by J. P. Uvalle
“I have a distinct feeling this woman doesn't take to blondes,” I whisper to Harper.
Without looking, she elbows me with a half smirk. The older lady, dressed in a fitted black suit, pulls up in front of us, gathering everyone's attention. The chatter ceases as she glares her beady brown eyes at us. I gulp as anxiety grows into a knot at the base of my stomach. She walks back and forth, not saying a word, and seems to be inspecting our attire.
She stops in front of me and points a finger. “You...”
My chest tightens at the sound of her voice.
“…What's our company motto?” She glares at me with a look that could decimate a human being.
I begin to sweat as the motto fleets from my brain. I open my mouth slightly, trying to reel the words back to me. I fail. She shakes her head, obviously disappointed and slides in front of Harper with the same vicious glare.
Without hesitation Harper recites the company motto. “Through blood, sweat, and tears...a star is born.”
“Fuck my life.” I think to myself. I'm not off to a good start. I feel like a complete airhead. How could I not remember a motto I’d recited to myself at least fifty times on the way here?
Cruella Deville, or whatever her name is, turns back to me. “Now, why was that so hard to remember, Miss James?”
Again, I’m completely tongue-tied.
“There's nothing more irritating than an intern who is not prepared. I suggest you don't come back until you are,” she huffs, her eyes staring into mine. At this moment, the disappointment, potent in her glare, makes me want to die.
“Okay,” I utter, just above a whisper. Unable to withstand her stare, I look down. Ashamed. Any self-confidence I have left evaporates instantly under her ridicule.
She swiftly pivots on her heel and motions the others to follow her to the elevator. Several shoot me glances, oozing with pity as they walk past. Harper lags behind to pat me on the shoulder then picks up her pace to join the others. I don't know who's more embarrassed by my stupidity, her or me. She looks at me like I’ve just committed a heinous crime or something. They disappear behind the closing doors, and I'm left behind. Alone. Left to wallow in a puddle of my epic failure.
FOR THE FIRST time in my life, I walk all the way back to campus. Feet bruised and blistered. The throbbing pain is radiating up my legs like fire. I feel unworthy of a cab ride home. And just when I think my day can't get any worse. Hearing a familiar voice causes the hairs on the back of my neck to stand at attention.
“Trinity?”
I freeze in place, closing my eyes. Disappearing right now would be glorious.
“Trinity?” The voice utters again. A hand meets my shoulder, and I feel the seams that hold my heart together begin to unravel.
Fuck my life...
“Baby...please talk to me.”
And just like that, the fueling hatred I have for this man comes back with vengeance.
“Baby?” I smack his hand from my shoulder and pivot around. I lay a heavy slap to his cheek. The impact sending stinging sensations, rippling through my hand. “You lost the privilege of calling me baby when you fucked that cum-guzzling slut!” I stare into his gorgeous brown eyes, the one that once took my breath and chased all my troubles away. Now he was trouble. The man who ripped my heart into a million pieces.
Rubbing his cheek, he says, “I made the biggest mistake a man could possibly make. I don't know what I was thinking, Trinity. My God. I'm such a prick.”
“At least you're right about something.” I'm puffing my cheeks in anger. I didn't know what else to say. What do you say to the man you thought you'd be with forever? A man you thought, you'd one day raise a family and grow old with?
He reaches out to palm my face. I shy away. However, he's persistent on touching me wherever possible.
Holding my wrist, Fabine says, “Trinity, if you give me one more chance...I promise you, I'll never do anything to hurt you ever again. I swear, baby, please. I love—”
“Don't you dare say those words to me!” I rip my wrist from his grasp, and the tears start to trickle from my eyes. “…If you loved me, you would've never done what you did.”
Although my feet are killing me, I run. I run as fast as I can, leaving Fabine, the man I once loved with every part of me, in the past. I don't know what my future holds, but I know for certain that it’s not him. Where do I go from here?
