by Elle Klass
The group stood in the doorway. The wooden kitchen floor slanted at a downhill angle. “Stop. We don’t all have to go in there. I can teleport.”
“We don’t have Rodham. We can’t communicate without him. We can’t pull you out if you run into trouble,” voiced Alison, her voice cracking in fear.
Lacey, the voice of reason suggested, “If you go in alone, if you find Rodham, can you get him out? We haven’t heard him, so there’s a possibility he’s knocked out or…”
“We need to stick together,” Alison interrupted, unwilling to hear more speculation on Rodham’s fate.
Adrian let go of Alison’s hand and raked his own through the chunk of dark hair covering his eye. “I can do this.” As quick as the words left his mouth, he disappeared in a flash of light.
“Arr…” grumbled Alison, kicking the cement beneath her feet.
“We can’t get there as fast but if we slide across the floor, we can get down there.” Lacey squeezed Alison’s hand. “And I can move objects.”
Alison twisted her mouth and bit her bottom lip. “Let’s go.”
Sliding on their bottoms, they skated across the floor, their swords tucked beside their legs. Lacey, in front of Alison, their hands still clutched, used her free hand to grasp the wooden frame of the hall and she skimmed towards it. Alison slid past her, and around the corner of the hall. She pushed her foot out in front of her, stopping her momentum, then stuck her other foot against the opposite wall so her legs formed a V.
The long downward slope of the hallway was dark and menacing. Neither knew what lay at the end. Alison scooted one foot against the baseboard, then the other while wiggling her butt. She continued this while Lacey did the same until they reached the room at the end of the hall.
Alison, in front, reached for the doorframe with her vacant hand and pulled while scooting against the floor, using her feet for leverage. Soon both girls were inside the bedroom. The floor tilted towards them making it easier to walk. They padded against the wall, one step at a time, until the only thing separating them from the underground was the stairs.
Peering into the black nothingness, their Slayer light offered enough glow for them to see the stairs had shifted and fallen. Alison stared at the expanse beneath her and a quiet moan echoed towards them.
“Do you hear that?” Alison asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lacey nodded.
“Wait, is it Rodham and Adrian or a Bloodseeker?”
Lacey scrunched her eyes and, without answering Alison’s question, said, “I can get us down there. Don’t let go of my hand.” She closed her eyes, and focused.
“Lacey, what are you do-o-ing?” asked Alison, as her body lifted off the ground and floated in the air above the fallen stairs.
A proud grin spread across Lacey’s face. “We have to get down there, whatever it is.”
Alison scrunched her eyes shut. She’d never been fond of heights and couldn’t watch her body drift several feet above solid ground. Feeling weightless, she hovered. Even with her eyes closed, she felt her body sinking into the smelly air. Instead of Bloodseeker pheromones, the smell of burnt flesh drifted up her nostrils.
One of her feet landed on the ground, then the other. She let out a sigh as she opened her eyes, Lacey standing beside her. The moan sounded again. Their eyes met as each pointed beneath the stairs.
A glow from across the room caught the corner of Alison’s eye. She pulled Lacey’s hand to get her attention and pointed. An emerald glow radiated, then the moan sounded again. Unsure what to do, Alison’s instinct was to find the moan and come back for the amulet.
Lacey let go of her hand and with her eyes told Alison to chase the amulet. One cautious step at a time Lacey walked towards the moan, louder with each step she took, until she saw someone slumped over a pile of fallen debris. Squinting her eyes in the darkness, she shone her amulet towards them and gulped when she recognized Adrian.
His chest lay across a pile of debris and straight, dark tufts of his hair fell across his cheek. She’d recognize him anywhere.
Wiggling her fingers, she scattered the obstacles in her way and reached for him, grasping his hand as she pulled her body over his and whispered, “Adrian, Adrian.”
His face tilted towards her as he stared into her blue eyes filled with specks of Beryl sunshine. “Laa-cey?”
