Day Dreamer (Undeadly Secrets Book 2)

by Aaron L Speer

  It had the scent. They were together and isolated.

  This was not to be a mere scare tactic like the incident with the teacher. This was not a run through the streets. It was time to hunt. They had beaten Nicholas and threatened his heart’s desire, which alone had sealed their fate. Tonight, I will show no mercy.

  Chapter 34

  It’s Nothing Personal, I’m Just Taking Your Head

  Quiet. Finally it’s quiet. The ringing in Lauren’s ears had stopped. The cheers had been silenced. Perhaps they had done enough to her. Perhaps she had bled enough for them.

  How long had she been here, tied with her hands to this fucking pole? Days, weeks? She couldn’t even tell. Looking at the pool of her own half-dried blood below her, it might be close to a month.

  She rested her head against her shoulder, hiding her eyes from them. She couldn’t look down anymore. Seeing the blood and sores across her chest and stomach was like reliving the events that caused them all over again. Calibos had kept carving a huge ‘S’ into her torso. S for Slade—Wilson Slade, their Alpha. At least they could’ve lied and told her it was Supervamp. She didn’t need to breathe but she tried to calm herself with a sigh, and gagged as the stench of her own breath reflected off her arm. She didn’t want to imagine what the rest of her looked or smelt like.

  The cool night air touched her dead skin, from the little sensation she still had in her nerve-endings, she could tell there were copious amounts of caked-on blood drying and crumbling on her face like some kind of horrible mud mask, left on for way too long.

  A rough pair of hands titled her head, checking if she was alive.

  “Matt…” she coughed in a voice that resembled a wheezing croak. “Please…”

  “Why?”

  Lauren wobbled her stone-like head to look at him properly, or attempt to. He had never spoken back to her before. He seemed as confused as his speech. “Talk. All the time. Me, know? Do you? Do I?”

  “That’s enough, Matty!”

  Calibos led Matt back to his position. Night after night, the same thing. Knives and bullets driven into her, and all by the same guy she had shared numerous drinks with over three years. The guy that made dick and fart jokes. The guy that had dated her best friend. The guy that she had screwed and fed off only last year. Then broke his back and hospitalized him. Now he was unrecognizable to her in every way.

  Lauren no longer believed that Calibos would set her free. It had been too long. Only the sun had saved her from the eternal sleep. It healed her during the day while she slept, but that just meant she was fresh for another round every night for Zombie Matt to practice his aim. If she wanted out, she would have to break herself out. Or die. That, was fucking well not in her plans.

  Her best weapon against men, her tits, were already on show and had been since she was taken. So what else did she have? Her eyes darted back and forth. She had nothing. All she had ever done to get out of and in trouble was use her body. Even if it was just allowing a glance at her cleavage to get out of speeding tickets or sex with a hot guy that happened to be married. She got what she wanted, always. Except for one time.

  That memory brought back the image of the one man that turned her down, that never showed any interest in her: Dante Delavega. Now she understood why. Where others saw her as hot with a great rack, worthy of a good time, he saw her as empty, a stock-standard shell. His last words to her flowed through her brain, as if the Spaniard were there, talking to her right now. “I look at you and I see two people. The woman you are and the woman you could be.”

  And he was right. Fuck this feeling sorry for yourself shit. I’m not an empty shell. I’m a vampire. Think! She had her invisibility, being so weak she hadn’t even attempted to use it, it was time she mustered the strength.

  “Now, Matty, you’ve been a little bit wonky. I know you need some Dream State but there’s a shortage. You’re starting to talk again, but your skill is now lacking. We will just have to make do for a while,” Calibos raised Matt’s arm directly to where he wanted him to throw. Matt furrowed his brows, trying to concentrate, but it looked like he was dying to piss. Yeah, this is going to end real well.

  Lauren couldn’t close her eyes, she had decided. She had to watch the weapon. She would need to hold perfectly still when the knife hit. No movement whatsoever. That should cause someone to check on her, like the first night. But the way Matt was shaking, that knife could be going anywhere. Matt raised his arm and stopped. Hesitation wasn’t doing anything for Lauren’s nerves.