Chapter Three
Lord Vladimir
AS NIGHT FALLS, my eyes spring to life. The insatiable hunger—the need to feed—propels me from my bed and into a contraption that humans refer to as a shower. The water sprays down; the stream is soothing, and I get lost in the comfort of it, letting the drops of heat trickle down my skin.
My bliss is soon interrupted by the sound of Delia's voice on the other side of the door. She knocks, and then walks in without waiting for permission to enter. I clench my jaw and ball my fists. I growl, vibrating the walls. She doesn't seem fazed by my anger.
She opens the curtain. “Lord Vladimir, the elders' council would like to speak with you before we patrol the streets tonight.”
“All right,” I growl once more.
She laughs. “Have I upset you, my Lord?” She cocks her head, putting her hands on her hips. She apparently finds my anger amusing.
I glare and say, “Very much so.” To prevent myself from attacking her viciously—which is what the old me would've done—I snatch the curtain closed. “Now, get out! Don't invade my personal space without my permission ever again,” my voice echoes.
I hear her gasp, and the door immediately slams shut.
I WIND MY way through the dark tunnels of the underground compound, reaching the lair of the elders’ council. Enormous double-doors greet me and screech open, revealing an empty room made of gray stone.
The elders never appear in physical form—only as a hologram. Trust me; if you were ever to see an elder in person, it’s never for a good reason. You’re about to be excommunicated or destroyed.
A blue flash of light whirls around me. Immediately I kneel as a sign of respect to the elder about to appear before me.
“Lord Vladimir,” a deep voice says. A voice, I immediately recognize belonging to Elder, Aragón. The first of our kind. The most feared elder due to the fact, he only feeds on vampire blood. Aragón was born with a rare blood disease, and when he became a vampire, human blood was unable to sustain his organs and powers. The members of our kindred graciously offer their blood to Aragón. Well...we don't have a choice in the matter, but it is deemed an honor.
I stare at his black boots peeking out from his blue robe. “My elder, how may I be of service to you?”
The grumble in his chest shakes the walls surrounding us. My heart stops, and for a split-second, I fear I'll be destroyed. “The Dyciphers have awakened and have snuck their way back into the city. I want them destroyed, immediately. New York must remain safe from the abomination of vamp-demon scum. Their species could easily be the undoing of our kind, and co-existence will be abolished if you fail. Stop them, now!”
I expel a long breath, knowing I’ll live to see another day. “I will not fail you, Sire.”
He drifts closer. “Good. Now, go! Our city needs your protection.” I nod, and sprint out of the room, through the compound, and land on a side street. My brood and subservient follow swiftly at my side as we move through the streets.
“Dycipher,” I grumble under my breath. I catch the whiff of a foul scent, tracking its source to the west side highway near an abandoned diner. I slowly approach to peer inside, while my brood stands guard around the diner. Except for Delia, of course. She stands next to me almost stepping on my boot.
Looking down to my boot then back to her, I say, “I understand it’s part of your job description to follow me around, but do you have to stand—”
A sudden movement inside the pitch-black diner diverts my attentio
n. I move, in a flash, after the shadow. Delia and Ozario trail behind me into the darkness.
Inside the grungy, wore-down diner, my eyes act as night vision goggles scanning every inch in search of the shadow I followed. Its scent, choking the air with rotten flesh.
“Those mutants disgust me,” I think to myself, cautiously creaking open the kitchen door. A pan hits the floor—the impact stings my ears, and I pivot toward the direction of the sound. I hold up my hand for the brood to stay put as I move forward.
As I hear a beat of a wing above my head, I react quickly, jumping and forcing my fist into the chest of the beast, hanging above me. A howl escapes its mouth full of searing fangs, as it flies over their heads and right into our trap.
Dashing back to the front, we watch a member of our brood in the distance blast the winged creature with a stun-gun. He continues to shock the creature with electric waves.
We sprint over in a blur. I order for him to stop as I reach down to pick the mutant up by his slimy throat. “How did you heathens get past the protection barrier of the city?”
