by Lucinda Dark
I turned my head to Maverick, sniffing delicately. He stared at me, frozen. “You look…” His words seemed to escape him.
“Beautiful,” Torin finished for him.
I tilted my head back to him. My lips parted. My nostrils flared. A churning desire different than anything I’d ever experienced before. Maverick stepped up next to Torin and between them, my craving grew. My skin shivered from their nearness.
Oh Barbie… Even Satrina’s voice returned, though she sounded different. Shaken. Almost … afraid. I remembered her saying that before, combined with an apology. I didn’t understand why she’d be sorry then and I didn’t understand her hesitancy to speak to me now.
“How do you feel, Barbie?” Torin’s question dragged my attention back to him.
My mouth was coated in saliva. Something dark curdled in my stomach as my gaze lasered down to a pinpoint of light as the rest of the world dimmed into darkness. I swallowed desperately.
“Barbie?” Maverick stepped forward only to be stopped by an outstretched hand. Torin’s. I focused on the pulse point in his neck.
I touched the roof of my mouth with my tongue and slid it forward until I licked down the length of one fang. A glowing red haze descended as I narrowed my eyes on the delicious, repetitive thumping in his throat.
I only had one answer, and I was so lost to it in that moment, that I didn’t even have the ability to realize how truly terrified I should’ve been. I gave only one answer, one warning—shoving the singular word out through too large teeth that didn’t belong in my mouth as I tensed, preparing to attack.
How did I feel?
There was only one thing I felt.
“Hungry,” I whispered. Then, I attacked.
Ashes to Ashes
By the sweat of your face
You will eat bread,
Till you return to the ground,
Because from it you were taken;
For you are dust,
And to dust you shall return
Genesis 3:19
Prologue
Maverick
“You good?” I jerked as Torin’s voice tore through the darkness, the first bit of sound in several long minutes.
“What? Yeah. I’m fine.” I scratched the back of my neck as I stared up at the crumbling Mausoleum where we’d left Barbie’s unconscious body two weeks ago. We’d been coming back every night since. And every night since, I hadn’t slept more than a few hours at a time. I was exhausted. Running on fumes. We both were. “You think she’s awake?” I asked.
“She should be,” Torin said cryptically.
I thought that two weeks of just him and I would give me some insight on this whole vampire transition business, but I knew about as much as I did before we decided to turn her. Which was to say, I still knew absolutely nothing. He was as tight lipped as ever. I glared his way, but he didn’t appear to notice. Torin’s eyes were focused solely on the double doors leading into the interior of the building. It was a wonder that we even found it, but Rome wasn’t as unfamiliar to him as it was to me. As soon as Barbie’s transition had started, he’d known exactly where to go.
We were miles from the center of Rome now. A small graveyard in a shabby neighborhood that boasted nothing but poorly kept apartment buildings and drug stores that looked like they saw more robberies than actual customers.
“Let’s go.” Torin headed towards the double doors, reaching up and tearing away the chain and padlock we’d put on it.
“Shit!” I jumped out of the way as he tossed the heavy mass of metal over his shoulder, nearly nailing me in my own fucking shoulder. “Watch it,” I cursed. “What if she’s not awake? We might need that when we leave.”
“We won’t,” he said, sniffing the air. “She’s awake.”
We stepped into the dark entrance and I paused, staring across the narrow space to the tomb at its center. The lid was made of pure concrete; the image of a fallen woman draped in fabric was chiseled into the top of it. I stepped up next to the stone monument and swept my hand down the face of it, clearing away cobwebs.
“Grab that side,” I said, reaching for the corner as Torin did the same on the opposite side. He pushed as I pulled and together, we managed to move the top of the lid until it slid to the side completely and there was nothing left but a naturally wooden coffin inside the stone tomb. I didn’t ask where he’d gotten such a thing, or why we needed it. Just staring at it now made my skin crawl. Imagining that Barbie had been locked inside for fourteen fucking days … suffice it to say, it was probably a large part of why I hadn’t been sleeping lately.
