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I Am Forever (What Kills Me)

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by Wynne Channing




  **Kindle Edition**

  I Am Forever

  Copyright © 2014 by Melissa Leong

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for the inclusion of quotations in review, without permission in writing from the author/publisher.

  Published in the United States of America by Jet & Jack Press

  ISBN-978-0-9881054-2-3

  www.wynnechanning.com

  Copyediting by Marie-Lynn Hammond

  Cover design by Liliana Sanches Davis

  Formatting by Self Publishing Editing Service

  Table of Contents

  Part One

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Part Two

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Praise for I Am Forever

  “A beautiful, action-packed follow up...This is a paranormal romance with blood, self-discovery, power, and all the right kinds of heartbreak.”

  — S.M. Boyce, author of the best-selling Grimoire Saga series

  Praise for What Kills Me

  “Fluid and fast-paced...What Kills Me is to die for.”

  — Thomas Winship, author of Vaempires

  “A thrilling read.”

  — Escaping With Fiction

  “Unique, suspenseful...and laugh-out-loud funny.”

  — Sheri Feikert, book reviewer

  “Fast-paced, action packed, and full of witty dialog, sweeping me up in a mad chase across the globe.”

  — Vicki Essex, author of Her Son's Hero

  For Tiffany

  I stared at my reflection. Dried blood caked half of my face. It snaked down my neck in crusty, lumpy streaks. My shirt, my jeans, and my sneakers looked as if they had been splattered with mud.

  My right arm, from my fingers to my elbow, was painted dark red. It was like a tree branch, the surface of my skin as textured and cracked as bark, my fingers hooked and gnarled like twigs.

  All of it was blood. Sticky. Heavy. And none of it mine.

  I won. I beat the bad guy. So this is what a survivor looks like, I told myself. At least, a very freaked-out survivor who let the bad guys lock her in an empty room.

  “What are you looking at?” Lucas said, breaking my trance.

  “Nothing.”

  I tried to run my fingers through my hair, but it was stuck to my scalp.

  “I look like hell,” I muttered.

  “Well, you’ve been through hell.”

  “Oh, so you agree?”

  He came and stood behind me and peered over my shoulder. “I think this is a good look for you.”

  “Yeah. I’m drop-dead gorgeous.”

  Neither of us smiled. Maybe it was too tense to joke.

  I turned to face him. He too looked like he had been through hell. His green eyes were dull and tired. Rusty stains leaked down his chin from coughing up his own blood.

  “What do you think is going to happen?” I asked.

  “Well, they can’t kill you.”

  How ironic, I thought.

  Since I had become a vampire, the Empress and her monarchy had done everything they could to kill me. They tried to burn me in the sun. The general tried to chop off my head. But somehow, with Lucas, I had survived, only to learn that if I died, every vampire would die with me, connected to me as they were by our blood.

  I scratched my brow, red flakes scattering and falling into my eyelashes. It all seemed so impossible.

  Hours earlier I had stood in the palace’s ballroom, my hand stinging from a cut across my palm and every vampire bowing at my feet as they bled from the same wound. It was surreal.

  But the rapture of victory was fleeting. Confusion and panic washed over the ballroom. The clerics rushed around, arguing among themselves and with the Empress. The noise of everyone speaking at once became an indistinguishable drone. What should we do with the Super Vampire...? Lucas and I angled our bodies toward the exit. I had thought of running at every moment, but I wanted to see how they’d handle me now.

  Finally, Uther, the first vampire I ever trusted, had stepped into our paths. He ushered Lucas and me into this room.

  “We will figure this out, Lady Axelia,” Uther said before the door closed and locked. “You are most sacred to us. I promise, everything will be fine.”

  Hadn’t he promised me something similar when I was first turned? After I drowned to death in the well filled with the blood of their gods? After his page, Lettie, washed me and dressed me like a schoolgirl? What an education that was. But everything after had not been fine.

  How close we all came to the end...Uther, Lettie, Lucas. Everyone would have been killed if I had been killed. I shuddered.

  Looking around the room, there was nothing to fight with. There was nothing to sit on. Just a polished concrete floor, wall-to-wall mirrors, and a black dome camera in the ceiling, staring like a shiny black eyeball. Pacing the perimeter, I slid my fingers along the glass, and Lucas crouched near the door like a guard dog waiting to pounce.

  They’re watching us. These are probably two-way mirrors.

  They would never leave me—the future of their race—alone here unsupervised. They would likely never leave me alone again. Unless, well, they left me alone in a cage.

  “They’ll lock me up,” I said. “Like they did the first vampires. Entomb me alive forever.”

  I imagined them putting me in a bulletproof, transparent case in the ballroom, like some living trophy or a packaged doll. Everyone would stare and point. I imagined myself, at the very least, giving them the finger.

