She was like a car accident, a beautiful disaster, and I knew I shouldn’t stop to watch but I couldn’t tear my eyes away either. The irony of her tragic allure wasn’t lost on me.
In all the years of vampire hunting, I’d never seen someone turn before and I couldn’t help my morbid curiosity. I was fascinated by the way her honey-colored hair changed from golden to near-white. The way her brown eyes opened wide with fear and began to take on a purple glow. The way her nails grew sharp and clawed at the ground. And then reality sank in and, as if I hadn’t realized it before, the darkness of this off-putting situation crashed into my brain.
“Jesus.” My jaw clenched in horror. “They got to you.”
Despite her stunning beauty, she was in a tremendous amount of pain. I knew this, not only from the way she flailed upon the ground, but from my years of training. I knew a vampire’s physiology almost better than I knew my own. And though I had studied how painful turning was and the metamorphosis that took place, seeing it happen was a whole other thing entirely. In all honesty, I was mortified, her torment causing my stomach to clench uncomfortably.
I wondered if she had a family and if they were searching for her that very moment. She looked young, and I imagined she might’ve been some unsuspecting college student on her way home from class when her maker found her. But that was just suspicion. Who really knew. But what I did know is she was infected with vampirism and it was only a matter of time before she was one of them.
“John.” She moaned in pain, her voice like a siren calling to me. I frowned, wondering who this John was. I knelt down beside her, noticing she had more wounds than just the bite mark. It appeared she’d been in some sort of accident, yet before I could study her wounds, they quickly healed from the vampire blood coursing through her veins. I leaned in closer.
“Who’s John? Is he your maker?”
“Maker?” She held her midsection as though she’d just had a bad batch of potato salad, but I knew it wasn’t food poisoning that ailed her. “John, my boyfriend.”
Oh, okay. So she had a boyfriend, or used to have a boyfriend rather, seeing her current situation. No big deal. But that brought me to another question. Where was her maker?
When a vampire decided to create another it was not a benign decision. They took it seriously and stayed with their creation as a mother would her child. They taught them and protected them until the Newborn could learn to live on its own. So why would her maker leave her to turn all alone?
I shook myself from my invalid thoughts. I wasn’t there to wonder about some Newborn vampire and why she was the way she was. I was there on orders. I was there to kill…
Then why hadn’t I yet? I clenched my jaw determinedly.
“Not anymore he’s not,” I replied to the fact that John was her boyfriend, reaching for my gun and stake. If a silver bullet to the head didn’t do the trick –which in most cases it did— a wooden stake to the heart would. But yet again, I found myself hesitating, wondering what was stopping me.
Was it because this vampire was not yet a vampire? She remained human, not yet fully turned and I had to admit I’d never killed a human before. Or was it because she reminded me of the girl I lost long ago? Lily…
I shuddered at the rush of emotions the female on the ground brought to me, the situation hitting too close to the one that had started me on my journey with the FUSE army in the first place.
I glanced up and took in the scene surrounding me. The warehouse we had been staking out, the place where a coven of Unfortunates hid, was now blown to bits. And the parts that still stood were engulfed with flames. My men retreated into the desert to catch up with a few vampires and witches who’d managed to escape. I had been left alone, but it would only be temporarily.
I looked back down at my target, the girl who was turning into a vampire right before my eyes. A single tear trickled down her cheek and she looked up at me.
When our eyes met, a sudden surge of emotion crashed through me but as soon as it arrived, I pushed the feeling away, my finger trembling on the trigger. I had never been an emotional person, at least not since Lily was taken from me, and I could not let those emotions overwhelm me at a time such as this. I had taken a vow with my FUSE brothers and I needed to uphold it. Though only twenty years old and younger than anyone else in my position, I was still their Captain.
But as I glanced back down at the girl, I noticed that her frightened expression did something to me, reminding me of something, transporting me back to that night… Back to Lily…
No.
