by Ginna Moran
Ivo spins and rushes Rylie with me between them. Fire explodes through me, the dagger sinking into my side. I scream out in pain and thrash hard enough to break free. I clutch my side, pushing through the pain to run in the direction we came from.
“Fiona, wait up. Come this way,” Rylie says from behind me.
I spin to see her standing at another door that I thought was an office but it’s a stairwell going up. Ivo gets to his feet, drawing my attention to him. He yells out in anger and yanks a gun from under his jacket in a hidden holster.
“Rylie, get down,” I say, pushing my legs to move.
Ivo fires the weapon, hitting the door. Something dark inside me snaps. I charge forward, the pain in my side triggering my dhampir mutation instead of weakening me. Ivo points the gun at me next, but he doesn’t shoot. He hesitates, frozen in the fear I elicit inside him. I launch at him and knock him onto his back. Wrapping my hands around his throat, I squeeze as hard as I can.
“Fiona, hurry. We have to go,” Rylie says.
I clench my teeth. “I can’t leave him.”
“You’re not a killer.”
“I’m not the fucking gift to humanity either!”
“Fiona, behind you!”
I don’t get a chance to move before two strong hands rip me away from Ivo. I thrash and buck, kicking my legs and flailing my arms, doing everything I can to break free of the vampire restraining me.
“Dhampir! She’s a dhampir,” Ivo says from the ground. “She’s a fucking dhampir here to destroy everything the academy stands for.”
“You asshole!” I yell. “He’s the rebel. He’s trying to kidnap me from the Kings. Get my misters.”
“Right away, Ms. King,” the familiar voice of Mr. Jimenez sounds in my ear. “But please, you have to stop fighting.”
I relax in my combat instructor’s arms until he sets me on my feet. I clutch my side. “I’ve been stabbed. Please, call Berkeley.”
“Mr. Knightly, please take Ms. King. Be sure to apply pressure to her wound. It would be a shame to waste any more of her blood,” Mr. Jimenez says. “Ms. Reynolds, please come closer and let Dawson pick you up and relocate you to the headmistress’s office. I’ll assist Mr. Nowak.”
The sudden sharpness of his voice ignites fear inside me. “Please, let Rylie go. She had nothing to do with this.”
A figure blurs in front of me, and the dickwad who tried to bite me in the middle of class materializes in front of me. “Ms. King, don’t fight. Don’t scream.”
This fucker. He’s trying to manipulate my mind.
I jab my fist up and clock him in the nose.
He snarls.
Chapter 21
Eternal Blood Source
THE KNIGHTLY ASSHOLE SHOVES ME against the wall and digs his fingers into my side. I scream out in pain and anger. It takes everything in me not to black out, the edges of my vision shadowing.
“You little bitch,” the vampire says, bringing his bloody hand to his mouth. He sucks my blood off each of his fingers. “She’s consumed blood.”
“Because she’s a dhampir!” Ivo shouts.
“Shut him the hell up and sit his ass down,” Mr. Knightly says to Mr. Jimenez. “Prove to me your worth if you want to be the head of security in Orion Falls.”
“Yes, Monterey,” Mr. Jimenez says. The combat instructor grabs Ivo by the collar and locks him in his gaze.
“Please, you can’t believe anything he says. He was trying to kidnap me,” I say, purposely softening my voice. “He doesn’t think the Kings should get to claim me.”
The corner of Monterey’s lips pulls up into a whisper of a smile, his eyes flashing silver at me. Something dark flashes in his grayish-blue eyes that lack any definition, giving him an eerie look. They glow against the deep brown, nearly black color of his long hair hanging loosely over his shoulders. The vampire’s not exactly handsome, more beautiful maybe, ageless to a point that I can’t tell how old he might’ve been when he transitioned.
“I never thought I’d agree with a donor, but here I am. The remaining King brothers lucked out inheriting your contract like they did. One might think they planned to betray Culver to strip him of his position to take over. The bastard wasn’t exactly one I’d want to serve.” Monterey’s fangs extend past his lip the longer he holds my gaze.
