Dark Seeker

by Taryn Browning

  Ava drew a deep breath. “You’re right.” She smiled. “Anyway, this is exciting.” Her positive energy must have been infectious. The smell of sweat and testosterone wasn’t as nauseating to Janie now. And the guys didn’t look that bad in their singlets. Not that she was interested.

  In the first match, a Raider pinned his opponent in twenty seconds. The stands erupted in wild celebration. Two more Loch Raven Raiders wrestled opponents and won by considerable points. Janie joined in the school spirit, screaming, clapping and leaping out of her seat with the rest of the fans. Suddenly, she doubled over and started to wheeze.

  “Are you okay, J?” Ava helped steady Janie.

  “I’m fine. I just need my inhaler. I left it in your car.” Janie drew a shaky breath. She held out her hand for the keys. “Watch the match. I’ll be right back.”

  Janie couldn’t believe she’d forgotten her inhaler. She wondered why the Apotheosis, a group of ancient Seekers who organized and ran the Seeker organization and set up chapters in each city to oversee problems, created a Seeker with asthma. It kind of sucked when she had to take a break from fighting evil to use her inhaler. Usually, if she used it before Seeking, she was okay. Tonight, obviously, that was not the case. I knew I shouldn’t have attended the wrestling match. It’s apparently bad for my health. Lesson learned.

  Janie crossed the parking lot, found Ava’s car, opened the passenger door, and reached into the console to retrieve her inhaler. The pleasant relief filtered into her lungs. She exhaled into the crisp autumn air, her warm breath expelling from her lips like a puff of smoke. The wind nipped through her dark gray hoodie, sending her into a whole-body shiver.

  Stars sparkled in the cloudless night sky. Each star seemed spaced perfectly to create a twinkling picture in the sky. It reminded her of her old Lite-Brite, a toy with multicolored lights that her mother had passed down to her from her childhood. Janie lost herself in the shimmery scene, forgetting about the chilly fall air and her bizarre encounter with Kai. After a few more moments of star-gazing, she decided to head back to the sweaty gym, a sharp contrast to the dry air she currently breathed.

  As she cut through the rows of cars, her skin started to crawl and a deep gnawing sensation grew in her stomach. Janie slowed her pace, striding cautiously down the line of cars. As she stalked forward, her body pulsated and her heart rate quickened. He was close, very close. She knew it without a doubt—it was a Daychild.

  One advantage Seekers had over their prey was their ability to eliminate the element of surprise. It was impossible for a vampire or a Daychild to sneak up on a Seeker, or even stay off a Seeker’s radar. All Seekers could feel the undead’s proximity through waves of tell-tale goose bumps. Janie referred to it as her sixth sense, or Seeker sense—where her hair stands up on her arms and the back of her neck. How to detect the presence of vampires or Daychildren was one of the first skills she learned during training. Honing in on the ingrained feeling to hunt and survive served as an imperative strategy for saving lives, including hers.

  She heard a shout—a deep voice—followed by a loud crunch of metal. Janie ran in the direction of the commotion, about one row from where she stood. Overhead lights illuminated part of the parking lot. Other areas were only lit by the stars and a crescent white moon. Still focusing on the struggle, she retrieved her silver dagger from her boot.

  A passage from her mentor’s teachings cycled through her head. “Things are much different now. A demon is a human who has been taken over by a fallen angel. One night the vampire king drained the blood of a demon, creating a hybrid vampire. Daychildren—vampires that can walk in the sunlight and possess demonic abilities.”

  Janie spotted the Daychild and his victim. She agreed with Abram. Things were much different than they used to be.

  The Daychild had a student pinned to the hood of a red Ford pickup. The guy squirmed, doing his best to fend the monster off with his muscular arms, but his attacker had the upper hand. The Daychild forced his head down to the guy’s neck. Lesson four—save innocents, but minimize exposure. She didn’t see how this was possible, but despite herself, she heard herself speak up.

  “Hey! If you want to mess with someone, mess with me.” She planted her boots firmly on the ground and gripped her dagger. She never had to kill one of them on school grounds before. They usually stayed in the Baltimore city limits, where they could blend into society. With Baltimore’s murder rate continuously on the rise, many of the deaths weren’t fully investigated, and were considered gang activity. This Daychild was brave, coming all the way out to the suburbs—her turf.

