the sponge hurts against the bruises, I can’t scrub too hard.

  * * *

  Fucking vampires. I should be thanking the lucky stars I am even alive.

  * * *

  Oh no, does this mean I owe Tristian something? He seems like the type of guy who keeps a tally of all the things he does for other people. The cleanup crew is having to be called, again, because of me. And they can’t just tidy Cara’s apartment. I wonder what they’re going to do about the shattered window but then remember it really isn’t any of my damn business. Let the hunters do their stupid job.

  I’m in the shower until the water starts turning cold and still don’t feel clean enough. I step out carefully and find some pajamas to put on. I’m so tired. I know I should go over to Damon’s and sleep at his place, but I’m done with hunters for today. I’m done with vampires. I would just rather be alone w
ith my thoughts, in my bed. I’ve had enough fights for the day.

  I go to the kitchen to take some Ibuprofen and drink a glass of water. I think about fixing a cup of tea per my usual bedtime routine, but I’m so tired. It’s early in the night for me – I usually go to bed close to sunrise – but I don’t care. Let the sun wake me, let me spend a full day in it and remember all the beautiful things that happen during the daylight hours. Maybe I will even go to a park. Then I remember my broken phone, my meeting with Faye, and the fact that tomorrow night I might have to try to get out of work early so I can track Charlie.

  I crawl into bed in a foul mood, making lists of all the things I need to get done. It feels strange not having a phone on me, not being able to reach anyone unless I want to log on to my computer. It’s strangely quiet. I let my eyes drift shut the moment my head hits the pillow. I dream about Vincent, his thirst, his pain, and I feel his desperation to have me with him.

  It is maybe two hours of rest before a cold hand brushing my cheek wakes me up with sharp nails almost scraping my cheek. It feels like death brushing against me, and I jump away from it. My mind is still foggy, Vincent is still screaming in my brain, but my hand goes towards where the gun is sitting on my nightstand. My wrist is caught in a vice grip, and the hand pulls me out of bed, so I dangle with my feet barely touching the floor. The strain in my arm, already in bad shape from Charlie, is made worse. I move to shout out but that cold hand clamps over my mouth as I’m put down on the floor. A feminine form presses against my back.

  “I was wondering when you would come back home,” purrs a voice that makes my blood run cold. The accent is hard for me to place – it isn’t American, but I’m not quite sure where in Europe it comes from. It is distinct, and I’ve heard it only once before and hoped to never hear it again.

  * * *

  Olivia, Vincent’s maker and a prominent figure for vampires in this town.

  * * *

  At least I gathered as much from visiting her home a month ago and witnessing what a vampire buffet looks like.

  “Now, are we going to scream? Because I do know how to rip out vocal chords and heal them back so I can do it again,” she continues, her free hand combing through my hair as if to sooth the fear inside of me. Shit. Never should have slept in my own bed, should have gotten those damn wards from Faye. I am not just in the habit of making smart decisions.

  I shake my head, and she slowly lets me go. I turn to face her, but it is dark in my room and can’t fully see her. Olivia flicks on the overhead light, and my head hurts briefly from the sudden assault of light.

  “Don’t be stupid and go for your gun either, we both know I’m much too fast to let you get off a shot. It would be a pity to break your fingers this early in the night,” Olivia says as she leans against my wall with her arms crossed over her chest.

  Olivia is gorgeous, one of those vampires where the paleness looks good on her because of her natural red hair that falls just below her shoulders. Her eyes look large in her pixie-like face, highlighted by just enough eyeliner to make a person drown in them. Her lips tonight are a bright red that contrast with the tight jeans and a black short-sleeved shirt that is cut low enough to show her ample cleavage. There are red pumps to match the lipstick. It’s freezing outside, but the cold weather does not really affect the undead.

  “What do you want?” I ask, trying to keep my tone even. I don’t want to show I’m angry; I don’t want to show I’m scared.

  “You don’t seem happy to see me,” Olivia says, putting her lower lip out in a pout. I’m not usually attracted to women, but it is hard not to find her alluring. The otherness to her makes me wonder how she is even able to walk out among humans.

  “I’m not a big fan of vampires sneaking into my room at night,” I reply.

  “You mean vampires other than Vincent,” she says.

  I flinch at his name, and she lets out a light laugh that makes my body to shiver.

  “Silly human girl, I know you have been contacting him and searching for him. You might not have been doing it on purpose but I can always feel when you’re there. I always try to really make him scream then.” Olivia flashes a smile with her fangs extended. My attraction level to her shrivels up. Right, scary vampire lady.

  I swallow, my mind racing. She’s the one who has Vincent. That explains the directions to her home that I managed to swipe from Charlie’s mind earlier. What good that will do me now that she is in my bedroom standing across from me, I don’t know.

  “Why are you torturing Vincent?” I ask, but a part of me already knows the answer.

