Silverthorn

by Sydney Bristow

  That meant Darius set them against us without Zephora’s knowledge. I assumed he found it imperative to eliminate the one person who might try to resist Zephora’s efforts, since my sister wasn’t convinced that Zephora’s spirit had slipped into our mother’s body. After all, Alexis had no reason to consider her as anything but the woman she idolized, even if she failed to realize our mother was a demented child abuser who had the same misguided intentions as Zephora.

  The two vamps landed on the floor in front of the stage.

  Just as I finished a line of lyrics, which would lead into a guitar solo, I ran over and kicked one vamp in the head, pitching him backwards.

  He slammed against the railing, pushing it a few feet into the crowd, all of whom jumped back, shocked at the turn of events. But only for a moment. As if thinking this was part of the stage show, they erupted into applause.

  With unexpected speed, the second vamp hurled himself onto the stage, darted up to Nolan, and threw a right fist at his face.

  Nolan barely managed to back away in time and without hesitation, punched the vamp in the nose, knocking him to the ground.

  The crowd whistled and shouted their approval, as though certain that the band had choreographed everything that took place on stage.

  In one sleek move, the vampire shook off a dazed expression, regained his balance, and diverted his path toward Kendall.

  Seeing him approach her, Kendall tried to raise her left hand to defend herself against an attack, but he slammed into her, pushing them both to the ground, the bass guitar eliciting a thrum of sound.

  Kendall squiggled under him. Calling upon adrenaline that built inside her during the show, she somehow scrambled out from under his grasp, swiveled around, and tried to slam the drumstick into his heart, but the vampire tossed her aside before she got the chance. Kendall slid a few feet away.

  Over the years, I’d taught Kendall many defensive techniques, not to mention how to remain calm during a fight, but it took continued practice and dedication to defeat a quicker and stronger opponent. I ran over and grabbed the stick. Hooking my foot under the vamp’s ankle, I swept his leg out from under him. I scampered over, lifted the drumstick, and slammed it into the vampire’s heart.

  The vamp’s body lay still and then…a barely audible poof registered. His body exploded into a cloud of dust that settled onto the ground around her. Zephora’s eternal enchantment had kicked into effect: upon death, every paranormal creature turned to dust to eliminate detection by humanity. I suspected that, having just transformed into a vampire, the man had no idea how to control his newfound abilities, making him both dangerous and prone to both overestimating his own power and underestimating in a fight to the death.

  One more wave of excitement ruptured through the crowd. They jumped up and down, looking left and right, eager to catch every moment of the action occurring before them.

  Another vamp raced toward Kendall, but Nolan swept in front of her and bashed the vampire in the mouth. His velocity, more than the punch, redirected his path. He spun in the opposite direction…toward me.

  I did the only thing that sprang to mind. I slipped the guitar strap off my shoulder, cranked the acoustic behind me, and swung it at the vampire’s head.

  The wood crashed against the vamp’s head, surely doing no damage, but with splintered pieces showering across his field of vision, he slowed down, wincing.

  Seeing yet one more musician destroying her guitar on stage, only to actually do something other than just break a fine instrument, the concertgoers clapped and yelled their approval.

  While he regained his wits, I grabbed the neck of the guitar, clamping down on the six strings that shimmied in every direction to keep them from popping me in the eyes. Just as he veered back toward me, I plunged the neck of the guitar into the vamp’s heart.

  He arched backwards, grabbed hold of the pike in his chest, and screamed. He fell to his knees and collapsed onto his back. He tried to remove the wood from his heart, but his hands were too slick with blood to dislodge the foreign object. A second later, he released a final breath and lay still. Then his body burst into dust, the result of an enchantment Zephora put into place centuries ago to cover up the death of any paranormal creature so that evidence of magical creatures remained non-existent.

  As the residue filtered across me, I realized that the band kept playing. Despite the attack, no one had missed a beat.

  In response, the crowd jumped up and down as if trying to catch every snippet of action on stage. With every glance at the audience, I’d noticed that each person seemed entertained, rather than frightened or worried by what took place. They seriously had no idea that this was not part of our stage show. With the exception of top notch heavy metal bands, who could afford to spend a tremendous amount of money on producing a spectacular stage show that included a variety of lasers and lights, smoke, and even fire, our band wouldn’t come close to making enough from our music in order to afford such a grandiose stage production. Therefore, it shocked me that those in attendance hadn’t given that fact some thought. Perhaps everything happened too fast for them to process things.

  Since I’d forgotten about adding my vocals to finish the song, Nolan had finished his guitar solo and focused on rhythm guitar while holding the microphone stand and singing into the mike. He pointed into the crowd.

  I followed his aim and noticed that the three vamps that had made their way down from the balcony had just leapt over the guardrail. As one, all three swung their heads toward me and glared.

