Death Awakening (The Society Series)

by Mason Sabre

  She cut the top off the third bag and poured it into the empty glass. She would drink this one slower, taking her time to top up the last of what she needed.

  She thought she had read somewhere that giving someone in shock a hot drink was the thing to do. Or was it? Did you give them a cold drink and avoid something warm? She had no bloody idea. Maybe it was tea? Sweet, warm tea? She could do that.

  She turned on the drinks machine on the counter, set a cup under it and pressed tea. Did the girl like milk and sugar? It didn’t matter. Yvette pressed the button for milk and two sugars. That was enough. She put the cup on a tray, dug out the first aid kit from the cabinet behind the door, and let herself back into the bar.

  The girl was slumped over on her arms on the table. Shit. Yvette raced over to her, dumping the tray down and pushing the girl’s head back. Her eyes were unfocused, vacant, but she wasn’t dying. She picked the cup up and placed it to the girl’s mouth. “Drink,” she said. “It’ll help you feel better.”

  The girl leaned against Yvette’s hand, and her tangled hair fell back, revealing a small wound on her neck.

  “God, no.” The girl had been bitten. Yvette scowled. “You need to hold this cup and drink. Do you hear me?”

  The girl’s half asleep eyes tried to focus on Yvette.

  “Grab the cup,” Yvette demanded.

  She raised weak hands and cupped the sides of the mug with Yvette’s guidance. They got the tea to the girl’s mouth, and when she started to drink, Yvette let go and opened the kit. She pulled out some antiseptic and water mixed together, which they used to clean out wounds. Yvette squeezed the bottle, dumping some of the liquid onto the cuts on the girl’s throat. Whatever had cut her had not done it kindly, or even in the right place. It was a smash and bite kind of mark. It looked as if someone had tried to grab her and bite her and she had pulled away before they managed to do much harm. The wound was bleeding, however, which meant the saliva of whatever had bitten her was in her system.

  Fuck.

  The cup slipped from the girl’s hands, spewing tea everywhere, splashing up her bare and bloodied legs. Even though the hot tea had turned the girl’s skin a hot pink, she didn’t even flinch. Her sights were set on the glass of blood sitting on the table.

  Yvette froze.

  There was now no doubt in her mind that a vampire had done this to the girl. But attacking a Human and drinking their blood was a violation of the law. Who would show such blatant disregard for their society’s decree? With everything in her mind telling her that this was a fucking bad idea, she pushed the glass towards the girl. What if this had been Mindy? What if someone just let her daughter die instead of giving her the blood that would likely save her life? This girl was someone’s daughter. The girl took the glass and brought it to her lips. Almost in the same way that Yvette had done before, she gulped it down, with as much effort as someone who was famished. When the glass was empty, she wiped her mouth across the back of her hand and let the glass slip to the floor.

  “I’m so thirsty,” she said breathlessly. She pressed her hand to her mouth, ravenously licking the blood droplets up.

  “Tell me what happened,” Yvette urged her, desperate to know who had done this to the girl.

  The girl angled her head, her eyes clearing. “What am I doing here?” Recognition slowly dawned on her as she stared at Yvette. She cowered in her seat, her hand going to her head where she had a cut on her forehead. "What did you do?"

  Yvette sat back, her hand rising in a gesture of amiability. She didn’t want to set this screaming and crying business off again. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  The girl’s eyes moved frantically from Yvette to the door. “He …”

  “Tell me what happened. I can help you,” Yvette said quickly before the girl lost this lucid moment. “Tell me.”

  The girl’s eyes welled as she recalled what she had run from. “We went to the Hill.”

  “Up the Hill? The Hill?”

  The Hill was the place, the cemetery, that held Others. Masses and masses of Others. One of the only graveyards that existed. It had soon been found that burying Others was not such a good idea. It attracted ghouls—the vampires of the dead, creatures walking the earth that were far worse than the creature that had gone into the ground.

