by Lisa De Palo
Eshreal’s mouth parted.
“So it’s true then? She’s with child?”
He threw down another whiskey. “Forced by Rezaal himself,” Jeremiah said.
Eshreal looked forward and exhaled deeply.
“Poor child, she’s been tormented and abused to her own death.”
She took a moment before looking back at Jeremiah and softly placed her hand on his. Understanding his pain she nodded empathetically with saddened eyes.
“I know why you did what you did,” she said. “It’s a different story than what Rafael’s been saying, that’s for sure. But you need to know something… Rafael is gathering the whole Sanctuary. He’s planning to lead the angels into war, hoping to drive evil from the city. You can’t get in the middle of this one, Jere.”
27
OMINOUS
Saturated and bloody Layla was left with nowhere to go. She struggled to hold Marco’s weight. His wounds, still raw, left a trail of dripping blood, and it looked as though he had been through a war. With no other choice, she once again had to place the burden on Shannon, and take Marco to O’Leary’s. It was much closer than her aunt’s house and it wouldn’t be long before they were both hunted down.
She looked up toward the bar with a face filled with exhaustion. She noticed Shannon’s fingers touching her parted lips. She shifted her gaze toward Jeremiah who was hunched slightly over the bar.
Layla was able to carry Marco toward them when his weight finally became too much and he came crashing down hard to the ground.
“Jeremiah, help us,” Shannon yelled as she dashed around the bar.
Layla looked around at the stunned faces of a few old men staring in astonishment.
She pulled Marco’s ripped top over, trying to cover his wounds as best she could.
“It’s okay, everyone,” she called out. “He got into a fight, he’ll be fine.”
There were a few grunts and a scuffling of chairs and the drinkers got back to their life in the glass. A battered stranger was no big deal in that side of town.
Jeremiah kneeled down next to Layla, looking her up and down and shifting her head to the side.
“I’m okay, Jere, it’s Marco’s blood.”
She noticed his face relax, and he turned to face Marco. He helped Shannon lift him to his feet, and walked him down into the basement. They carefully laid him down on the small bed, and his feet hung over the end.
“Layla, I’ll just go and get some warm water and towels, do you need some blood?”
Layla was able to crack open a half smile towards Shannon’s incredible hospitality.
“Yes please, I’m really weak.”
Layla knelt down beside Marco, shifting his wet hair from his face. Her pulse raced with him back in her presence - even if the circumstances were unfavorable. She cupped his face in her hands, closed her eyes and held him for a few seconds. But, it seemed like an eternity had been lost between them.
She suddenly opened her eyes, remembering Jeremiah was standing behind her and turned to face him. His eyes were frozen like the surface of a winter puddle. They had been robbed of their usual warmth.
I wish I could reach up to him and tell him it’s okay, things are going to be fine…
She knew at that moment he wouldn’t believe her, and as much as she wanted to rekindle his fire, something told her that his insides were sodden with unbroken tears. He had always appeared the ‘bad-boy’ type with his aggression, but maybe that aggression was his way of masking the pain. Maybe he kept people at arm’s length so he wouldn’t get hurt. Suddenly it all became visible on his face.
She reached her hand up and placed her hand gently on his crossed arm.
“Hey, are you okay, Jere?”
His saddened eyes looked slightly forward, avoiding her gaze.
“I’m fine.”
The door flung open, breaking the awkward tension in the room, and Shannon walked in with a large white bowl of steaming hot water, a towel over her shoulder and two blood bags in her spare hand.
“Here, lovey, wipe his body down so we can get a better look at those nasty wounds. It’s odd, they should have healed by now…”
Jeremiah walked out of the room, forcing the door shut behind him a little harder than usual. Layla turned and looked at Shannon, her head jolted forward as she shrugging her shoulders.
“Don’t you worry, dear, he’s just feeling the pinch a little, that’s all. There is no home for him at the Sanctuary anymore, and seeing you with Marco, well it brings on his human emotions.”
Layla stood up and held her arms out to the side.
“Woah, I feel dizzy,” she said.
A sudden wave of nausea swirled in her stomach, and her head flooded with half-regrets. She struggled to keep a steady heartbeat when suddenly her eyes rolled back in her head and her body swirled until she fell limp to the floor. Blackened veins started to form on her arms, traveling up toward her shoulder.
“Jeremiah!” Shannon yelled.
She quickly grabbed one of the blood bags and placed it on Layla’s lips but she wasn’t moving, and the smell of blood had not changed a thing. Shannon gently lifted her head and cradled her in her arms, letting Layla’s head fall slightly backward. She opened Layla’s mouth and let droplets of blood trickle down her throat.
It wasn’t working, nothing was happening.
“C’mon, darlin’, wake up!”
Nothing changed. She sat there holding Layla like a mother and softly rocked her back and forth. She squeezed the bag a little so the blood ran out quicker.
“Layla, wake up…”
She tapped her face a few times but it was no use, she was dead to the world, Shannon prayed it wasn’t for good this time. She rested her arm gently over Layla’s belly and dropped the bloody bag when she suddenly felt Layla’s stomach kick. It made Shannon jump, and she quickly lifted Layla’s eyelids, but they were oddly still rolled back in their sockets.