  “I won’t let that happen,” Lucas said. “We’ll escape.”

  “Sure. We’ll just walk out the front door.”

  “I know this place. I snuck in here to rescue you, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah, and I can’t believe you did that. You knew it was suicide, right?”

  “You’re not giving me enough credit. I had a plan.” He rose up from his haunches. “When they brought you here, I made a promise that I would come for you. And I promise you now that we will survive this.”

  He sounded so resolute. Lucas. Always so brave. But I knew better. Everyone that he had ever cared about had died. His father, Noel; his page, Jerome; his sisters; his creator, Nuwa. All he had left was his ex-lover, Samira, and, well, me. Some crazy seventeen-year-old girl who stumble
d into his home and brought chaos.

  But I had brought chaos to the Monarchy too. I had terrified everyone. Tested the power of the Empress. Killed their general.

  I had to remember that I could be brave as well. That I had to be—for us. I’ve been able to fight back. And I will fight again if they try to hurt Lucas or imprison me.

  I stretched my fingers out and then clenched my fists, my nails pressing into my palms.

  “Are you getting ready for battle?” Lucas said.

  “Maybe.”

  “Can you contain it until the enemy comes? Because right now it’s just you and me, and I’m not in the mood to fight you.”

  “You couldn’t take me anyway,” I said, half-joking.

  “Not anymore,” he replied, serious.

  It was true. Lucas said that vampires grow in strength over time. But I was several times more powerful than vampires who had been alive for centuries. Such was another unexpected gift of having fallen into the well—strength, as well as immunity to the sun, and this blood connection with the vampire race. But could I fight my way out of this place?

  When that door opens, anyone in my way dies. If I can get us into the hall, I can fight them a few at a time. They can’t surround us if we’re not in an open space. And they can’t hurt me. They’ll probably try to take Lucas hostage and use him to get me to surrender. That can’t happen. I’ll take someone’s weapon. Lead the way. But if we get outside, what if it’s daylight? Lucas will burn...

  Suddenly Lucas was beside me. He always seemed to know what I was thinking, as if my skin changed color to match my emotions. He touched my elbow. Because of his short brown hair, the patches of blood in his scalp created a camouflage pattern. His black shirt was torn at the chest, and the fabric sagged like a lip where the general had plunged his sword. He had sacrificed so much for me. I pressed my hand to the tear and he covered my hand with his.

  “I won’t let them separate us,” I said. Looking at his mouth, I thought of our kiss. Desperate. Crushing. His blood in my mouth. Horror and romance. How unlikely.

  Before they took us, would I try to kiss him again? Was it ludicrous that I was even thinking of it at a time like this?

  I turned to the mirror and looked into my own amber eyes, as bright as fire. “We won’t be separated,” I told whoever was watching.

  Just then, footsteps and voices approached the door. Lucas put his arm out to sweep me behind him. Instead, I pushed him aside and stepped in front of him.

  This is it.

  Someone opened several locks on the door before it became unstuck and swung inward. There stood Uther with a phalanx of soldiers behind him.

  “Uther,” I said.

  He was smiling. He lifted up the folds of his blue robe and shuffled into the room. He must not have changed his clothing since I’d last seen him—blood from my battle with the general soiled the edges of his robe, and his gold corded belt sagged at his hips. The soldiers, expressionless and focused ahead, did not follow him inside.

  “Lady Axelia.” He sounded relieved to see me. He put his palm to his chest and bowed his head.

  “Uther...”

  “Are you all right, my lady?” he asked, clasping his hands over his abdomen. I glanced at Lucas, then back at Uther’s serene face.

  “What the hell is going on, Cleric?” Lucas snapped.

  Straight to the point.

  “I apologize for leaving you alone here,” he said.

  I pointed at the camera. “We are not alone.”

  “The Monarchy just wants to ensure that you are safe at all times—”

  “Safe from who?” Lucas said.

  “—because you are so very important to us, my lady,” Uther continued. “Thank you for your patience. We simply needed time to restore some order and have a meeting of clerics.”

  I kept a wary eye over his shoulder at the soldiers outside the door. I saw four. But who knew how many more lined the hall?

  Uther followed my gaze. “Don’t worry, my lady. The Aramatta will not enter the room. It is just you and I. No harm shall come to you.”

  “And Lucas,” I said.

  “And the swordsmith,” he said.

  “What’s going to happen?” I asked.

  “Nothing.” He leaned toward me. “You are safe.”

  As a vampire I had learned that those words came with a caveat. You are safe. For now. Actually, more like for five minutes. And then someone else is going to try to hurt you.

  “What do you mean?” I said.

