by Mia Strange
VAMPIRE IN SILVER
THE TRAVELING TROUPE ACADEMY OF DR. DARK, Book 2
Mia Strange
Contents
Rails and Wheels…
Quote
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
This Author’s Journey
Coming Soon!
About the Author
For Houston, always…
Rails and Wheels…
RAILS and WHEELS,
IRON and STEEL,
* * *
Are you brave enough to ride the tracks?
Brave enough to not look back?
If you are, you’ll travel far.
And you’ll find a home, with those who roam…
Welcome to The Traveling Troupe Academy of Dr. Dark’s Oddities, Misfits, and Freaks, where we deal in curiosities, the strange, the unusual, the unknown, and most importantly…magic.
OUR MISSION
Save the world…one destination at a time.
Save the world.
Even if you can’t save yourself.
* * *
Hop aboard for destinations unknown…
Destination:
The Emerald City…
Seattle
Departure: Shortly after midnight.
Mission: getting out of town…alive.
* * *
Next Destination: Las Vegas
The magic is in the Blood…
1
The King Street Station,
Seattle … in the not so distant future.
When the last of Drusilla’s magical wards finally evaporated into the sea fog and mist that surrounded Seattle’s King’s Street station, I knew I had flat run out of luck.
Or at least my railcar had.
How did I know this?
By the bone-jolting wake-up call I got as my comfy twin bed screeched across the slick floorboards and crashed into the iron door.
In a daze, because, hello, so not a morning person here, I reached out to brace myself against a wall that was no longer there, came up empty, lost my balance, flew out of bed, and landed smack on my ass on the cold hard floor.
Wow. My birthday week just kept getting better and better.
My name is Skye St John, and a few days back I turned eighteen. And let’s just say my special day was one for the records. Unfortunately, not in a good way. Waking up in a morgue with a belly wound inflected by a magical knife laced with all the wrong kinds of magic, was a hell of a present.
But thanks to our newly ‘vampire outed’ Academy member, Traveler Hale and his cursed, black magic blood, I’m all better.
If you can call being blood bound to a vampire all better.
But I couldn’t dwell on that now. If I did, I might start screaming. Again.
I could only dial my terror-o-meter down so far, being that tonight, at our final show in Seattle, the vampire Traveler Hale would perform with pure silver piercing his flesh. I’m told that silver is lethal for vamps. And if it’s lethal for him? It’s lethal for me. Shit. Wasn’t a blood transfusion supposed to help?
But right now? My railcar just might have derailed and I had to fine out why. Damn it. My terror-o-meter just bumped up a notch higher. Oh hell. Let’s be honest. Make that two notches.
Yep, railcar lucky number seven, my Academy assigned iron home for the past five years, was officially unprotected. And even Dr. Dark with all his magical concoctions and secret elixirs couldn’t replace Drusilla spells that once filled the iron horseshoe that was hammered outside my door. After all, Dru was the most powerful witch Dark had ever met. And apparently, he had met a lot. The man did get around.
“Fuck,” I said to know one but myself. “Just fucking good morning to you too.”
From my vantage point, or disadvantage point, depending how you looked at it since I was still sitting on my ass, I squinted my eyes as a slice of daylight slid in under the ill-fitting door. Why in everything holy did my railcar brakes disengage from the rails and lunge forward at bump-fuck-too-damn early in the morning?
And why didn’t I ever follow the rules and secure my bedframe with the clamps on the floorboard? After all, more often than not, we did sleep when our train was rolling down the tracks.
Lazy? Oh hell no. I have my faults, but lazy was not one of them.
But…I eyed the small table that was welded in place to an iron wall, which held the crumbs of cookies from last night, I knew the real reason. I liked that my bed moved. I liked that I didn’t have to get out of bed to grab a cookie at midnight. I just pushed along the wall with my bare feet, and there I was. Cookie in hand.
Whoa. Maybe I was lazy. Still, they were chocolate chip. I wasn’t gonna wait until morning.
A pounding on my iron door had my foggy head ringing.
“Skye. Wake up. The railcars are a tangled flippin’ mess.”
I pushed up from the floor, and gave my bed a shove, sending it thumping back into the wall it came from. I heaved open the door. Pilot, Academy member, magic man, and walking lethal weapon, stood there looking perfect as always. I shook my head. How was that even possible this early in the morning.
Pilot was two years older than me, a grad student, and the captain of our amazing airship, The Dark Destiny. There was nothing he couldn’t fly. It’s just in our crumbling post-apocalyptic world his choices of flight were severely limited.
“Wow,” he said. “So, this is your morning look. Somehow I had it pictured differently in my head.”
I looked down at my tank. It was inside out, on backwards, and smeared with remnants of chocolate chips. I subconsciously tugged up my low slung, too big for me sweatpants. I looked down at the ginormous hole in the knee. Nice. In fairness, I had dressed in the dark.
“Don’t start, Pilot,” I shook my head. “This may come as a surprise, but no. I don’t sleep in my corset, mini skirt and full on theater makeup.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Indeed you don’t.”
“Nice bedhead, St John. Huh. You know, it doesn’t look much different than usual. Maybe try a hairbrush sometime.”