  The Daychild raised his head from his victim and cocked it, appraising Janie. He was in his thirties, unattractively balding, chunky and short. Releasing the boy from his grasp, Pudgy jumped off the hood of the car and strode over to Janie. His deep black holes studied her. He licked his lips and balled his hands into fists.

  “Hey, pretty girl. How would you like some of this?” He laughed, and the rolls of his stomach jiggled, giving the phrase ‘bowl full of Jell-O’ new meaning. Janie swallowed the bile rising in her throat and pressed forward.

  “I’d love some,” she taunted. She rotated to the side, taking a fighting stance with her fists covering her face for protection.

  He leapt forward. She spun into roundhouse kick to the gut, forcing him backward into the pickup’s fender. He stumbled awkwardly onto his feet, his cocky smile replaced with a hateful scowl. “You’ll pay for that,” he hissed.

  “Let me have it,” she said teasingly. With her free hand, she made a come-to-me gesture.

  He lunged at her, fast and clumsy. She lifted her leg into an outside-inside kick and caught the side of his head with the insole of her boot, knocking him to the ground. He caught his fall with his hands and looked up, glaring at her with his hateful black eyes.

  It was time. She plunged her silver dagger through his skull. He let out a horrifying growl. His body shook, and green blood oozed from his head. His fleshy mass disappeared, sucked into the earth—or, for him, Hell.

  Janie scooped her dagger off the ground and still fueled with adrenaline, marched over to the curb. She drew the blade across the cold, stiff grass to remove any traces of blood and shoved her favorite Cherokee dagger back into her boot.

  Remembering the guy on the pickup, she flicked her eyes over to the hood. The guy sat, legs tucked into his chest, with his arms wrapped around his knees.

  Janie assessed the situation; it wasn’t good. She’d definitely failed lesson four—minimize exposure. The guy had seen her kill the Daychild, and even worse, she suddenly recognized him—the Junior Prom King.

  Matt Baker jumped off the hood of the pickup, staring at her wide-eyed. Tall and strong, with eyes the color of autumn leaves turning from sage to chestnut, the girls flipped out over his dark brown, tousled thirty-second hairdo and killer dimples. “W—What w—was that?”

  “You tell me. He was attacking you,” Janie said.

  “But—you killed him.” Matt blinked hard.

  “Don’t worry, he wasn’t human, and if it wasn’t for me you’d be a corpse without blood.” She bent over and pushed her dagger deeper into her boot. If she were caught with a weapon on school property, she’d be expelled.

  “The d—dude tried to b-b-bite my neck.” He clutched his throat.

  “He’s part vamp, they do that. Are you okay?”

  He moved his hands up and down his body. “Yeah, um, I’m cool, thanks.”

  Janie felt uncomfortable. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her since she had saved him from a very painful death. “What are you doing out here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be wrestling?”

  “I left my headgear in Pete’s truck.” He rubbed his forehead.

  She nodded. “Look—you’re fine, so let’s just forget this happened and all is good.” Janie knew she’d be ridiculed at school tomorrow. As soon as he told Molly about what happened, she would make sure Janie was ostracized even more than usual. She’d h
ave to leave high school early for the first time, not that it sounded like a bad idea. She just didn’t know how the Apotheosis would handle her exposure.

  “You saved my life,” he said.

  Janie broke his unflinching gaze. “You’d better get back in there before you miss your match. I’d hate for you to mess up your perfect ‘pin-everyone-in-ten-seconds’ record.”

  “You know about my record?” he said, grinning at last.

  “It was just a guess.” She turned in the direction of school. “I’ve got to go. Be careful.”

  “Wait!” He jogged up beside her and kept pace.

  “There’s nothing left to talk about.” She pressed on, hoping he would take the hint and go away. He didn’t.

  “I’m not gonna say anything. Anyway, everyone will think I’ve lost it.” He half-laughed.

  “Uh-huh.” She tried to limit their communication as much as she could, but he wasn’t having it.

