Dying To Be Heard (Book 1): Outcry

by Michiels, Jennifer

  She shook her head, rather embarrassed by her actions, and sat up. “What time is it?” she asked.

  Camden reluctantly let her slide out of his arms and watched the cute way her cheeks flushed with color.

  It really was only a scratch. A deep one, but just a scratch. His advanced rate of healing had already taken care of the problem, so he wasn’t worried about it. However, she obviously was. He could see it on her face.

  “Almost five,” he said, and pushed himself up to swing his legs over the edge of the bed.

  She nodded and scrubbed her hands over her face, trying to wipe away the remnants of her dream. That, and her embarrassment. “I’m going to go shower,” she said, and stretched as she stood.

  The tank top she was wearing rose with her arms and exposed her midriff. Camden smiled at the sight of the smooth, creamy skin, but quickly looked away. Though captivated by her, he was going to allow things to happen on her time. He wouldn’t push the subject or try to make her uncomfortable. They’d already had their tongues down each other’s throats, snuggled on more than one occasion, slept together twice now, and flirted constantly, but still, he was going to let her set the pace, no matter how much or how fast he wanted things to escalate.

  Rayne yawned, pulling him from his thoughts, and moved around him to disappear into the hall and shut the bathroom door behind her.

  Camden stood and left the room. He had to drink his last bag of treated blood if they were planning on getting home later.

  The young, blonde-haired vampire sat in the driver’s seat of the Camaro, his bulky companion scrunched into the seat next to him. He reached into the backseat, grabbed a small white bottle, and gulped down his third batch of treated blood in the last two hours.

  The two of them stared out the windshield at the row of brick apartment buildings ahead.

  “This shit is getting weaker and weaker,” the burly vampire said with a grunt, and tossed his own bottle over his shoulder into the backseat.

  Christophe gave him a side glance. His new partner was somewhat rough around the edges, and the six hours they’d been sitting together in the vehicle hadn’t helped him grow accustomed to his crudeness.

  However, his personality seemed to fit his whole outer look. While he somewhat resembled Mathias in build, his pitch-black hair and goatee was the opposite from the former’s dirty blonde. Just looking at them, it would have been difficult to guess that they were brothers.

  “Well, we’re on our fourth host. If everyone had a little more self-control, we could still be on the first, and not have to drink every half hour.”

  Ed shrugged. “Ain’t my fault. We were on two when I started, and three didn’t go until after I came here.”

  There was a short silence before he spoke again. “I was watching this chick for a few weeks before she up and left to Louisiana. Nothing spectacular.” His mouth widened into a sleazy grin. “She ain’t too bad to watch in the shower, though.”

  Christophe rolled his eyes. There were about a million other things he could think of that he would rather be doing than sitting in the car with this ape. In fact, he would rather be doing ANYTHING other than being mixed up in the mess he was in now.

  When Mathias had found him holed up in an abandoned warehouse in the heart of downtown Alexandria, he was in the process of getting his new life as a vampire together. The first eight years, he did as he supposed most new vampires did: He stayed hidden, fed when required, spent most of his time getting used to his new body and physical abilities, and all of his time despising his existence as an inhuman entity.

  It wasn’t natural. People weren’t meant to become immortal and feed off of one another. However, he’d finally come to terms that this was who he was, and that there was no going back. He eventually figured out how to make money, in underground fighting, without anyone knowing his true state.

  His small frame and young appearance had everyone betting against him. When he stepped into the ring and defeated everyone he went up against, it was a no-brainer that he’d found his claim to fame.

  He had a fair amount of cash saved up, and was thinking about purchasing a house instead of staying in the rotting warehouse, but that was when he met Mathias. He’d been given the scoop on an elixir that could change everything for vampires. It sounded like something he wanted to be a part of, so he agreed to sign on. It wasn’t until six months after he’d been recruited that he found out the whole story.

