by Kim Petersen
I vaguely heard her behind me as she shifted to her feet and sprung onto the landing. The darkness was broken by a long hiss and golden eyes that glinted like firestones. Shallow breath. My fingers curled around the machete handle. I steadied my gaze to find him on the landing below me, golden hair like pink floss. Crimson lips appeared askew.
He leaned against the wall. His chin tilted and his lips twisted into a sinister grin. Shallow breath. My senses zoned in on him as I crouched on the stairs.
“Going somewhere without saying hello?” His voice was a singsong. He tapped long talons together. “Tsk. Tsk. Would-be warrior humans, when will you ever learn?”
My eyes never left his. The clock was ticking.
His eyes narrowed to slits. His voice throaty.
“You cannot outsmart or outrun a vampire. Give me the vial.”
Shit. They know we’ve got the blood.
I took a sharp breath and grabbed the machete as he lunged up the stairs. He moved like speed. The machete blade slashed at his chest as his talons caught me.
He slipped to his knees, grinning. Blood spilled over the blade as I stood and swung again. He leapt to feet, catching the thrust of the blade with his hand and tearing it from my grasp. The metal clanked on the stairs and a roar tore from his throat as he lunged at me.
Time stalled as I dodged his yellow fangs and talons. Avila’s low shriek clung in my ear as she slipped from behind and jabbed her stake through his heart. His nails dug into my arm as he froze. His jaw dropped and his expression paled before he collapsed.
His body crumbled onto the stairs.
Holy fuck.
I spun around to see Avila panting. More footsteps came from below. No time to think. My arms burned. So did my lungs. I grabbed the machete. We bolted toward the lobby door, bursting across the threshold and sprinting through the vast dim space that separated us from the streets. There was sunlight in the street. Relative safety.
The distance appeared unfathomable. I kept my focus on the big lobby door. Avila ran silently beside me. Adrenaline burned through my system, dulling the pain. Fail and we were dead. Fail and the world would know even more evil.
My lungs silently screamed. Almost there. I reached for the chrome door handle and pulled. I heard a thump from behind. What the hell? Avila screamed beside me. My hand gripped the handle as I yanked on the door and turned to look for Avila. She was gone.
Sunlight flooded across the threshold and spilled into the lobby. I stood fast, jamming my boot against the heavy door as the warmth of the sun radiated over me. My chest heaved as my gaze darted around the lobby.
“Avila!”
“Dad!”
Her voice was followed by hideous laughter. That was when I saw her – trembling and ensnared between the claws of a vampire. My stomach dropped as I met her stare. They stood in the shadows along a wall painted gray that forked to give way to a series of long corridors. I hadn’t seen him coming, and now, she was at his mercy.
The vampire’s dark hair hung over his face and almost concealed eyes that glowed like neon lights as he held her firm. His fangs glistened only inches above her throat. She squirmed beneath his grasp and gritted her teeth.
“Let me go, asshole!”
He laughed, and his laughter was chorused by four other vampires as they emerged from the shadowy corridors to stand beside him. My heart felt like stone when I recognized Marius. It was defeat that gripped me.
I stood firm in the sunlight. I studied them as I struggled to gage the situation. The sun was neither friend nor foe in that moment. I wanted to burn to ashes as I beheld my daughter and took in her pallid expression and wild eyes. She swallowed visibly. Her eyes narrowed as she shook her head.
My little tough nugget.
I knew she meant for me not to yield to the bloodsuckers. Yet, I couldn’t accept what that would mean for her. Hopelessness rimmed as Marius moved toward Avila. He clasped her hand and pulled her to him. His pale features were a striking contrast against his thick black hair as he regarded her before turning toward me, grinning.
“Jett, isn’t it?” His brows raised as he looped an arm around Avila. He glanced down at her. “Such a beautiful daughter. Now, we both possess something that is precious to the other. What to do …”
I stiffened and lifted my chin.
“Let her go, Marius. I have what you want.”