  “It was really cool what you did. How did you learn all those moves?” His confused stuttering had turned into excited curiosity. “You were like a tiny Bruce Lee.” Out of her peripheral vision, he made a karate-chop gesture.

  Her straight lips parted into an unintentional smirk, and she let out a quick chuckle at his lame imitation. Five minutes ago, this guy was practically in a fetal position, and now he’s making jokes.

  “Are you laughing?”

  “No, I think you’re ridiculous,” she said, still stifling a smile.

  “Janie Grey, you think I’m funny.”

  “I don’t think you’re funny.”

  “So tell me, really—how did you learn to take down dudes?” His karate chop hand gestures returned.

  Now only feet from the door, she wanted to run to the entrance. She felt uncomfortable and completely enraged by her abnormal, jittery “boy feelings.” She stopped mid-step and turned to face him. “Look, I don’t want to talk about it. You’re fine. Please go away and forget this ever happened.”

  “Why are you so mad at me?” His once-prominent dimples disappeared.

  “I’m sure you’re an okay guy and all, but I really can’t discuss this with you.” She dipped her head and returned his gaze. “There’s nothing left to say.”

  His hazel eyes bore into her. “Yeah. I have a match to win.” He pushed his shoulders back, re-aligning his spine, and strode into school.

  Good. That’s where you belong—in school, with the rest of them, not with me.

  The next morning, Janie walked into first period, fidgeting with the string edging of her gray scarf. She knew it; she was going to be exiled to Siberia. People were going to look at her, and people never looked at her.

  A thin girl with frizzy hair peered up from her backpack as she loaded her locker with books. The girl quickly broke her stare and placed a textbook on the shelf. Janie recognized her from English class. An Asian couple holding hands passed by, but unlike the girl, they ignored her. Maybe Matt didn’t say anything.

  To Jane’s relief, it was turning out to be an uneventful day, but she hadn’t had History with the cheerleaders yet.

  She noticed Molly standing outside the classroom in her uniform. Her loyal posse swarmed around her like bees to a hive. Janie slid by undetected. Molly didn’t even glance in her direction. She doesn’t know.

  After class, she met Ava and her only other friend, Luke, by her locker. Luke rewrapped his stylish scarf around his thin neck over a fitted cream sweater, tapered dress pants and tan loafers. Luke Turner was a good-looking kid in a dorky, boyish kind of way. He was of average height, somewhat nerdy, but always fashion-conscious. He wore thinly rimmed glasses after getting an eye infection from wearing contact lenses. He had assured Ava and Janie that he would switch back to blue contacts within the month; brown eyes were evidently not “posh.” Plus, blue apparently proved a good contrast to his dark brown hair. He followed the latest fashion trends, even if they only belonged on a runway. His tight, tapered jeans looked great on the members of Fall Out Boy, but on Luke, they made his legs appear even more pencil-thin.

  “What’s for lunch?” he said. “No fast food. I’m watching my figure.”

  “Are we going off campus?” Ava asked Luke, but his eyes were locked on something else.

  Janie followed Luke’s stare, then wished for a large rock to materialize and block her from his view.

  “Hi, Janie,” Matt said.

  Janie lined up Ava’s textbooks along her shelf, ignoring Matt and still waiting for the large rock to appear.

  “Janie, Matt’s talking to you. Aren’t you going to answer?” Luke’s voice fluttered like he had a butterfly lodged in his throat.

  Janie turned to face Matt. “Hi.”

  “You look good, considering—” Matt made a see-saw motion with his eyes.

  “I already know,” Ava said.

  “Know what?” Luke eyed them.

  “Nothing,” Janie and Ava said.

  “Why do I feel like I’m missing something?” Luke cocked his head, giving Matt the once-over. “And why are you here?” He cleared his throat. “Sorry to be rude, what I meant to say was—”

  “Why are you here?” Janie finished.

  “Janie, can I talk with you?” Matt said. “Alone?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever will get you to go away faster.”

  “We’ll meet you outside at the car,” Ava said, shutting her locker and starting for the door. Luke didn’t budge. “Luke, now.” Ava snapped her fingers.