  Those death stares sent my blood pressure rocketing. With the crowd in a frenzy and the band completely in sync while jamming louder and faster than ever before, I couldn’t take on the three vampires that now rushed the stage if they attacked me simultaneously. Only one solution presented itself, one that could vanquish them…or potentially massacre a wide swath of concertgoers. But I had practiced my abilities and trusted my skills in tight quarters, so I followed my instincts and didn’t think twice about making a mistake. That notion propelled a current of heat through my chest. It rushed into my shoulders, and raced down my arms. The pressure hit my wrists and built in my hands.

  Just as they reached the stage and grasped the plank of wood we stood on, I raised both hands. Within that second, I once more considered the crowd and if I missed my target. Nevertheless, if I didn’t respond immediately, the vamps would attack, overpower me, and kill me within five seconds.

  I disregarded my fears and focused on the three vamps. I channeled my power, doing my best to call upon the exact amount of force needed to defeat them. A second later, a stream of flames shot out of my palms and slammed into the three vampires, whose panicked, shrill screams were barely heard above the pounding drums, rumbling bass, and the squealing guitar licks erupting from the PA system behind me.

  The vamps stumbled off the stage and plunged to the concrete, the flames skittering up their clothes, lighting them up.

  This time, the crowd backed up, pressing tight against each other to avoid the three vamps who spun around between the stage and the guardrail, ricocheting off each other like the iron balls bouncing around a pinball machine. As one, the concertgoers grew still. Shocked and confused, they looked on in terror, which prevented them from making a sound or even moving.

  The flames ate away at the vamps and sapped their inhuman power as they crawled along the cement for a few moments before their strength gave out.

  When the vamps finally lay still, Brandon pounded the drums one last time at the same moment Nolan hit his last power chord, the sounds of their instruments stretching across the now silent venue. The vamps ruptured into a curtain of dust before the flames incinerated them.

  As the sound in the amps died, the crowd remained quiet for one second, two, three, four seconds…and then one person clapped tentatively as though unsure if he or she had chosen the appropriate response for what that person had witnessed. A moment later, another person clapped. Then a third. And a fourth
. Someone whistled. It prompted another to shout his approval. A second later, the entire crowd erupted into applause. They pushed the guardrail toward the stage with excitement, obviously thinking that they had just watched the grand finale of an unexpected and spectacular encore.

  Dozens of people still held their phones overhead, having obviously recorded what just took place, others raised their phones as well and snapped pictures of our band.

  My friends flanked me. While our band stood a few feet above the fans that pushed their way up to the stage, we smiled and waved. I glanced at Kendall, who avoided eye contact with the audience by allowing her bangs to shield her face, not yet comfortable with all the attention: she loved playing live and hearing the fans, just not seeing them watching her. Having suffered tremendous bullying as a teenager, she still felt awkward with so much attention. Brandon revealed a wide grin and lifted his arms, twirling his drumsticks between his fingers before flinging them into the crowd. Finally, Nolan, the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes upon—surveyed the crowd with a slight grin, taking in the moment, revealing that the accolades were only a starting point, since he believed our band had the talent to become global superstars.

  I grabbed the microphone. “Thank you, Chi-Town! We are…Salem’s Curse, and we’ll see you next time!”

  It was our first concert as a band. And based on the crowd’s reaction, it might not be our last. The band knew the audience enjoyed our music, since they cheered during and after every song. But were they more excited about the flurry of activity the vampires brought about…or our music? Or was it a combination of the two? I suspected it was the latter.

  Unfortunately, we wouldn’t be able to duplicate this show. Because audience members had recorded what went down, others would check out the footage and, if they ever took in one of our shows in the future, they would expect a similar performance. And when we failed to deliver, many of them would become disgruntled and abandon us.

  At a time where I should want to celebrate surviving the vamp attack, not to mention concluding our first show together, I felt nauseous rather than excited about our future for one reason: it seemed we had peaked as a band. We could only go down from here. The flames that devoured the vamps had also killed my dreams of recording albums and touring the world.

  Over the past few years, I’d forsaken certain foods hundreds of times to improve my voice while keeping it prepped for the dozens of small bars and clubs we’d played in the Chicagoland area. Unlike ordinary college students, I’d leveraged partying, dating, and other fun things in order to spend countless hours sitting alone in my dorm room to writing music and lyrics. In all that time, as our bandleader, I’d promised Kendall and Brandon that we would eventually get a chance to prove that we had great music to offer the masses. Tonight, we were able to make good on that opportunity…until the vampires appeared and put the spotlight, not on our music, but on a spectacle that we couldn’t replicate.

  A huge part of me felt like it had dried up and burst just the like vampires I’d vanquished. Just as tears rimmed my eyelids, a larger portion of my heart became so furious and obstinate at accepting my fate that I wished another set of vampires arrived so I could beat them to a pulp before stabbing each of them in the heart. Regrettably, it seemed they weren’t forthcoming.

  I’d have to settle for killing the person responsible for dashing what I’d hoped would have turned into a long and distinguished career: Darius Coyne. Nothing would stop me from ending his life the way he had ended my dreams.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “That rocked my face!” said Brandon, tapping a new pair of drumsticks against the cinder block walls while our band walked down a hall backstage. “You burnt those vamps like you tossed a pizza into an oven.”

