Death Day (Book 1): A Night Without Stars

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Death Day (Book 1): A Night Without Stars Page 9

by Jillian Eaton


  His eyes flicked to mine. “I have heard of her. She is not a creature to be trifled with.”

  “A creature?” I repeated. “You make it sound like she’s not even human.”

  “Because she isn’t.”

  I drew in a shaky breath and braced my hands along the edge of the desk. It was time I stopped tiptoeing around the shallow end and dove headfirst into the pool. “You think she’s one of them. A… a vampire.”

  “I do not think,” he corrected, “I know. You need to accept the truth, Lola, if you plan on staying alive.”

  “The truth?” I said incredulously. “You’re saying the truth is that vampires are real and they’re out there, right now” – I flung my hand towards the door – “murdering and pillaging and doing whatever the hell vampires do. Maximus, that’s… that’s impossible. You know that, right? What you’re saying is impossible. What you want me to believe is impossible.”

  “Going back in time is impossible. Turning invisible is impossible. Balancing the national debt is impossible. Blood sucking creatures that have been documented since the beginning of time across the entire world? Not impossible.”

  I made a face. “Next you’ll be telling me they sparkle in the daylight.”

  “No,” he said, giving me his first real smile. “Never that.”

  I didn’t like what that slow, curving smile did to my insides. Now is not a good time to crush on a strange boy you hardly know! My practical side scolded. But so hot… Gray eyes… Dark hair… That mouth… Gah gah…

  Teenage hormones were so stupid. The world as I knew it was being irrevocably changed, Travis was being held captive by a vampire, and my dad – well, it was anyone’s guess. Yet here I was, alternating between being freaked out of my mind and trying to keep the drool from running down my chin.

  Pathetic.

  “So that’s the story you’re sticking with,” I said finally. “Vampires have taken over the little town of Revere, Pennsylvania.”

  Maximus crossed his arms. “They prefer to be called drinkers but yes, what you just said, while a crude summarization, is technically correct.”

  “You know you talk weird, right?”

  “And you, like most Americans, speak at the level of a fifth grader.”

  I squinted at him. “You’re not American?”

  “Canadian.”

  Well, that explained a lot. Another thought occurred to me, one that didn’t sit quite as well as the last. “Wait a sec. If what you’re saying is true—”

  “It is.”

  “—and if Angelique really is a vampire—”

  “She is.”

  “—and if I’m really infected—”

  “You are.”

  “—then does that mean I’m going to turn into one of them?” I looked down at my hand and then up at Maximus, horror written over every inch of my face.

  “No. No,” he repeated firmly when my mouth opened. “There must be equal blood transfusion for a change to take place. Did you drink from her?”

  “Did I… Ew, no way.” I shuddered at the very idea.

  “Then it is impossible for you to turn.”

  I sighed with relief and sagged against the table. “You could have led with that bit, you know. How about next time you try ‘don’t worry Lola, you’re infected, but nothing bad will happen’. How about that?”

  “Because that would be a false statement.” He reached up and absently tucked back a curl that had tumbled into his eyes. For the first time I noticed there was a silver spike poking through the cartilage on his left ear. The piercing was small, no bigger than a quarter of an inch, but deadly sharp. It reminded me of the vampire’s silver fangs, and I felt a chill pass between my shoulder blades that had nothing to do with the temperature of the storage unit.

  “What do you mean, a false statement?” I asked. “Either I’m going to turn into one of those… those things or I’m not. There can’t be an in between.”

  “Those scars on your hand indicate Angelique has marked you. Your blood went into her and became a part of her, which means you two are now connected, albeit a faint connection given she did not take very much blood.”

  “Barely any,” I agreed.

  “Still, she will be able to sense you.” Maximus’ eyes narrowed. “Even now she could be tracking you. Hunting you.”

