by Elle Jasper
Even though the October night air is cool, we keep the Jeep’s top off for easy access in and out of it. Besides, Riggs and I both handle temperatures a lot differently now, so it has to be really cold for us to be bothered, or really hot. This night, my long-sleeved shirt is all I need. The temp is about sixty-two degrees.
Eli downshifts as we hit the squares, the night air cool as it brushes my cheeks. I close my eyes against the wind and inhale the brine of the salt marsh. Unfortunately, the closer we get to Garden City, which is just outside of Savannah, the brine turns into a stinky sulfur smell. Paper mill. It’s enough to make you gag sometimes. Thankfully this night, it’s not too bad.
Eli’s hand slips over my thigh and rests there as we drive, and the sounds of the night, the wind, lure me into a calm rest. I’m not asleep; I still hear Riggs’s iPod blasting in his ear. But I’m lulled. Yeah, that’s what I am.
A flash of light illuminates a face hidden in a dark hoodie. Jaw unhinged. Fangs dropped. Eyes white, pupil pinpoint red. He lunges at me—but the face isn’t a newling. It’s me. I scream—
“Riley?” Eli says, his hand wrapped around my arm, shaking me. “Wake up, we’re here.”
My eyes flutter open, and the moment they focus on Eli, he shifts, his jaw unhinges, his fangs drop, and he lunges for me.
Part Three
MALEVOLENCE
This is all new to me. I mean, I know it’s not old shoe to Ri and Seth, but they’ve been involved a lot longer than I have. They’ve had time to adjust. They have powers. Almost like…they’re not all the way human anymore. I am. One hundred percent. Which means vulnerability to the nth degree, and it scares me. I’m scared of losing Ri and Seth, and I’m scared of…monsters. Of what they’ll do to me. Luc promises to keep me safe, and I believe him. But who’s going to keep Riley safe? She’s not herself lately. Not at all. She’s…mean-spirited. And there’s a look in her eye that seems, I don’t know, predatory to me. I don’t understand what’s going on with her, but I hope to God this is all over with soon. I know our lives will never return to normal, but as close to normal as possible is okay by me.
—Nyxinnia Foster
“Riley?”
I blink, and Eli’s face returns to normal. “Yeah?”
He studies me longer. Scrutinizing. “We’re here.”
The night air surrounds us, a blanket of darkness void of streetlights. I blink. We’re at the Amtrak station just off of 516. These hallucinations are beginning to be a pain in my friggin’ ass. “Okay, let’s do it.” I unbuckle and swing out of the Jeep. Riggs is already standing at the hood.
He draws a deep breath, then jumps onto the hood. He glances first at Eli, then me. “I can smell ’em.”
“Well let’s go then,” I say with way more enthusiasm than I really feel. I’m getting used to hiding my true feelings again now that Eli can’t read my thoughts. Dangerous. Seriously dangerous.
I don’t know what you’re thinking anymore, but I can certainly interject my thoughts into your mind. Just as you can. So if you need me, Riley, for God’s sake, call me.
Startled by his sudden mind infiltration, I look at Eli over my shoulder. Is it a coincidence, my thinking of his inability to read my mind and his weird interjections? “I will.”
I mean it.
So do I.
“Better,” Eli says. “Now come on.”
The three of us head out into the night. It’s about nine p.m. With the Jeep stashed down an unused maintenance lane, we cover the mass of metal as we search the yard, old train cars, unused track, toolsheds. In the distance, the main Amtrak station depot has a faint glow as the lights burn. I can hear the people inside, what few there seemed to be. Some wait to catch a train. Some to pick up a passenger. All going about their ordinary lives.
None privy to the extraordinary creatures that slip through the night.
The train yard is full of shadows, and Eli leads us to a row of empty cars. In unison, we swing and bound up the side of the car closest to us until we land on top. The wind blows and I catch a whiff of something dead. A rabbit maybe? It’s been dead a while, I can tell that. The stench is nauseating. I almost gag.
Eli stands, a silhouette. He turns his head, inclines it, and without words, Riggs and I follow as the eldest Dupré begins to leap the train cars. Eli’s eyesight is nocturnal—he can see just about anything, at any distance. His hearing is acute, but not as severely as mine. Nor is his scenting as specific as mine.