  “That would be a very unappetizing pizza,” Kendall said, cringing with such horror she’d closed her eyes.

  “How did you stay so calm?” I asked. “I know I taught you some fighting skills, but—”

  “Sure, that helped, but I was caught up in the moment…or maybe, kind of, paralyzed with terror.” Kendall bit her lip, obviously ashamed to have admitted that. “But then my marketing and PR mind booted up.” She took her time looking at each of us. “Think about it: our show tonight will be talked about…by everyone who saw it. That’s great word of mouth.”

  “They loved us!” Brandon agreed.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said, trying but failing to reign in my anger and sorrow. “That show?’ We’ll never be able to match it. We’re done!”

  “Why did they attack you in public?” asked Nolan, stopping and curling his palm around my left forearm. He didn’t look angry, just intent on getting an answer. “What aren’t you telling us?”

  Brandon and Kendall stopped and turned toward me for an explanation.

  “I don’t know. If they wanted to leave Chicago, they would have to kill Alexis and Celestina. I guess he wanted me dead, so I couldn’t go after him or Zephora.”

  “But,” Kendall said, stopping and whirling around to approach me. “They were going after you. Why?”

  A couple new ideas came to mind. “Darius knows I’m totally devoted to our band, so why not try to mess things up between us? On stage, we’re in a small, confined area. We had no place to run or hide. And he knows that Nolan is a trillium, so he probably wanted to test his level of strength, so he’ll be prepared the next time he attacks.”

  “Awesome,” Brandon said without enthusiasm. “He won’t stop until we’re dead.” He remained pensive for a moment before quirking an eyebrow with unruly intent. “If the world’s deadliest vampire wants us dead, we need to party like there’s no tomorrow. Time to bust out the Ben & Jerry’s. Who’s with me?”

  Kendall looked me over. “Are you sure, you’re okay?” She continued scanning my body for injuries. Without waiting for an answer, she said, “They must have attacked because you are important. Think about it. Alexis is streetwise. You’re book smart. Put you two together and Zephora has a lot to deal with, especially since she’s over three hundred years old. The world’s a different place now. She’s probably disoriented.”

  “It didn’t stop her from slithering here from beyond the veil.”

  “If she’s so good at strategizing,” Kendall said, “she’d want Alexis on her side because her conscience is as big as an M&M. And since you’re Zephora’s enemy, she wouldn’t want you to turn Alexis against her.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. “But what does being book smart have to do with anything?”

  Brandon tapped his drumsticks against each other. “You can think your way out of situations. You know, thinking outside the box. Alexis? She acts first and thinks of the consequences later.”

  Nolan nodded. “You need brains to beat Zephora. That’s why she wants you dead.”

  Kendall said, “What if one of those vamps shows up with a gun and shoots you in the face?”

  “I don’t think so,” I responded. “There seems to be sort of an unspoken code about using magic when it comes to dealing among their own kind.” Resorting to the violence humans used against each other probably seemed barbaric. Supernatural creatures took pride in honing their abilities, similar to gunfighters in the Old West, and they relied on their magical skill set when it came time for offensive or defensive measures.

  That silenced my bandmates.

  “Zephora knows about your ability. Where did you get it anyway? Have you thought about that? All of these powers came from my family’s line. And that we’re all somehow related.”

  Kendall and Brandon exchanged a glance as deep introspection took hold of them. He clacked his drumsticks together, finding it difficult to control his anxiety. “My grandmother thinks my great-grandfather got cursed eighty years ago or something. Apparently, he rejected a woman, and immediately afterwards, he lost his sight.”

  “I don’t like this,” Nolan said, looking from Kendall and Brandon to me. “These creatures coming after you.” He glanced around him, as though stu
nned that he’d spoken a private thought. “I mean, coming after us.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, pulled in by his concern. “I don’t want them hunting me down either, but I can’t control that.”

  “So we’re in danger?” he asked. “Every time we’re next to you?”

  “Yeah.” I looked elsewhere, feeling like a surfer who just found out that an enormous wave headed straight toward him. Nothing hurt as bad as letting down your friends, except for knowing that because you existed, they were marked for death. “I guess so.”

  Nolan contemplated that for a long moment. “At least now I know to expect the unexpected.”

  “That’s it?” I asked. “You’re not freaked out?”

  “No,” he said, smirking. “That was the best gig of my life. We killed out there!”

  “You mean, I killed out there,” I said with a grin.

  He held my gaze with magnetic eyes. “Yeah, you did.” A corner of his mouth kicked up.

  My thighs quivered at the possibility that he might be interested in me. I couldn’t recall the last time another man intrigued me on a romantic level. Thank God, my friends’ presence saved me from responding.

  “So now what?” asked Brandon.

  “The crowd recorded our show,” I said. “It’ll be on YouTube soon, if it’s not already. Now we’ll be a target.”

  “You mean record labels will come knocking?” Brandon asked.

  “No,” I said as another wave of regret cascading over me. “Vampires will come knocking. So don’t invite them in.”