Theodore started to back up, the whites of his eyes visible. Remembering the gun, he aimed it at me. Before his finger so much as caressed the trigger, the gun flew from his hand.
Horror bloomed on Theodore’s usually confident face as he looked at his empty hand. Apparently he hadn’t fully realized the extent of Andre’s power either. Theodore turned to run.
“No,” Andre ordered. The doors along the hallway slammed shut. Andre wrapped his hand around one of the banister rails and ripped it away from the staircase.
Theodore staggered. “No, not that.” He began to beg. “Please Andre, have mercy.”
Andre grabbed Theodore’s hair and pulled his head backward, exposing his neck.
“Please, please, please,” Theodore said, over and over again.
“There is no mercy for traitors.” Andre lifted the stake and, in one clean stroke, thrust it through Theodore’s heart. Above the roaring of the fire, I heard screams coming from outside.
My stomach roiled. Andre dropped Theodore’s body and walked back down the stairs. His rage had not subsided. With every step he took the fire expanded, until I was uncomfortably hot.
He approached me, and I tried to move away from him. Uncaring, he scooped me up, and I screamed as he jostled my shoulder. I was pressed against Andre’s bloody tux, soaked with my blood and now Theodore’s.
Andre didn’t so much as pause as we passed Caleb. We were leaving without him. “Wait, we have to get Caleb.” Andre ignored me. “Andre, did you hear me? Put me down.”
“No.” We crossed the mansion’s threshold then were outside. I breathed in the crisp evening air. People gathered in clusters, some whispering to each other as they watched us, others crying.
Here and there I noticed strange piles of singed clothing. And then an unsettling thought crept up on me. If Andre’s death would kill everyone he’d ever changed, could Theodore’s death kill the vampires he’d created too?
“Oh God …” But Andre must’ve known this. He must have known that killing Theodore would indirectly kill so many others. But if he knew … My stomach churned. If he knew, then his actions were horrific.
“Put me down!”
“No,” he said. His voice had lost its otherworldly anger. “You may hate me, but I will not let you go back inside.” Andre finally met my gaze, and he looked normal again. A droplet of blood snaked from his eye. It took me a moment to realize it was a tear. “I cannot let you die.”
He was not going to let me save my friend. He’d hold me back and let Caleb die—if he wasn’t dead already. I couldn’t let that happen.
For a second time that evening I coaxed the sinister siren to the surface. I opened myself up and let my power take over. My skin began to glow lightly.
Andre’s eyes widened when he realized what I was doing. But it was already too late. “Put me down.” Once again my voice was not my own.
Andre hesitated.
I brushed a piece of hair away from his face. “Put me down,” I repeated, my voice melodic. His jaw clenched and unclenched. Slowly, so slowly, he let me down. I could tell he was trying to fight it, but even he could be swayed.
As soon as my feet touched the ground, I began to run, keeping my injured arm close to my body. I didn’t know how much time I’d have before he regained full control of his actions.
My skin was still glowing, and I noticed individuals approaching me as the siren pulled them in.
Although only a minute had passed since I was last inside, the mansion was now largely consumed by flames. I hesitated only briefly before plunging in. Once inside, smoke obscured my vision, and my eyes teared up almost immediately. I made my way through the smoke to the chandelier. Next to it was my fallen friend.
Caleb lay so still that I was convinced he was dead. I knelt down and felt for a pulse. It was there, very weak but there nonetheless. I almost collapsed with relief.
I hooked my arms underneath his. A wave of nausea passed over me as I forced my injured shoulder to support Caleb’s weight. I took in a deep breath, steadied myself, and pulled him to his feet. Lifting him was effortless, but I screamed from the intense pain shooting through my arm as I moved it. He moaned, slowly coming to, and I almost cried out my relief.
“Gabrielle?” He began to cough.
“Hey sleepyhead, not the best place for a nap!” I had to yell to be heard above the fire.
He smiled then winced and rubbed his head.
“We need to get out of here!”
I let him lean on me as I walked us through the haze and back to the mansion’s main entrance. As soon as I could see it, however, I knew there was no way of getting out. The large oak doors were engulfed in flames, turning our escape into a wall of fire. My heart dropped. We were trapped in a burning house.
“We’re going to have to figure out another exit,” I said.
This was beginning to feel like déjà vu; I had lived through one fire already.
That’s it.
“Persecution tunnels,” I said.
“What?”
“Can you walk?” I asked him.
Slowly he nodded. “I think so.”
“Good. We need to head to the kitchen. There should be a tunnel beyond.”
I was desperately hoping that Bishopcourt was somewhat similar to my childhood home. If the pantry connected to the kitchen contained a wine cellar, then it would be the perfect place to put a persecution tunnel. If it didn’t … I refused to think about the alternative.
Something in the distance crashed, and I began to walk us towards the east wing.
Caleb paused to catch his breath, leading to another coughing fit. Meanwhile my eyes were tearing up from the heat. Time was quickly running out for the two of us.
The walls and ceiling of the hallway off of the main entrance were on fire, but luckily they were wide and high enough to pass through mostly unscathed. I sent up a silent prayer that the floor here was marble.
