The Shade Amulet (Koven Chronicles Book 1)

by Andrea Pearson

  Oh, crap.

  Fire vampires. I leaped onto the front porch, not caring if I landed softly. I probably should’ve been more cautious, but they were actively killing someone!

  The door was already open a crack, and I pushed it farther and stepped into the room.

  Both vamps looked up, their eyes glowing flames, not seeing me.

  “It’s her,” the man said. His black hair was slicked back into a ponytail. Unlike the vampires in Twilight, he was not attractive. His now-dark eyes were slightly cockeyed, and he had buck teeth—an awkward attribute next to his fangs. I almost felt bad for him until I remembered how evil he was.

  The woman growled. Her irises were still flaming, and she directed them to her partner. “How do you know?”

  “I’ve been trying to find her for days,” the man said. He got to his feet, pulling a knife out of his pocket and opening it. “I recognize the print of her soul.”

  It struck me as odd, a vampire with a pocket knife, but I didn’t know anything about them. For all I knew, they were weak. And what did he mean about the print of my soul? Wouldn’t that be great—the amulet could hide me from them visually, but couldn’t hide my soul’s print?

  I stepped farther into the room, hoping they didn’t have great noses, and wanting to get away from the door. Now that I was there, I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t trained as a fighter, other than a little martial arts in college while I dated a rather attractive sensei.

  “We should go report,” the woman said. “He’ll be wanting to know.”

  “Yes, yes, we should.” He sniffed the air, stepping in my direction, his eyes gazing through me.

  “Now that I’ve caught your scent, Miss Ashton, I’ll be able to follow you anywhere.”

  He stepped closer to me again, and my eyes landed on the flame in his upper chest. Would extinguishing it kill him? If he came just a bit closer, I’d be able to find out.

  The woman also got to her feet, putting her hand on the male vampire’s arm. “Let’s go, let’s go! If she knows we’re here, she can destroy us.”

  He shushed her loudly. “All right.”

  Instead of leaving, though, he walked closer, close enough for me to sense the flame in his chest, and realizing I probably wouldn’t have another chance, I reached for it mentally, commanding it to die.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The amulet warmed, and the vampire’s little fire went out.

  He shrieked, clutching at his throat, his eyes bugging out of his head.

  Abel flew through the front door just then, banging it into me, knocking me into the vampire. “Lizzie?” he said. “Lizzie! Where are you?”

  He couldn’t see me—I was still invisible.

  The vamp stumbled backwards, grabbing my arm to keep me near, then backhanded me. I landed hard against a piano, dazed. Why wasn’t he dying?

  He turned to grapple with Abel and was struggling, trying to get his teeth into the human. Abel was taller and stronger and kept him off almost easily. I looked at the female—she couldn’t see me, though her eyes roved the room, obviously trying to figure out where I’d gone.

  Reveal me, I thought.

  With a slight tingle, I became visible, and the female vampire shrieked. She dove at the woman on the floor, and I saw a brief spark on the victim’s stomach. Before I knew what was happening, before I could do anything, the woman ignited.

  “Rauel!” the female vampire screamed, grabbing the guy’s hand. The two of them jumped and spun, their clothing and bodies turning into a gray mist, which dissipated completely.

  I fell to the floor next to the woman, pushing out as hard as I could with my magic, trying to stop the fire. It was burning her, singeing her flesh. It was much more difficult to stop than the previous fire had been—probably because it was new, and the last one had almost burned out already.

  “Call nine-one-one!” I yelled at Abel.

  Abel pulled his cell phone from his pocket, and I focused all of my energy, all of my power on stopping the fire.

  “Please, help me!” I whispered to the amulet.

  It warmed, and I felt my magic strengthen. The boost didn’t last long, but it seemed to be enough because the fire died a moment later.

  I dashed to the kitchen, searching for towels, then soaked them in the sink—grateful I could still feel the water—and ran back into the living room. I was trained only marginally in first aid, but burns were something I was used to, considering my line of work. I put the towels over the burns on her chest and stomach and checked her pulse. It was very faint, but she was still alive.