  Their “master,” as he was to be called, was bent on world domination. There would be no peaceful existence between vampires and humans. He wanted vampires to be feared, hated, and ruling over anything that was not one of them.

  By then, it was too late. He was in, and the only way out now was death. Christophe sighed and stared ahead blankly, his blue eyes shielded by his dark shades. They both sat in silence, something that Christophe was thankful for. He wasn’t too keen on listening to the filth that spewed from Ed’s mouth.

  “Here we go,” Ed said, and leaned forward, squinting his eyes.

  Christophe shifted in his seat and watched as a taxi pulled up outside of the first row of apartments. Just a few seconds later, the front door opened and two people stepped out.

  The first, a tall male with black hair, he recognized as one of his kind. He wore a leather jacket and shades, and glanced about cautiously before being followed by a slender woman.

  He removed his shades and squinted to allow his advanced vision to zoom in. They looked oddly familiar. Where have I seen them? Then it hit him: They were the ones at Madame Laurie’s a few nights ago when he was following one of the bodyguards.

  Ed saw the look on his partner’s face and immediately knew something wasn’t right. “Something wrong?” he asked in his gruff voice.

  Christophe sat back and exhaled forcefully. “I think the game plan just changed.”

  Ed cocked an eyebrow and glanced back at the two climbing into the back of the taxi. “What do you mean?”

  He started the engine and put the Camaro in drive, slowly inching forward, so as to not arouse any suspicion. “I was following the bodyguard a few nights ago back in Louisiana. Those two were there. I know they saw me; they looked right at me a few times. If we follow them out in the open, they’ll know it’s us coming.”

  Ed placed his dark sunglasses back on his face. “You think they knew it had something to do with them?”

  Christophe shrugged and followed a good ways behind the yellow car. “Probably. They showed up a little after their friend.”

  “Dipshit! Why didn’t you try to grab them then?”

  Christophe narrowed his eyes but stayed focused straight ahead. “Because, Dipshit,” he said, emphasizing the word, “the only photos we had of them were with your brother when he went all gung-ho and got himself killed. I had no idea what they looked like.”

  He braced himself for an uproar at the mention of his brother, but it never came.

  Ed shrugged. “The asshole should have known better.”

  The rest of the ride was in silence, Christophe staying a close distance behind the vehicle and watching its every move closely. They finally stopped outside of a large shopping outlet and watched as a short, round girl came bounding up to the vehicle, nearly tackling their target as she got out. Christophe killed the engine. “All right. Showtime.”

  Marshall Brennan sat at his desk in the back room of his quaint little house and typed something into the computer. His large square glasses sat on the end of his nose, and he occasionally looked over them at the screen.

  It may have been twenty-something years since he’d had anything to do with the project, but he’d been so engrossed in it, he was confident he could remember almost everything. He swiveled in his chair and rolled it over to a microscope on another table just behind him. Grabbing the vial of blood he’d taken from Rayne, he used a dropper and placed the tiniest drop onto a small, rectangular piece of glass. He placed another on top, sandwiching the sample between the two, and v
ery carefully placed it under the microscope.

  He took a deep breath and removed his glasses to look into the instrument. He remained motionless, studying the appearance of the individual cells. There it was, plain as day, and exactly how he’d remembered the original sample to look.

  He laughed to himself and clapped his hands together as if in victory. “Aha!” he laughed. “Incredible!” He couldn’t believe it. After twenty years in the host, the ancient, witch-doctor blood had to have completely rearranged the DNA in Rayne’s blood cells. It was definitely still human, but the odd characteristics they’d only ever seen in the original samples were there.

  Maybe the rumors, legends, and myths were all true. Maybe the Petonukili Tribe were a magical, holy species, or super-humans, or as some had called them, “gods among us.”

  Whatever they were, it was astonishing and unbelievable what one dose of their blood in the human body could do. If only Harry was there to see what they had managed to do all those years ago! He clapped his hands again and spun around excitedly before sitting and trying to calm himself. He returned to his computer and began typing furiously.