  “Go!” Calibos said.

  Matt flung the knife sidearm, and it thundered straight above Lauren’s head. She felt nothing but the thud of the blade into the wood above her. She held herself like a statue.

  “Goddammit!” Calibos threw his hands up in the air. Like he cares, thought Lauren, annoyed. “Matty, what’s going on, bud? I know you’re running on empty, but this shit is ridiculous! That wasn’t even close to her shoulder.” He gestured to Lauren, taking notice of her. He stilled before moving quickly towards her. He clutched her face in one hand and jerked it upwards. She stared blankly ahead, letting her body sag the moment he jostled her. “Bloody hell… Oi! Get me one of those bags.”

  A blood bag was slapped into his outstretched palm and Calibos pulled the knife from the pole and sliced it open. Tilting Lauren’s head back farther, he opened her jaw and tipped the contents down her throat and over her face. She craved all of it, but didn’t want to let on that she was not as dead as she was pretending to be. In the splashback she could only afford a generous gulp before letting the rest run out of her mouth, sagging back down as he released her. “Well, that plan is fucked.” He punctuated this by shoving the knife blade back into the wooden post.

  “I told you we should’ve either killed the bitch or let her go ages ago!”

  Lauren didn’t know who the voice belonged to, and didn’t care. All she cared about was Calibos. He whirled around to confront the speaker. “What was that?”

  “You heard me!”

  “Calm down, the both of you…”

  Shouts erupted back and forth. This was Lauren’s chance. She had no idea if the blood she had taken was enough, but with all her might, she clenched her stomach, let her body seize up. She raised her wrists to give the appearance of slack on the straps. It was now or never. C’mon…c’mon! Hide me.

  “Oi! Where the fuck did she go?”

  Lauren chanced a look down, seeing nothing but bloodied asphalt. It worked! She faced the pack. She was right in front of them.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “It must be some kind of trick. Find the bitch!”

  “You said we were going to let her go anyway, so who the hell cares?”

  “I care! She can’t have gotten far. Let’s go.”

  All of them left her. This was the worst time. Desperation to escape vied with the fear they were still too close by. She didn’t know how long her ability would last. But perhaps luck was on her side. She licked as much blood off her face as she could and glanced up at the knife still in the pole. Completely forgotten by all. Except her.

  In seconds her binds were no more. She was free. Although it took two attempts to stand, she did so. She moved like a newborn foal, but still she moved, keeping to the back streets, the dark alleyways. All the while, she remained invisible, the fear it could be temporary gripping her.

  There was no way she could travel to the mansion from here, but she had to get out of Redfern. The farther she went, the colder the night got until she saw the only light in the darkness. The train line. She didn’t know which direction it was going and she didn’t care. Either direction was safety in the short term. Her body was flickering, coming in and out of view. She ran as hard as she could along the length of the fence. On and on she went, keeping to the fence. The stations were fortunately closed, so there were no people so far.

  The screech of tires in front of her from a car that almost tipped in its urgency to turn into the stre
et made her stop. She hid against the trunk of a tree as finally her power had worn out and he headlights were the only illumination in the black, deserted street.

  “Give me a fucking break.”

  All notions she may have had that the driver was not looking for her were cast aside as it crept along, closing the distance between them. The driver’s door opened. Lauren readied herself, clicking her fangs down.

  “Lauren? Are you there? It’s me!”

  “Lackey…?”

  Lauren stepped out from the tree and covered her eyes. Clive rushed to her, wriggling out of his jacket, but before he could reach her, the relief and leftover fear rushed over her and she crumpled to her knees, tears flowing, arms held out. Clive wrapped his still-warm jacket around her and held her close.

  “It’s ok,” he patted her hair. “I’ve got you.”

  Lauren hugged him tighter. Kissing his cheek, moving down to his neck. Before she knew it, her fangs were buried in his flesh.

  “Lauren? Wait, no, please!”

