Nevermore, The Complete Series (Boxed Set) (Twin Souls, Hybrid, Sacrifice, and Destiny)

by K. A. Poe

  “Fine! I'll sleep here,” I gave in, defeated. It was true that he hadn’t hurt me yet, and he had had ample opportunity while I napped.

  I didn't object to him helping me stretch out across the sofa, nor did I notice him leave the room to fetch a blanket and pillow. I had to admit that this was comfortable, warm and much better than struggling to sleep in the Alero.

  “Goodnight, Alexis, sleep well,” Salem whispered as my eyes fell shut uncontrollably. Sleep overcame me quickly as I silently hoped I would wake up in my familiar bed to find this had all truly been a dream.

  6. PAUL

  There was that familiar tugging again. My dreams were full of wonder, a strange boy named Salem, mom abandoning me...this time I was more eager to wake up. I was startled when I found myself on a white sofa identical to the one in my dream – or what I had hoped was a dream. I screamed, pulled myself away from the comfortable sectional couch and ran toward the tall white doors.

  As the doors slammed shut behind me, I fell to my knees on the alabaster stairs. My Alero was gone. I fought the urge to scream again, and felt a sudden whip of cold air from behind me.

  “Good morning,” the silky, sweet voice of the boy from my dream filled my ears.

  I rose from the ground and thrust myself at him, my palm prepared to smack him across the cheek, but he was too quick. He gripped my wrist tightly and pulled my arm downward. “There's no need for that,” his voice was tense. “Your car isn't gone. It is in the garage.”

  My eyes fell upon the garage to the left of the house and I sighed with relief. He released my hand. “While we're out here, why don't we drive over to Paul's business? There are many things he needs to explain to you, and the sooner you know, the sooner you will understand everything,” he suggested, his voice more calm and gentle now.

  “I don't want to go there,” I replied stubbornly. If all of this was true, I didn't think I was ready to face reality. Paul couldn't be my father.

  “You will have to eventually, you know,” Salem said calmly, “and somewhere, deep down, you want to.”

  “What does it matter anyway? It’s not like it will change anything.”

  “It will change a lot of things, actually,” he stated. “You'll feel better if you go.”

  “I highly doubt it.”

  The garage door opened, revealing my silver car. Salem gripped my hand gently and led me over to the vehicle. Despite all that had happened it felt strangely good having his hand in mine.

  I snapped out of the brief thought of Salem’s touch as he pulled my keys from his pocket, holding them in the air between us – The now familiar and alluring smile slightly blocked by the dangling metal. I sighed, taking the keys and climbing into the car. It appeared I had little choice, he was very persistent. I sat behind the steering wheel, pondering whether I could pull out of the garage and go home before he made it into the passenger seat. I put the key in the ignition and started the car, about to put it in reverse when I heard the passenger side door open and shut.

  “You're too slow,” he smirked.

  “Maybe you're too fast,” I said glumly.

  After enduring the long winding trip away from Salem's house we finally made it back to town and soon pulled up to Paul's Auto shop. I glanced over at Salem, who had an apprehensive look on his face.

  “What's the matter with you?” I asked.

  His expression changed immediately though I could tell he was faking the smile this time, “Nothing. Go on ahead, I will wait out here.”

  “It’s fine, I don’t care if you come, I mean…you already know it all anyway, right?” Part of me sincerely wished he would join me; I didn't want to face Paul alone, regardless if I barely knew this boy.

  “No,” he looked at me sternly, “it would be best if I was not present.”

  “I really don’t think Paul will care if you come too if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I'm staying out here, and that's final,” he replied, the fake smile instantly vanishing as he turned away from me.

  “Fine!” I said bitterly, slamming the door behind me as I left the boy in the car. His eyes were watchful as I approached the shop. As soon as I opened the glass doors I scrunched my nose. The smell of oil was so overwhelming I had to cup my hand over my nose to keep from gagging.