The lid creaked as Torin reached for it and pulled the bottom part of the coffin open. My mouth dropped. The inside was ruined. The velvet interior shredded. There were holes punched in the sides, long claw marks marring the wood. I felt sick to my fucking stomach. I took a step back and swallowed against the acidic taste in my mouth.
But Barbie … she looked unchanged. At least, she did until her eyes opened. Blonde lashes lifted and my breath caught in my chest as a pair of wickedly blue eyes settled on the space in front of her. It was as if she were there and she wasn’t because this creature was something new. She was alive—somewhat—but there was an odd eeriness to her movements. Her eyes tracked nothing but darted around. Her fingers curled around the edges of the ruined coffin as she leveraged herself up. It was then that I realized she resembled Torin now, in a way. Her skin was different—clearer. There was no hint of human flaw. It was her and yet, it wasn’t.
“When going through the transition, new vampires tend to destroy their surroundings,” Torin said as he reached forward to help her out. I jumped into action as well, reaching for her at the same time. Her eyes flashed red for a brief second and I dropped her hand.
“Jesus fucking Christ…” Was this really the same girl? What the fuck had we done? What had I let him do to her? The red glow settled in her eyes and stayed, burning at a low volume as if she were a flame about to go out.
“Barbie?” Torin frowned.
She blinked, lifting soft white fingers to her mouth as she parted her lips. My eyes widened when two sharp fangs descended from her gums. Torin took a step towards her, blocking me out as he shifted to cover her front. He said something in a low voice and I was too distracted by her movements to focus on his words.
Barbie had been graceful before. Strong and sure in her actions. But this was different. She was different. Now, she moved as if she were floating. As if each and every step and twitch of her fingers was thoughtlessly balletic. Reckless beauty. Her head turned and she looked over Torin’s shoulder straight at me.
My mouth was dry, but I licked my lips, preparing to speak. “You look…” My words trailed off again. I couldn’t say it, I couldn’t seem to string more than two fucking words together. What the fuck was wrong with me?
“Beautiful,” Torin said. I cut him a dark glare, but it wasn’t like I could refute the point. She was. Impossibly Exquisitely. Unnaturally. He stepped back, leaving room between the two of us. “How do you feel?” he asked.
She tilted her head as if the question confused her. I sucked in a breath and moved closer. “Barbie?” I reached out, stopping short when her eyes turned my way, the redness flaring and glowing bright.
Torin hissed between his teeth as her lips parted and she spoke for the first time. “Hungry,” she said.
Golden hair flashed in front of me a split second before Torin’s hand gripped my shoulder and ripped me back as Barbie’s violent red eyes zeroed in on my throat. I stumbled and hit the wall, jarring a row of old cylindrical containers. On the end, one tipped over the edge of the shelf and crashed down, shattering in a rain of spider webs and dust on the stone ground.
Torin grunted as the full weight of Barbie's form slammed into him and shoved him back against the wall. More jars fell from their perches, breaking open at our feet. My eyes widened as Torin palmed the back of her head, grimacing as she sank long, white fangs into the side of h
is neck.
"Shit," I hissed, reaching for her.
"No, don't," he said, lifting his only free hand to stop me. "She needs it."
"But your blood won't do anything for her, will it?"
"I'm half-human," he said, wincing as she shook her head slightly, tearing the wound in his throat as she worked to suck down more of his blood. "It'll tide her over for now."
Silence descended as I watched Barbie feed from Torin's neck, and I couldn't help but feel a kernel of envy. His fingers slid through the strands of her golden hair, cupping the back of her skull as she fed, and for a brief moment, I imagined that it was me. That it was my throat she ravaged—after all, I had been the one she was aiming for. It didn't scare me.