“Yes.” She snaked her arm around his middle, pulling him off the rubble and setting him beside the wall.
He spoke for a minute before the sound caught up to his mouth, “Rodham… is under… the pile.”
She eyeballed the mound of fallen two by fours and, one by one, moved them out of the way until she could get to him. Pressing two fingers against his neck she checked for a pulse. Then it hit her - Adrian wasn’t glowing! And their bodies hadn’t sparked with a volt of electricity when she touched him.
She jerked her head back and scanned the room. The emerald glow was still emanating from across the room but Adrian’s Indigo-infused white light was nowhere.
“Looking for this?” came a voice, and out of the shadows walked a girl, no older than she. Her silver hair fell across her shoulders in loose waves, and violet eyes peered from beneath thick bangs. In her hand she dangled Adrian’s amulet. Lacey knew instinctively that she was a night witch.
“That doesn’t belong to you,” insisted Lacey.
“Now it does.” She clucked her tongue. “Oh, I’m keeping the green one too. What the…!” The silver-haired witch screamed as Rodham’s amulet flew through the air towards Lacey. “You can’t have that!” Curling her fingers she fought against Lacey, the amulet hanging in the air between them.
Alison
Alison spied Rodham’s amulet, flung across the ground, its silver chain coiled loosely above a mound of ash. Eww, gross, dead Bloodseeker, she mumbled in her brain as she leaned down and reached for it. A crack in the frame of the house caught her attention. Instead of grabbing the amulet, she felt along it. It didn’t feel solid. She pushed and it gave a little, dirt crumbling through the crack, then a familiar voice from across the room stopped her mid-movement. “Looking for this?”
The witch of the night, Veronica’s nabber. And Lacey. The emerald glow lifted above her head and floated across the room. She couldn’t let her have it and had to help her fellow Slayers. Sighing, she slipped along the wall as quietly as possible, hoping for the element of surprise.
Trapped in a battle of magic, the amulet swayed in the air, edging closer to the witch, her power stronger. Lacey didn’t give in. She concentrated with every ounce of power surging through her. Alison’s red light glowed as she drifted towards them, Lacey trying to hold on until she got there to help.
Adrian stood and lunged for his amulet. The witch moved her hand and he lunged towards her middle. “Silly boy. I told you it’s mine!” She held her hand in front of her chest, forming an invisible barrier and Adrian fought against it, giving up when he realized he didn’t have the strength.
That second that the witch shifted concentration allowed Lacey to get the upper hand. The amulet suspended, almost in arm’s reach.
“Not so fast. I want them both.” As the words left her mouth, a silver sword, with a shining garnet handle, slashed towards the witch, catching only air as she vanished with both amulets.
“And I’d take yours, but I don’t feel up to the fight today,” echoed through the room.
Alison sheathed her sword as Lacey collapsed to the floor. Adrian and Alison dashed to her side. Adrian, reaching her first, cradled her in his arms. Alison tripped a few paces from Lacey and fell onto her lap. Familiar sparks ignited her body as electricity rushed through her veins.
A long, muscular body lay to her left, level with her eyes. “Rodham!” She crawled to his side, folding her arms around him. A slight tingle, only a fraction of what she should feel, rushed through her. “She has your amulet. I’m sorry.”
Her lips brushed across his, tears falling across her cheeks, dropping
onto Rodham’s face. “I’m so sorry. I tried. Lacey tried.”
His body shifted beneath her and a silent moan escaped his lips. She kissed him again and an arm snaked around her back while his lips met hers. As her tongue mingled with his, she felt happy he didn’t have his amulet. Then slapped herself mentally for her selfish thoughts.
She looked towards Adrian and Lacey - who was waking up - then to Rodham as he lifted his torso upwards, leaning on his elbows.
“We need to get out of here and I think I know how. The foundation is cracked, but there’s a gap. If we work together and use some of the busted wooden beams we can get out of here.”