I dropped my arm, shoving my gun back into its holster. Damn it. I couldn’t do it. I could not kill an innocent human.
Yes, I saw the paradox of my decision, and yes, that human would be a full-fledged vampire by sunset the next day. But for now, she was just a girl. A poor girl who had been infected. A beautiful girl I could not keep my eyes off of.
I inhaled and slid the wooden stake into my belt, realizing my next decision might change my life forever.
“Shit. I’m gonna regret this.”
FOUR: RUBY
I gasped —and yes, in case you were wondering, vampires do breathe— the sudden oxygen rushing into my lungs like hellfire. My eyes flew open and I was thrust into an explosion of lights, sounds, and blazing heat. Pain shot through me like a thousand arrows, my naked body thrashing this way and that.
I wondered where I was, but most of all, why the heck I was naked. Is this what the afterlife was like? Seriously?
Confusion whirled though my brain like an angry tornado, images and colors flashing in my eyes. My nerves sent sharp messages through my body; messages indicating my bones were broken and muscles torn. But through the pain, an almost unbearable swarm of sensation bombarded me all at once.
I could feel the cool grass beneath my back and see the glittering stars above, closer than they’d ever been. And I could smell the scent of… the scent of everything. I inhaled the freshness of the grass, layered with the musky smell of dirt beneath. I even detected the earthy clay far below the layers of dirt and desert rock.
And blood. I smelled the blood of man and the blood of— I wasn’t sure. But it was cold, cold blood. I fought the urge to gag, trying to crawl away from the chaos I’d awoken to, a war of sorts.
A large fiery ball exploded to my left, blasting past me like the breath of an angry dragon, singeing my skin and hair. I released the most unladylike sound —one of sheer terror— and tucked my head against the blow, the smell of burning flesh and soot filling my nose. God, I hoped that wasn’t my flesh. But before my mind could come to any sort of conclusion, the concussion of another detonation boomed through me, adding to my intense pain. I covered my ears and closed my sensitive eyes against the blinding scene, wishing I’d wake up from this nightmare.
“Freakin’ Fangers!” A man screamed out and, like a pack of horses, boots stampeded across the desert. I balled myself up tight against the ground.
I’m now well aware the meaning those words held, but at the time I was clueless— not to mention being slightly preoccupied by what felt like elephants doing the tango over my pain-ridden body.
But the elephant disco was temporarily forgotten when a fiery piece of debris crashed inches from my face, causing me to cry out, and feeling like I was melting from the heat. I edged away from the flaming ball, my mind spiraling out of control.
“Move. Move. Move!” More voices hollered and others released blood curdling screams. There was fire, lots of fire and fear blazed a hole through my chest.
Another large chunk of metal came skidding by my body, missing me by mere inches. I covered my head from the splinters of metal and wood peppering my body. I coughed and sputtered, curling up tight.
Wherever I was, I needed to get away or I would die…
I creased my brows. Strangely, the thought befuddled me. I would die? Something wasn’t adding up. I tried to grasp what I was missing, but couldn’t.
I looked up to see the
night sky now covered in blackish-orange smoke, billowing from the wreckage below. I then sensed a presence coming toward me and I tried to move, to run, but I just stumbled and scrabbled along the ground.
A young man kneeled over me, studying me with a most conflicted look plastered to his face. He couldn’t have been more than a couple years older than I was. Nineteen. Maybe twenty.
He looked all rough and tumble, weapons of every sort stuffed into his pack. He wore faded green camouflage pants and black boots, his dingy shirt clinging to his muscles like a second skin. He resembled a renegade soldier with slate grey eyes and chocolate brown hair. He smelled amazing, like wet leather and wood, and flesh and musk. I inhaled him deeply. Oddly enough, he smelled of life.
“Jesus.” His wide eyes roamed my body, landing on my neck. “They got to you.”