  “H-hunting me?” I recalled the burning pain when she sank her fangs into my flesh. The choking terror. The certainty of death. Bile rose in my throat, surging up from the empty pit of my stomach. It tasted bitter on my tongue and I swallowed it back down with an audible gulp. “She can’t find me.” I didn’t realize I’d begun to tremble until the desk started to vibrate. “You can’t let her find me. Please.” My eyes were wide and wild. My breathing short and fast. In that moment I was little more than a cornered animal, desperate for a way out. All thoughts of Travis and my father fled. I feared only for myself, and the fear was all encompassing. “Please, you can’t let her find me. You can’t let her—”

  Maximus grabbed my shoulders and gave me a quick, hard shake. “Stop it,” he ordered and, to my surprise, I did. It was impossible not to. He may have been the same age as me, but authority seemed to ooze from his very pores.

  His eyes searched mine, using my weakened state to probe deep into places I never let anyone look. Places I never even looked. I tried to twist my head to the side but he gently grasped my chin, forcing me to stare straight into the shadowy depths of his eyes and see the truth of my own fear reflected back at me. “You cannot afford to panic,” he said softly. “You cannot be afraid. Not now, not ever again. The drinkers feed on blood and weakness. You have already given them a taste of the first, do not allow them to have the second.”

  I came back to myself slowly. With every deep breath I drew the panic subsided until I was left with only a vague sense of embarrassment. “Sorry,” I muttered.

  “For what?”

  “Losing my shit.”

  Another rare smile, another answering flutter deep in my belly. I really needed to get my hormones under control. “Lola, these are extenuating circumstances. You are allowed to ‘lose your shit’.”

  He still had one hand on my shoulder, the other on my jaw. We realized it at the same time and I felt a sense of glib satisfaction surge through me when he flushed and abruptly stepped away, pinning his arms to his sides. If the dull red creeping up from underneath the collar of his leather jacket was any indication, I wasn’t the only one battling teenage hormones.

  “So,” I said briskly, “let’s recap. Crazy ass vampires have taken over the town, my friend Travis is being held hostage, and I need to find my dad.”

  “You are forgetting one important thing.”

  Vampires, check. Travis, check. Dad, check. What else was there? For some inexplicable reason my mind veered to Everett James, but I quickly shook him loose. “What? And by the way, don’t think I’ve forgotten you in all this. Why are you here, anyways?” My eyes narrowed. “And how do you know so much about what is going on? And why do you—”

  “As long as you have those marks on your hand, Angelique will be able to find you,” Maximus said, effectively shutting me up. “There are only two ways to get rid of them.”

  When he hesitated, I all but shouted, “What? Tell me. Tell me!”

  His jaw clenched, the muscles tightening and flexing as though trying to prevent his next words from escaping. “You can either kill the drinker who bit you…”

  Kill Angelique? I barely managed to contain a snort. Not likely.

  “…or cut off your hand.”

  Well, then. It looked like I was going to be killing a vampire.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Point and Shoot

  “How do I do it? A stake to the heart? Poison her with garlic? Throw her out a window at high noon?”

  Maximus’ expression was vaguely pitying. “Does everything you know about vampires come from the movies?”

  “We don’t exactly study them
at school.”

  Reaching behind him, he pulled something from the waistband of his pants. Something very long and very sharp. Something that looked suspiciously like…

  “Is that a knife?” I asked, wide-eyed. “How many weapons do you have?”

  “Enough.”

  How many weapons did one need to fight off a horde of vampires? I didn’t even want to know. Did Dad have any guns in the apartment? I was pretty sure the answer was a big fat no. Mom had never liked them, and with the exception of the drinking and the unemployment Dad never did anything Mom didn’t like.

  It hit me then, so strong I felt the pang of it like a physical blow to the gut. My mother and sister. I hadn’t even thought of them until now. What was wrong with me? Was I really so selfish that I was only capable of thinking about myself? I needed to find a way to reach them, to see if they were okay. Except for a short text message in April (hope school is going well luv mom) my last seven phone calls had gone unanswered. Which meant if I called and no one picked up it would simply be business as usual. If I ever found my phone would there be missed calls on it? Or in a state of chaos was I nothing more than an after thought, ranking somewhere above Dad and below the gardener?