  Paul was nowhere to be seen at first, but I could distinctly hear his voice paired with someone else's. He must have been with a customer. I noticed a small surveillance camera perched high up on the ceiling and I felt like it was following my every step. It had been years since I came here, but everything looked the same as it always had.

  The building wasn’t too huge, but large enough to fit a back room full of various-sized car, bicycle and motorcycle tires. There were at least seven aisles of vehicle-related objects that I simply had no idea what were. For me, this was probably the most boring store in existence. Despite that fact, there was nothing else to do other than browse while I waited on my uncle. As I quietly walked down the first aisle I found a row of things I actually recognized and understood: air fresheners. I picked up a rose-shaped one and sniffed it, displeased by the fact that I could barely smell the scent through the plastic sleeve.

  “Can I help you?” a woman's voice asked. I jumped and looked in her direction.

  She was about a foot shorter than me – which was unfortunate for her, because I was barely over five feet myself – and a little chunky around the midsection. Her face was round and full, and atop her head was a spiked mess of pink hair. She wore a loose, sleeveless black top that revealed her arms, both of which were covered in vibrant, colorful tattoos. She had to be at least twenty-five or so.

  “I-I'm looking for Paul,” I stuttered.

  “He's with somebody else at the moment. Is there something I can help you with, though?” Her voice was high-pitched and light, bizarre coming from someone of her appearance.

  “No. I'm sort of...family,” I wanted to say I was his niece, but I wasn’t entirely sure if that was the correct answer anymore.

  “Oh!” she grinned and held her hand out, “I'm Kate.”

  “I'm Alexis,” I muttered, wishing I could retreat back to my car and avoid all of this. “Any idea how long until he’s done?”

  “No idea, but knowing him it could be a while,” she laughed, “I think he spends more time buddying up the customer’s than he does fixin’ anything.”

  “What do you do here?” I asked, politely trying to pass the time.

  “Me? I work behind the counter,” she replied, pointing to the checkout counter at the front of the store. “I've been here for almost two years now, and don't tell Paul, but I still don’t know jack about half the junk people bring in here.”

  “Yeah, I’ve never been much of a car person, either.”

  Before the pink-haired woman had a chance to say anything else, Paul came walking out from the back of the store grinning and shaking his head. He looked just as I remembered him, if not a little heavier. He was a bulky man, with broad shoulders and muscles fit for a wrestler. His appearance had always intimidated me, but despite the way he looked, he was a gentle man. Atop his head was a thick mane of bronze hair that I was grateful I hadn't inherited from the family gene pool.

  “Alex!” he said, walking in our direction with the grin on his face widening more than I thought possible, then suddenly engulfing me in his big arms.

  “Hey, Paul,” I squeaked under the pressure of his hug.

  He released me, the grin never leaving his scruffy, oil-stained face. “Happy birthday!”

  I frowned. “I guess you wouldn’t forget a day like that, huh?”

  “What? Forget my favorite niece’s birthday?!” he laughed. “What brings you around these parts, havin’ some car troubles? I told your mom that old Al-”

  “Mom – no, Janet – gave me a letter last night,” I interrupted, lying slightly, not mentioning that Salem had filled me in on the rest of the story.

  “About what?” he didn't
seem to have a clue why I was here. I glanced through the windows at Salem, wondering if it really had all been some sort of elaborate prank. He hadn't moved an inch.

  “About her and Desmond not being...” The words caught in my throat, “not being my real parents.”

  “Oh...” he muttered, looking at me in shock, “do you want to go to the back room?”

  I could feel Kate's brown eyes gazing curiously at us. I nodded my head slowly and followed Paul into the back. We were surrounded by boxes of car parts that weren't out on the shelves yet, and in the far corner was a light brown desk cluttered with used coffee mugs, scattered papers and a checkbook. He took a seat behind the messy desk and I sat in the seat on the opposite side.

  “What exactly did she tell you?” he asked, pushing some of the debris away so he could lean forward with his elbows against the wood top.

  “She told me that you are my real…my real father,” I mumbled, “is it true?”