Chapter 19
Her head against the window, Alison stared at the trees and houses as they drove home. They managed to break the wall enough to find a hidden staircase taking them upwards to the ground. It was worn and rickety, probably a part of the original house, but they climbed the stairs one person at a time. After a short breather, they walked to Rodham’s car.
Lacey, still weak, rested her head against Adrian in the backseat. Rodham kept his eyes on the road, except split-second glances to Alison.
The darkness was quickly becoming light as dawn approached. Exhausted, nobody said a word with their mouths, they spoke with their eyes instead.
One by one, Rodham dropped everyone off. The last stop, home for him and Alison. He turned the corner to the apartment complex and they roared past Alison’s apartment. She noticed the light was on and never felt happier to be home.
Thank you for reading The Vampires Next Door, Book 1 of The Bloodseekers. The story doesn’t end here. Follow the link to purchase The Monster Upstairs and The Ghost Within.
Don’t leave yet! Stay tuned for Isandro Volume 1 of the hidden journals.
Isandro
Volume 1 of hidden journals
Chapter 1
“In here,” I whispered, careful my mother didn’t hear. I pushed against the heavy wooden door engraved with intricate curves and grooves. The sweet, earthy scent of my father’s cigars moved through my nostrils and I inhaled deeply. I always loved the smell and it made me feel safe.
Thick tufts of chestnut hair bounced as Arthur scooted into the room.
“Where is it?” asked Lawrence, his blue eyes searched the large room, studying the walls of leather-bound books and the thick cypress desk.
I swished my mouth to the side in thought. “It was over there yesterday, but I know he hides it.”
Arthur leaned his back against a bookcase. “I think you’re bluffing.”
“No, no it was here,” I pleaded. Arthur and Lawrence had never really been my friends. They spent their days bullying and harassing me. When I spotted the silver sword with the orange stone in its handle I thought maybe they’d accept me, stop pestering me.
I pulled out the top drawer of the desk in search of a clue, anything to tell me where the sword was. My father spent a lot of time at his desk when home. Something had to be here. When I found nothing I pushed the drawer back in, lowered myself, and studied the underside.
“It’s not here,” Lawrence stated mockingly. “Let’s get out of here.”
Arthur grabbed the shelf behind his neck and curled his fingers beneath it. A clink followed by clunking and grinding stemmed from the bookcase behind him. His eyes widened. “I... I think I did that. There was a flaw in the wood and I pushed it.”
We stared as the grinding continued and the wall behind Arthur opened, slowly. Our eyes grew wide when it came to a stop, revealing a hidden corridor.
Lawrence shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his ginger hair. “A secret room.”
I gulped. I didn’t know it was there. This was my father’s study; even my mom never entered. I’d surely get a lashing if my father knew I was here. I stalked towards it, my heart beating quick and breaths shortened.
The corridor was dark, only the sun’s rays from the window of the study offered any light. The floor was wooden, the same as the house. Stone -- one stacked on the other -- made up the walls.
Arthur joined me and stared into the hidden area. Our feet at the doorway. “What do you think is in there?”
“I... I... don’t know,” I answered.
“I dare you to go inside.” Lawrence pushed me from behind and I nearly stumbled into the dark area.
“Isandro!” my father called. Panic hit me in the gut.
I turned on my heel. “We need to close this now or we’ll all be in trouble.”
“How?” asked Arthur with a shaky voice.
My father was a large, muscular man who was steadfast and firm. Not a person anyone messed with. “Find the flaw and push it or pull it.” Anxiety roiled inside me. My father’s heavy steps echoed in my ears. It was all I could hear.
Arthur’s hands fumbled along the bookcase, searching for whatever triggered the door to open. I joined him frantically searching.
“I got it,” Arthur said in a loud whisper. My father’s footsteps closer. He pushed against it. The creaking started and then we shot out of the way as the door closed.