  I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. It was Maximus, angling the knife towards my left hand. He’d moved so fast I hadn’t even seen him until it was too late. With one arm he caught me around the waist and dragged me up against his chest, pinning my arms against my sides and effectively rendering me completely helpless.

  “Are you crazy?” I cried. “What are you doing?”

  “Choose,” he whispered against my ear. The knife wavered in my peripheral vision, the fluorescent light glinting off the silver blade.

  “Choose between you hacking off my hand or killing a vampire?” I bit out through gritted teeth. “Gee, what a decision. How about Option C? The one where you get the hell off of me.”

  He spun me away from him so fast and so hard I almost crashed into a pile of metal chairs. “Why the hell did you do that?”

  “Why would you lock yourself in a storage unit with a complete stranger?” he countered, one eyebrow rising. The knife was gone, most likely tucked back up beneath his jacket. He leaned up against the desk, bracing his arms along the sides. The black t-shirt he wore under the jacket pulled taut, molding to a chiseled set of abs I really couldn’t afford to think about at the moment. “I could be one of them.”

  “You’re not,” I said confidently.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you would have killed me already.”

  His mouth tightened into a hard, flat line. “Exactly. I would have killed you already. You’re defenseless, Lola. Helpless. Hopeless. You need to learn to protect yourself, or you won’t last through the night.”

  I tossed my head back. “And I suppose you’re going to teach me? Who are you, anyways? No changing the subject,” I warned, pointing my finger at him. “And no distractions. Tell me the truth, or I walk.”

  “You walk and you’re dead.”

  “Then I’m dead.” I shrugged. “What do you care?”

  A line appeared in the middle of his forehead as his eyebrows pulled together. He started to speak, changed his mind, and ran a hand through his hair instead, pulling the ends straight up. “I shouldn’t,” he growled after a long pause. “You’re a distraction I can’t afford.”

  I threw my hands up. “Then leave! I’m not your responsibility.” I’m not anyone’s responsibility. I didn’t say the words out loud, but they echoed in my head all the same.

  I was going to find my dad.

  I was going to find Travis.

  But who was coming to find me?

  No one.

  “You know what?” I said when he simply stood and stared. “I’ll go. You stay.” I marched to the door, wrapped my fingers around the chair Maximus had jammed under the latch, and tugged. It didn’t budge. Of course not. That would mean something would have to go my way, and right now I couldn’t help but feel the entire world was against me.

  “If you go out there by yourself with those scars on your hand you might as well douse yourself in blood and run through the streets naked.”

  I rounded on him, hands clinging to my hips, steam all but pouring out my ears. “Then what do you suggest I do!” I cried, frustration bringing my voice to a fever pitch. “I can’t stay here anymore. Not when I know my dad and my best friend are out there somewhere. You’re right. I am defenseless. I don’t know how to shoot a gun or use a knife but I have to do something!”

  He studied me intently, those stormy eyes of his holding secrets I couldn’t even begin to guess at. “You are right as well,” he said at last.

  Well those were two words I didn’t expect to hear. Ever. “I am?”

  “It’s almost been an hour. We can’t stay here all night. They’ll track us sooner or later. Your best bet is to keep moving.”

  “And your best bet?” I asked.

  He didn’t hesitate. “To stay away from you. Here, take this.”

  I stared stupidly at Maximus’ gun. He held it out to me, his palm flat. “I just told you, I don’t know how—”

  “Here,” he interrupted, “you hold it like this.” Demonstrating, he stepped away from the desk, wrapped both hands around the grip, and pointed the long, sleek muzzle straight at the wall. “It’s already loaded. The only thing you have to do is click off the safety, point, and shoot.”