  He appeared just as uncomfortable talking about this as I was. “Yes, Alexis. I am your father,” his voice was barely audible.

  “Why...why didn’t anyone ever tell me?”

  “It was for your own good,” he sighed, “I was just trying to protect you.”

  “Protect me? Protect me from what?”

  “From me...from my lifestyle,” he appeared to be having trouble discussing it.

  I frowned. “I don't understand, because you’re a mechanic or what? Or because you’re a single father or something and you didn’t think you could handle raising me alone?”

  “That’s not it at all…I'm just not the fatherly type.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” I laughed. “You’ve always been a good uncle.”

  “It's much harder than you could know, Alexis. There’s more to it than all that,” Paul sighed heavily, “I take it Janet didn't explain much, huh?”

  “She didn't really give me much more than 'Paul's your dad!'” It felt wrong lying to Paul about some of the details, but by the way Salem reacted to even entering the building I felt he didn't want Paul knowing he was involved.

  He smirked. “That sounds about right for her. This isn't easy for me to tell you...”

  “What isn't?” I was getting impatient; someone needed to give me a straight answer soon before I went insane!

  “You are going to think I'm crazy, and you are probably going to want to run away,” he stared at me, watching my expression, “but don't. I promise you, there's nothin’ to run from.”

  “Get on with it, Paul,” I couldn't take any more of these vague answers, between him and Salem I was getting sick of it.

  “The Waldron family is different from ordinary people,” he was choosing his words carefully. I barely caught that he said 'Waldron' and not 'Hobbs'. “We are...vampire hunters.”

  I burst into laughter, but there was little humor behind what he said. “Vampire hunters?” I shook my head, about to get up and leave. “I knew it, it’s all a joke. You and Salem are both going to get it for this crap. I-”

  “Salem!?” His eyes went from gentle to fierce, almost fearful, “please tell me it isn't Salem Young.”

  I opened my mouth to confirm his assumption, but stopped myself. “You’re the one who set him up to do it, aren’t you? You’re obviously both in on it. Okay…you got me!”

  “Alexis, this is serious,” Paul growled. “Salem Young isn't safe.”

  “He seems perfectly safe, and friendly, to me,” I objected, “aside from this whole birthday prank bull. If it weren’t for that I could see myself even liking him!”

  “Alexis, this is not a damned prank!” I somehow knew by the tone in his voice and the look in his eyes that everything I had been told was indeed true. “Salem…he’s one of them!”

  “One of...them?” I gulped. “Them? As in a ‘vampire’?”

  Paul nodded slowly. “He’s one of the ones that live around these parts that I haven’t been able to kill yet.”

  “You kill people!” I gasped in horror.

  “They aren't people, Alex. They're monsters!”

  “I don't believe in monsters.”

  “Please, you have to listen to me,” he pleaded, reaching across the table to touch my hand. I pulled away.

  “So, why did Janet and Desmond pretend for so long, how are they involved?”

  “They don't know the full truth,” he said quietly, “I put you in foster care after your mother passed away, hoping someone would find you and give you a better life than I could ever offer here on my own. But, I insisted they let me be a part of your life. So, I played the role of your uncle. You can't imagine how hard it was, pretending all of this time to be your uncle,” he explained with grief, “but, I told Janet that by the time you were old enough, I wanted you to know the truth about where you came from. I guess eighteen is old enough to understand in her book. All she knew, though, is that I was your dad, and that your real mom passed away.”

  “Why did it have to wait until now?”

  “I had to protect you from them, if they knew I had a young daughter...” he shook his head, “there's no tellin’ what they might have done to you. It was for the best. But now you're older, stronger, and more able to understand all this. Hell, you might even turn out to be a fine hunter.”

  “I refuse to believe this, Paul! You and Salem are just playing some sort of stupid birthday joke on me but I'm sick of it. It's not funny anymore, I'm out of here!” I didn’t know what to think, my head was spinning. They both seemed so adamant about all of this, and I admit it was an awfully elaborate prank - if it had been one. It had to be one. Why would they do this, though? It wasn’t funny at all, it was downright infuriating.