“What are you doing in here?” asked my father from the doorway. He searched our faces with a stern eye that shifted from one of us to the next. His jaw straight, which meant nothing good.
The wall only closed into place seconds before he appeared in the doorway. Does he know? Did he hear it? I swallowed hard, fear sinking into my gut. Think, think, I urged myself. If I didn’t come up with something quick I’d be in for more than a lashing. Then I spotted the carved boat I’d made my father. It sat on the corner of his desk. I ran to it and grabbed it, “I wanted to show them this.”
The tension in the room built up over an extra-long moment then my father’s lips curled in a smile. My heart and guts righted themselves. “Now they’ve seen it. Time for the boys to go home. Isandro, you have studies to catch up on.”
We nodded in unison and released the breaths we were all holding. My father didn’t appear to notice. I walked them outside.
“That was better than a sword. Everyone has one of those, but nobody else has a secret room in their house,” Lawrence said with bright eyes filled with curiosity.
“We have to come back, explore it,” stated Arthur as if he had nerves of the toughest metal. The scare over, he was ready for another rush.
I shook my head. “No, we can’t do that. Today was close, next time we get caught and I don’t want a lash from my father.”
Lawrence stepped forward and stood within a few inches of me. “You say that now but you’ll get curious and when you do we’re sending you in to explore.” His words lingered in the air between us almost as if they were a threat.
I gulped and shifted, trying not to let him feel my fear. Lawrence was two years my senior and stood a full foot taller. I backed away then turned and ran up the front steps to the porch. Without looking back, I scrambled inside the house and to my room. I was in such a hurry I didn’t look where I was going and ran smack into my father.
“I’m sorry, Papa,” I stated, adjusting myself and studying my shoes to avoid meeting his eyes.
My father lifted my chin and narrowed his deep brown eyes as he stared into mine. “Were they impressed with the boat?” I heard the undertones of suspicion in his voice.
“Yes, Papa,” I said, unable to hide the anxiety in my voice.
“Have they threatened you?”
“No, Papa.” Guilt riddled me. I shouldn’t have been snooping to try and impress Arthur and Lawrence.
My father wrapped a thick arm around my shoulder and squeezed. “You would tell me if they did?”
I nodded. My father knew I was lying. I felt the tension in his arm and the pressure of his hand squeezing my shoulder.
“Nods are not words. What do you say?”
“Yes, Papa. I would tell you.” I’d never lied to my father, yet here I was, lying.
“To your studies,” my father said and released his grip, dropping his arm.
I couldn’t concentr
ate on my studies. The study and my father’s words replayed in my head. I didn’t ever want to see the room again, but that was the least of my problems. At school I had to face Arthur and Lawrence. They were older and larger. My mind worked out an avoidance plan. If I stayed in the school house helping the teacher I wouldn’t have to go outside and face them. After school I’d move through the trees, hiding. It would take longer to get home but was worth the effort.
My mouth parched from worry I slipped to the stairs then stopped when I heard my mother speak my name. Curious, I stepped away from the stairs and drew closer to their room.
“He’s nearly twelve. What is an extra few weeks?” said my father in a tone I recognized as the one he used when he laid down the law.
“Not yet. He’s not ready.” My mother scowled.
My father cleared his throat. “How do you know? I say he is. It’s time.”
Footsteps moved across the wooden floor and I stepped backwards into the guest room, keeping my head at the doorway to listen. When they came out I’d simply pull my head in like a turtle.
“Isandro shows no signs. It doesn’t fall to all offspring, one sibling may have it while another does not,” my mother’s words sharp enough to cut through metal.
“I won’t push this yet, but soon,” my father said, heavy footsteps paced towards the door then stopped. “You saw what happened when he was born. Don’t blind yourself now. I can find him a teacher other than his mother.” The door creaked open.
I drew my head inside the room as my father pushed the door open. My back against the wall and brain a swirl of confusion. They were talking about me. What do I need to be ready for? What don’t I show signs of?