I reached up and touched my neck, finding what felt like two swollen puncture wounds. My fingers came away sticky right before the agonizing cramps set in again. They shattered through me like a brick through glass and I whimpered lethargically.
“John,” I moaned before I knew what I was saying.
He leaned in closer. “Who’s John? Is he your maker?”
I frowned. “Maker?” I doubled over in pain, hot knives stabbing through my body. I panted after the contraction subsided. “John. My boyfriend.”
Or maybe he was my ex-boyfriend now, for I vaguely remembered him breaking up with me. And something about my parents… my dad. The memory was foggy and I couldn’t quite put the pieces together.
Roaring shockwaves echoed through the air behind us. “Not anymore he’s not,” the man said.
“Wait—” Another shock of pain jolted through me, interrupting what I was about to say, forcing a howling curse passed my lips.
The man pulled a gun from his belt and pointed it straight at my head and I blanched. What the…? Fear sliced through me like blunt razors, but blurry confusion still held me tight. His face was stern, showing no sign of emotion whatsoever and I knew in that moment he was going to kill me. But that didn’t seem right.
Again, it was like a thought tried to push to the forefront of my mind but couldn’t quite make it beyond my scorching pain. I wished he’d just do it already, kill me, for at least in death I might have some respite from this fiery pain.
When I came to after another bought of agony, I looked up into the man’s eyes. He seemed perplexed, his expression twisting with confliction.
“Shit.” He slid his gun back into his holster. “I’m gonna regret this.”
I wondered what it was he would be regretting but was distracted when he placed a woolen blanket over my nakedness. It was scratchy but I sighed with relief for its coverage. He scooped up my body, hoisting me into his arms —arms stronger than even John’s— and stood in one swift movement. I sank into the warmth of his embrace, again being hit by a wall of his earthy, spicy smell. I wrapped my hands around his neck, resisting the urge to moan in solace from his comfort. The young man’s head turned from side to side, eyes scanning the surrounding area.
I could now see a group of buildings engulfed in fire, the flames licking the sides and spewing from the windows and doors. Debris and small fires littered the ground and I even thought I saw —insane as it sounds— an arm and a leg lying detached on the ground. But everything was a blur and I couldn’t be too sure.
Soldiers with weapons drawn, and in uniforms similar to the grey-eyed man, scattered in the opposite direction, the sounds of combat still lingering in the air, although sounding farther away now. It was like the explosions moved of their own accord. But still the fires roared and smoke clouded my vision.
“What is going on?” I gripped my stomach as if it would help subdue the agony.
He took one step and stopped, looking down at me. “Are you strong enough to hold on tight?”
I thought about it for a minute, not knowing if I was strong enough but, figuring I had no other choice, I nodded.
He exhaled a long breath as though relieved and started at a brisk walk. I watched him for a few moments before repeating my earlier question, thinking he either hadn’t heard me the first time or didn’t care. “What is happening to me?”
“You’re turning.”
“Turning?”
The man’s jaw twitched as though irritated, and he then huffed. “I’ll explain later. For now, I need to get you out of here.”
I frowned, thinking the soldier with the slate-grey eyes was making no sense. Nothing was making any sense. I didn’t even know if I was still in my hometown of Bisbee, Arizona, much less in Arizona at all. But the specific scent of mesquite trees prickled my nose, reassuring me I was at least still in the desert. I couldn’t remember anything, except flashes of a forgotten memory…
Rain. Headlights. Pain. Darkness.
“Hold on tight,” my savior said. Without warning, my body jolted, bringing me back from my fragmented memories as the man ran us into the cover of night, away from the fires and echoing booms. My body bounced with his movements, my clumsy arms wrapped around his neck, and my head dropped backward as if I were a broken bobble head.
I felt horrible, like I was dying…
And then it hit me in the face like a slap from God himself and I would’ve sat bolt upright if my muscles hadn’t been made of spaghetti. I remembered now, I was already dead. I remembered my mother telling me about my real father, how he’d left her when she was pregnant with me. I remembered John breaking up with me and I remembered the accident. I had died, my heart stopping cold and my soul leaving my body. Dead.