“Step away from the sunlight and give it to me.” He went to stroke a strand of hair from Avila’s face but she turned her head away and looked at me.
“No, dad. Don’t give it to them.”
Marius laughed. His barnacle cronies joined in behind him. I wanted to kill them all.
“Hmm … such fire!” Marius glanced at the others before giving Avila an approving nod. His gaze darkened when he looked back at me. “Quite an admirable trait, but one that will not keep her alive.” He paused and took an exaggerated breath. “Tell you what; I have a proposition for you, Jett. I heard tell that you are an extraordinary hematologist – a skill I am in need of to help build the utopian world I have envisioned. Join us and no one needs to die today. In fact, no one need die ever. I’m offering you and your daughter the gift of eternal life. What do you say?”
I gaped at him as his words spiraled through my mind. It was despair that found victory over my emotions as I looked at Avila. She stood defiant and brave in the face of evil. Her eyes focused on me and my heart shattered as the weight of the situation shadowed me. If I handed the blood over to Marius, he would possess the power to transcend into a vampire with extraordinary abilities. He and his clan would become all powerful; monstrous creatures of the night that would ravage the earth and take every living being with them.
I could feel my veins bulging beneath my skin as Avila’s eyes dampened and she mouthed the word ‘no’. My heart lurched. I shuddered as I strained to provide an answer to a choice I’d never dreamed possible.
Dreams were yesterday’s wishes on charred wings. The survival of humanity now rested on my shoulders and my daughter’s life.
My beautiful little nugget.
8
Cry to Me
When your baby leaves you all alone and nobody calls you on the phone.
Silence is a noise. Ragged breaths and the soulful sounds of Solomon Burke’s Cry to Me screamed through my mind as I stared at my daughter. It was her favorite. The moments stalled. My child. Images of her long dark hair bouncing over her shoulders as she danced clung in my mind’s vision. Flouncing yellow dresses. Small ruby lips breaking into laughter. The sweet sound of her voice when she called to me.
My heart ached. Her dewy lashes glistened despite the nod she gave me. The world spiraled with nothing beneath my feet. The lobby door cramped against my boot. My toes were numb. The beat of the sun slammed against my back. I wanted to die right then and there. Better that than to face the impossible choice confronting me.
Avila.
I was startled as Marius began humming the bluesy tune playing through my mind. My nerves spiked as I looked at him. His skin appeared luminous beneath the dull light as he spread his arms.
“Doncha feel like crying, Jett?” He looped his fingers beneath his chin, grinning. “Ah … surprise, surprise! You weren’t aware that some of us kindred have the ability to invade minds?” He laughed before snaring an arm around Avila. “It used to be my mother’s favorite too. So, you see, we’re going to be one big happy family!”
“Like hell we will!” Avila pushed against him, glaring. Her next words were delivered through gritted teeth. “You are a satanic brute.”
She shrunk away as he hissed at her. Talons clawed at her hair. She didn’t even whimper. Her jaw tightened as she glared at him. “Dick!”
He frowned at her with amusement before turning to me.
“I am growing very fond of your daughter. Her energy is … intoxicating. Sometimes, we’re not aware of what we’re missing from our lives until we encounter it.”
His grin dissolv
ed as the noise of heavy footsteps came from the corridors behind him. “Play time is over. Bring me the vial or I’ll have the Guardians take it from you.”
A group of people suddenly spilled from the shadows into the lobby. There were about eight of them; men and women clad in dirty denim and knee-high boots with whips slung at their waists. Black bandanas hugged their skulls and their expressions were cold.
I could barely breathe as I surveyed them.
“When you're all alone in your lonely room and there's nothing but the smell of her perfume.”
Time stopped as my gaze rested again on Avila. She was motionless, her image already fading as I took a step back. She mouthed the words “I love you” and my heart splintered into a thousand pieces.
Marius shouted as the sound of thudding boots charged toward me. The Guardians were on the move. It was time. I tore my eyes from Avila and spun around, sprinting from the lobby threshold into the street.