A laugh penetrates through his meaty chest and into the air, piercing my ears.
I shake it while tightening my grip in frustration from the lack of an answer. The scum laughs louder. I snap its neck and pull the locks of his oily and matted hair, ripping his head from his winged body in one quick motion. For the first time, I see a gleam of fear in Delia's eyes. My display of anger had shown her a glimpse of what I am truly capable of.
Good.
“Now what do we do, my Lord?” Ozario bravely spoke.
I hold up the head of the beast. “This is a warning to all Dyciphers. “Leave our city or meet your demise. I am aware you all travel in packs and—”
A blur flies at me and sends me head first into the concrete wall behind me. Realization set in as I shook off the attack. We were being ambushed. This was their plan all along. They might be an abomination, but they are intelligent scum fucks.
“Destroy them,” I screech from the top of my lungs. I plow an iron fist into the jaw of the Dycipher trying to kill me with his atrocious breath and claws. The smell of decaying flesh and blood wreaks havoc on the inside of my nostrils.
“That's a fatal mistake you just made, Vladimir,” the beast growls. “This is our city now. The sooner you realize that, the better.” It plunges its deadly, sharp claws into my arms.
I howl towards the sky before serving a heavy boot to the bare chest of the beast.
“Never. This city is and will always be mine.” Without hesitation, I snatch the beating heart from the Dycipher’s chest and the body falls into a heaping pile of shit on the ground. I give the pile one last kick.
“Lord Vladimir,” I hear Delia scream.
I look up to see one Dycipher flying in the direction of Times Square. My heartbeat accelerates.
The humans can't know these creatures exist. I must kill it!
As my feet pound the pavement—my brood behind me, I question my thoughts. Will we make it into the city in time to destroy the Dycipher?
Chapter Four
Trinity James
HOURS AFTER MY epic failure and the run-in with my ex, I decide to do some retail therapy. And when buying name brand clothes isn’t cutting it anymore, I turn down an alley to enter a hole-in-the-wall bar. A bar named Thirst. Because the bottom of a glass is calling my name.
I strut in and take a seat at the bar, ignoring the pairs of penetrating eyes on me. Even though the majority of them belonged to vampires, they weren't allowed to bite me. I am not a donor, and the small tattoo on my hand symbolizes this fact. They know to steer clear of me or else be destroyed by their elders.
“What can I get you, little lady?”
“An Old-fashioned, please.”
The bartender goes about mixing up my drink as a vampire with a white beard longer than my hair takes a seat next to me. His eyes of gold trail down the length of my body.
He disgustingly licks his lips in a full circle. “What tasty little morsel do we have here?”
“She's off limits, pal. Look at her tattoo.” The bartender points to the double-lined circle on my hand.
“I'm justa lookin.” He slyly lifts the corner of his mouth, revealing his rotten fang.
The sight and smell of him is revolting, and bubbles of nausea form in my belly.
I can't believe I live in a world where these foul-smelling creatures exist!
“My apologies. I'm gonna have to take a rain check on that drink. I have to go.” I get up to leave, but the bearded beast catches me by my wrist.
“Ah-uh. Not so fast, Miss Trinity James.”
The instant I hear my name, I whip around faster than lightning. The disgusting vampire certainly has my attention now. “What the hell...how do you know my name?”
“Your father was a worthy opponent. I can see you have the same fight in you...” His hold on my wrist tightens—the pressure makes my hand go numb. Reluctantly, I stay put while he bares all teeth, bending down to my ear. His breath, hot. The potent smell of whiskey and onions invades my nose. “...I enjoyed watching the light go out in his eyes after I ripped out his throat...with these fangs.” He snaps his jaws together like a flytrap next to my ear, and the sound makes me shudder.
I feel an invisible punch to my chest after the words leave his mouth. He paints a visually gruesome scene in my head of my father. A scene I'll never be able to shake from my memory—thinking of the excruciating pain my father endured before he took his last breath. I thought I couldn't possibly hate a vampire more than I already do...until I met this asshole!