  We heard sirens, and an ambulance pulled up outside, following the directions Abel had shouted into his phone.

  Paramedics rushed into the room, and while they got an IV into the woman, I wrote a text to both Cole and Detective Evans.

  New victim. Hurry.

  I included the street and what I guessed to be the house number and sent the text.

  The paramedics were packing the woman into the ambulance when Detective Evans arrived, followed closely by Cole. They looked around, checked on her, then started peppering me with questions. Before I answered, I introduced Abel to them as my partner, then he and I took turns explaining what happened.

  “What did the vampire say?” Cole asked. “Something about them needing to report something?”

  Abel nodded. “They were here checking things out,” he said. “And following Lizzie. Probably trying to get information on both her and the area.”

  “And then the . . . vampires left?” Detective Evans said, looking like he was struggling with the idea that vamps existed. “Are they gone for good?”

  “I doubt it,” I said. “And I definitely don’t think we should relax. People are going to need to know what happened. What are we going to tell the public about the deaths that have already occurred?”

  Both detectives fell quiet for a moment, then looked at each other.

  Detective Evans said, “We need to talk with our captains before we make any decisions.”

  They continued asking us questions and getting more information for a moment longer, then we all decided it was time for the night to be over. Detective Evans left, but Cole lingered, probably wanting to be alone with me. His eyes kept flicking over to Abel.

  Abel obviously didn’t get the hint, and I was too tired to encourage either of them, so I didn’t say anything.

  With Abel’s eyes on him, Cole kissed my forehead, then, promising to give me a call in the morning, got in his car and left. Abel and I turned to each other.

  “I feel rotten,” Abel said. “Let’s go home.”

  I agreed, and we started toward my house.

  We’d only gone maybe ten steps when the Shade Amulet started buzzing against my skin. I stopped, reaching up and holding it, trying to figure out what it was telling me.

  What’s going on?

  Back.

  I looked over my shoulder, half expecting to see a hound there, but the streets were empty.

  I touched Abel’s arm. “The amulet is telling us to turn around.”

  Abel frowned. He looked absolutely exhausted, and I remembered him saying he’d had a headache all day. He opened his mouth, shut it, then said, “Okay, let’s go,” obviously not wanting to miss the opportunity to find the very thing we’d been hunting.

  We retraced our steps, heading south again, and the amulet continued vibrating. It was almost as if it was excited about something.

  Following the amulet’s directions, we ended up on Center Street, where we continued walking south again. After about ten minutes, the amulet began giving me directions that totally contradicted themselves. Left. Right. Straight. Back. Was the hound doing that, or was it the amulet? It had to be the hound.

  Exasperated, I threw my hands in the air and shouted, “I know you’re out there, hound! Are you really willing to miss this chance? I’m only going to get stronger! You’re here now! Come face me like a man!”

  Abel gave
me a look that showed he thought I’d lost my mind, but didn’t say anything.

  I’d stopped near the train tracks on Center and looked around, grateful to see that there weren’t very many houses nearby, so I probably hadn’t woken anyone up with my yelling.

  Abel was still staring at me, but now, his expression looked confused and a little pained. “So, are you and the detective a thing? Because he’s obviously head over heels for you.”

  “I don’t know. We’ve only been on one date.”

  Abel started walking quickly, still heading south, and I practically had to skip to keep up.

  “How do you feel about him?” Abel asked.

  “Again, I don’t know. We’ve only been on one date.” Maybe the repetition would help the message sink in.

  “Well, I know how I feel about him.”

  Great.

  He put a hand to his head and grimaced. “This headache is killing me.”

  “Okay. Well, let’s go ho—”

  Continue.

  “The amulet’s telling us to keep going.” I looked at Abel. “But we need to get you home. And should we trust what it’s saying? Is it purposely leading us into a trap?”

  Abel shook his head. “No, no trap. We’re going. We can’t miss this opportunity.”