And this must be my hell.
It was all making sense now. The pain… the blinding pain, and the fires, a wrath from the underworld in which I would spend the rest of eternity. But confusion filled me over the notion. Didn’t one need to have committed some treacherous crime to enter hell?
In life, I hadn’t been that bad of a person really. Aside from a raging addiction to banana pudding and reality television, I was quite normal, if not even nicer than most. I babysat for all the neighborhood children, I never cheated on any tests, and I always called to check in if I was late coming home. I was starting college soon, nursing school, and I wanted to help people. To me, that didn’t seem so hell-worthy.
I inwardly frowned at myself, thinking I should’ve never stolen that tube of lip-gloss from the department store when I was fourteen. That was it. That’s why I was in hell. I was a horrible, lowly thief and was being punished for my indiscretions.
Another shock of pain rocked my body and I gasped yet again. A howl of grief welled up in the pit of my stomach, but a dirty bandana was stuffed in my mouth before I could even scream. I choked and sputtered, my body twisting and turning in the man’s strong arms.
“Shush.” He shoved the cloth further into my mouth, making sure I couldn’t spit it out. “You need to keep quiet or you’ll get us both killed.” Killed? Hmm… I thought about that for a minute. One could not be killed if one was already deceased, right? And I was already deceased. Clearly this guy had received the wrong memo.
But I strained my thoughts back to the accident, to the tree which crushed my car and, in turn, crushed my body, and I mentally nodded my head. Yep. I was dead as a door nail. I gulped down the fear over my being dead, suddenly gagging on the sweaty cloth in my mouth, my eyes watering from the acrid taste. But I tried to ignore the sweat sandwich I’d been fed, more importantly focusing on categorizing my disheveled thoughts.
If I was dead it would only be logical that the man with me was dead as well. I looked up at him through squinted eyes and he didn’t look like a corpse. On the contrary, he had a fresh scent of life about him, his skin glowing with vigor. His flesh was warm and his steel-grey eyes liquid and alert. His sharp jaw had a lawn of thin stubble growing in patches from lack of upkeep. In all of this madness, I’d somehow managed to appreciate his good looks, though it was hardly the time to be scoping out hot guys, so I shoved the thought to the back of my mind.
The world became silent. The only sounds were my savior’s heavy breathing and his footfalls rushing us on, slapping over rocks and cracking through dry branches. The scenery flew by us in swatches of dark greens and browns and blues, the moonlight so bright it highlighted every line and detail of each plant and animal.
I could’ve sworn I’d even seen a large scorpion with his pointed tail curved upwards in a ready-to-strike position. But that was impossible. No one could see a scorpion in the dead of night, that many feet from the ground and going as fast as we were. I knew, because I used to hunt scorpions with my dad.
Dad. The word shot sorrow through me like a bullet and I couldn’t help but be bludgeoned by the fact that he wasn’t really my dad now. But yet again, and like all of my other random thoughts, I brushed it away, having bigger concerns at the moment— like where the heck I was, and why I was seeing things like scorpions and dismembered body parts. I shook my head, realizing I must be going crazy. Yep. That was it. I had bought a ticket on the crazy train.
“Let’s take a rest for a moment.” The man sat me down on top of a flat rock, the roughness scraping against the sensitive, bare skin of my rear. Suddenly highly aware of my nudeness, I tucked the blanket under me and wrapped my arms around my knees, a hot blush crawling up my neck. But if the soldier noticed my embarrassment, he didn’t say anything.
I glanced up to the sky, noting that the moon had changed positions from where it was earlier. We must’ve been running for hours, although time flew by unaccounted for.
Unfortunate Souls (Book 1): Unfortunate Souls Series (The Unfortunate Souls Series) Page 2