I glared over Pilot’s shoulder at Anastasia Hunt.
With long platinum hair and sky-blue eyes that looked like artic ice, she was a beautiful girl. After the last world war, the trade wars, when the earth’s core cracked and bled magic, many were hit with it in different, remarkable ways. Ana had sprung a five-o-clock shadow and turned into a werewolf. Wish I could have been there for her first look in the mirror.
No. I didn’t like her. I didn’t trust her. And, believe me, the feeling was mutual.
I narrowed my eyes and as always tried to figure out what my gut was telling me about Anastasia. Something was just…off. And it worried me.
This morning she was dressed in a mini skirt that was beyond short. Her thigh-high boots gave me serious boot envy. I knew she was heading out early for The Neptune Theater, where our last show in Seattle was taking place tonight. A show where a vampire, dressed up in silver would take the stage. I tapped down a shiver.
Anastasia and her crew, all fuzzy but so not warm types, handled our show security. And as much as it pained me to say it, with their ‘my, what big teeth you have’ persona, they were damn good at it. Yep, ungrateful of me I know. Guess you’re figuring out I’m not perfect.
I frowned. “Ana, I think you
r tail is showing.” That wasn’t even possible, not in human form, but I got a kick out of the fact I made her look. I smirked.
“You know, Skye St John, you can just go shove it up your-”
Pilot slung his human arm around the girl’s shoulder, effectively cutting her off. His mechanical arm hung loosely at his side, the polished brass looking as shiny and as golden as his hair. Pilot had only been ten when he had lost his arm in the Ash Lands and was left to die by our new corrupt, evil, dictatorship, called The Gov.
Dr. Dark had found him, brought him to his traveling Academy, Dark’s home on the rails, and the rest as they say is history. Now, as the best-looking guy on this train, Pilot had the most active social life in the history of the Academy.
He walked her a few feet away, whispered in her ear, and had her giggling in under a minute. I rolled my eyes. Good ol’ charismatic Pilot. When he sent her on her way, she looked disappointed.
“You’ve come a long way from that bullied kid,” I said. A memory flashed in my mind. Pilot with his ragged stub of an arm, hanging with antisocial, skinny, perpetually pissed-off, me. We had made quite a pair. And I knew I wouldn’t have made it through those lonely, tough times, without him. I smiled. “Guess we both have.”
He nodded, shrugged and watched Ana walk back to her cars. Tall and willowy, I hated to admit it, but it was hard not to watch her go. She moved like a ripple in a pond. I so did not move like a ripple. I was more like a rogue wave that crashed ashore and took down buildings. Chaos Magic was my talent, and if you polled the Academy members, most would say that was not a good thing. Okay. All of them would say that was not a good thing.
Her iron door clanked closed, the sound echoing in the damp morning air around us.
The wolves had the largest, longest cars. They were also reinforced steel, for you know, nights when the moon was full, and the train couldn’t exactly pull over for a midnight run. And hunt. And kill.
“Don’t forget,” I said softly to Pilot. “When we were kids, the wolves were among the worst. For both of us.”
“Ancient history, Skye. Ancient history.”
I sighed. Maybe he had a point, maybe it was time to let go of the past.
An image of Emma, my little sister popped into my mind. I’d been searching for her for years, and this time in Seattle, it had almost gotten me killed. Nope. I couldn’t let go of the past. And that included the damn wolves. I couldn’t help it. I was a Scorpio.
“Pilot, you figure anything out?”
Well, I knew that voice didn’t I. Great. Another member of my anti-fan club had just walked up. Couldn’t wait for the let’s blame Skye show to start. I watched as Turk approached us.
“My fucking railcar felt like it was hit by a Tsunami. Guess you headed to the same source for answers. Good ol’ Skye St John. So, tell me, Skye, you have anything to do with this mess on the tracks?”
I stopped short of rolling my eyes. “It’s not always me, Turk.”
“Yeah. It usually is.” He approached my car and leaned over to examine the wheels. “Close to derailing this one. Damn it, Skye. Really? This extra boost of yours got anything to do with your newly acquired vamp blood? Cause if it does, I can hardly fuckin’ wait to see what comes next.”
Turk may have a point, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to admit it. The vampire had saved my life with his blood. And yes, there was magic in the blood. And now? It was in me.
Who really knew what the future had instore for me? Who knew when Traveler Hale took the stage tonight and danced with silver, if I would even survive until curtain call? And Turk thinks he has problems?
He crossed his arms over his muscular chest. His duster flapped in the breeze, his thick dreads blew behind him in a flurry of dark twists and knots. The exotic feathers he had tied in the dreads twirled in the wind. He looked like a moving kaleidoscope. Turk was heavily tattooed. Midnight ink covered his mahogany skin– something you wouldn’t know with the layers of clothing he wore this morning.
You also would never know he could bring those tattoos to life. Most of the intricate designs consisted of dangerous predators. And you’d never know they lived and breathed, moved and roared, chomped and chewed, squeezed and gulped…until it was too late.