I sense them. They’re here. Three of them. I sniff the air. They’ve just fed.
Across the yard to the left, behind the maintenance sheds.
Eli doesn’t question me; he doesn’t even look at me or acknowledge the words I slipped into his mind. Instead he leaps off the train car and moves in the direction I say, then cuts left behind the sheds. I head right. Riggs is two steps behind me. We silently bound over stacks of railroad ties, steel beams, cargo trailers. In seconds we’re in a maze of metal and wood. In the distance, the nine-thirty overnight train to Chicago blows its whistle. No, I can’t tell the destination by the whistle. I Googled the train schedule on my iPhone.
Ahead of us, between two cargo trailers, are the newlings. On the ground, a motionless heap that had no doubt been a live heap not too long ago. The scent wafting off the dead human sickens me, and I suddenly realize it isn’t rotting flesh or decay. The trace of remaining blood is stale. Stagnant. Dead. It all but chokes me.
I wonder how I can even detect it. Or worse—why it bothers me so much.
All at once, Eli, Riggs, and I surround the newlings. The first one notices us and instantly morphs. He lunges straight for Eli. I take my eyes off of them and find the other two. Behind me, I hear the newling gurgle as Eli twists off his head. I’ve learned that sound and know it anywhere. Both remaining newlings have turned, fangs dropped, and they bound for Riggs and me. Briefly, I keep my eye on Riggs. I forget how talented the little prick is. He sweeps a leg out and knocks one newling to the ground and is on him immediately, plunging a silver dirk into his heart. I turn and almost get coldcocked by the newling attacking me. He’s big, out of control, and as rabid as a new vamp comes. I know he will not go down easily.
This newling is fast. Fucking fast. In the blink of an eye he’s on me, has me by my throat and is lifting me up. My hearing picks up Eli’s voice. He’s swearing. Now he’s running. Unlike a newling, I have to have air to breathe, and this idiot is squeezing so hard I can barely draw in a breath. I can feel my larynx crushing under the weight of his fingers. But before Eli reaches me, I’ve got my legs wrapped around the newling’s neck. He’s strong as hell, but so am I. With one hand I reach for the silver sheathed at my waist, grab it, and jack it upward. It plunges into the newling’s eye and, as I thought, he turns me loose. I yank out the blade and bury it in his chest. He stands there, stunned, and begins to convulse. I deliver a single kick. Down he goes. Standing there in the train yard, surrounded by shadows, I bend over at the waist and breathe.
“Nicely done if I do say so myself, Poe,” says Riggs. He casually leans an elbow against my shoulder. “Couldn’t have done a better job. That blade in the eye thing—” He produced an exaggerated shudder. “Sick, Poe. Truly sick.”
I slide a glance sideways. “Glad to amuse,” I say, and am at least glad he’s stopped calling me babe. Then I shoot a quick look beside me. Eli stands, wordlessly. Scowling. I’m pretty sure that translates into Are you okay but he doesn’t say it. Instead, he inclines his head. “Let’s get out of here.” I know Eli battles within himself to keep from overprotecting me. It’s a good move on his part. He shows his faith by allowing me to round the train cars alone. I’d probably just get pissed off if he nagged me, and he knows I’m getting fed up with the overprotection. Maybe he’s chilling after all.
We comb the rest of the train yard and find nothing out of the ordinary. Of course, newlings aren’t going to be traipsing around with their fangs out and pupils all red and freaky. They’re hiding. Wai
ting. Watching from the shadows.
And in the dark corners of Savannah, there are plenty of pickings for the newlings.
Through the back streets of Garden City we run. Garden City, in all its stinky sulfur-from-the-paper-mill glory, is an industrial town just outside of Savannah. It’s still in Chatham County, but honestly—it ain’t purty. Okay, I take that back. The nature reserve just outside the city limits is pretty cool. Lots of alligators and low-country wildlife. I haven’t been back there in a while, though. No telling what you might find now.
Even the gators might be in hiding.
The night air, salty with a tinge of sulfur, washes over my face as I run. My muscles stretch, my lungs expand, and for a split second I feel invigorated. Alive.
Then that nagging weird feeling comes over me and that split-second euphoria evaporates. I’m just running on instinct now, half-ass following Eli. Like a robot. A vampire-slaying robot.
