Awakening (Fire & Ice Book 1)

by Karen Payton

  “The vampires know the location of the eco-town, so they will be moving fast. They will follow the scent, and Julian and I will be ready for them.”

  “What do you need us to do?” Harry asked.

  “I need you to stay here in the dining cavern.”

  “But-” Harry’s words died in his throat when Connor moved.

  Crossing to the rear of the cavern, Connor clawed away a section of the rock-encrusted wall and broke through the final foot of hard earth to reveal the hidden passageway. The six foot tall opening of the tunnel ascended into darkness. Every foot or so, wooden struts supported the chute carved through the packed soil.

  Amused at the gawping human expressions, Connor said simply, “It brings you out near the woods. Julian will have unblocked the other end by now.” He indicated the bench seats nearest the tunnel mouth. “Stay together as a group, here.” Connor passed a glance over each nervous face. “At my signal, you will go into the exit tunnel, and run as fast as you can.”

  “What’s the signal?” Oscar recovered first, and his expression was serious for once.

  Connor raised a brow, “I was thinking, I shout ‘RUN’.”

  Oscar’s lips twitched. “Works for me,” he said.

  Greg shifted from his resting place against the wall. Connor had felt his presence like an incandescent torch of energy. “And that’s it? Run?” Greg shook his head. “I’ll stay.”

  “No, Marine. For this, I’m your commanding officer. You will run, and you’ll look after your charges out in the woods. Understood?”

  Greg subsided back into his slouch, reluctant agreement filtering into his narrowed eyes. “Hooah,” he mumbled.

  Connor nodded. “We have reopened the hiding burrows in the woods. Get inside, and stay inside.” His stern look pierced Rebekah. She’d better listen this time; the hiding burrows work, but, it depends on her staying inside one. Connor was beginning to think his plan to wait three years before turning her would age him by another hundred.

  Rebekah met his gaze, and for him, the sun came out when she smiled. He crossed the cavern, pushed his fingers gently into her hair, and rested his forehead on hers. “Please, Rebekah, this one time. Do as I ask.” He tilted her chin and searched her dark eyes. The warmth lurking in their depths eased the tension inside him. Placing a gentle kiss on her lips, he said. “Thank you, honey.”

  Turning back to face the others, he said, “And that’s it.’

  That’s all they need to know anyway, he argued.

  Connor checked his watch and glanced at Rebekah. “It’s almost time.” He landed a fleeting kiss as she opened her mouth to speak, and he smiled when it wiped her thoughts from her mind. “Julian won’t let the guards sneak up on us. He is outside waiting.”

  Leaving the cavern, Connor jerked his head and Greg followed him out.

  “Julian and I have everything inside the eco-town under control, Greg.”

  “But?” Greg folded his arms across his solid chest.

  “But outside.” Connor flicked his gaze upward. “I’m relying on you and Oscar to make sure they get into the burrows.”

  Connor handed over a nail gun and Greg raised an eyebrow.

  “I know what you saw when you watched Stan die. Take this. It’s crude, but if you see one of those fuckers out in the forest, be my guest.”

  Greg grinned, “And how about these attacking vampires? Do I get a shot at them?”

  “Not a chance. Stand down soldier.” Connor sighed. “Look, ferals barely have brain function. They are beyond reason and planning. You aim for the gaping mouth or the face, and it gives you the chance to run. You try it on one of us and the story will be very different, I promise you.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Connor laid a hand on Greg’s shoulder. “I don’t think you’ll need it. The area was clean at the last sweep.”

  With a curt nod, Greg shoved the nail gun into his utility belt and went back into the dining cavern.

  Everything Connor said was true. But if giving Greg a purpose makes him sharper, then where’s the harm?

  Connor took up his position outside the dining cavern, waiting for Julian’s signal. He listened to the muted rustling sounds of humans doing their best to be silent. The waft of their scents fanned the banked embers of his thirst and his throat ached. Delaying his grave sleep was a crucial part of the plan, and as the hallucinations tugged at the threads of his sanity, the tightrope-line of control he walked became weaker.