I pointed to my iron horseshoe that had been hammered on my door. We all had them on our railcars. They all pointed upward, like a tiny vessel ready to catch the rain. “Empty,” I said. “And I suspect yours is too.”
Turk walked over and ran his hand around the iron, fingered the inside, tapped the rim. He sighed. “I can’t fuckin’ tell. This isn’t in my wheelhouse.”
“Maybe you should have paid attention in Spells, Wards, and Warts class,” I said, feigning sweetness.
“Maybe you should remember I’m a grad student. With honors. Plus, my magic? Can eat you up, little girl.”
“Guys,” Pilot walked up. “Stop.” He ran his hand over the iron shoe, pulled his fingers back and blew on them to warm them up. “Stone cold,” he said. “There’s nothing left of the wards. Nothing.”
Turk sighed. “This will make me late to The Neptune. Tell Doc for me?”
“Sure,” said Pilot. “Got enough help to anchor the breaks?”
“Yeah, I’ll grab some freshmen, ‘bout time they got some grease under their fingernails.”
With a glare directed at me, he stomped away.
“Well,” I sighed. “Guess I’ll take that as an apology.”
“At least he made eye contact.” Pilot shrugged.
“Yeah,” I whispered, “guess that’s something.” Turk had a hellfire of hate burning for me. And I couldn’t blame him. He held me responsible for Madison’s death. She was beautiful, kind, and the closest thing I had to a sister next to Emma. She was the first Academy member we had ever lost.
And even though Dr. Dark said Turk had it ‘all wrong,’ deep down, I wasn’t sure Turk didn’t have it ‘all right.’ I loved Maddie. My heart had shattered when we lost her to a free-range zombie bite. But Turk? Loved her more than all of us put together.
I blinked back the tears that always threatened when I thought of Maddie… and Emma.
“Come on,” Pilot gave me a hug. “Let’s get going. Most of the Academy is at The Neptune already.
I nodded. There was a shit-ton of work to do before showtime. And the busier I stayed, the less I’d dwell on Traveler Hale and his performance.
Images of silver hooks, blood and screams, flashed through my mind. Not now, whispered that voice in my head, the voice of my long-dead mother, that tried to calm me down, don’t think of it now.
“Is your scope handy?” Pilot held his hand up to shield his eyes. He was squinting at something down the rails.
I nodded. I hopped back into my railcar and retrieved my retractable spyglass. Jumping out, I handed it to Pilot. “Spying?”
“On our resident vampire.”
“Daylight,” I shrugged. “Not much to see, I’m thinking.”
“Just wondering how Turk will get close to Traveler’s brakes.”
“Aw, so it’s true. The Dublin twins are on guard?”
He snapped the scope open, extending it to its full length, and held it to his eye. “Yep. There they are. Shit. They look like statues. And we thought Traveler Hale was spooky.”
I nodded. The Academy rumor mill had been busy throughout the night. It wasn’t every day we found out we had a vampire living among us.
Sixteen-year-old Jin, troublemaker, pot-stirrer, and magically gifted beyond belief, was spotted wearing a turtleneck last night. And I thought the garlic earrings were way over the top, even for Jin. I loved her, I did. But I swear, with her involvement in everyone’s life, mainly mine, and the twirling cans of KRYLON spray paint she carried, the kid invented the word ‘challenging.’
But it was news that the twins, Fae from the Unseelie Court, had been hired by Traveler Hale as bodyguards that had the entire Academy whispering. The boys, who now perched outside of Traveler’s railca
r, were of unknown age. 17? 24? 100? It was impossible to know for sure.
The boys were scary quiet, moved like a breath of air, caused no trouble, and kept solely to themselves. As a matter of fact, if it wasn’t for the class I took in my sophomore year, Fae, The Unseelie Court. How to survive the dark court… if you can. I wouldn’t have given them a second thought. They would have just been students, like the rest of us. Although if I were being honest, we all harbored our own secrets, didn’t we?
Hailing from Dr. Dark’s homeland of Ireland, and nicknamed the Dublin twins after the city they were born in, even our fearless leader gave them a seemingly wide berth.
But I knew Dark was always watching…and the twins? Silent as always…were watching back.
Pilot handed the spotting scope back to me and shrugged. “Turk will find a way.”
“Yep,” I agreed. “With a little help from his friends.” I thought of the giant Black Panther that he’d called forward to fight the wrong kind of crowd that had cornered us in an alley after a show. The cat had stood between us and death. Let’s just say we were the only ones who left that alley…alive.
“Pick ya up in an hour.” Pilot turned to walk away.
“Kay. Where?”
“Up there.” He pointed to the sky above, laughed and walked away.
Before I took the step up into my railcar, where a secret stash of cookies and a cold shower awaited, I swung the scope to have a look myself. There the twins stood, perfectly still, dusters buttoned to their chins, top hats on perfectly straight.
They turned their heads in perfect unison, and stared at me.
Their features were distorted, marred, meshed. Chins had elongated, wicked rows of teeth gleamed under too taut lips. Their eyes, sunk deep into sockets, shown as bottomless pits of black.
I gasped, fell back against my door, and nearly dropped my precious scope.