We were almost to the other end of the hall when I heard a wall behind us crash.
“Can you run?” I asked Caleb.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Hmmm.” Could I carry him and get us out in time?
“But I might be able to shapeshift.”
“Shapeshift?”
He let out a shaky cough, reminding me how injured he was. “Change into an animal. Something you could hold so I don’t slow you down.”
I nodded. “Let’s try that.” It was the best idea we had. If he changed, I could use my supernatural speed, increasing our chances of survival.
Caleb closed his eyes and exhaled. His skin rippled, and he began to shrink and thin. Scales formed, replacing skin. His body curved and coiled until he was nothing more than a garden snake sitting amongst his crumpled clothing.
I repressed a shudder. I’d never been a big fan of snakes, and up until now I’d never held one. I bent down and hurriedly picked Caleb up; the ground must be scalding. He slithered up my injured arm, and I bit back a scream as he coiled himself around it.
After he was securely wrapped around my arm, I dashed down the hallway and turned left. The fire had only tentatively made its way down this hall. The third door on the left was the kitchen, and I sprinted through.
Inside, the walls were beginning to smoke, and the exposed beams on the ceiling had caught fire. At the back of the room the door to the pantry was still untouched by the flames. Above me there was a groan, and a flaming beam fell between the pantry door and me.
I’d have to jump over the beam. I looked down at my long dress and heels. If I went through that pantry and there was no connected cellar, I might not be able to get us out of here. Why had I not chosen a window when I had the chance?
I ripped more than half my skirt off and wound the excess material around my free arm. I backed up and took a running jump over the beam, singeing myself as I leapt over it.
I got up on the other side and assessed the pantry door. Like all doors, it had a metal handle. Usi
ng the material wrapped around my arm as a buffer, I opened the door and dashed inside. At the back of the pantry there was a rectangle cut into the floor. A cellar door. I wanted to cry in relief. I hadn’t doomed us. Someone had propped it open, presumably to bring out wines stored below.
I descended the stairs and closed the hatch above us. Smoke trickled in through the door’s cracks at an alarming rate. We weren’t out of danger yet.
Shelves and shelves of wines covered the walls of the cavernous cellar. Andre’s anger had broken most of the bottles. I didn’t stop to ponder just how priceless each remaining one was. I began toppling shelves. Hundreds of broken and intact glass bottles shattered as the racks crashed to the floor. One down. Two down. Three down. I’d only cleared one of the four walls. And yet no persecution tunnel.
I began coughing, choking on the smoke that was rapidly filling up the cellar. I was running out of time and shelves. I pushed over another shelf on the adjacent wall. There was nothing but solid earth behind it. I screamed out in frustration. The cellar was too big; there wasn’t enough time to bring down all the wine racks that covered the walls.
I rubbed my temples. Think, think. But I couldn’t think; if I could, Caleb and I would have been outside long before now. I was running on adrenaline alone.
Breathing in and out, I steadied myself. I caught the faintest whiff of grass and felt the cool brush of an almost imperceptible breeze. My head snapped up. The breeze came from the wall opposite me.
Please let this be it. I walked over and began yanking down the shelves.
And there it was. Behind one of the shelves was a hollow space.
Stepping over the broken shelves, I led us down the pitch-black tunnel. Even with my good night vision I had to grope a bit to get my bearings.
It felt like an eternity before I reached the end of the tunnel. By the time I arrived, my arm was throbbing and Caleb’s hold was loosening. I felt along the damp walls, trying to find the door that led out. My hand bumped into a ladder.
Tentatively I tested it. When it didn’t collapse under my weight, I began climbing.
My head hit wood, and raising my good arm, I pushed against it. The damp wood groaned in protest, and I redoubled my effort. Above me I heard the sound of snapping roots as I displaced the plants that had grown above the hidden door. With a final push, the wooden door gave, and moonlight streamed down on me.
I climbed out and collapsed onto the ground, and Caleb uncoiled himself. His scales began to ripple, and slowly he morphed back into his natural form. Under normal circumstances I would’ve blushed when I realized I was looking at Caleb’s naked backside. But now, having nearly escaped death a few times, propriety was the last thing on my mind.
He dry heaved a few times before flopping down next to me. The door had led us out to the back of the property, so close to the ocean that I could smell the musty sea. In the distance we could see the fire department containing the fire. Luckily it hadn’t spread to the surrounding greenery.
“Thanks for saving my life,” Caleb said softly.
I looked at the stars, happy to be alive. “Thanks for coming tonight and helping me save mine.”
Epilogue
One Month Later
I TUGGED MY dark green dress down and looked at my date. Caleb and Rodrigo, the Brazilian werewolf Oliver had invited to the Autumn Ball, were discussing shapeshifting. When he noticed me staring, Caleb flashed me a secret smile, his blue eyes glittering with something more than friendship. I returned the smile. My stomach didn’t flutter like it probably should have, but at least Caleb was a safe, healthy choice as far as dates went.