Eli runs just ahead of me and he darts down an alley in a dark subdivision behind Piggly Wiggly. Kinda difficult to speak of something dangerous and hideous as a bloodsucking newling and say the words Piggly Wiggly at the same time. Oxymoron, almost. Still. It is what it is.
“Look there,” Riggs says, and points over my shoulder. “At three in the morning it’s never a good thing to see a group of kids huddled against a wall down a dead-end street.”
I glance at him. He merely lifts his dark brows.
“You got anything, Riley?” Eli asks without looking at me. I know what he wants from me. His eyesight kicks ass, but my other senses are better.
Closing my eyes, I draw in a deep inhalation and let the particles settle against my tongue. I do it again. My eyes pop open and search the canopy of oaks lining the old street a few blocks ahead. “Up there.”
“How many?” Riggs asks.
“Four,” I respond. I can detect each separate scent of the newlings. I can even tell their sex. “Three males, one female.” They’re hunting the humans on the street below.
“Let’s split,” I say, and glance at Eli. I can immediately tell he hates that idea. Again. “Less chance of one of them slipping through and getting to the humans,” I add. “You know it’s the only way.” I quickly check myself. I say humans as if I’m no longer part of the species. Weird.
Eli mutters something under his breath—in French—and gives a short nod. The thing about Eligius Dupré when searching for newlings? He’s all business until the business is done. He knows what we have to do and will do it, even if he hates it. Like now.
“Riggs, you take the ledge,” Eli says, and points to the rooftop adjacent to the huddled humans. “Riley, you get the house next door,” he inclines his head, “and I’ll take the rooftop behind them. Wait for my signal. We don’t want to have to fight the humans and the newlings at once.”
I wait no longer. I nod and slip into the shadows and in three effortless leaps am on top of the roof next to where the humans stand against the wall. I glance over and notice Riggs is already in place. I can’t see Eli but I am sure he’s exactly where he said he would be. The night is stony still. Not a single breeze blowing now and the heartbeats of five humans resonate in my ears. The humans’ low, muttered mumbling sounds like a clan of monks chanting. The thumping begins to jumble in my head, run together, confuses me. I have to shut my eyes for a moment, breathe. Concentrate and push the sporadic beats aside and focus on what’s in front of me. I’m having trouble, though. Almost as if something is already inside my head, taking up all the extra room I have. I shake my head to clear my thoughts, and try harder to focus again.
A moment later, Eli is bounding off his rooftop. Despite the confusion in my head, I keep my eyes on Eli. He’s crouching now. He lunges. I follow. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Riggs do the same.
We are now all together in the canopy of live oaks. I never was a tree climber but damn if I’m one now. I’m closest to the female so I take her first. She has short spiky black hair with red tips. Her eyes narrow to slits when she sees me, the pinpoint red pupils all but glow.
“Look what’s come to visit,” the female says out loud. Through the darkness I see the other pairs of eyes staring at me. Good. They’re so fixated on me that they don’t see Eli and Riggs.
“Back off, Seline,” one of the males says. “I’d like a little piece of that fine ass before you rip her heart out.”
Seline hisses. I roll my eyes.
Take the female down and get out of here, Eli says inside my head. I don’t hesitate—he and Riggs have my back. I simply wait my turn. It comes pretty damn fast.
The female’s quick—and goddamn strong. She grabs my throat and pins me against the rough bark. I’m distracted by something. Sounds. A particular sound, and I hear it all around me.
It’s blood rushing through veins.
“You look scared, bitch,” the female said, close to my face. “I like that.”
“Yeah, I bet you do,” I say, my fingers wrapping around the hilt of my silver. Quickly, I bury the blade into her heart. Her eyes widen and she begins to convulse. Problem is, she still has me by the throat. She falls to the ground. I go down with her. After slamming against the spindly branches of the oak, the she-vamp’s body hits the sidewalk. Mine hits right beside her. Unable to help it, I let out an umph.
Shit.
