Blaise paused, wondering if he was laying it on too thick and then added a little more. “With this warrior under your command, you might become the most powerful overlord of all.”
Goddard snapped his orders. “Go to the Lesser Ones, those vampires, now. Use force if you have to, but remind them that I am their Master. And get the boy. It is time to start my reign as overlord of the world.”
Goddard slammed his fist into the table next to him and repeated with a roar. “It is time!”
Blaise flew from the cave with a strong sense of satisfaction. Not only had he escaped punishment, he was charged with showing the Lesser Ones who was in control.
He headed for Florence through the tunnels, letting malicious laughter flow out of him as he considered the various ways he would teach the contemptible vampires to fear him.
Chapter Forty-Two
Little Plaything
The darkness throbs with renewed energy while I enter the office reluctantly. The furniture with its dark red color reminds me of blood, and it doesn’t help that the carpet on the floor is white.
The man behind the desk stands and crosses his arms across his chest. He’s tall and lean with black eyes and hair. Something about him terrifies me. He’s a predator waiting to pounce. I assume he’s their leader from the way the other vampires defer to him.
Liam is standing by the windows. He turns as we come in and snarls like a wild animal. The man behind the desk holds up a hand to Liam ordering him to stop.
Catherine drops onto the couch while I move slightly ahead of Megan. Rob surges past us and stands at my right, but in between me and their leader.
The man takes a deep sniff. “So, this is the one.” His voice is rich in triumph.
“Maybe, Henry,” Liam sneers.
Henry smells the air again. “I can smell him from here. One of the prophecies predicts that his blood will be rare, like water in a desert. Tell me, boy, do the hospitals have to scramble to find you a blood match?”
“I…” I don’t want to answer his question, but I feel compelled to. “It’s impossible to find a blood match. I normally donate my own in case I need it.”
Why did I say that?
“I say we keep him like he is,” Liam explodes from the window and stalks to the desk. “Blood like that shouldn’t be wasted.”
“Oh, I’m sure we can all have a little taste.” Henry restrains Liam with a hand. “But don’t forget to keep your sights on our much higher goal, my friend.”
“What are you talking about?” Megan demands. “Prophecies? Blood matches? What is going on?”
“And who is this? His little girlfriend?” Henry asks Catherine, who shrugs.
“No way!” Megan and I exclaim at the same time. I continue. “We’re friends.”
Saying that we are friends is a stretch, but it works for now.
Liam saunters over to Megan, ignoring Rob and me. He circles her and lifts her dark hair to smell. Then he moves in front of her and strokes her cheek with the back of his hand. She trembles visibly but doesn’t move.
“If we’re going to waste his blood, at least let me have this one,” he says.
“You keep your hands off her,” Rob snaps. He shoves Liam back with a blow to his chest. Liam doesn’t resist but allows himself to be pushed away. Rob remains between Megan and Liam, poised for an attack.
“Oh, I see how it is,” Liam mocks. “You already pegged her for yourself.”
Megan jerks her stare from Liam to Rob, obviously frightened of both of them now.
“What do you want with us?” I demand. The darkness surges with new power as I watch Liam examine Megan, my anger feeding it life.
Henry returns his attention to me. “With the girl, nothing. You brought her into this, so her blood will be on your hands. But, with you, I want to give you a precious gift.”
As much as I want to get out of here, the chance to be great stops me. The darkness in me is a mere whisper now. I wait to hear more. I can’t resist a glance at Catherine. She regards me without any of the warmth she showed earlier.
“Power, prestige, and all the wealth you could want,” Henry continues as he notes our exchange. “All you have to do is say yes and take your place with us.”
“She lives?” I nod to Megan.
“Of course.” Henry waves a hand as a dismissal.
Liam snarls in anger and stares at Megan.
“Don’t promise anything,” Megan orders me. “You can’t trust them!”
No one says anything, but everyone is watching me. I shift on my feet. I can become someone different. Someone better. Someone who doesn’t have to be tormented by horrors that I can’t forget.
Before I can make up my mind, the darkness inside me surges and almost escapes. I struggle to hold it back, trying not to remember what is always there...
The cold metal, the ringing, the red flowing across the white...
I try to gain control. Something is coming near. Something dark and powerful. I can feel it. My hands shake, and my heart pounds so hard it hurts. I gulp for air, but there’s not enough to fill my lungs.
Henry snaps to his feet. His calm demeanor is replaced with tension I can see and feel. Liam pulls back from Megan, and Catherine sits straight up.
They glance at each other. Henry ignores Megan and me as he strides to the door. Liam follows close behind him, almost shoving Megan out of the way.
Henry looks over his shoulder as he opens the door to the living room. “You two, stay with them, and don’t let them leave.”
He doesn’t wait for a response. They leave, and Liam slams the door shut.
We stay where we are. I am thankful for a chance to gather myself, even though I still find it hard to breathe. No one says a word. We hear muffled voices on the other side of the door, and then all becomes quiet.
Catherine pushes to her feet. “I’m not babysitting them. I’m going to see what’s going on.”
“You know who they are with,” Rob warns. “Even you will get into trouble.”