  The feeling that we were being watched passed over me, solidifying my suspicions that the hound was there and was hunting or trying to confuse us. I guessed the confusion part was most accurate. If it wanted to get at us, it could have attacked already. Maybe it needed to separate us first? Not a chance of that happening.

  We reached 700 South, and Abel paused, hand to his head again.

  I touched his shoulder. “You’re worrying me. We need to get some pain meds in you. How about we do that and hunt again tomorrow?”

  He took several deep breaths before responding. “What is the amulet telling you now?”

  “The same thing it has this whole time—almost gibberish. It’s confused. Not sure where it wants me to go now.”

  He looked at the residences that surrounded us and said, “Is there anywhere we can get some food? I think I’m having a sugar low or something.”

  I frowned, thinking through the options. “Well, the closest thing is a gas station down on Pioneer Crossing and 500. I don’t know if they’re open twenty-four hours, but we could check.”

  Abel nodded. “Let’s go, then.”

  I bit my lip. The gas station was at least a mile away. Would he make it that far?

  He either put on a burst of energy or he was very good at pretending he didn’t need help anymore because he picked up his pace and I had to force my exhausted legs to keep up. I hadn’t recovered from the day before, and this wasn’t helping.

  We reached Pioneer Crossing and hung right, heading for the gas station. The lights were on—I could see them up ahead—but I still didn’t know if the place was open or not.

  The amulet stopped communicating with me. Had we lost the trail? Or maybe it had given up. We’d stopped following its instructions

  Another option to consider . . . maybe the hound had run off after I taunted it. If that was the case, the stupid mutt was a coward. Then I remembered Alexander saying something about how hounds, as I grew stronger, would eventually leave me alone. Maybe this one wasn’t as strong and was off killing someone else right then.

  My heart ached thinking about that, and I so hoped it wasn’t the case. Another thing—why had this one given up after following me around for so long? It obviously wanted to kill me. It finally had the opportunity now. I was weak, untrained, and Abel wasn’t feeling well.

  We stepped across the grass, approaching the gas station. The pumps were open, but the parking lot was completely empty and the inside was dark. It occurred to me then that I could have Googled the hours. I was too tired to think straight.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s closed.”

  Able didn’t respond. He also didn’t stop walking. In fact, he headed toward it faster.

  I struggled to keep up. “Hey, I said it’s closed.” The expression on his face made me hesitate, though. He was gaunt, pale, and looked very sick. It occurred to me that he didn’t intend to “buy” something. I put my hand on his arm. “Abel, look at me.”

  He stopped halfway between the car wash and the first row of gas pumps, finally directing that gaze to me. I flinched, trying to control the urge to slap him out of it or run.

  Abel didn’t say anything, but just stared, opening and closing his mouth. He was trying to say something.

  “What is it? Abel, what are you trying to tell me?”

  His eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped to the ground.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I dropped to my knees next to him, checking for a pulse. It was racing wildly. He was boiling up—his forehead much hotter than any other forehead I’d ever checked. Why hadn’t he told me he was actually sick? Or . . . was he Restarting? I paused. That was it.

  I wrung my hands, looking around. What could I do to get his fever down? My eyes landed on the paper towels and window-washing fluid at the gas pump. I jumped to my feet and dashed that way, pulling out all of the towels, then dousing them in the cool cleaning fluid. Racing back to him, I knelt next to him again, covering every inch of exposed skin with the soppy paper towels, taking care not to get any of the stuff in his eyes, mouth, or nose.

  I hesitated, then undid his button-up shirt, revealing the most perfect set of pecs and abs I’d ever seen. Holy smokes, this guy was hot.

  Rather than admiring the view, I covered that part of him too. Once done, I checked his forehead. His fever was rising! Was this why the last Arete in his situation had died? His brain had fried?

  What more could I do? What was it that caused fevers in the first place? I had no idea, but this wasn’t a natural fever—it was a magic-induced one. The pulses that surrounded Abel were increasing in frequency and urgency. I didn’t have much time before they were released—I needed to get his temperature lower, and as quickly as possible.