She lifted Layla’s loose shirt, and her swollen belly came free, it had nearly tripled in size overnight.
28
PURGE
Pain exploded up Sophie’s spine as Anastasia’s fist slammed into her back. The vampire wrenched her forward by the arm and Sophie gasped for breath as she was led through the warehouse.
She tried to note the twists and turns but the high from Anastasia’s bite was making her mind hazy. It was weird though, Layla’s bite had been so much more potent, the rush from her venom was like nothing she had ever experienced, and she desperately needed to feel that again.
Anastasia pulled Sophie’s arm hard and by instinct, Sophie ripped back. The vampire span on her heels and pain burst across Sophie’s cheek from a fierce backhand. She could taste the sweet blood trickling down her lip. Before she could get her head back, Anastasia pulled her forward and Sophie lumbered on with the vampire. She dragged her up the corridor of holding cells until they reached the far end of the dank place.
“In here,” Anastasia hissed and threw Sophie into a cell.
Sophie tripped forward as the heavy door clanked shut behind her and the darkness consumed the room. She fumbled around with her hands and felt an old mattress which she quickly slumped down onto. She sighed and listened to the click-clack of high heels on a stone outside, slowly getting further and further away and sighed. She was alone.
Time meant nothing to Sophie in this place, she strained her ears for anything but after what felt like hours, she gave up on that. Her eyes grew used to the pitch black and slowly, the dark form of the bed and a toilet showed up like hints in her eyes.
A dull ache grew in Sophie’s shoulders, it was the first sign of cravings and she knew things were only going to get worse. When her stomach twisted she groaned in pain and rolled over on the mattress and clawed at it with her hands. She needed the sweet venom of another bite.
The nausea turned into vomiting, she couldn’t help it, and when her stomach was empty, her guts kept tensing, forcing burning bile up
her throat. Tears streamed down her eyes and as she gasped for breath she punched out at the empty air.
“What, who’s there?”
She swore she heard voices, first it was like little chattering conversations, whispers in her ears. She tried to cover her ears, not to listen, but even when she did they were just nonsense ramblings. She couldn’t help but cry, she crawled up into fetal position holding herself tight. How long had she been in this room? She clawed at her arms, scratching ferociously, it felt like ants were in her veins and she scratched and scratched until she could feel the warmth of her own blood surfacing.
“Help!” she screamed and she kept screaming until her voice was hoarse.
No one came, no one could hear her. It suddenly dawned on her, this was why Anastasia had locked her in the far cell.
Sophie broke, her eyes burned and she had no more tears, so she sobbed and clutched her face in her palms hoping that someone, anyone, might just open that door. Sleep might have come, she wasn’t sure. If it had, she hadn’t dreamed but now her body felt like it had been hit by a truck, she fidgeted trying her best to find a position that would ease her suffering. A tapping on the floor made her sit up. Tip-a-tapper, tip-a-tapper, like dripping water.
“Hello?” she murmured.
Heelllooo… something whispered.
Sophie moaned, she knew she was going insane. How had she let herself get like this, what was in the vampire venom? She rolled over and thought of Layla.
One bite…
The thought made her sick. How could she be thinking about another hit? It had ruined her! It was a potent drug and she couldn’t get enough. The door’s lock suddenly clicked open and Sophie threw her arms up as a bright light came streaming in with blinding radiance. Her heart raced and she tried to kick herself far up the bed to get away. A voice laughed.
“Look at her,” it was a man. “She must have only been in here three hours.”
“Are you sure you did your rounds?” a deeper voice asked with a heavy accent.
“Of course, sire. Every three hours after Marco’s escape.”
“It must have been Anastasia. She’s gone rogue, watch her.”
“Help,” Sophie whimpered.
The deeper voice snorted.
“Lock her up, we can trade her with Sinclair for the babe.”
The door slammed shut and Sophie screamed.
“Noooo! Let me out! Help! Please! Anyone!”
29
MALICE
The witch would be a good bargaining chip. Anastasia knew the power she had, even if she did call herself a white witch. She was hooked on the venom, Anastasia giggled to herself, knowing Sophie would do anything for another bite.
She walked along the dockside warehouses with the full moon high above her. An icy wind was being carried off the river and the darkness of this part of town didn’t escape her. It was as if the air was fouler, something malevolent lingered and when she saw red eyes in the shadows she took a deep breath. This was demon territory.
A man walked out from an abandoned doorway. He was huge, his dark skin shimmering in the moonlight. Black leather pants wrapped his legs like a second skin and his muscular chest was bare with steam rising from his shoulders. Red eyes greeted Anastasia.
“Wrong part of town, vamp. You better turn back now, while I still let you,” he said with a wary smile.
“Silence yourself, wretched hellspawn,” she snapped back. “I have news for your master.”
The demon moved like a serpent, slowly circling Anastasia in the middle of the road while snorting at the air.
“What news?” he asked.
“I have something he wants,” she spat. “So let me pass.”