“I don’t care.” She stalks to the door. “I want to know. You’re a coward, just like your dad.”
Rob snarls at Catherine, looking and sounding more like a vampire than I’ve ever seen him. He follows Catherine to the door and then turns before he leaves.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he warns. “There are things here that if you see, I can no longer protect you. Stay in this room, and don’t touch anything until I get back.”
We nod. I’m unable to speak in my efforts to keep the darkness from erupting. He closes the door, and we are alone. Megan drops onto the couch and exhales like she’s been holding it in for a long time. I don’t move. I can’t. I don’t trust myself.
We stay like that for what seems to be a long time. Without warning, Megan jumps to her feet.
“I can’t take it,” she announces. “I can’t sit here waiting for whatever they are to come back and decide what they’re going to do with me!”
“Rob said to stay here.” I force the words out. They sound hard and cold.
“Did you know?” She whirls around to me. “Did you know what they are when you let me get in the truck?”
“I didn’t let you get in the truck! You forced your way in!” I can’t help the anger in my words.
If you keep pushing me, I won’t be able to keep the rage back, and I know what will happen next.
She glares at me for a long minute and then huffs as she stomps to the door behind Henry’s desk.
“Where are you going?” I hiss. “Rob said to stay here.”
“He’s one of them!” She throws the words like they are daggers over her shoulder. “Unlike you, I’m not so infatuated by one of them that I don’t see the truth.”
“And what’s the truth?” I follow her so they don’t hear us yelling.
“You can’t trust them! A fool can see that! Do you really believe Catherine likes you?” Megan is almost to the door. “She’s playing with you, leading you on.”
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“What do you know?” I snap. “How did you become the expert?”
She stops with her hand on the doorknob. When she turns, I see her for who she is. No masks, no hiding. Even the makeup doesn’t hide the sorrow in her eyes.
“Because I live it every day.” The pain in her blue eyes is raw and deep. “Someday I hope Tyler will love me like I love him. Until then, I play his games.”
“You know he’s a jerk, but you’re putting up with it,” I say. “Is that love?”
She winces like she realizes she revealed a part of herself to me that she didn’t mean to. The walls and masks go up, and the pain is replaced with anger. I realize her hand is still on the doorknob.
“Don’t open it,” I order. “You heard what Rob said.”
She turns the doorknob as she speaks. “I heard. And I’m getting out of here. Are you coming, or are you staying here to be their little play thing?”
Before I can say anything more, Megan throws open the door.
Chapter Forty-Three
Ticks
I don’t want to go through that open door. Behind the door is a narrow staircase leading down with one dim light hanging from the ceiling. I’d bet good money that there is a lot about this place they don’t want seen.
“Let’s go,” Megan whispers.
“No! Shut it, and come back here. Rob’s coming to show us a way out.”
Megan gives me a dirty look and shakes her head. “So gullible. Stay here. But when I get to the truck, I’m not waiting for you.”
“You can’t drive stick shift,” I point out.
“Dang it!” She slaps the door with the palm of her hand. “I forgot! Would you stop being stubborn and just come? You can’t trust them. Besides, you’ve said some real awful things to me. You owe me.”
“I wish you would listen to me,” I mumble.
She grins as I join her. “God said He will take care of us. I believe that.”
We start down the staircase together, and I close the door behind us with the smallest of hopes that they will assume we went out the window.
The stairway is so quiet I can hear Megan’s breathing. The fear of being trapped suffocates me. I take deep breaths, trying to calm my heart and regain control.
Megan leads the way. Her hand trembles a bit, sliding down the banister. As irritating, stubborn, and downright infuriating she is, I marvel at her courage.
Does she really believe what she says? She acts like God is protecting her through every danger.
But I live a life of fear. One cut, and I could die. Give me the wrong type of blood, I will die. And then there’s the darkness inside me. It’s getting harder to control, and I don’t want to hurt anyone.
We make it to the bottom of the steps when Megan stops with a gasp. We enter a long, narrow open room with weak lighting. Hospital beds line the room, maybe twenty on each side. Each bed is occupied by unconscious people with IVs and machines hooked to them covered with a thin sheet. Empty beds line the back of the room.
“What is this?” Megan whispers and creeps closer to the beds.
I follow reluctantly. The men and women on the beds look drugged. Some of them are unwashed and dirty like they were thrown in the bed. Most have long and matted hair. All of them are unconscious.
“What are they doing to these people?” Megan asks.
I study the IVs while trying not to look at the blood. The tubes lead from the bed to a large tub at the side of the bed. Most of the containers have a small amount of blood in them while a few are almost full. I don’t understand. Blood is always hung high on a hook above the person. How would putting the blood below the bed work?
It hits me as hard as Cody’s fist did yesterday. I grab Megan’s arm.
“They’re not giving them blood. They’re taking it out!”
She gives me a look like I’m crazy, but then she realizes what I said.
“We’ve got to get out of here!” I shake her. “This is what Rob was talking about. We could end up here.”
The thought of living the rest of my life drugged, giving my blood to those ticks, makes my stomach churn.