  “We had a conference with Cleric Yuri in Romania about the Sacriva’s prophecies,” Uther said. “He confirmed the readings: ‘A human girl will be reborn a vampire. She will shed the blood of all those who walk in darkness.’” His tone took on an almost musical cadence as he recited the passages in the vampire bible. “‘She will be the first. She will mean the death of all vampires.’”

  “We’ve heard this already,” Lucas said.

  Uther ignored this. “You are our most sacred being,” he said to me. He reached out for my hands and I denied him.

  “You are everything to us,” he continued. “All will protect you and care for you. All will love you and worship you.”

  Is this Bizarro World? Is Uther insane?

  “Worship me?” I heard myself say.

  “That’s...” Lucas began.

  “...ridiculous,” I finished.

  “I know this is difficult to comprehend,” Uther said. Uther, always telling me things that are “difficult” to understand. He had been the one to tell me that I had become a vampire and that I would never see my family again. He had been the one to tell me that no other vampire had ever been created without the permission of the monarchy; no immortal had been born without having drunk the blood of another. “But yes—they will worship you. And love you.”

  “Love me?” His words lit a spark of anger in me. Rage rose up like hot bile. “Everyone hates me. Everyone has been trying to kill me!”

  Uther shook his head, his jowls wagging, his eyes widening. “That was a horrible mistake, my lady. There was widespread panic at your creation. No one could have known the truth. The Monarchy misread the prophecy and reacted out of fear. It upsets me to think about what could have happened if...if you had been harmed.”

  “Yeah, it upsets me too,” I said. I felt a twinge of guilt for my sarcasm. Uther had done nothing but try to help me. He was only the messenger.

  Uther ignored my tone. “Please let the Monarchy rectify its errors.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “Come meet with the Empress. She wants to speak with you.”

  Lucas came up beside me and hooked my arm. He didn’t need to warn me. I was instantly wary. My previous meetings with the Empress had not gone well.

  “Uther, I don’t think...” I began.

  “Please, Lady Axelia. The Monarchy wants to make this right. The Empress herself acknowledges how sacred you are to the race. You will see. Meet with her.”

  “It’s a trick,” I said. “They’re going to lock me up, Uther.”

  “I assure you, the Monarchy has no plans to do that. Please speak with her.”

  Lucas tightened his grip.

  “Lady Axelia, I will accompany you and the swordsmith,” Uther said. “I swear on the Sacriva and on my word as a cleric that no harm will come to either of you.”

  He put his hands out again and I took them. The Empress’s face flashed in my mind; her blue eyes were closed and her hand was pressed to her chest. She had bowed to me, I remembered.

  “Uther, I am trusting you.” I moved in close and dropped my voice. “But if I sense that something isn’t right, if a soldier looks at me funny, if the Empress sneezes, Lucas and I are fighting our way out of here. Tell the Empress that.”

  “No one would dare risk injury to you—and ourselves.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “The Monarchy’s top architect designed this wing,” Uther said as he walked ahead of us. Hi
s voice echoed in the hall, which was as large as a gymnasium.

  My runners, the ones Samira had gifted to me, squeaked on the shiny gray marble floors, and I was struck with the thought that I was too dirty to be walking here. Several fifteen-foot-tall iron sculptures posed in the center of the hall. On either side of us dozens of arched doorways revealed soldiers at the ready.

  “Zee, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Lucas whispered.

  “I know. But what are we going to do?”

  “Leave.”

  “We either leave now or leave later. Either way, they’ll chase us.” I glanced at the soldiers, still as the statues. “I want to hear what she has to say.”

  “Does it matter what she says? We can’t trust them.”

  “I trust Uther.”

  “We’ve trusted the wrong vampires before, and look where that led us.”

  Right. Nuwa. Lucas’s maker had betrayed us to the Monarchy in hopes of ingratiating herself with the Empress.

  “Uther’s not like that,” I said.

  “You’ve only known him for a week.”

  “I’ve only known you for a week.”

  He clucked his tongue.

  “I don’t know why but I know Uther’s not lying,” I said. I knew Uther and the soldiers could hear us, so I added, “Plus if they try anything, we’re gone.”

  “Immediately.”

  “Yes. Should we have a signal?”

  “What?”

  “If I sense trouble, I can pull my ear like this.” I tugged on my earlobe.

  “Just break someone’s neck.”

  “That works too.”

  Uther led us down a flight of marble steps and through several automatic glass doors, where a wall of moisture hit me. The smell of plants and soil was smothering. I no longer needed to breathe as a vampire, but all my senses had heightened. I could inhale to intensify scents and exhale if I wanted to.

  “This is one of the Monarchy’s many botanical gardens,” Uther said as we moved down a dim corridor. Lit panels in the floor made it feel as if we were in a spaceship.

  Uther stopped in front of frosted glass panes. A green lightbulb glowed above a control panel that he flipped open. He pressed a gray button. A buzzer sounded and the glass slid open.

 

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