  The brush of shoe leather on the floor of the dining cavern roused Connor from his spot. Leaning onto one shoulder, he peered inside and shook his head firmly. She froze in mid-step. As much as it cut him open to see Rebekah’s pained expression, it was for her own good.

  Returning to his vigil, Connor rested lightly against the wall and glanced at his watch. C’mon Julian, where are they?

  <><><>

  Out in the woods, Julian blended into the shadow cast by a massive oak tree. He had not blinked for twenty minutes. ‘Blink, and you’ll miss it’ is not a flippant remark right now, and I’m not about to let Connor lay that one at my door. Ears, however, were always alert, so he need not have worried. He could not have missed Serge’s guardsmen passing by. Okay, not exactly elephants, but- Some were so close it tested his power to resist the urge to reach out, grasp a head firmly, and, with a sharp twist, cut off all motor function.

  But that would reveal our hand. There were eight guardsmen, and they knew nothing of Julian’s involvement, although, Connor’s presence they would probably expect.

  Julian did not move until the pack picked up Rebekah’s scent. He held back until they were mere smudges of ink in the distance, before unleashing a burst of speed in pursuit.

  The thirst for battle was like a mouthful of dust he needed to slake with excitement. But there’s plenty of time for that. He clamped his sights onto the fleeing shadows, and as he swerved around a thick tree trunk, he narrowly avoided crashing into the broad back of a straggler. This time, he did not resist. He dispatched the vampire like a drive-by mugger, grabbing the back of his flapping coat and swinging him around. The heel of Julian’s hand crunched up under his victim’s chin. The vampire’s head rocked back and a satisfying snap resonated up the bones in Julian’s arm. The shocked face continued its roll backwards and did not return.

  Julian flexed his muscles like a victorious boxer, grinned and moved on.

  Keeping his distance this time, arriving at the tree line, Julian stopped and melted into the shadows. He watched the vampires flitting over the meadow, their paths crossing and clashing like a pack of hounds with too much information to process. C’mon, pull it together guys. The scent is pretty strong.

  At last, one of the vampires lifted his head and whipped forward like an arrow shot from a bow, heading straight for the wound sliced into the hillside. The blackened opening swallowed him, and the other six clustered like magnets being towed along in his wake.

  Game on. As the last one disappeared through the entrance, Julian darted across the grass and followed them inside. Pausing on the threshold, he reached up and closed his fingers around the keystone overhead. With a sharp tug, he yanked it out, stepping swiftly backwards into the tunnel as the rocks and earth tumbled down and sealed the exit. He turned to face the gathering darkness.

  The cloud of debris rolled and billowed, plastering his clothes to his back, before Julian accelerated forward.

  <><><>

  Even from deep inside the hillside, Connor felt a rush of air brush his cheek, although it would need to be entwined with a hundred others like it before the flame in the sconce beside him would flutter.

  He stepped into the dining cavern and yelled, “Run.”

  The word echoed around the chamber, galvanizing every human into action. Then, the distant sound of the rumbling avalanche of earth reached Connor. Julian is inside.

  The humans stampeded into the narrow opening, their clumsy shuffling adding to the cauldron of excitement. Their g
alloping hearts, terror sweats, and panic bombarded Connor’s senses, and he willed them to hurry, knowing they were drawing the focus of the vampires now moving through the eco-town. The guardsmen won’t be able to resist, even if they sensed the trap closing behind them.

  Connor herded the last human into the tunnel. In a moment of brief contact with Rebekah, he caught hold of her wrist, trailing his fingers over her palm as he released her. “Hide,” he muttered.

  He tracked the humans’ progress until they disappeared up the chute, and, when he was sure they were all out of danger, he put clawed hands up to the tunnel roof, gouged holes in it, and collapsed it in a deluge of sodden earth, tree roots, and wooden struts.

  Swinging into action, he traveled the passageways like a tornado, grinding the giant match heads of flaming torches to ash in a clenched fist or under a boot, and yanking bulkhead lamp fittings from the walls, extinguishing light sources by whatever means got the job done.

  Seconds later, back in the dining cavern, he brushed the sawdust and ash from his hands and listened to the crumbling avalanche of rubble groan quietly as it settled into place.

