Paranormal Magic (Shades of Prey Book 1)

by Margo Bond Collins

  Blood. My memory is flooded with images of blood.

  “Yes, beautiful Mia, I’ve made you into a vampire. Now we can be together forever. I’ve freed you from that prison that you called life, and given you this most amazing gift.”

  I stare wide-eyed, trembling from head to foot.

  “Consider it a wedding gift. For we will be married, my love.”

  I try to push away from him. “You’ve destroyed me, destroyed everything,” I gasp.

  His hand, which had once so lovingly stroked the delicate locks of my hair, grips tightly in anger. His face contorts. “I have made you more perfect than you could ever imagine being. I have given you life—real life. A life which we shall share.”

  Fangs slip down from his mouth and I scream out sharply. His hand slaps me hard across my face. I sob in dread as he pushes me against the wall, tiles crumbling behind my back.

  “Now, Mia. Don’t be so ungrateful to your master.” His cloud is no longer purple and grey. It’s red and black, and violent looking. Even its movements seem more aggressive as it dashes backwards and forwards.

  It hits me then, in the midst of this pain and confusion.

  He’s my master!

  “No, no, Mr Breckt. You can’t have…you can’t be. Oh my god, what have you done?” I weep as he presses against me, kissing my neck, his teeth nipping the delicate skin.

  “Why would you do this to me? I don’t understand.” Tears pour down my face. I sniff up and almost choke as the smell of blood hits me. My stomach rumbles in response to it.

  His hand wipes at my face. “Because I wanted you, Mia. That’s why.” His face is serious and cold. His beautiful green eyes, dead of any compassion. “And you shouldn’t waste these. They’re very precious.” I look at his hand. His fingers are stained red. I look down at myself. Once more, his hands skilfully untie the dressing gown I’m wearing.

  It falls open to reveal my body, dressed in the finest of underwear and covered in spots of red. Red that is falling from my eyes. I push past him and run to the mirror to see the horror for all it’s worth.

  Nothing could have prepared me though. No image would ever be able to describe the sight of my own eyes—crying tears of blood. I scream loudly, the blood dripping into my mouth. My fangs slide out at the contact of the blood, and I scream even louder.

  He hugs me from behind, his hands caressing every part of me—his face in my neck, his hands on my breasts, nuzzling and groping and pulling.

  “You are so beautiful. Look at you. Look at how perfect you are. I want you so much,” he whispers into my neck and pulls the dressing gown down off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. I stare at my reflection in horror. Our reflection.

  The repulsion too much for me to take in as my mind attempts to shut down. This is it, this is me now. A vampire!

  Oh god, I think I’m going to throw up.

  With panic rising in my chest, I pull out of his hold and run to the toilet. I slam to my knees and heave into the bowl. My eyes squeeze closed and I grip the sides of the cold porcelain, retching until my throat burns. I feel him beside me without opening my eyes, and he passes me a tissue. I snatch it from him as he flushes the vomit away. My eyes open a split second too soon as the last of the red liquid is swept away and I begin to retch again.

  Of course it was going to be blood. I’m a vampire now. I can’t be sick like a normal person. I shiver, coldness trickling into my bones. My stomach aches now that it is empty. I have a hazy memory of being freezing cold, painfully cold. I stand and push Mr Breckt aside. I need to get dressed; I need some tea to warm me up.

  I pause in my movements. Can I even drink tea now? I shake my head and continue moving, storming into the bedroom to look for my clothes. I’m suddenly self-conscious, standing here with only my underwear and blood for coverage. Mr Breckt’s eyes follow me around the room as I check the wardrobe and drawers, but they are empty of anything useful. The furniture looks old, but well looked after, all barring some fresh gouges on the top of the drawers and a dent in the wardrobe door. My fingers trace the gouge and I realise that my nails fit them perfectly.

  “Don’t worry, Mia. It’s just furniture. It can be replaced.” I turn to look at him. His eyes have clouded over as he watches me.

  “I did this?” I ask quietly, although I know the answer without his reply. My head aches from all the thoughts running around in it. I run my hand across my brow. I need to sit down.