  Then, another thought popped into his mind.

  If anyone else finds out, Rayne is as good as dead. If not worse.

  His fingers stopped their tapping, and he sat back. If the wrong people found out about it, it wouldn’t be just her who was in trouble. He ran his hands through his greying hair and sighed. “Not good.”

  Camden followed closely behind Rayne and her best friend, occasionally rolling his eyes at their chatter and girlish habits. His shades and leather jacket in place, he kept his head on a swivel and continuously scanned the area.

  The girls walked arm-in-arm just a few steps ahead of him, giggling and talking animatedly. It was such a relief to have at least a little time to spend with Layla. Maybe this would be the decompression time that she needed to keep her going strong for the next round of whatever the world had to throw at her.

  Layla gasped and pointed at a window with the free hand that wasn’t loaded with bags. “That one!” she said excitedly, and steered her friend through the door of the store.

  Camden laughed to himself and followed. He wasn’t a big fan of shopping, but it was nice to see Rayne enjoying herself. So, for whatever pain it caused him, it was a price worth paying. The girls zigged and zagged through the aisles of clothes, inspecting this and grimacing at that. He stayed close, but out of the way.

  “What about this one, Rayne?” Layla asked, holding up a black halter dress that looked as though it fit like a second skin.

  “Ooh. I like that!” she said, and held it against her.

  The pudgy girl nodded her approval and pulled it from the rack.

  Camden rolled his eyes again for what felt like the thousandth time since their little outing began a few hours ago. He didn’t want to break up the fun, but it was getting close to time for heading back to Louisiana.

  He moved a little closer to the duo and was about to speak when his cell phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, he furrowed his brows at he studied the unrecognizable number. Cautiously, he answered and glanced around nervously. “Hello?”

  “Camden! It’s Marsh…”

  The last part of his sentence was all jumbled with signal interference. “Dr. Brennan?” he asked.

  Rayne’s head jerked toward him at the mention of the scientist’s name.

  “Ye…” another garbled statement came through.

  “Dr. Brennan, I can’t understand you. Hold on.”

  Rayne watched as her vampire companion moved closer to the door. She turned back to Layla and forced a smile, not wanting to give away that anything was amiss. But it has to be, right? Why else is he calling Camden? She doubted it was for a leisurely chat, seeing as to how he reacted to the two of them yesterday.

  Camden stood at the all glass front of the store and strained his advanced hearing to see if he could make out more of what was being said. “Dr. Brennan?” he asked again.

  “Camden!”

  This time, it was a little clearer. “I can hear you now.”

  A sigh of relief came from the other end. “Good. Camden, listen to me,” he began. “I looked at the samples of Rayne’s blood.”

  Camden nodded, even though Dr. Brennan could not see him. “Ok.”

  “It’s incredible! Her body has bonded with the serum she was given as a child.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not following you.”

  “It’s her, Camden!” the scientist nearly yelled. “She IS the formula! It’s running through her veins right this very second!”

  His eyes widened. “You mean…” his voice trailed off as his brain ran circles around a million different possibilities.

  “Yes!” he yelled, his voice somewhere between excited and fearful. “You have to keep her safe! You know what this means if the wrong people find out.”

  Camden jerked his head to where the two were previously standing, only to find nothing but their bags on the floor. His heart felt as though it had dropped out of his chest, and the phone fell to the floor. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move.

  “Rayne!” He yelled out. Using his inhuman speed, he raced around the small department store, searching every nook and cranny, only to come up empty-handed.

  In seconds, he was picking his phone up off the floor. “They’ve got her. Pack your bags and leave now. They’ll be coming for you, too. I’ll be in touch,” he said, trying to catch his breath as he hung up the phone.

  His stomach did flip-flops, and he felt as though he were going to be sick.