“Please, I need a health keeper. I’m bleeding out.” I don’t know what else to say to get him to do something other than memorizing every inch of my face with a leer that scratches at my nature. I hate being under his scrutiny.
“Hmm, I have some medical experience, Fiona. Allow me to take a look.”
I don’t get a chance to protest as Monterey tugs the hem of my untucked shirt up to expose my middle to him. His cool fingers brush my side around the accidental stab wound. My heart races, my body stiffening under his unwanted touch.
“What a surprise. The wound coagulates already. Her body’s regenerating unlike anything I’ve seen on a donor,” Monterey says, bending down a little to get a better look. He shocks me by jamming his finger into my side once more, opening the wound all over again to spill my blood.
I scream and jerk my knee too fast for him to avoid, smacking him hard in the chin. His jaw cracks under the force. Monterey releases a guttural, scary-ass sound and locks his fingers into my hair, yanking me off my feet. My body stretches with the movement, the pain so intense I black out.
A deep growl yanks me from a void in my mind, and I flail, pressing my hands into...not the floor. I gawk down at Monterey beneath me, both of my hands crushing his bones in his chest. He can’t even scream out as I squish everything inside him with my movement. Someone locks their hands around me to drag me off him.
“Stop her,” Dawson yells.
“Run, Fiona!” Rylie pulls me with her, the shock of everything sending my mind whirling.
I clutch onto two handfuls of guts and shattered bones, the force of my punches so strong that I broke through Monterey’s sternum and everything with my bare hands.
I ripped out his heart.
I rub my mouth on my white sleeve, turning it red. Shit. I drank his blood. I have never been able to do this before, but it was like my injuries and anger, everything terrible about this situation, released the wild beast inside me.
“Don’t let them escape,” Dawson says, abandoning his brother’s body to get to his feet.
Mr. Jimenez materializes behind me. “I will drain Ms. Reynolds if you resist.”
“Run, Fiona,” Rylie says, pushing me away from her. “I’ll hold them off.”
None of us has time to react when the school alarm blasts through the air again. I bend forward and cover my ears, trying to muffle the ear piercing noise. Dawson hooks his hands around me and lifts me to my feet. Rylie yells, trying to fight off Mr. Jimenez. Neither vampire reacts to the noise.
“They’re on their way,” Mr. Jimenez says. “Won’t be long until they fix the problems Mr. Nowak caused.”
“Then come on. We just need to get them out of here,” Dawson says near my ear. “We can claim they ran.”
Panic explodes through me, and I kick and thrash, trying once again to break free. Dawson locks his arms around me, keeping me facing away from him so that I can’t try to punch his heart out like I did with Monterey.
These fuckers are going to take me instead of turning me into the headmistress. What they plan to do with me? I have no idea, but there is no way in hell I want to find out. The lighting shifts with the change in the air, and I automatically gasp in a breath of the cool night. It’s been a while since I’ve been outside, and I had no idea how much I’d miss it. How much it makes me want to fight even harder.
“Take them around to the guest cottages,” Mr. Jimenez says. “We’ll lock them up until we get them on the move outside of the premises.”
“I’ll call the rest of my brothers. They’ll want to be here when I drain her,” Dawson says.
“It would be a shame to kill her. You saw how quic
kly she heals. I’ve heard stories during The Divide about dhampirs. They’re apparently eternal blood sources. A gift that will give us blood forever without having to rely on the shit show that is left of humanity.” Mr. Jimenez closes the space. “Isn’t that right, Ms. Flamme?”
I snap my teeth at him and yell, “Help!”
“Didn’t I warn you what would happen to Ms. Reynolds?” Mr. Jimenez adjusts Rylie off his shoulder and dangles her placid body in front of him. She doesn’t move or scream, trapped in the awful hold of Mr. Jimenez’s mind manipulation.
“Rylie,” I say. “Rylie, fight. Fight. You can break out of it. Please, you have to fight.”
She remains unmoving in Mr. Jimenez’s arms, her head lolling to the side to expose the skin of her neck. I jerk my head back and head-butt Dawson in the nose, catching him off guard. He drops me to the ground, sending pain exploding in my knees. Instead of rushing to pick me up again, he yanks Rylie from Mr. Jimenez.