The air was a hot enemy and pain already an unwelcome friend. I was suffocating. Dying. My boots were concrete as I pushed forward. Get to the corner. The Guardians yelled out behind me. Lurking shadows filling doorways, watching the scene unfold. Manic laughter flooded the street. The corner came closer. Closer. My legs felt like pudding.
In the blur of the moment came another sound. A machine? An engine? My thoughts scattered. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. Breathe, Jett. I fought for air. Go faster. My calves burned and I was blind. Avila. My ears pricked up through the deafening haze as a high-pitched screech crunched across the road.
Tires.
The muscles of my body tightened as I spotted the metallic blue Jeep come to a sudden halt at the corner. What the fuck? My pace instantly slowed. I could feel the tremors in my body as the window lowered and the Guardians shouted from behind.
“Get the bastard!”
“Hurry!”
I glanced over my shoulder as swollen faces closed in fast. My fingers grasped the machete. There was no time to think. I swung my eyes back to the Jeep and the face that was distorted beneath golden hair.
“Jett! Get in!”
Sun?
I squinted, hesitating before bolting for the Jeep and flinging open the door to the shouts of the Guardians skidding up behind me.
“The bastard’s getting away!”
“Motherfucker!”
I was still about to shut the door when Sun slammed her foot on the accelerator and sped off down the street. The Jeep engine roared and the hot wind gusted into my face as I yanked the door closed, my chest heaving as I stared back at her. Grimy slim fingers gripped the steering wheel. She chewed her bottom lip, glancing at me.
“Where’s Avila?”
I squeezed my eyes shut as my body was racked with spasms. My throat hurt when I swallowed as I gazed ahead. All I could see was the image of Avila’s bright lemon dress and her hair swinging as she danced.
I formed the words that tortured my soul. “She’s gone.”
Doncha feel like crying. Doncha feel like crying.
9
Dead Inside
“Tea?” Sun’s smile evaporated as fast as it had emerged. The dark circles beneath her eyes darkened. “You need to drink something … eat something.”
I looked at the steaming mug she shoved toward me. My fingers felt numb.
“My grandmother used to say that tea makes everything better.” Sun gave a half laugh. When I stared back at her, she bit her bottom lip and looked away as she sat down on the sofa next to me. “Take it. You’re going to need your strength.”
I took the mug and pondered the hot milky broth. My grandmother used to say the same thing about tea. It was a lie. No amount of tea could ease the constant stabbing sensation crippling my stomach, nor could it erase the evil that took my lover and claimed my daughter. Tea wouldn’t make everything alright.
I tentatively took a sip and forced the liquid down my throat, grimacing. It hurt to swallow. It hurt to breathe. My skin was chilled from the inside out and it was guilt that weighed heavy on my heart. I was alive. Avila was not. I had forsaken her for a future hung on false dreams and unfounded myths. I’d failed my daughter.
Dreams have no place in this new reality. Dreams are nothing but feeble whims on the devil’s tongue. They mean nothing.
I set the mug down on the coffee table and stood up, running my fingers through my dark hair and sighing. Dead. Everything inside me felt bloodless. I barely glanced at Sun as I paced the cottage sitting room.
“You should go. The hawkers will be here before long.”
“I already told you, I’m not going anywhere. There’s nothing left for me.”
There’s nothing left for anyone.
I stopped at the window and peeled back the curtain, scanning the cottage porch and yard. My gaze settled on the dense twisted trunks bordering the gravel clearing as I contemplated her sudden appearance in my life. She had said she knew where to find me in the city the day before; that she’d followed us before discovering her daughter’s remains perishing on the floor of her living room. She said she had guns.
I spun around to see her bottom lip trembling, but her azure eyes blazed. I sighed.
“Stay with me and you’ll probably die before the end of this day.”
She gave a rueful laugh and rubbed her palms over her jeans. Her eyes moistened.
“You are the kindest person left in this world. You helped me when nobody else would.” She shook her head, her stringy golden hair clinging to her cheekbones. Her voice lowered. “I’ll die with you today, Jett.”