  “Okay, fine, harsh much,” Luke said. Ava dragged him down the hallway by his scarf. Janie spotted them arguing in the distance. One of Luke’s hands rested on his hip while the other made figure-eights in the air.

  “So, you’re going off campus for lunch?” Matt said.

  “You’re asking me about lunch?” Janie noticed Molly glaring at her from across the hall.

  “I guess that’s pretty lame.” He followed her gaze. “Forget about Molly.”

  “Easy for you to say.” She left Molly’s I’d-like-to-kill-you expression and focused back on Matt’s gorgeous hazel stare.

  “Are you okay?” He brushed his fingers along the side of her eye. “Did that happen last night?”

  Janie touched her eye. She’d tried to cover the mark with her dark eye shadow and heavy studio foundation. She found it covered the lingering bruises better than regular cover-up. Fortunately, Seekers healed faster than the average human.

  “Yes, but not with you—” Janie caught herself. “I mean, I’m fine. Is there something you need, or can we end this conversation?”

  He fidgeted with something in his jacket pocket and focused on the floor, surprising even himself. He was usually so confident when it came to girls. “Uh—I just wanted to thank you again for last night.”

  Her voice softened. “No problem. I guess I should thank you for not saying anything.”

  His eyes returned to hers. He paused, looking for the right words. “You’re different, you know, than other girls.”

  “Wow—thanks for pointing out the obvious.”

  He stepped closer, moving into her personal space. “No, I don’t mean that in a bad way.” His smile was comforting. A feeling she didn’t feel “comfortable” having.

  “Look, I’ve got to meet my friends. Don’t sweat last night. It’s over. You can go back to doing whatever wrestlers do.” She bit her tongue. She sounded like an idiot.

  “I’ll see you around, Janie.” He touched her arm.

  “Sure.” She squirmed out of his reach. “See ya.”

  Janie sat on the cold sidewalk staring at the large neon “Power Plant Live!” sign. It towered over a semi-circle of linked buildings, housing bars and restaurants, and lined an expansive courtyard. During the summer, the courtyard was a popular venue for concerts, but too cold for outdoor concerts in November. Janie checked her cell—college night in downtown Baltimore. Drunken students would spill out of the bars after last call, perfect prey for the undead.

  There h
ad been a rash of unexplained deaths in the area. Janie figured the murders had to do with the growing population of Daychildren. Ever since she reached the age to Seek, more and more had been born. True vamps were usually not a problem anymore. They seemed to be evolving, wanting to live among the human world without issue. They looked down upon demons. Most vampires had no interest in drinking a demon’s filthy blood, let alone changing a demon into a vampire, creating the vampire/demon half-breed known as Daychildren.

  “Find any?” Kai said. Janie jumped off the curb, tripping on a crack in the asphalt. She righted herself. He started to laugh. “It just kills you that you can’t feel me coming.”

  “What do you want?” Letting her heart return to its proper place outside of her throat, Janie reached for her dagger.

  “Whoa, you don’t need that. I’m not going to hurt you. I could’ve already killed you.” Kai put his hands out. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

  “Is this fun for you? Some kind of game?” Janie retrieved the blade from her boot. She didn’t trust him.

  “Your eye looks awful.” He pointed to her bruised face.

  Janie stared at the three jagged scars lining his forearm. White lines appeared where new tissue had formed. Judging by their location, they appeared to be defensive wounds, as if he were protecting his face from something or someone. She thought it odd. Vampires, or Daychildren, in Kai’s case, didn’t scar. Their bodies healed quickly without leaving a mark. She guessed the scars had formed during his human days.

  She ignored his comment about her eye. “You know I have to kill you. It’s my job.” Her eyes flicked to his waist. His scythe glistened under the light of an overhead lamp post. Thirty degrees outside, and he wore a T-shirt. Lucky for him, Daychildren didn’t feel temperature. Janie, on the other hand, could feel every bit of the biting cold, and she shivered.

  Kai nodded, ignoring her. He looked in the direction of the parking garage. “Did you hear that?”

  “What?” Janie clenched her jaw. He distracted her. She couldn’t do her job with him around. “If you’d stop talking to me, I could listen.” She held her breath and focused into the distance. A girl screamed.