“That’s what I was saying.” She points to the end of the hallway. “Come on. There’s another door.”
She shakes my hand off her arm and leads the way again. I follow, trying desperately not to look at the people or the blood.
Memories push to escape...
The blood on the floor comes closer to me. Ringing fills my ears, and I can see the pain in Brandon’s eyes as he screams for help...
I blink and squeeze my eyes shut.
Megan leads to the other side of the room but stops. She turns around to look back at the forms on the beds again.
I need to get out and away from this before the memory continues any more. I fling the next door open.
But what I see in front of me is as bad as what I left behind. I swallow hard, trying to block the images. But then Megan asks the question that sets the darkness free.
“Who are they?”
The next room is filled with blood. Freezers with glass doors line the walls. Half of them are filled with blood bags. The room with the beds is the collection room. This is where the vampires store the blood. As I stare at the blood, Megan repeats, “Who are they?”
The darkness takes over. The room in front of me drains with color and disappears under a wave of black. I am helpless in its wake. It washes me back to a year ago in Chicago...
Chapter Forty-Four
Shoes
Only 16 days until my junior year is over. But right now I’m stuck in World History. It hasn’t been my favorite class, but it’s bearable, if I can ignore Brandon and Kyle, the class bullies.
Mr. Peterson is droning on about the upcoming test next week. Half of my attention is on him, but I’m really just watching Matt draw a dragon on his notes.
Matt’s pretty cool. He’s a true nerd, complete with the glasses that never stay on, but he can draw like a mad scientist and makes up the funniest storylines. I have no doubt he’ll end up working for the hottest animation company in Hollywood.
Sadly, Brandon and Kyle will make sure to grab Matt’s notebook and rip it to shreds once he’s out of sight from the teachers.
Brandon is stretched out in his chair with one arm hooked over the back of his seat. His books are closed on his desk. They look like they’ve never been open.
Despite being a jock, Brandon has broken the usual stereotype by not being good-looking. His sandy-blond hair always looks unwashed, his clothes are always torn or dirty, and his face is covered with acne. In spite of this, or maybe because of this, he’s our bully.
He’s locked me in my locker and pushed me around a couple of times. Poor Matt has had his head flushed too many times to count, his lunch tray spilled, his homework ruined, been called horrible names, and more stuff than I can remember happen to him.
Kyle, on the other side, is practically lying on his desk. Mr. Peterson doesn’t bother to reprimand him. Kyle’s dad is the head of the school board, and no one tells Kyle what to do. You’d think he’d have some brains, but he’s as dumb as the post that he looks like.
As Matt’s dragon gets wings, Mr. Peterson continues his dull reminder of the material on the test by mentioning the Mayans.
“Who are they?” Brandon asks with a smirk.
“The Mayans?” Mr. Peterson questions with a confused look on his face.
I don’t blame him. We covered the Mayans for five weeks. There was a Hollywood video depicting life in their culture. An expert of the museum came down and brought some artifacts. It was the coolest part of the class all year.
Brandon knows what he’s doing, though. Mr. Peterson is growing increasingly angry.
“They sound Greek.” A few of the girls giggle as Brandon continues. “Do they have anything to do with Percy Jackson?”
“You know who the Mayans are, Brandon.” His face flushes and his breathing is shallow.
“I really want
to know! Are you refusing to teach me?” Brandon takes off in a new direction. “I’ll have to tell Kyle’s dad that you’re refusing to teach me.”
Is he bullying a teacher now?
Mr. Peterson finds himself lost for words. The smirk on Brandon’s face grows. He knows he’s hit a soft spot.
“I could tell Kyle’s dad all sorts of stuff, like how you check Facebook on your phone during class or how you have your special class pet.” Brandon points at Matt.
Matt jerks away from his dragon and does a survey of the room, unsure why he’s been brought into this.
“Now I have to ask you again and see if I have to chat with Kyle’s dad.” Brandon grins maliciously. “Who are they?”
The entire class is so quiet I feel like they have disappeared. I am transfixed, watching Brandon extend his bullying skills to teachers.
Where will he ever stop?
Mr. Peterson doesn’t say anything. He shifts in his chair behind the desk and stares at Brandon like he’s in shock. He pulls himself together, but his hands are trembling.
“You know who they are, Brandon. We studied them for weeks.” Mr. Peterson tries to reason with Brandon, which never works when he’s in his bullying mood.
“Who are they, Mr. Peterson?” Brandon almost shouts.
“I…but you know! You have to know!” He is starting to act like a terrified kid. I can’t help but wonder if he was beat up when he was in school.
“I’ll have to talk to Kyle’s dad,” Brandon shakes his head slowly. “One last chance. Who are they?” The words are spoken slowly with long pauses apart like Mr. Peterson can’t catch the meaning if he speaks quickly.
There is a long pause again. No one does anything or says anything to break the staring contest between the two of them.
I’m shocked to see that Mr. Peterson has stopped trembling. Instead, a thin line of sweat is on his brow. His face is white, but his fear has changed to something different. I can’t quite catch it, and that makes me nervous.
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