After several long minutes—and several long pulls from his throat—Torin gently eased her away. Barbie's eyes opened, glowing crimson for a moment longer. Looking at her brought all that we’d done to life. This wasn’t Barbie. The red eyes, the slithering reptilian movements of her limbs as she uncurled herself from Torin’s body—it was something else entirely. Her eyes slowly faded back to blue and she became the Barbie I knew once more. She licked her lips as her fangs ascended back into her gums.
"Barbie?" This time, when I reached for her, Torin let her go. Barbie sagged into my arms, blinking as her gaze clouded over with confusion. I swung her up into my arms.
"Maverick?" She licked her lips again, shaky fingers touching them and coming away wet with blood. "What ... what did I just do?"
"You were hungry," Torin answered as he put a hand over the wound on his throat. Had he been human, I might have been a little worried. He was paler than before and when he moved to take a step towards the exit, he reached out and rested a hand on the wall to keep his balance.
"You good?" I asked, repeating the same words he’d asked me earlier.
He nodded sharply. "Fine. I've got bagged blood back at the motel."
I pressed my lips together to keep my doubts to myself. Two weeks had passed since the incident that had left Barbie like this and we'd moved to a less reputable—less secure—motel instead of the hotel we'd been staying in with the school chaperones. It was a way to stay off the grid in case Torin's father came back. It certainly didn't mean his blood would be where he left it. I had a sneaking suspicion that had we left anything of major value, the rat-faced owner of the motel we were crashing in would've snuck in to steal it. It was a wonder he hadn't discovered the blood bags before now.
"I-I just—" Barbie's trembling voice drew my attention. I looked down as she gaped at Torin. "Drank ... blood—fuck. Oh fuck. No."
"Barbie—" I started.
"Put me the fuck down, Maverick," she growled, her fangs sliding back out as a soft red glow overtook her eyes once more. "I'm going to kill him."
"I'm not doing that," I said. "We have to get the fuck out of here. Sooner rather than later."
"Maverick." My name was a warning on her lips as she began to struggle. I squeezed her tighter to my chest.
"If you try to get out of my arms now, Barbie, you'll fucking hurt me. Is that what you want? Do you want to fucking hurt me?"
Her tension didn't ease, but she finally stopped struggling. Her arms came up and circled my shoulders. She and I both knew she could walk just fine on her own, but I couldn't say I didn't like the feeling of holding her. Yes, I held her now to keep her from going after Torin, who—after giving her so much blood—was looking rather shaky on his own feet, but that didn't diminish the pleasure I derived from it.
"Let's go." The man in question grunted as he moved towards the exit. "The car's waiting."
I sighed and followed the stubborn bastard, keeping Barbie in my arms the entire way. I knew that sooner or later she'd demand to be put down again. For now, though, I relished the feeling of having her back in my arms. Alive.
Chapter 1
Barbie
Hatred. Anger. Fear. Those specific emotions coursed through my veins. Hatred over what had been forced on me. Anger at those who had done the forcing. And fear because of what I’d become. I stared down at the shower drain as water ran through my hair, slicking the strands against my cheeks. Beneath my skin, something new moved. Another creature in my own shape, twisted inside my body like I had a second being trying to rip its way out. I stared at my flesh, but the movement must have only been in my mind because there were no physical differences that confirmed that what I was feeling was real.
What did this mean? What was I now? What would happen? Would I be able to control it? The first thing I wanted to do when I’d woken up after I’d fed the hunger of this new monster inside me was slug Torin in the face and take off, but I knew what was happening to me couldn’t be controlled on my own. I’d seen centuries-old vampires lose control when blood was involved. I was a brand new kind of being.
Before, I had been on the verge of a change. Demon-possessed and sucking in the demonic power Satrina supplied me with. Satrina? I called out for her as my hands settled on the chipped tile wall in front of me.
I didn’t need to ask the question spiraling in my mind, she already heard it. I’m sorry, Barbie. I don’t know what this means, she answered. You’re a different creature now. You’re still demon-possessed—obviously, or I wouldn’t be here, but there is a new part of you. The vampire. And if you’re not careful, she could take control. You were right to stay with Torin.
That wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear, but as I blew out a breath, I knew it couldn’t be denied. It was what I had believed anyway. It changed nothing.
So much of life occurred in the face of death. Like one major ‘fuck you’ to the creature for whom we all seemed to fear. Even vampires, supposedly immortal, had to meet their maker someday. For me, that day was supposed to be two weeks ago. And somehow, I was still here.
Actually, there was no somehow about it. I was still here for two reasons.
Maverick fucking McKnight and Torin fucking Priest.
The first, I was mad at. The second, I wanted to dangle over a fucking volcano and slowly dip him into lava one limb at a time while listening to his blood-curdling screams, with a martini in hand.
I tilted my head back and let the rainfall of the showerhead hit me face first this time. I slicked my hair back as I cleaned the dried blood out from under my nails. Dirt, grime, and blood rushed towards the drain of the porcelain tub, staining the white in a muddy red. A knock on the other side of the bathroom door sounded and ricocheted through my head. I flinched. Everything was louder now. I could even hear the old Italian man who ran the shit roach motel the guys had brought me to scream something in his native tongue at the television that was blasting away three floors below us.
“What?” I snapped.
“I’ve got a towel here for you and some new clothes,” Maverick said. “I’m setting them outside the door. Get dressed and come to the room when you’re done.”
“Fine.” I gritted my teeth and scrubbed a hand down my face. “Thanks.”
Minutes later, I shut off the showerhead and stepped out of the minuscule stall onto a wet floor bumping the tub that was positioned next to it with my thigh. I wasn’t a big girl by any means, but just to fit into the tiny square the hotel claimed as a shower, I’d had to leave the fucking door open, and now the rest of the room was nearly flooded. With a growl, I cracked the bathroom door open and reached for the towel Maverick had left. Rubbing the thing down my body in quick, precise movements, I hurried through dressing.
I paused just before leaving the bathroom, turning back to the condensation coated mirror. Hesitantly, I stepped towards it, lifting my hand and swiping it in one straight motion down the surface. My breath left my chest. My heart practically stopped. The girl that stared back at me was … well, she was me, but she wasn’t.
So much of lore said that vampires weren’t able to see themselves in mirrors, but that just wasn’t true. Not anymore anyway. Once, when people had backed mirrors in pure silver, vampires’ reflections had faded, but sin
ce then, less pure metals were used and their reflections had returned. Besides, it wasn’t like I was completely vampire. I was a dhampire or some combination of that, as well as demon-possessed—there wasn’t any damn room for anyone else in my head or my body.
Everything about my image was the same—my face shape, my eye color. And yet, at the same time, everything had been heightened. I could see the strands of color in my irises split apart at the fucking microscopic level, the different shades of blue as if they had been pulled from my eyes and laid bare before me. My skin was perfect. Too fucking perfect. I was a teenager. I should’ve had a zit or two, bad pores. Something. Anything. But all that greeted me was perfectly smooth pale flesh.
There was something different about that flesh. Something that hadn’t been there before. It didn’t have a name, but it was everything I hated. It was evil. It was bloodthirsty. It was something I had never wanted, nor asked for and yet it felt inevitable that what I was now was exactly what I’d been trying so desperately hard to destroy. Call it tragic irony or just call it what it was: Annoying.
I clenched my fist and without thinking, slammed it into the mirror. The glass surface of it cracked beneath my fist, sharp fragments raining down into the sink. The skin of my knuckles split and fresh blood welled. Hunger burned at the back of my mouth and my gums shifted. This time when I looked up, I saw red eyes instead of blue.
I know you’re angry, Satrina started. But keeping calm right now is the best course of action.
Is it? I snapped back. When she didn’t reply, I sighed and lowered my arm. What… I didn’t want to ask it, but I knew I had to. What does this mean? For me? For the contract?
Her responding sigh was heavy. Then she said the one thing I’d hoped she wouldn’t. I don’t know, Barbie.