  I got up from my chair, ignoring his pleading calls and left the room. Tears began to stream down my cheek, from frustration and confusion. Then I looked out the window to see Salem in my car, staring back at me. I walked slowly out of the auto shop and grasped the handle to my door. I was afraid to open it, afraid that Paul hadn't been joking...but the welcoming smile on Salem's flawless face made me change my mind. I collapsed onto my seat and glanced over at him cautiously.

  I thought over everything that I had read in vampire novels – noting the fact that he was out here, in the sunlight, not burning to a crisp. However, he was breathtakingly beautiful and he did have a pallid complexion, but he seemed harmless - aside from the bizarre episode about his ‘special abilities’ that he went on about. Crazy…but harmless.

  Salem opened his mouth to speak, but I put my hand up to stop him as I remembered what Paul had said. “There’s more about you than you let on last night isn’t there? You’re not just some far off offspring of a witch, are you?”

  He lowered his eyes. “You are correct, Alexis Waldron.”

  Waldron. “Why didn't you tell me?”

  “I was afraid of how you would react.”

  “But if you are what Paul says you are, and you try to avoid this place, why would you want to bring me here?”

  Salem sighed. “I promised Janet I would.”

  “How’s my mom…Janet…involved in any of this?”

  “She knows my secret,” he spoke quietly, “all thanks to Mark.”

  “Mark? As in her boyfriend?”

  He nodded. “He is one of us as well.”

  “What!? Oh my god, is she in danger!?” I asked, beyond alarmed. Regardless if she was my biological mom or not, I still loved her.

  “Of course she isn’t,” he smiled reassuringly.

  “This is all some sort of trick, right?” My voice was filled with panic as I stared at him with pleading eyes. “Tell me this isn't real. Tell me my mom is at home waiting for me, and that she's secretly planning a surprise party and is just using you guys to distract me.”

  “I wish I could,” Salem replied.

  “I don’t know what to think. This is all impossible,” I said, shaking my head, “Okay, I’ll play along Mr. Vampire, but I have one question.”

  “Anything.” />
  “Why, if Paul is your enemy, are you willing to be around me at all? Aren’t you afraid hunting is in my blood or something? Or that, you know…HE might kill you?”

  “I told you before. I find you intriguing; in more ways than I can even explain. And, you haven't been taught in the ways of hunting, therefore I have nothing to fear from you. As far as Paul goes, I have nothing to worry about.”

  “Nothing to worry about? Okay, whatever. I have another one for you, then. If you’re a vampire, how are you out here in the sun? Shouldn't you have shriveled up and died by now? Or burst into flame?”

  He grimaced. “This is reality, Alexis, not a story. Everything you have read about vampires – most of it is inaccurate or downright false. We are not beautiful, we don't turn into bats, we don't shrivel up in the sunlight and we are most definitely not afraid of something as fickle as garlic.”

  “That's not entirely true,” I whispered bashfully, turning to look out the window, hoping he somehow had not heard.

  “What isn't?” He questioned.

  “The beautiful part,” I said, turning back to look at him.

  “You are too kind,” the sound of his laugh extinguished my embarrassment.

  “So, then it is all true?” I paused for a moment, “are you going to kill me?” I really wished I didn’t always blurt out what I was thinking.

  He put his finger on my chin and turned my face toward him. I flinched at his touch, trembling slightly. “I would never hurt you. In fact, I have no interest in hurting anyone else for that matter.”

  “Paul said you’re a monster and that I shouldn't trust you.”

  “Paul,” he said through gritted teeth, “is the monster. A lot of vampires haven't done anything wrong, not in a very long time. Some of us haven’t at all. The hunters…the ones that kill without feeling or discrimination…they are the monsters!”

  “A long time? So you’re saying you used to be a monster?” I asked.

  “Some of us, yes. Some still are, but I'm not amongst those. These hunters such as Paul do not understand that many of us are different. They only judge us by what we are, not who we are.”