The low murmurings of the humans totally cease for several seconds, then picks back up, grows louder, frantic, and as I stand, I glance over. They’ve, of course, spotted us, although I’m pretty sure they have no clue what’s actually going on. But since they’re up to something illegal anyway, they take one look at the body shaking on the cracked pavement beside me and strut right on over. A string of swear words floats through the crisp, still air, accompanied by idiotic laughter and the heady scent of Mary Jane. They haul ass in different directions. Damn, if they only knew that their high, pot-smoking butts have just been spared. Freaking idiots.
A body is thrown to the ground not four feet away. A male, convulsing. My eyes fix on his face, contorted, his jaw unhinged, fangs jagged and long. Nothing elegant about these guys—at least not in the Hollywood sense. His limbs contract, his body pulls into itself and for a moment—a solid split second—he looks at me. Those red pupils fix on mine. Pleading, almost. I look away, sickened. By what, I’m not sure. By what he’d become? Or by what I do to them now? Eli appears behind me, and Riggs drops from the tree.
Eli grabs my arm. “You okay?” he asks, and doesn’t wait for an answer. He checks me over, his eyes studying my body intensely.
“Yeah,” I answer, pulling my arm back. “I’m fine, Eli. Seriously.” I’m not, though, and it’s anything but the few feet I fell from the tree. That’s nothing. Didn’t even hurt.
I’m distracted, though. Something’s pulling me in all directions and I’m having a helluva time ignoring it. Part of it’s the constant killing. Yeah, I know they’re bloodsucking vamps. But they weren’t always and it bothers me. Go figure. Riley Poe with a conscience. For some reason, I keep it all to myself. I don’t want anyone knowing of my weaknesses, I guess. Besides, I can handle it. I can handle me.
Eli’s glare tells me he knows I’m bullshitting him. But I know he can’t dig in my mind anymore and I let him stew. “Let’s go,” I say, and begin to move up the sidewalk. “We still have to hit the industry park before we meet the others.” I adjust my blades and continue on. There’s hesitancy, but Eli follows. Riggs falls in behind us.
The industrial park is tall concrete pillars and steel buildings. All is quiet; happy to report not a single drop of blood or vampire dust is shed. Riggs is a little miffed about it, and I’m starting to think he digs the slaying a little too much. It takes us all of eight minutes to split up and scour the park. I use my senses to lead me, and thankfully they lead me nowhere. As I slip through the shadows, I inhale. Listen. Still, nothing unusual.
It’s close to four a.m. I’m making the last turn before I circle back to meet the others when the feeling hi
ts me. Almost…a sensation, and one that begins to crawl up my spine and spread through my arms, fingers, and over my face. A muffled thump-thump resonates within me. It sounds far off, almost as if in a tunnel. I feel myself moving toward it. The sound pulls me, and the faster I move, the stronger the beat.
The heartbeat.
Then, I see her.
I stop in my tracks and ease against a brick wall, pressing my back against its scratchy surface until I blend in with the shadows and overhanging moss. With each beat that resounds within me, another sensation stirs. A craving. A desire so strong it makes my jaws ache, my stomach ping, and my breathing slow way down. Through hooded eyes I watch her. With the streetlamp casting a glow against her skin I see her perfectly. She has a slight build and shoulder-length red hair, and wears glasses. She sits on a bench, alone, crying. I pause.
Go to her, Riley. She has what you desire. What you need. You can see she no longer wants life. She weeps because her heart’s been shattered. You can comfort her. Do it…
I turn my head to the left, then right. No one there. The voice, I realize, is in my head. Urging me. I want it to stop so badly, I cup my ears with my hands. It doesn’t work though. The voice continues.
Go to her. Do not hesitate or she’ll get away. This is your chance, Riley Poe. Listen with not your ears but your being. Her life force rushing through her with each beat. You know you want it. Soon you’ll realize you need it. It will satisfy that unquenchable thirst. You have it, don’t you Riley? A thirst that no drink can quench. A hunger no food can satisfy. She can help you. It will tame the darkness growing inside of you. Do it now, Riley Poe…
“No,” I whisper out loud, but it’s a weak whisper. The girl’s heartbeat becomes louder, my senses homing in on everything that creates it. With each thump-thump that echoes through my body, desperation builds within me until it reaches such a pitch, I brace myself against the wall to keep from sliding to the sidewalk. I…want it. Need it. Something pulses inside of me, driving me forward.