  No one went to the Hill. No one. Not inside it nor along it. It was the place of campfire stories, the thing that seemed to grow more grotesque with each new generation. It wasn’t destroyed because it was cursed—that was the rumour at least. So it was closed off, left, and only idiots would dare to go there. Idiots like these.

  “We just wanted to see.”

  Stupid girl. “See what? Ghouls?”

  “No. We went to the middle. We stayed on the path.”

  The middle? Yvette’s blood ran cold from it, her stomach twisting. Shit. The middle. The man. The legend. Encased in silver and iron. Held down fast. No one could get to him. He was dead. He was the cursed one. The rotting corpse that made his line decay. He’d been killed and cast in his tomb forever. Yvette cursed him every day for his stubbornness. The only thing left of him now was dust and a fading line of vampires—vampires like Yvette. “Tell me what happened in the middle?”

  The girl leaned forward, head in her hands. Yvette couldn’t tell if she was crying or not.

  “Tell me.”

  “We opened it. Ryan … he opened it,” she whimpered, shaking her head. “We opened it. We …”

  “You opened the tomb?” Yvette tried to keep her cool, but what the hell? Who in their right mind opens that tomb? “Are you a bunch of fucking morons?”

  “We didn’t mean to,” the girl blubbered, looking up at Yvette with bloodshot eyes. “We just wanted to see.”

  “You didn’t mean to open it?” Yvette repeated, trying to contain her ire.

  “No …” The girl’s face was streaked with bloody tears. She was turning. She no longer cried tears, but her own blood. “We were just looking, then Ryan … he tried the door.”

  Yvette drew in a calming breath. “Then what?”

  “It c-came open. His ring ...” The girl’s eyes went wide, the story playing in her head as she sobbed out parts of it. “It was like fire. He couldn’t get it off. It burnt through his finger.” She shook her head. “His arm came off.” She pulled at her own arm, demonstrating. “Arms can’t come off, can they?”

  “Then what? What about the others?” They were dead—Yvette was sure—but she had to ask. She also still had no idea who it was that was responsible for it all. Probably some wayward vampire who had found refuge up in the isolated graveyard?

  “They’re g-gone. They’re all gone,” she wailed. “Don’t let him get me.”

  They both jumped as the door to the bar from the kitchen opened. Raven came in and Yvette had never been happier to see him. “There is blood all out back and it stinks like someone puked up a week’s worth of shit.” His eyes zeroed in on the girl and he breathed in deeply, taking in the air. “I assume this would be the reason?”

  “She ran into me out back,” Yvette said. She quickly relayed all that the girl had told her. “I need to go to the Hill,” she said when she was done.

  Raven crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t let you do that. Troy would have my arse.”

  “I have to. She’s been bitten. Whoever did this might still be there.” She glanced down at the girl, pity filling her chest. “He has to finish what he started, or she will not cross over properly. She’ll become a ghoul.”

  A tick worked in Raven’s jaw. “Vet …”

  “I know what I am doing. I just need to go. I have to—for her. We have till dawn, and then she is lost. You stay here and look after the girl. I will go.”

  Raven blocked her path. “No. I’ll go find the piece of shit. It’s not safe for you.”

  Yvette sighed inwardly, curbing her annoyance. It was bad enough she had Troy and his overprotectiveness to deal with, but she had Raven to contend with, too. Oth
ers were ferociously protective over the females in their inner circle of friends and family—dominant Others being the worst—and while she felt grateful for the fact that she happened to be one of the few that Raven had allowed into his circle, she was also perfectly capable of looking after herself.

  “Raven, you and I both know that it is safer for me to go up there than it is for you. We’re most likely dealing with a rogue vampire who will attack you on sight. He had no qualms about breaking laws and biting Humans, so he’ll have none about Others. Chances are the outcome will be that either he ends up killing you, or you kill him, none of which are thrilling options for me.” Yvette was willing to bet her money on Raven, of course, but she needed that vampire alive. He needed to finish what he had started, or the girl would die. “You also need to keep in mind that while you’re fighting this vampire—whoever he is—the ghouls that inhabit the place will smell fresh meat and will be on you in a matter of seconds. You’ll be alone against an army. And even if the vampire doesn’t succeed in killing you, and nor do the ghouls, he’d have had his chance to escape while you fend them off. Then we’ve lost him forever—and the girl dies.”