  He nods. “Yes, Mia. But it’s not your fault, you weren’t yourself.” He takes a careful step towards me. “You were in extreme amounts of pain. Pain you are going to experience again if you don’t get something to eat, my love.”

  My love. I shudder again, feeling repulsed by his words—by his affection.

  I look at the scratches on the drawers again. They look like they have been made by a lion, not a human.

  A thought passes through me that maybe he is lying to me, and this is all just a big joke. But I remember the pain. The burning cold. Then there’s the blood tears, and don’t forget the blood sick of course.

  I squirm under my own thoughts. “Where are my clothes?” A chill is working through me. My bones are beginning to ache.

  “Mia…”

  “I want my clothes, Mr Breckt.” I look down at myself. “And my own underwear.”

  He smirks at me. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Robert?”

  “How many times do I have to ask you for my clothes, Mr Breckt?” I reply curtly.

  He laughs loudly. “Your clothes were ruined in the transformation, but I’m sure we can find something for you to wear. The underwear however, stays. For now, at least. As I said, we have some unfinished business to attend to.” He takes another step forward, removing his jacket and dropping it to the floor.

  “What business?” My head is aching, my stomach cramping.

  He looks at me with a lascivious smile. “Really, Mia. Don’t be so coy”

  It dawns on me finally what he’s talking about.

  I watch him undo his tie, leaving it hanging down on either side of his neck. His fingers move to the buttons on his shirt as they slowly unfasten each one. He smiles widely, enjoying his seduction of me.

  “I have been very patient so far.” He lets his shirt fall open, revealing his firm chest underneath. I shake my head at him, my face filled with dread.

  “I don’t want anything to do with you. I don’t want this.” I’m even more self-conscious now as he looks me over. My hands clutch my stomach as pain ripples through it. I gasp at the sharpness of it. He is beside me almost instantly, concern etched across his perfect face. His hand goes to my abdomen, his cold fingers rubbing across my pale skin.

  “Are you okay? Are you in pain?”

  I start to shake my head at him as another wave of pain rolls through me.

  “Aaah,” I cry out.

  He tries to hold me against him, even as I push away. “Mia, now is not the time to fight me.”

  “Get off me, get away from me. Aaahh!” I yell at him as pain rips through me.

  I feel like I have been punched in the gut, and I double over, screaming. His arms lock around me before I fall to the ground. Despite myself, his strength is soothing.

  “Let me help you, Mia,” he begs as I try to push him away.

  I look into his face and see nothing but concern. I nod weakly, letting him wrap my gown back around me. I lean into him, relinquishing my control over to him. For once, without a fight.

  Twenty-Seven

  Mia

  “You need food,” he states matter-of-factly, guiding me gently over to the bed. He sets me at the edge, kneels at my feet, and takes his mobile out of his pocket.

  “She needs food now. Hurry.” He watches me as he talks, his green eyes never leaving mine. He snaps the phone shut and places it on the bed next to me.

  “You will be okay soon, Mia. You are new, so will burn through the blood very quickly. Though vomiting most of it up like
that will not help.” He tuts.

  His eyes slide to my bare thigh as my dressing gown slips to the side. His hand instinctively reaches for it, rubbing up past the tops of the stocking. A crackle of electricity shoots between us, and he growls deeply from the back of his throat. His eyes look back up to mine with a gleam.

  The world throbs around me. The colours, which seemed so intense before, now seem muted. It’s as if someone is washing them away.

  I don’t feel his hand slide down to my calf, cupping my foot as he places it on his own thigh. I don’t feel his strong fingers gliding back up my leg, moving to the knot at my waist as he clumsily attempts to remove my dressing gown. Sounds fade, colours dull, and the world is getting cold. I feel his hands on my skin, stroking up my back to find my bra strap. A sharp knock on the bedroom door snaps us both out of our reverie. His breath has quickened, sharp and shallow, as he moves to cover me back up with my dressing gown.