  What have I done? How did I let this happen? he asked himself, pacing the space and frustratedly running his hands through his hair.

  Thinking quickly, he dialed a number and waited until it was answered on the second ring. “Connor. Get the jet and get here now. They’ve got her.”

  He replaced the device into his pocket and left the building, not caring if anyone noticed his speed. He had to find her. He had to get her back. Not just for the sake of the human world, but for himself. He couldn’t live without her, not now. He knew then that he’d fallen in love with Rayne Slade, and he would get her back if he died trying.

  Somewhere along the way, whether it began from the stories of her grandfather or a week ago when they were tossed together in a hurricane of turmoil, it didn’t matter. He now belonged to her.

  Chapter 20

  Rayne and Layla stared at each other, tears of horror staining their cheeks as they sat bound in the back of the car. The silver duct tape covering their mouths prevented them from screaming, and the same at their wrists and feet to keep them from escaping nearly was suffocating.

  Her bright green eyes stared across the dimness of the vehicle as it sped away from downtown Seattle, trying to console her best friend. She wished she’d told Layla about everything. The poor girl had no clue what was going on or why it was happening. For all she knew, they were the victims of a random kidnapping.

  But Rayne knew better. She immediately recognized the blonde-haired vampire as Christophe, and although she’d never seen the other, he oddly reminded her of the one from the hotel.

  Her black-haired friend sobbed and squeezed her eyes shut as if she were trying to wake up from a nightmare.

  “I’m sorry,” Rayne mumbled inaudibly against the tape. “I should have told you.”

  Layla shook her head and continued to pull against her restraints.

  “Hey! Cut it out back there!” the large vampire barked.

  The girls jumped at his command and immediately stilled.

  Every possible scenario was running through Rayne’s head. Would they kill them both? Would they be tortured? Would Camden come for them? Of course he will. She tried to reassure herself.

  She closed her eyes and began to pray to whoever was listening that they would make it through this. How had she even let it happen? How had Camden let this happen? One moment, they were laughing over clothes, the next,
both of them were grabbed from behind, their mouths covered, and dragged from the department store at incredible speeds.

  It was all so surreal, and fear twisted her gut.

  Christophe never said a word the entire ride, only stared straight ahead and refused to have any interaction the with two other than their restraints. He wasn’t a fan of forcing others against their will, no matter the cause. He only did it because he had to. There was no other choice.

  Pulling the vehicle into the driveway of an old, abandoned house on the outskirts of town, he killed the engine and exited the car. He and his companion flipped the seats forward and pulled the hostages from the back, Layla kicking and screaming with everything she had.

  Rayne didn’t bother. She knew they could crush the both of them in an instant if they wanted. She cut a sideways glance to her best friend and tried to calm her, shaking her head and encouraging her to stop.

  But she didn’t. It only served to invigorate her efforts.

  Christophe and Ed brought them inside the dirty-smelling building, with grass and weeds growing from between the cracks in the wooden floor. It looked as though it was going to fall in around them at any moment, the boards creaking and cracking with each step.

  “Hey Ed, is that you?” An unfamiliar voice came from somewhere in the back of the house.

  Ed pushed Layla down into a wooden chair that looked just as decrepit as the rest of the house, and Rayne expected it to collapse under her weight. Surprisingly, it held. Layla stumbled, trying to catch herself from falling out of it.

  “Yeah it’s us,” the large vampire called back, almost frustrated. “What the hell are you two doing here?” he asked as he stepped through an open doorway and into what Rayne assumed was the kitchen.

  “Boss thought you two would need help.”

  Ed scoffed. “The hell we do! We brought her and an extra back, no problem.”

  “You got her?” the voice asked incredulously. “Well, let’s have a look, shall we?”

  Another vampire emerged from the room, his average build and dirty appearance making him look more like a bum than an immortal being. His dirt-colored hair was slicked back and only added to his already greasy look. “Well, well,” he said, coming to stand in front of them.