My hand cuts through the air as I try to make contact with his bearded face. He counters with a punch to my stomach. The impact propels the air out of my lungs, and I feel queasy as bile burns my throat. Flying backward, I swallow hard and fall into the claws of another filthy vampire.
Fuck my life!
“She's mighty fun to play with, isn't she, Breck? Pretty too.”
The bearded vampire named Breck laughs. “Yes. I'm thinking ‘bout keeping her as my little sex slave. What do you think fellas?” he asks as he grabs my chin to observe my eyes more closely. Too close for my comfort. The stench of him makes the bile hit the base of my throat once more.
“Knock it off, you creeps,” I hear the bartender yell from behind the bar.
Mr. Beard with the vile breath storms over, snatches up the bartender, and pulls him over the counter to him by the collar of his shirt. “Oh yeah...and what the fuck are ya gon’ do ‘bout it if we don't?”
“I... I’m...Lord Vladimir.”
“Lord Vladimir,” Mr. Beard mocks his name in a high-pitched voice. “I ain't scared of no Lord Vlad—”
BOOM!
The window shatters and the sound sends my heart into a palpating frenzy. Everyone panics and scatters while the vampire holding me shoves me to the ground, before zooming out of the door in a blur. My knees and hands smack the ground hard, and I immediately take cover with my hands over my head, tucking my knees underneath me. My body stiffens when I hear an ear-deafening squawking sound followed by a grumble, hovering above me.
What the hell?
A stinging pain attacks my back as my screams of agony echo in the air. Something tears into the meat of me, latching its sharp claws into my skin, securing its deadly grip. I'm suddenly lifted off the ground, into the air, and out of the broken window. Everything is a swirl of color underneath me. Cold air whips across my face. Soaring higher into the sky, I start to feel faint. Maybe from the combination of speed and blood loss? The thing that has a hold of me starts to screech so loud I'm afraid my eardrums may burst from the sound. I decide right then and there, I decide, I rather fall to my death then be held hostage by this creature. I hate living in a world with vampires. If there’s something more dangerous than them, I can do without it. So death…is my fate.
I struggle against th
e claws shredding my skin, trying to rock myself out of its death grip. It squawks nosily as I reach up to unhook the claws from my back, and take a leap to my death. As I fall gracefully to my doom, I grasp the heart-shaped locket around my neck and squeeze my eyes close. “I'll be with you soon, papa.”
Looking down, with adrenaline rattling my veins, I snort. Just my luck. Of all the places to end my life, I'll die in the middle of a traffic jam on the Brooklyn Bridge.
My aim is fucking terrible.
Nearing a blue speck, which quickly becomes the top of a blue van, I say one last prayer, grip tighter onto my locket, and brace myself for impact. My life plays like a movie inside my mind. All the happy times—beautiful memories of my father and I having picnics in the park. My fifteen birthday when he gave me this locket. He'd told me my grandfather had given it to my mother on her fifteenth birthday and he wanted to keep up the tradition. But sadly, this tradition ends with me.
SMACK!
I face-plant into the metal of the van. Warmth invades my entire body as I hear the crackling-pop of my bones being crushed underneath my muscles. Blood seeps from my nose, and my vision becomes cloudy. My breathing slows and soon everything around me turns to black as the cars horns and the screams begin to fade.
Goodbye, world.
Chapter Five
Lord Vladimir
JUMPING OUT OF the broken window, I chase after the winged beast carrying a woman. My surroundings blend in streaks as I soar at lightning speed through the streets. I make it near the Brooklyn Bridge entrance as she falls rapidly from the dark sky and soon collides—face-first—onto a blue van. My eyes grow wide as my heart twists, running and leaping over cars to get to her. I pray, hoping there’s a chance she’s still alive. Maybe if I get her to the hospital in time, I can save her life. As I land on the hood of the van, screams erupt from its passengers. Blood pours from her nose as the life quickly drains from her petite and mangled body.