  She couldn’t stop herself. She closed her eyes and sucked his essence with nothing more than grunts to match his screams, before her head was yanked off his neck.

  “That’s enough, young lady.”

  Julian held her at arm’s length, keeping her face at bay.

  *

  “What’s wrong with you?” Miller asked through a loud burp. “Your taste is in your arse. I bet she tastes like fruit syrup.”

  “Give it up, dude. She is not interested.”

  “She isn’t, is she?”

  “No. Please tell me you’re finally getting that?”

  “I guess,” Miller replied, taking a swig of beer. “She wants that pommy poof.”

  “Who knows, who cares? Let’s just stay away from them, yeah?”

  “After I break his legs.”

  “Aw, come on. You’re talking crazy man,” Jason said.

  “Crazy? Look at my fucking hands!” Miller replied, holding both his plastered hands up. “You expect me to let him walk away?”

  “I told you what would happen if we went after him again.”

  “Yeah, and what has happened? Nothing! We have gone at him—”

  “You have gone at him.”

  Jason was such a whiner sometimes. “Aw, shut up. We have gone at him twice and nothing has happened.”

  “Look at your hands!”

  Miller scoffed. “No freak with fangs has appeared to us, you dick. Christ almighty, sometimes I feel like I am the only person with a brain in a world of shitheads. Hand me another beer.”

  Miller heard gargling, but no response. He turned. Jason appeared to be levitating, head to the side, choking. Miller took a step forward when a terrible, continuous popping sound like a bunch of bubble wrap being stepped on stung his ears. Jason gave a partial yet harsh scream and his body crumpled over, falling with a gush of blood to the floor. Miller’s eyes switched from Jason’s body to the person standing over him.

  Miller couldn’t stop staring at his face. Nick Slade, smiling like a maniac. But it wasn’t him…it couldn’t be. He was all wrong. His hair had grown wild, and silver eyes glared out at him. The teeth were as sharp as spikes on a pitchfork. He stood straight and proud, holding something out, presenting it to Miller. With a sick realisation, Miller recognised Jason’s spine, oozing blood the consistency of syrup.

  “Hello, Trent. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.”

  The voice was Slade’s, but with a colder sheen to it.

  Miller, eyes locked onto the gory sight of his friend’s spine, was paralysed with fear. He spoke as if hypnotised, his voice was merely floating on the crisp cool air. “What the fuck have you done?”

  “I have given him a quick death. A concession I will not make twice.” Slade dropped Jason’s spine with no emotion whatsoever. It tumbled to the floor just as Slade crouched low, eyes blazing, and the strange version of Nick advanced on Miller. On all fours.

  Miller scrambled backward, nearly tripping over a bench in his attempt to get away.

  “It’s fun to frighten people, isn’t it, Trent?”

  *

  With a short, savage lunge, the wolf pushed Miller to the ground. It did not stop Miller from crawling backwards, frantically putting as much distance as possible between them. The wolf moved effortlessly, however not stopping its slow crawling towards him.

  “It’s not so fun when you’re the one being frightened, though, is it?”

  The wolf pounced, driving his foot directly to Miller’s fibula, shattering the bone to pieces. Blood seeped from the shards that ripped through the surface of his skin. Miller could barely get the scream of agony out before his bottom jaw snapped into his top. The wolf’s viscous kick crumbling it. Miller turned, spewing a fountain of blood, broken teeth, and bone on the floor.

  “That’s how you kick.”

  Miller made a pathetic half-gasp sound that brought a smile to the wolf. The wolf grasped his mangled, lopsided jaw, holding him on his back and in place. “You will not hurt anyone anymore.”

  The wolf dug its nails into Miller’s face and ripped its hand down his body, opening his throat, chest and stomach to fresh air. When it got to his groin, the wolf dug even deeper, reaching the pelvis with the tip of his nails and slowly pulled the penis and testicles away from the body. The wolf held its blood soaked hand high and flicked Miller’s body. Miller lay twitching, coughing and spluttering, unable to move or even scream.