I tried not to think about the man I wished were here instead. After trying and failing to convince myself for the last month that my feelings for Andre were gone, I’d settled on the truth: I loved him, but his actions during the night of the fire had terrified me. Despite being his soulmate—something I was having a hard time accepting—I wasn’t sure I could be with someone who’d knowingly damned dozens of his own people in order to save me. That sort of devotion was a little too intense—and volatile—for my taste.
It didn’t, however, mean that I could get over him. Nor did it stop me from staring at his number in my weaker moments, imagining what it would be like to bring things back to the way they were.
“Hey gorgeous,” Oliver came up behind me. “Isn’t Rodrigo delicious?” he asked. He saw my troubled face. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about him again?”
“Oliver! I—”
“I’m not asking you to defend yourself. Just make a decision and move on.”
“I have, only it’s a bit hard considering he’s my soulmate,” I snapped.
“Is everything okay?” Caleb had wandered over and was now looking between Oliver and me.
“Everything’s fine,” I said, smiling reassuringly.
“Good.” Caleb tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering, before he pulled me into a hug. Over his shoulder I saw Oliver shaking his head.
“Congratulations again—about joining the Politia,” Caleb whispered into my ear.
A member of the department had visited me while Caleb and I were still in the hospital and offered me a position on the secret supernatural force. Apparently they’d been scouting me for weeks, and my role in the deaths of dozens of vampires and the rescue of Caleb—who the Politia was grooming to become their star enforcer—had convinced them of my qualifications.
“Thanks,” I whispered back into his ear. He’d made it sound like an honor, but I’d only reluctantly accepted the offer, using the logic of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer. I didn’t trust the Politia. The supernatural community didn’t like vampires, and the Politia represented and enforced the community’s values. But perhaps getting to know me would change their minds.
I moved my lips away from Caleb’s ear and made the mistake of breathing in. The heady smell of his blood, pulsing just under the skin of his neck, caught me off guard, and I felt my canines extend. I pulled back quickly and turned away from him.
“I think I need some fresh air,” I said, my back to him.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yes, yes,” I mumbled, already moving away from him. “I’ll be right back.”
Thankfully he didn’t try to follow me as I left Peel’s ballroom and walked outside. The fierce wind grabbed at my hair and my gown, beckoning me towards the edge of the castle grounds. I leaned against the ancient stone wall, which ran the perimeter of the school. A hundred feet below, the surf crashed onto the rocks.
“It would be so easy to jump,” a voice beside me said. “A swift fall and a quick death. Hundreds of students have done it over the centuries.”
My head whipped to my side, but no one was there. I looked around me. Thirty feet away the man in a suit leaned against the castle wall, blending into the shadows.
I put a hand to my chest. I hadn’t seen him since the night he’d taken me.
“What, thought I was gone? Not after the night we spent together.” He winked at me. I felt sick to my stomach; I still didn’t know what had happened to me that night.
“I know who you are,” I said. That much Theodore had helped me with. The man in the suit wasn’t a figment of my imagination. No, it was much worse. He was the devil, Lucifer, the most beautiful angel who’d fallen from heaven.
“I guess the jig’s up.” He pouted. “And I was having so much fun convincing you that you were insane.”
My hands were shaking from his nearness, and I bit the inside of my cheek to hold back the scream that wanted to bubble to the surface. The delicate skin tore and I tasted blood.
“Having problems these days with your … cravings?” he asked.
“Of course not,” I said, my elongated canines contradicting me. Not to mention that I was no longer on speaking terms with my mentor, the one person who might be able to help me control my urges.
“You know, it seems interesting to me
that the Politia still haven’t found the hired hitmen who tried to kill you.”
“They’re working on it,” I said, doubt creeping into my voice. Somehow he knew my fears and exploited them.
“Of your attackers, I especially find the shapeshifter interesting. Did you know that’s a hereditary ability? Would be awfully problematic if your boyfriend’s father was the one who tried to murder you.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Oh right. That title belongs to Andre, the cold-blooded killer. Pass along my thanks. I had many new arrivals that night.”
“Just leave me the hell alone,” I said. I began walking back towards the ballroom.
“Never.” His voice was a whisper in my ear. “Enjoy your night. I’ll be watching you.”
To Be Continued …
Keep a lookout for the sequel:
The Coveted
Coming in 2014
LAURA THALASSA LIVES in Santa Barbara, California with her boyfriend, Daniel Ricchiazzi. The Unearthly is her debut novel. When not writing, you can find her at www.laurathalassa.blogspot.com
Acknowledgements
FIRST AND FOREMOST, this book would not have existed without the love and encouragement of Daniel Ricchiazzi. You inspired me to write, but more than that, you inspired me to be the greatest version of myself that I could. Thank you for all that you are; I love you immensely.
Alison Lanier, now it’s your turn to write a book! You were my first writing partner as well as best friend, and it’s you who nurtured my early love of writing and never laughed at my half-baked stories (well, at least not all that much). Most of the humor in this book has some root in our adventures together. Thank you for always being there, just a phone call away, and accepting me just the way I am.
Dad, since I was a kid you’ve been the biggest supporter of my writing. I’ll never forget the walks we’d go on, the topic of conversation somehow always coming back to writing. I’m so glad you relentlessly encouraged me.
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