  “Oh, is that all?” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

  He lowered the gun. “That’s all. You have ten bullets. Aim right between the eyes or dead center of the chest. Anywhere else will wound, but it won’t kill. If you’re not sure if the Drinker is dead keep shooting until you are.”

  He held the gun out again, and this time I took it. “It’s heavy,” I said, surprised and a little unsettled by the weight and feel of cold steel against my skin. “How do I carry it?”

  “Here’s the holster. Clip it to the side of your jeans instead of the back. It will be easier to grab if you need it.”

  The holster was a small, black circle of canvas with a metal clip on one side. The muzzle of the gun fit into the middle of the circle and I attached it to my right side. “Point and shoot,” I murmured. I stepped to the side so Maximus could move the chair from the door, and then there was nothing between me and the outside except my own fear.

  “Move quickly,” Maximus said, as though he could read my mind. “You don’t have far to travel, which is good. Get inside your apartment and barricade yourself until dawn. At first light you can try to find your friend, but not before. It’s too dangerous. Get a reliable car. Steal one if you have to. Make sure it’s filled with gas and head north, towards the Poconos. You need to be gone by noon, do you understand?”

  “But what if Travis—”

  “Noon, Lola. No later. You need time to get as far away from here as you can, with or without your friend.”

  I should have asked why.

  Why noon?

  Why do we have to leave Revere?

  Why are you helping me?

  But of course I didn’t. You can add it to the list if you want: Stupid Mistakes – 4 (and counting), Lola – 0.

  “I take it you’re not coming with me.” I meant to sound glib, as though I didn’t care one way or the other, but my voice fell miserably flat.

  His gaze pinned to the door, Maximus said, “I would if I could. I would,” he insisted when I made a scoffing sound of disbelief. “But there are… things I need to do, and you’ll be safer without me. I’ll find you tomorrow before you go if… I’ll find you,” he finished lamely, but the words he didn’t say lingered all the same.

  I’ll find you tomorrow… if you’re still alive.

  I thought I felt the brush of his fingertips through my hair, but when I glanced to the side his arms were crossed rigidly over his chest.

  “This is all absolutely nuts, you know that right?”

  “I know,” he agreed.<
br />
  “If I wake up in a straight jacket tomorrow I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched and he finally dragged his eyes away from the door to look at me, his gaze as heavy as it was unreadable. “I am glad I met you, Lola.”

  “I, uh, yeah.” Suddenly, inexplicably flustered I turned my head sharply to the side when I felt my cheeks begin to burn. “I mean I’m glad I met you too but only because, you know, you gave me a gun and… stuff.”

  “Be careful,” he said solemnly.

  I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. Not when my vocal chords were tightening just thinking about repeating what he’d said to me. It was stupid to worry about a boy I barely knew, but I was worried. I was worried for him and I was worried for me and I was worried for my dad and I was worried for Travis. I was drowning in worry so thick it was hard to breath.

  As though he could sense my sudden hesitation Maximus reached past me and opened the door. “I’ll lead them away from here. Count to sixty, and then go. Do not stop, for any reason, no matter what you see or hear. Do you understand?”

  My head bobbed as though I were a puppet on a string. Do not stop. Shoot anything with fangs. Yes, I understood.

  Maximus turned off the light before he stepped out into the night. I tried to follow him with my eyes, but the inky darkness swallowed him up completely, leaving nothing behind but steel and shadow.

  Heart racing and palms sweating, I began to count.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Beer

  Nothing tried to kill me on the way to the apartment complex, which I took to be a good sign. Unfortunately, my luck ran out at the front entrance when I found the manager, Mr. Jacobson. He was a cool guy. Told dirty jokes. Never gave my dad shit when our rent was late (which it always was).

  Now was slumped against the door, his arms and legs splayed out to the side. The glass above his head was streaked with blood the color of rust. He might have been sleeping, if he slept with his eyes wide open and his mouth gaping in terror.

 

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