  Raven scowled at her, clearly displeased with her irrefutable logic.

  “They can’t hurt me. I’m a vampire—lifeless. They can’t drink from me. I’m our surest bet of finding who did this to her and persuading him to come and turn her before it is too late.”

  “I’m not letting you go up there alone. You want this damned vampire? Then you wait for me to call Troy so he can go up there with you.” He turned and headed for the phone, and Yvette seized the opportunity to slip out the door.

  Chapter Three

  The Hill wasn’t that far from Raven’s bar. Just another spot on the horizon that the Humans tried to ignore and the children built up horror stories about—tales passed down through generations, each one worse than the last. A little more gore, a little more death, and the more fear Humans bred into each other, the bigger the hatred tore a rift between Humans and Others.

  It wasn’t that hard to spot the path the girl had taken when she was running away. It also was a damn good job that the Humans kept away from this place. Yvette found the girl’s missing shoe, broken and torn, perhaps yanked from her foot as she ran. Bloody footprints paved the way between the gate and the hill itself. This hadn’t been ghouls—the tell-tale signs were missing. They wouldn’t be bothering Yvette, anyway. She wasn’t dead or alive enough for them to want her blood—vampire blood was poison to them. She would be able to hear them, but the place was dark and silent. Maybe a little too silent. Maybe anything with any sense was keeping a distance. There was no need for ghouls to be here; all the bodies were rotting or nothing but bones left. They only used this place as somewhere to skulk. It was completely rundown and dilapidated. Years of neglect had seen to that. Even the words on the few headstones that remained intact had faded long ago.

  The actual hill was a mound in the centre. Right at the top stood a tomb—the tomb. It was a mausoleum designed to look beautiful—to make death look beautiful—but inside was the body of one who had never been that. Linchpin of their kind—and a killer. He had slaughtered many, taken much for himself, and now lay rotten, cast inside these stones and silver. A fitting death for him, perhaps. Just a shame that his decease meant the demise of his line. If Yvette had known the fate of her vampiric line before she had chosen to be turned, she might have reconsidered, or at least found someone else to do the task.

  The graves around it had been overtaken by weeds, while ivy climbed up the imposing pillars. This place held all kinds of ancestors—many Others could probably trace their lines back to here. There was a stone bed to the side boasting four posts at each corner, the carvings on it displaying the most divine place to slumber. Every detail was perfect. The pillars held the names of those inside—an entire family. This was the original family that began the Fae, the daughter to the queen, her husband and their children, the four of them slaughtered one night so very long ago.

  Yvette pushed the rusted gate open, careful not to knock it off its hinges as it creaked its complaint. The reckless friends had ignored the warning signs on the outside and cut the chains on the gate that held it locked and closed—no doubt the signs and chains were the only thing to have ever been replaced, taken down and new ones put up each year so that the message never faded. This was not a place to be entering, and those kids had been foolish to ignore it.

  As the mausoleum came into view, Yvette realised that the door was hanging off its hinges, held on only at the bottom. Only someone really stupid would go there for shelter. Shit, even the homeless left this place alone. Too many stories, too many fables of woe, to risk it.

  The path leading up to the hill was flanked with tall, wild grass, but the four must have hacked their way through the undergrowth covering the pathway to get to the centre. God, what had they been thinking? Senseless, foolhardy kids. Why? Why would they come here knowing the danger that lurked within? Yvette bent to inspect the slightly trodden grass and the leaves at the side that dripped with blood. There was so much of it—this couldn’t be the girl’s. Yvette dipped her fingertips in it and brought it to her mouth. Pissed up kids. Definitely.