  Primed and ready, Connor sank into deathly stillness. He zeroed in on the whispering preternatural movements of the hunting guardsmen searching the network of caverns. The collapsed tunnels would not contain them; they were a diversion from the real threat. Connor.

  Every step had been orchestrated to bring them to him; a formidable vampire with a century of raw power and cunning, descending into grave sleep. That was his last conscious thought before the gate keeper slept. Connor visualized the cell door of the asylum opening, and allowed his brainstem, the part that controls the reflexes in the body – whether human or vampire – to take over.

  He unleashed the killer, and a white-hot blast furnace of insatiable bloodlust raged through his tissue.

  Hunger boiled like a torrent of acid inside his gut and tingled along his lips. His tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth as aching thirst shriveled his windpipe and insane craving ate into his brain. It was not a desire for water, rather, a raw chili-burn thirst that demanded a river of thick sweet blood.

  Connor froze, savoring the eddies of air whisking over his skin. The first pair of the guardsmen moving into range. His nostrils flared as he closed in on their moisture. Each vampire had a different flavor, and just the smell of their blood-drenched tissue filled his mouth with saliva. Their clustered heat signatures glowed like infrared hot spots, where their last meals had yet to chill to black inside their bellies.

  Venom trickled unheeded down his chin. The cramped muscles of his face compressed his skull, baring his teeth. Snarls vibrated in his throat.

  They did not sense him until it was too late. His hunger echoed in the darkness; a brittle snap of tendons was drowned out by the crunch of bone giving way under the relentless pressure of his jaws. Ecstasy spiked through him as blood-sluiced marrow filled his mouth and coated his vocal chords with thick coagulated nectar.

  Wiping his hand down his face, he moved on. Connor struck the next victim in the chest, cracking his sternum, twisting the head as if undoing a bottle top and the vampire slid down the wall. The explosive crack of ruptured cartilage ricocheted a warning shot through the cavern.

  Panic filled the air. The rainbow of scents shot darts of color into Connor’s sensitized retina, and made hunting easy; he saw them all so clearly. He visualized a move, the snap of a ligament, a cold heart clenched in his fist, a thumb buried in the carotid pulse, and without effort, it happened. Depraved enjoyment peaked as he thrust his hand inside the abdominal cavity of a hapless opponent and delighted in gripping the spinal cord, feeling the discs between the vertebrae swell in his palm like compressed balloons, before they finally popped.

  He was no longer hungry, he was having fun.

  With each meal, his heart swelled, the pressure in his chest pushed against his ribcage, and his appetite sharpened to addiction, compelling him to find another kill.

  A buzz of anticipation whipped him around to face yet another vampire. A familiar smell stung his nose and an alarm bell rang deep inside his brain, but it was diluted by the blood-soaked clouds of vapor staining his mind red. But, it was familiar. Even while trying to press the lid back on to Pandora’s Box, and to think, he moved in for the kill.

  “Sorry, Connor.” Julian launched a huge rock at full pelt, hitting Connor square in the chest.

  The jolt stopped Connor in his tracks, and, when Julian added a driving punch to the force of it, Connor fell backwards.

  Connor’s mind cleared as he wrestled the psychopath back into his cell, slammed the door shut, and found himself lying on the ground with Julian’s boot clamped down onto his neck.

  “Nice,” Connor croaked.

  “What can I say? I wasn’t taking any chances.” Julian grinned. “But Hell, you’re terrifyingly good. Six kills in twenty-eight seconds.”

  “Only six?” Connor croaked again, irritated.

  Julian shrugged as he removed his boot. Or lose the leg, if Connor’s searing look was anything to go by. “I stopped one outside, and the other went to run.” He laughed. “Call it teamwork?”

  Connor rolled up smoothly until he was sitting. Rubbing his fingertips in hard circles over his chest, he said, “I think you broke my sternum. Couldn’t you find a bigger rock?”

  “Hey, I came prepared. Rock has no heat signature. I knew you’d not see it coming.”

  Connor sprang to his feet. The explosion of movement was a blur, even to Julian. His eyes glittered in the gloom, and Julian fell back a pace, only relaxing when Connor chuckled, “Got you.”