  “I’m sorry, Mia.” He stands and runs his hands through his hair. “I just, I have waited so long for you. For this.” He gestures to both of us with open arms and gulps loudly as he lets out a shaky breath. His aura is pulsing with a mixture of colours. Judging from the look on his face, he’s in turmoil as to what he wants to do to me.

  There’s another knock on the door, to which we both jump. He chuckles lightly and regains his composure, his mask falling back into place. Retrieving a key from around his neck, he walks briskly to the door, unlocks it, and then returns to my side. I notice that he stands instead of kneels this time.

  Donovan, Mr Breckt’s huge security guard, comes in. Behind him trails a young girl. She cannot be more than eighteen. Her face is pale, her eyes shallow and grey.

  There is almost no aura around her. What is there is faint and grey. She doesn’t look up; her head stays bowed to her chest.

  “Are you kidding me?” Mr Breckt pushes Donovan, slamming him into the wall and nearly knocking the young girl over. “This is what you have brought her?” Mr Breckt’s rage is evident as he spits out his words. However, I’m unsure of what he’s so angry about.

  The pain is increasing with every second. I grip the edges of the bed until my knuckles turn white, gasping through it.

  “She was the closest to hand, Sir.” He pauses, assessing Mr Breckt’s reaction.

  “She is not having your leftovers, Donovan. For you to even suggest such a thing, makes me want to tear your head from your shoulders.” His words are low and threatening. I wouldn’t have thought it possible if I wasn’t seeing it for myself, but Donovan cowers before him.

  “Yes, I’m sorry, Sir. You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  Pain rips through me, my veins filled with antifreeze, slowly poisoning me. Freezing me to death, I scream in agony.

  Mr Breckt’s arms are around me as I collapse to the floor.

  “Bring her now,” he yells, looking up to Donovan.

  I curl up on his knee, pulling my arms and legs into a ball, whimpering to anyone that will listen and taking comfort from him, even though I hate him. The cold, the pain, the daggers of ice, burning through me have reduced me to nothing.

  “Drink, Mia.” Mr Breckt offers the young girl’s neck up to me.

  I look at her ghostly face in horror. “NO!”

  “Mia, you do not have a choice. You will die without her blood. Now drink.” He watches me carefully, and when he sees my obvious reluctance, he grips the girl’s head and bites down on her neck himself. The smell of blood hits me hard, and I struggle to escape from his grasp. He pulls back from her throat, leaving a hole, which flows freely with blood. He spits the unwanted flesh to one side.

  “Drink now, Mia,” he says matter-of-factly as blood drips from his chin.

  I shuffle farther backwards, even as my stomach grumbles and aches. The smell of it is so pungent in the air that I feel dizzy. “No,” I hiss out between clenched teeth. My fangs have dropped down, betraying my thirst for her. For her blood.

  He drops her body to the floor and drags me by my legs, over to her limp body. I kick out and scream, biting at his hands. “No, no, let go, I won’t do it.” I yell as he shoves my face into the blood pumping from her wound, and I gargle and choke on it.

  He keeps my face pressed into the blood even as it fills my nose and mouth. I choke on it while clawing at him and I kick my legs out behind me as I fight to free myself from his grip. However as the first drops of blood mercifully hit my stomach, I feel almost delirious with elation and I gasp at the pleasure. The fighting stops, and drops turn to gulps as I taste her truly. Something leaves me, something important. I feel it vanishing with every swallow, yet right now I don’t care. Her blood is all I need, nothing else could be as important as this—as drinking every drop that is in her.

  The warmth of the girl’s body stays pressed against my face, her blood like lava as it singes my insides. I gulp it down greedily, drinking until she is empty and then I look up with pleading puppy dog eyes.

  “More, please.”

  “That’s my girl.” Mr Breckt smiles affectionately at me. “Donovan, go get another. A fresh one,” he warns.

  “Yes, Sir.” Donovan turns to leave, but I am hardly aware of his absence as I continue to lick the girl’s face and neck of any remaining blood. Deep down I know it’s wrong, but that part is buried so far inside me that I may never find it again. I don’t care who this girl was. I don’t care what she wanted from life, or who she loved. I don’t care who will miss her. I only care that her death has stopped my pain. That her death has given me life.