  Closing my eyes, I scanned him mentally, searching for anything magical that might be making him warmer. Why couldn’t I have mastered the other elements? Pulling water to us right then would have been a very convenient thing.

  Hoping it would work, I gathered my magic and requested that it stop whatever it was that caused Abel’s fever. I kept a hand on his forehead, trying to gauge if what I was doing was helping.

  Maybe it worked because his temperature dropped suddenly, to an alarming degree, and he began shaking.

  “Whoa, buddy, too much!”

  I yanked the towels from him, pulling his shirt over his chest again, now trying to warm him. He didn’t stay cold for long, but the trembling didn’t stop. Was he having a seizure? I had no idea—I’d never been around someone who was having one. Not sure what else to do, I cradled his head in my lap, my eyes darting around the parking lot, looking for someone who could help. Could I get to my phone without dropping his head?

  Cars passed on Pioneer Crossing, but no one noticed me there, and I was too concerned with keeping Abel from smacking his head against the pavement to try very hard to get their attention.

  I hadn’t forgotten the hound, but I couldn’t concentrate on it right then.

  A strong wind gusted by, whipping a lot of my hair out of my messy bun, and I looked up. Heavy clouds were rolling in. Looked like we were about to have a storm.

  “Great,” I muttered. Just what we needed.

  I patted Abel’s cheek. “Come on, Abel, come back. We need to get you home.” Where his home was, I had no idea.

  The winds increased in strength. I looked up, biting my lip, hoping he’d wake up soon. The gusts grew until the streetlights at the corner were waving madly. Cars waiting for the light to turn green shifted several feet. The wind whipped around me, almost lifting me from the ground.

  I felt a magical pulse—stronger than anything I’d ever sensed before—blast through the area. Magic ga
thered, pulsating, swirling. It got to the point where I couldn’t tell what was wind and what was magic.

  The power grew to where I had to gasp to breathe. It pounded against me so hard, I was worried it would stop my heart. Then it all slammed into Abel. His whole body straightened, his back arching, lifting off the ground so that only his feet touched the asphalt. His head pressed painfully into my legs, and I gritted my teeth, refusing to let him hit the ground.

  He screamed, eyes shut. Was he still unconscious? The wind continued growing, the roof of the gas station ripping off.

  And then it died down.

  Relieved, I looked up. We were in the eye of a huge tornado. I could even see the stars above. Nothing else was visible, other than the debris that swirled and swirled around us. I wailed in distress.

  The eye shifted enough to put us near the path of the things flying through the air, and I bent over Abel to protect him from getting hit.

  And then, suddenly, the wind stopped. The objects were flung everywhere, falling to the ground. Bits of debris pelted us, and I grimaced, squeezing my eyes shut, unable to do anything. I couldn’t leave Abel there, not while he was so vulnerable, and I wasn’t strong enough to pull him anywhere.

  Cars, branches, and trees landed all around us. A huge rock hit Abel’s leg, and I heard a sickening crunch.

  And then, a raindrop landed on my cheek. And another and another. I glanced up. There weren’t any clouds in the sky. Where was the rain coming from?

  The ground to the south of the gas station vibrated and opened, and massive amounts of water bubbled up out of it. The rain grew in strength, pelting us, stinging my skin.

  Abel was a Silver. He could control all the elements now. What else was going to happen?

  The rain stopped, and the ground underneath us started shaking. The asphalt quickly became crisscrossed with crevices. Gasoline sprayed as the underground tanks broke, drenching both of us. I gagged on the fumes, hunching over Abel’s face, trying to protect him from the sprays.

  The gasoline drained away, following the path the water had created, but still, the earth did not stop shaking. I clung to Abel, hoping his magic somehow knew to protect him from the havoc it was wreaking. I knew that was a foolish hope—if the fever hadn’t killed the last Silver, all of this definitely would have.