“Mr. Knightly, let Ms. Reynolds go.” Headmistress Rasmussen’s voice cuts through the air, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “If you do not, you’ll face a meeting in front of the board.”
Dawson ignores the headmistress and extends his fangs. “It’ll be worth it. They’ll praise me for taking care of the rebel problem you let grow within the academy.”
“Mr. Jimenez, would you like to test your luck as well? Last I checked, you should have already left the premises for purposely breaking a rule the board has set in place for everyone’s safety.”
Mr. Jimenez growls and rushes me, snatching me from the ground. He throws me over his shoulder, spinning to look for a way out. Dozens of shadows move and shift through the manicured hedges and sleepy gardens of a grand courtyard.
“To the left,” Dawson tells Mr. Jimenez. “My brothers will meet us.”
Mr. Jimenez chooses to go right instead, and Dawson growls and releases Rylie. I reach down and grab at the vampire’s belt, trying to find a weapon while his attention focuses on evading Dawson.
“King brothers, you may now intervene. Remember protocol,” Headmistress Rasmussen says, her sharp voice whipping through the night. “Let this be a test.”
Figures blur, and I spot Hudson running in our direction with a scary-ass sword ready to fight. He doesn’t get to close the space. Another vampire darts in front of him, knocking him out of the way.
The world spins out of control, and we hit the ground rolling. I yell out in pain before my voice cuts off at the escape of my breath. I think I pass out again because one second I’m scraping my back on the pavement and in the next I’m hanging over Mr. Jimenez’s shoulder with the world blurring around us. Annoyance and anger blend with my slight panic. A game of keep away with me leaves me anxious. If these assholes wouldn’t move so utterly fast, I could attack.
I stay frozen, pretending to be unconscious, using everything I know about Mr. Jimenez and the Knightlys to strategize a plan. It takes me a few seconds to get my shit together, my human fear instincts begging my dhampir side to show this asshole who I really am.
Obviously Mr. Jimenez, while an instructor for security and combat, lacks the same power as the vampires he trains. If he didn’t, he’d be running a city or region or whatever instead. But, he knows his shit, so he has the advantage of strategizing and knowing what his students are capable of and what they lack. He’s fleeing with me to better his chances of survival.
Peeking through my eyelashes, I tilt my head slightly and glance at Mr. Jimenez’s weaponry belt. My options are less than stellar. I don’t have training in using the gun, and the one locked on his belt doesn’t look like the ones the rebels use from the back-world. I think Mr. Jimenez might have explosives as well. Not exactly something I want to pull free and hope for the best.
The last weapon available looks to be some sort of utility knife. I silently count to three and snatch it, fumbling to spring the blade up. Bunching the fabric of his dress shirt, I yank it free from his pants and jam the blade into his lower back. He arches and flips me off of him, but I force him to the ground with me, my fingers refusing to let his shirt go.
A deep, guttural snarl cuts through the night, and I shove Mr. Jimenez off me and scramble to get to my feet. My sluggish movements can’t keep up with my brain, screaming that I need to hurry my ass up or die.
Dawson materializes next to Mr. Jimenez and kicks him hard in the gut, sending him rolling. He crashes into the cement base of the tall, wrought iron fence sectioning off the massive academy property from the dark, wild landscape of who-knows-where.
I stumble away, using the fence to help support my awkward footing. The best I can hope for is for Mr. Jimenez to put up a fight to keep Dawson away from me long enough to get back near the center of the academy. I want to yell for help, but I also don’t want to risk some other asshole taking advantage of the situation.
“Fi-i-i-o-o-ona-a-a,” Dawson calls from behind me. “Stop running from me. I won’t hurt you if you comply. This was all a misunderstanding. I don’t want to end your life. I want to make you mine. I’m far more powerful than any of the King rejects. They can’t even get past my brothers. You need someone far more powerful for you to take care of.”
I slow down, knowing that running is pointless. He only lets me get this far ahead because he can catch up.
“Me take care of you?” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “You know what I am, right?”
“An eternal blood source,” he says, flashing his fangs.
I glare. “Who survives on vampire blood. A lot of it.”