  And what a wonderful life it is, I think to myself as Donovan returns with another girl for me.

  I stand and smile at her. Her fear pumps from her in dark grey waves, her eyes widening as I come closer. I lick my lips appreciatively.

  She smells delicious. I grab her without a second thought.

  *

  Distant sound rouses me. A tap from somewhere. I sigh contentedly and turn over, letting my face sink into the soft, feathery pillow once more. I was dreaming of something. Of someone. We had been so happy. We had been singing together on stage. It had been such a beautiful song.

  Tap…

  My eyes open. The room is dark, but I can see clearly enough. I sniff quietly. There is someone here. Someone I don’t recognise. I sniff again. I can smell something bitter and musky. I’m unsure how I know this, but I know that the smell is eagerness and determination; it’s the only thought that jumps to the forefront of my mind. It’s rolling off them in waves as they come closer to the bed. I spring up a moment too late—as a bag covers my face and I’m hit hard on the back of the head.

  The world goes black.

  *

  I rub the back of my head as I come to. There is no mark, no bump, and no pain. Instinct alone makes me rub the place where it should be tender. My stomach aches again. The pain is dull for the moment. I sit up and assess where I am.

  “You’re awake!” A small man, with a full head of platinum blonde hair smiles wildly at me. He claps his hands together twice and a light comes on above us and I wince from the sudden brightness.

  “Sorry. The sooner you get used to all of this though, the better.” He moves over to a tall dresser at the back of the room and pours a drink for himself. I smell it before he has even finished pouring. Blood. I stand and growl. Instincts take over once again, and I lunge for the drink.

  I make it halfway across the room before someone’s arms grip me and slam me to the floor. I roll to my side, crying out in pain and looking for whoever just hurt me, but I can’t see anyone else.

  “Sorry about that, my dear. Probably best if you stay away from the red stuff for a few minutes, whilst we talk,” he says almost apologetically. Almost. I look up from my back at a man standing over me. He watches me intently as I roll over and stand back up. I should be embarrassed, but I only care about the blood. I want it.

  “We can’t talk until you calm yourself,” he says from his place by the corner
. My head is spinning with the scent of the blood. “And until we talk, you can’t have the blood.”

  A growl erupts from the back of my throat, and I jump at the sound. My hand touches my mouth, as if to hold the sound in.

  “Calm yourself.” He says darkly.

  I swallow and take a deep breath as I sit on the bed again. “What do you want with me? What am I doing here?” I look about. “Where is here?” I try to ask as calmly as I can, but it still sounds shaky and anxious even to me.

  “That’s a lot of questions, and we’ll get to all that. First, though, let us get the introductions out of the way. My name is Mr San, and I’m here to help you.”

  I look quizzically at him. “Help me? I’m not aware that I need saving.”

  “Yes. You do.” He smiles. “Well, you did. We rescued you.”

  “Oh.”

  He takes a sip of the blood as he mulls over his next words. I can sense he’s trying not to get cross with me.

  “I see that you still don’t remember very much.” He puts the glass down.

  Now that I think about it, I don’t remember anything. I know this should frighten me, but it doesn’t. I don’t care about anything.

  I just want that damn blood.

  “Okay. Let’s try a different approach. Let’s talk about, Mr Breckt.” He rubs his hands together as he sits down on a little chair. “He’s the one who started all this mess after all, he needs to be held accountable.”

  My mind fishes for an image of Mr Breckt, but I come up blank and shrug.

  “Mr Breckt your maker? The Bastion?” Mr San watches me impatiently.

  A Bastion?

  I notice he’s staying in the shadows, keeping his distance from me. I also notice the fog that surrounds him, an aura. Red and yellow colours dash about him wildly. The more I notice them, the more clearly I see them. He must know I see something, as he looks about himself and huffs.

  “Mia, where are you? Come back to me. This is important.” He looks about himself again and tuts. “And that…is incredibly rude of you,” he huffs and comes out of the shadows.