Her words were delivered with simplicity, yet they struck hard against my heart. I shook my head. I barely knew this woman and didn’t understand her reasoning, but there was no need to. In a world overrun by vampires, swindlers and criminals, nothing made sense anymore. She was a ray of light in an eternal darkness. She was like the sun.
“Your parents named you well.”
She smiled as our eyes briefly locked before I looked away and walked to where her guns lay on the floor. I picked up a long-barrelled firearm. My hands were clammy against the cold metal, but I felt a sense of comfort as I drew back the hammer and cocked the rifle before propping it by the cottage door. I’d never been overly fond of guns, nor had I owned one. Things were different now.
Sun stood and came up beside me. She selected a Glock 9mm handgun from the small stash of weapons and started inspecting the dull black short-barrelled pistol. Quick fingers ejected and reinserted the magazine before expertly gripping the handle and stuffing it in the pocket of her jeans. My curiosity was aroused but I said nothing.
“Where do you want me?” She flicked her chin toward the front door. “You want me to hide out in the trees?”
“No, they use the forest grounds as their cover. Stay by the window and keep out of sight. Train your gun on whoever has Scarla. If it goes to shit, kill as many of them as you can.”
“With pleasure.”
Scarla.
Just saying her name caused the shadow in my heart to deepen. I turned away and headed back to the window as my thoughts swirled with a thousand questions. Had I done the right thing by leaving Avila at the mercy of vampires for the sake of preventing further mayhem and horror? Had I made the right decision? Was she dead already?
Whether she was dead or not didn’t matter in that moment – or even if I’d made the right decision. The choice had already killed me on the inside, and I knew I would never forgive myself whatever the outcome.
The only thing that mattered now was Scarla and her safety. Rare blood and super-powerful vampires be damned. One of my girls had to survive this ordeal. Whatever became of the blood would be out of my hands once I traded it to the hawkers for Scarla’s return. I had to believe their hatred for the kindred would be enough to keep it from falling into their clawed hands. At least until I could realign and plan to retrieve it.
I was thinking all these things when a movement in the yard caught my eye. I instantly stiffe
ned as a dozen hawkers slinked from the shadowy trees into the clearing. I motioned to Sun who nodded and dashed toward the other window facing the porch. She meshed her slim body against the wall and stole a glance through the curtains, gripping her gun close to her chest as the sound of boots thumped on the porch stairs.
My heart thundered. Sweat pooled across my brow as I scanned the group of hawkers and spotted the tall nasty looking one that had delivered their ransom conditions forty-eight hours ago. He was clad in the same get-up – faded leather and dirty boots. His teeth were like rust between ginger whiskers as he grinned, and he fingered his switchblade as he bounded up the stairs.
He banged on the flimsy door and at the same time, I saw Scarla. My eyes widened as she emerged from the trees with her feet dragging between two male hawkers who gripped her arms. Her pale hair hung over her face that was blotched with angry welts. Her swollen lips fell apart above a bruised jaw while her shredded clothes barely concealed her body.
What the fuck?
Rage took hold. Death was my friend. It was hot steel that claimed my blood and drowned out any coherent thoughts as I grabbed my machete before stomping toward the door and flinging it open to face my enemies. A sinister smile greeted me.
“Right on time.” The gingered hawker gave a wry laugh. His weathered eyes dropped to the machete I gripped at my side. He twirled the switchblade. “What ya think you’re gonna do with that, eh?”
Cut you all to pieces.
“Touch my woman again and you’ll find out, asshole.”
He growled and his eyes flashed at me before he glanced over his shoulder toward his mob. I braced myself and followed his gaze, taking in the leathered men carrying an array of weapons. Some carried swords in worn scabbards that swaddled their waists while others held blades and chains. Two hawkers stood at the foot of the forest doused in the shadows and pointing rifles at me. But it was the gangly looking man holding a hunting knife at Scarla’s throat that really caught my attention.