“Is that all it’ll take? You want some of my blood?” He raises his eyebrows, his eyes trailing from my face and down the rest of me. Now that I’m not fighting, he’s no longer trying to scare the shit out of me. I guess that’s why Blood Rebels end up hurt or killed. If you comply, you survive. If you fight, you die.
But I’m not doing either.
I lick my lips, trying to remain calm as he closes the space to me, creeping me the hell out. Instead of letting him touch me, I press my hand to his chest and touch his face to push his messy blond tresses off his shoulder.
“I wouldn’t mind a taste,” I say, lowering my voice.
“Me, first.” Dawson locks his hand around my waist and yanks me to him. Pausing, he grabs a handful of my hair and shifts it from my shoulder. “You will always take care of me first.”
My breathing quickens as he slowly leans into me. I link my fingers to his shoulders, standing on my tiptoes. My heartbeat pounds in my head, and I focus on the dark night behind him.
That’s where I see him.
I try not to react as Torrance stalks through the shadows of the row of trees that decorate the outskirts of the property. His eyes flash so quickly that they nearly look solid silver. Just the sight of him gives me the courage to do something crazy. To risk my life.
Taking a deep breath, I jerk my head forward and sink my teeth into Dawson’s shoulder, biting him hard enough through his shirt to still make him bleed. He hollers but doesn’t shove me away like I had hoped. Instead, he smashes my back into the wrought iron fence, lifting me off my feet high enough to catch my shirt on the decorative spikes lining the top.
Reaching for his back, he unsheathes a long sword and aims it at my chest. “Come any closer, and I will cut out her heart.”
Torrance stops. “It’s over, Mr. Knightly. Your brothers have surrendered. If you hurt Ms. King, it’ll be an act of war against my coven. I’ll have the right to take your head under the Blood Life Corp authority.”
“I think I’m willing to risk it,” Dawson says, ripping the front of my shirt with the tip of the blade.
Torrance releases the scariest, deepest growl in all of existence. “Is she worth your death?”
“You say that like such a thing is possible.” Dawson lowers the sword and stabs it an inch into my torso.
I scream and swear, reaching up to try to free my shirt from the fence. Dawson tips his head back and laughs. Torran
ce rushes closer, unable to control his instincts to try to save me. Spinning, Dawson swings his sword, slicing it through the air. Torrance barely stops in time, taking the blade across his chest.
Dawson rushes Torrance, and the two of them blur in a fight. I take advantage of the distraction and swing myself as hard as I can to free myself from the fence. The fence shakes at the force of something—no, someone—smashing into it. I gasp at the sight of Torrance trying to pull himself free of the wreckage.
“Don’t you see, Fiona? This asshole isn’t worthy of your servitude. Your blood.” Bringing his arm back, Dawson aims his sword at Torrance. He jams it into Torrance’s chest faster than I can scream.
Torrance grunts at the force, attempting to dislodge the weapon. Twisting the hilt, Dawson slowly carves the blade up higher to try and cut Torrance’s heart free.
“Wait. Wait!” I yell. “Don’t kill him. Please.”
“You want me to show mercy?” Dawson says, his mouth widening in a smile.
I flick my gaze to Torrance, who shakes his head at me. “Please,” I say. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
“You will anyway.” Dawson jerks his arm again, impaling Torrance with the sword.
Another deep growl sounds through the air, and I catch sight of Hudson standing in the middle of the walkway, his shirt torn and stained with blood. Dawson snarls at Torrance and jams the sword so far into Torrance’s chest that it stakes into the concrete wall.
Dawson rips one of the broken wrought iron bars and closes the space to me. He doesn’t hesitate and shoves it so hard into my stomach that my vision blurs. Something snaps inside me, my need to survive taking me over, and I rip the front buttons off my shirt and thrust myself forward too fast for Dawson to react.
Someone grabs me from behind, dragging me away from Dawson. Bright lights flash through the air, and I buck and twist, my body so filled with adrenaline that I can’t feel or hear or barely even see. My eyes focus solely on Dawson as Hudson yanks him to his feet.
“Fiona, it’s me. It’s okay. I got you,” Aspen says, whispering into my ear.