  “I leave you here to die slowly, in your own blood and organs. You should’ve chosen another life, my dear fellow. Or a safer target.” The wolf raised its head and howled to the sky in victory.

  *

  Julian snapped to, listening. The sound was accompanied by a subtle tremor that briefly shook the very ground they stood on. Lauren’s words carried his thoughts.

  “What the fuck was that?”

  Julian let her go. He tilted his head, trying to place the direction. “East of here. No. South-East Not far.”

  “Was it a bomb?”

  Julian ignored her and concentrated, disappearing with his usual pop.

  Julian appeared in a park, with few lights. Actually only one, and that was flickering. He took a step in the darkness and broken glass crunched underfoot. So there were lights, but the sound has busted the lamps? This was almost the exact spot the sound had come from, yet there was no sign of a blaze nor did any burning smell reach him. It definitely wasn’t a bomb. What he did smell, however, was the smell of death. Very fresh, too.

  And blood as well. So much, that he found to the scene simply by following his nose.

  “My, my. You lot are in a sorry state indeed.” Julian ignored the spineless one. The other though, was fading fast.

  “What did this to you, boy?”

  He may as well not have spoken, the boy barely registered. Julian pulled out a vial containing a dark red liquid from his inside pocket and emptied it over the boy’s vital organs. Werewolf blood, he muttered to himself. A precautionary measure, should I ever need it.

  The wounds healed instantly and slowly the colour started returning to the boy’s cheeks. Not much, though. Werewolf blood couldn’t replace blood loss. The kid still didn’t have long. Julian picked him up by the collar. “Oi! What happened to you? What did this?”

  But there was no response. The boy was unconscious, his breathing ragged.

  Julian flung the boy over his shoulder. “Fuckin’ teenagers.”

  He popped and emerged once more beside Lauren and Clive, both also unconscious. Julian rolled his eyes. “Why am I surrounded by a bunch of inept, useless cunts? Well that’s about to change.”

  He flung Lauren over his other shoulder and grabbed Clive with his free hand, popping them all away from this damn place.

  Chapter 35

  A Rumble in the Distance

  Nicole ran her hand over Nick’s position in bed, searching for him. Finding only empty sheets and rumpled blankets woke her up fully. She looked to make sur
e, and in the morning glow from the window, she realised he was indeed gone.

  She reached for her phone, hoping he had left a message, and there was one. But not from him; from Dr Sarsky:

  Miss O’Brien, I received your voicemail. This situation is absolutely ridiculous. Don’t worry, I’ll sort it out. You have my word.

  She sat up and heard footsteps coming up the stairs outside her room. The door slowly opened.

  “Hey, you’re up! I wanted to surprise you.”

  He held a tray in both hands. The smell of bacon and eggs, and the sight of a glass filled with orange juice brought a relieved and happy grin to her face.

  “You made me breakfast in bed?”

  “No, I just bought up a tray from downstairs. I thought it looked nice.”

  She hadn’t even let him put the tray of food on the bedside table before she leaned over and kissed him.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “This is the sweetest thing ever.”

  Pulling back, he scanned her features intently. “Wait a second. Did you think I’d left you?”

  “Maybe, just for a second.”

  “Nikki…” He looked hurt.

  “In my defence, I’ve had that actually happen, and no one has ever made me breakfast in bed.”

  Nick sat on the edge of the bed. “Well, I’d never leave like that. You have my word.”

  “Ok. It’s just, you and me, this is…” she said, trying to gesture the end of her description.

  “A big deal for you,” he finished for her.

  “Huge. And I want to make sure we are on the same page. I don’t know where this is going, but I like it. I really like it. Last night proved something to me. I want to know what you are, the things you can do. What you see.”

  “I don’t know what I am, or what I can do. Any training I’ve had, I wasted because I thought it was pointless. Besides I don’t want you to be in harm’s way.”

  Nicole shrugged this off. “We never know what life’s going to bring us anyway. I could get run over by a car tomorrow. Stepping outside is dangerous. I feel like I am on the edge of something great, something few people ever truly see. And although Dr Sarsky says he can help me…”