  “We don’t kill our own kind; it is considered murder – similar to your human laws. The Sisters did not break any of our laws, and it is a great loss to the community, a great shame to myself, that Vincent is involved in it,” Olivia says, her eyes glowing with pride. Vincent is an enforcer, at least that is what he told me. He would go after the vampires who broke the secret vampire law. What is not illegal to vampires is keeping human slaves to be fed upon – willing or not – and killing a human as long as all evidence is buried deep in the ground.

  “I guess you don’t have a vampire jail to send him to,” I say awkwardly. I remember Vincent’s goodbye after he ripped the heart out of Claudine to save me. Apparently, I had inadvertently signed his death warrant. I try not to feel guilty. After all, I didn’t ask for Vincent’s help. He just followed me using his vampire senses. Vincent is sort of protective. A little bit creepy in the way he secretly followed my movements.

  “We do. It would be putting him in a coffin then burying him without food until he is barely conscious. If he survives the starvation, he will be a little different – vampires who go through that rarely live a decade after they’re set free. They can’t quite remember all our rules and get sloppy,” Olivia says. I’m not sure if I like hearing more vampire secrets.

  “Why are you telling me this?” And why am I still alive? I want to ask. After all, I am the one who ultimately led to the destruction of the Sisters. I snuck in there to free Damon.

  “Oh, I want to see you suffer. Vincent actually reacted tonight when you sent that little cry for help out to him,” she says.

  I try to keep my face blank – vampire blank. I don’t want Olivia to see how much she is getting under my skin. I do not want to be the reason for Vincent to suffer. I really shouldn’t care, but I do. If I had never met Vincent in the first place, possibly none of the horrible things that had happened in my life would have happened. Or maybe they would have. Maybe there is some destiny out there for me to be in the supernatural world, being a witch and all.

  “Look at you trying to keep it all in. You would make a decent vampire,” Olivia says as she pushes off the wall. She trails her nails over my shoulders as she circles me. I try to hold still. So still I’m not even breathing.

  “But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to offer you a bargain,” Olivia says.

  “What type of bargain?”

  “I want to use that little power of yours, that little ability to get into a vampire’s mind. I could just force you to use it with the promise of pain, but you strike me as the type who responds better to other people’s pain. It has come to my attention that I have a human girl you care much for and a vampire who you apparently care about as well. I have two bargaining chips, so I doubt you are going to refuse me.”

  Great, Olivia has Cara as well. I feel the invisible handcuffs clapping down around my wrists.

  “If I refuse, I guess everyone dies,” I say.

  “Oh yes, it will be a delicious blood bath,” Olivia says. “And if you fail, it will also be one.”

  Olivia presses a cold kiss on my cheek. She flicks her tongue over my ear, and I try not to flinch away.

  “And, sweet Amy, I do so hope you fail. I really, truly do,” Olivia whispers.

  Chapter 6

  I swallow hard. Somehow, I don’t think working for vampires is going to rate me high on the hunter list. I also get
the feeling that whatever task Olivia is putting me up to is going to be one that I can’t accomplish.

  “What do you need me to do?” I ask.

  “Get dressed in something a little nicer than what you’re wearing. I really can’t stand to have humans around me who look the way you do,” Olivia says as she ruffles up my hair.

  “You want me to start tonight?”

  “I will brief you on the way to my place. I also think you need to see what will happen if you fail. I want to make sure you put all your little witch effort into this.” She steps back, giving me room to move. “At least you smell nice. I like humans who shower.”

  Oh good, I get one little brownie point. I nod my head to Olivia and walk slowly around her, since she is standing right in front of me, penning me in between her and the bed. I glance at my gun, just a small movement of my eyes, and she suddenly has my cheeks in her grasp. Her nails dig in on either side of them as she turns her face to look at me.

  “Don’t even think about betraying me. My link to Vincent is all that keeps him alive now. You don’t want him dead, do you?”

  A part of me thinks Vincent ought to be dead already. It has been a straight month of torture for him. I am not even sure if he would be the same if I complete whatever task Olivia has in mind. She squeezes my cheeks tighter and I feel a little water begin to build in my eyes as I look at her. I try to nod my head but can’t, she’s holding it so stiffly.

  “I think we see eye to eye.” She pauses, then smirks. “I bet you’re pretty when you cry.” She lets go of me.

  I move quickly to my closet to find something that she would find appropriate to wear. I go with a pair of tight jeans, like hers, and my usual boots that go up to my knees. My knife is in my car still, and I regret not having it with me. I’m going to have to go into vampire territory unarmed. I find a tight blue shirt that shows off my own cleavage and pairs it with a push-up bra. Olivia occupies space in my bedroom, not really watching me. I want to see into her head but think better of it. There’s probably a nightmare scenario for me just waiting in there.