He smiled a broad grin and threw his head to the side as if to usher her on before taking the lead. She followed him along the dark street and as they walked she noticed more eyes peering from the shadows. The demons had been busy, she thought. It had been a long time since so many possessed were seen around here.
The demon led Anastasia to Rezaal’s church and gave her a nod as she walked past him. He wasn’t going to lead her any further, Rezaal’s reputation must have still been strong in hell. Anastasia looked up at the decrepit building and the iron-spiked fence that bordered it. The demons had done a good job at defiling this house of worship. Anastasia took a deep breath and strode toward the door.
Two great snakes were engraved across the front, it was magic, even she could see it. Anastasia smirked, waved her hand and the snakes came alive. She watched as one ate the other and the door slowly heaved open. Anastasia pulled it wider and stepped through into the demon’s lair.
“Rezaal!” she cried out.
When nothing replied, she cried out again before gasping as Ardat appeared. She was wearing the boy, Dean. It was a sickening sight.
“Lost?” Ardat asked with a smirk.
Anastasia stiffened her body and straightened her top.
“I have a deal for Rezaal,” she said.
Ardat looked at her with a blank face.
“I demand an audience,” Anastasia said when there was no reply.
Ardat cackled.
“Demand an audience? With my high-prince? I don’t think so, you little slave. Whatever you have to say, you say to me.”
Anastasia’s eye twitched and she clenched her jaw. Now was not the time for a fight.
“Fine,” she said. “I have Sophie in my custody.”
“So?” Ardat replied.
“So we can use her to get Layla,” Anastasia snapped.
“We?”
Anastasia sighed.
“We want the same thing. If we work together, you can have the child and I can have Layla.”
Ardat twisted her head in thought and slowly began to nod.
“Why? What is your little plan then?” she asked.
“My coven is weak,” Anastasia said. “Dimitry throws us away like pawns and I do not have the patience for it anymore.”
“Awww…” Ardat whimpered in mockery. “Did you lose someone dear to you?”
Anastasia’s eyes flickered to the floor before she looked back up.
“I am sorry,” Ardat said. “Please, do go on…”
“I want to rip Layla to shreds,” Anastasia said. “That’s all I want. Once the bitch has given you the child, you won’t need her. So give her to me. If we work together then nothing can stop us.”
Ardat circled her and flicked Anastasia’s hair until she finally nodded and puckered her lips slightly.
“How will one vampire help us?” she asked.
“Who said it’s only me?” Anastasia said back. “I have others, and I have the witch. There is power in her, not just bargaining power either.”
“Well then, you might just be smarter than you look,” Ardat said. “We use the witch for her powers. We take Layla, and everyone wins. It could work.”
“It will work,” Anastasia said with a wicked smile.
“Fine,” Ardat said with a wave of her hand. “I will speak with Rezaal about it and you will have your answer.”
A heavy clunk made Anastasia spin around to see the front door sealing itself.
“What are you doing?” Anastasia demanded.
“Securing my assets,” Ardat smiled and began to walk away. “I won’t be long, make yourself at home.”
30
HUNTED
Marco looked at Layla’s limp body as she lay unconscious on Shannon’s couch. It had only been eight weeks since Rezaal had forced himself on her and already she looked like she had carried his spawn to term.
“It’s ruining her,” Shannon said quietly.
He nodded and couldn’t help but feel the wear on his own body. His muscles ached, his back felt like it was always hunched and the bones in his spine felt bruised and battered. The cuts had been healing clean enough, but the real problem was that without his fangs, he couldn’t feed. No matter what, he would never be as strong as he used to be. He sighed and Shannon took
his hand.
“We’ll get her through this,” she said.
“Have you heard from Jeremiah?” he asked.
“Not yet,” she said with a shake of her head. “Let him go huffing and puffing. A walk will do him good.”
“He loves her…” Marco murmured.
“He does, and so do you.” Shannon squeezed his hand. “Don’t let it eat you up, all things sort themselves…”
Layla moaned and began to roll, cutting the conversation off. Marco jumped up and stood back as Shannon raced to her side and felt her forehead.
“Lovey?” she said. “You’re alright, lovey. You’re here with me and Marco…”
Layla let her head lull from side to side until her eyes focused on Shannon.
“Marco?” she whispered in a hoarse voice.
“He’s right here, darling. He is fine.”
Layla used all her energy to raise her heavy head to see Marco’s face until she couldn’t hold it any longer.
“Marco…” she said weakly.
He stepped forward and couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so anxious.
“I’m here, Layla,” he said.
“My baby,” she said. “I can feel him growing.”
“It’s almost time,” Shannon said.
“How?” she whimpered.
No one answered and Marco took a deep breath.
“Layla, can you sit up?” he asked.
He helped her upright and her body slumped heavy in the couch.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Not really,” he said honestly and looked down.
He felt ashamed, he didn’t want to tell her the truth about it, but she needed to know.
“I can’t protect you like I used to, Layla,” he said. “You should stay with Jeremiah. He will keep you safe.”
“What? What do you mean?”