  She followed the trail of blood up the path and stopped where it pooled at a point. Yvette parted the tall grass. “Guess the council haven’t bothered here for a while,” she murmured to herself. If anyone had any sense, they would have dug the place over years ago. Turned it into some kind of landfill. That was all it was good for. Images of that film from the eighties ran through Yvette’s mind. The one with the girl and the television, where her house turned out to be buried on old sacred ground that was filled with bodies.

  Yvette carried on moving forward, keeping her eyes and ears trained, ready for any sudden movement. She stopped just at the start of the steep incline that led to the peak of the hill.

  The scent of blood was everywhere, but it emanated sharp and potent from the summit. Thank God she had drunk at Raven’s bar. This much blood, such a strong scent, someone was hurt badly and there was no way in hell they were getting up from it, even if they were still alive.

  The girl had said that someone’s arm had come off. It was going to be a mess up there. A big fucking shit load of a mess. Yvette wasn’t a coward, though. Shit, she had faced worse than this in her life. She stared up the hill and blew out a breath. “It’s just blood. Just blood. And maybe a dead body or two.”

  She had left the gate open, but maybe she should have closed it. The last thing she wanted was to be found up here by Human police and them thinking she had done whatever it was that had been done. Whatever it was wasn’t going to be pretty. But she could handle this. She knew she could. She’d seen more death and pain than she cared for. Nothing could be worse than what life had already given her. Watching her beloved sister suffer through cancer and not being able to do anything to save her but sit and watch as her life slowly and painfully ebbed away was of the worst tortures Yvette had ever been through. It was also the reason she decided to turn, and the reason was dead-set on persuading her children to do the same. She couldn’t bear to go through that kind of torment again.

  The closer she got to the mausoleum, the stronger the scent of blood became. It called to her—there was pain in there, mixed with the tinge of fear. Fear always smelt more appetising than anything else, bringing about the hunter scents of creatures like her. It was what she was made for, perhaps. She was so different to Troy. He was the sensible one; logical. He would never have allowed her to come here alone. Not with these scents. But what could be worse now than having become one of the undead only to find out that she was in fact dying like a Human anyway.

  A fleeting moment was spent wondering how angry Raven might be that she had snuck away. She’d known he wouldn’t have been able to abandon an innocent, who was probably dying, to follow Yvette. She also hoped to god he hadn’t been able to get through to Troy. It was strictly forbidden that they
have their phones on during their shifts, so she imagined she was relatively safe for the time being. Otherwise, he’d have her hide for this.

  The tomb had its own gate, and Yvette kicked at the broken lock that now lay on the ground—it had been cut, too. It was the other girl Yvette saw first, the one who hadn’t been as drunk as the first. Her lifeless eyes stared out vacantly, the whites strewn with grey lines. Her skin and lips held a blue tinge, the colour of death. Pity filled Yvette as she stared down at her. “What did you think would happen?” she whispered sadly. She crouched down and gently moved the girl’s head to one side. Just as Yvette had expected, the girl had been bitten. She had been drained to death, literally. The hand across her lap lay there twisted, as if she may have tried to defend herself. Her top was torn open, and Yvette carefully pushed the material to the side. She scrambled back with a small cry as she stared at the centre of the girl’s chest. Her ribs had been snapped apart, her flesh torn open. Shit. Her heart was missing. Yvette tried not to retch.

  She closed the girl’s eyes and gave her a moment of silent respect.

  The tomb itself stood big and daunting against the night. The way the unhinged door was angled, Yvette couldn’t see what was inside. She swallowed hard then padded over, listening for anyone alive inside. An arm and a hand protruded from the opening, bringing Yvette up short. She rubbed at the burn on her wrist as she stared at the silver ring that now lay on the ground, a bloody mess around it. Goosebumps run up her arms and a horrid sense of foreboding came over her.

  Slowly, she moved towards it, half expecting another drained body when she got around the bend. But the arm wasn’t attached to anything. It ended on a jagged bloody stump; torn from its owner. Blood soaked the ground around it. Yvette grabbed the door and pulled. The rusty obstacle was difficult to move, age and harsh weather conditions having taken their toll. She scanned the area when she finally managed to edge it open, but there was no body to be seen.