  Julian chuckled in his turn. “As I said, I wasn’t taking any chances.” But he kept the bloodstained disheveled Connor firmly in his sights.

  Chapter 37

  When Connor collapsed the tunnel behind them, the avalanche filled the air inside the chute with clouds of dirt. The heavier grains landed in clumps over Rebekah’s clothes, but the finer ones tasted like mud pie in her dry mouth. If the stuffy air in the tunnel made breathing difficult, then hyperventilating with anxiety made it almost impossible.

  As dirt showered her face, the sounds of a snarling dog fight raging behind the bank of settled earth almost paralyzed her.

  In her imagination, Connor was fighting a pack of crazed vampires and they were large bats with needles for teeth. Ridiculous, I know. But, fear does that, takes commonsense, twists it inside out, and then sets it free to stumble about inside her head.

  The weight of the switchblade resting along her forearm inside the sleeve of her coat taunted her with its absurdity. Digging a hand into her pocket and rubbing her fingers over Oscar’s lucky stone seemed a far more potent force. Praying and good luck, that’s all we’ve got. Her dust-clogged throat ached with the realization.

  Thomas’ hacking cough focused her attention. He croaked her name, and Rebekah turned away from her nightmare. Touching his elbow, she said, “Let’s go.”

  As Thomas moved along in front of her, the gray light at the end of the tunnel encouraged her to pick up the pace. “Keep moving, Rebekah,” she muttered, and pushed on up the slope of compressed mud.

  Breaking out into the cool night air, Rebekah scanned her surroundings. Her eyes latched on to Thomas and then Leizle, and she almost laughed aloud at their grimy faces. Oscar beckoned urgently. The others were already scuttling into the depths of the woods. Hide; I promised Connor I would be good.

  Greg crouched in the soft ground in front of a thick tree trunk, waving everyone past. A hiss of human pain came from inside the woods, and Greg’s head snapped around. He flashed a thumbs-up signal to Oscar before he dived out of sight, the oil black shadows swallowing him whole.

  Gripping Thomas’ hand, Rebekah set off in a half crouch, covering the ground quickly. The damp still air beneath the whispering canopy of leaves was eerie, and the chilled darkness settled like a suffocating blanket. She stretched her eyes wide, trying to distinguish Oscar’s bulk from oth
er shadows flitting through the trees. Flashes of pale gray winked – anxious faces glancing back over retreating shoulders – and Rebekah headed towards them.

  She smiled in relief when a sound like a sandbag being tossed onto the ground was followed by a quickly smothered oath in Oscar’s colorful tone. Imagining him sprawled out on his hands and knees made her smile.

  At least I know which direction to go in now. Oscar foraged daily in the woods so he knew instinctively where the burrows were. Follow Greg or Oscar. The instruction had been drilled into all of them.

  Releasing Thomas and letting him race ahead, Rebekah paused, gazing quickly back at the tree line when she thought she heard footfalls behind her. Could it be Connor? Already? Her neck prickled, and she dismissed the elusive feeling of being watched. Did Connor’s plan work?

  Pulling the collar of her waxed fabric jacket tighter, she swung back to follow Thomas. A sudden breeze snatched at her hair. It whipped up to a stinging gale that plastered her clothes to her body, and Rebekah knew instantly. A vampire is coming.

  Pushing hair out of her eyes, she searched for Thomas and felt relieved he had disappeared. What if it’s a feral? Without thinking, she took off in the opposite direction. Running hard, she backtracked to the tree line, putting distance between herself and the others, knowing that they would still be scurrying into the hiding burrows. They need more time. Dodging the potholes, Rebekah put everything she had into outracing the torrent of wind snatching at her heels.

  The unexpected explosion of movement made her cold muscles ache. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the voice in her head screaming, ‘what the hell am I doing?’

  She drove on blindly until her lungs were on fire. Her scalp burned too when she was yanked backward by the hair. A sick feeling of weightlessness filled her stomach as her feet swung out from under her. She yelped when her shoulder blades crunched into the rock face of padded stone suddenly standing behind her. The sound of saliva rattling in his throat turned her stomach. Fuck, a feral.