by Amanda Byrd
Trapped
The Dr. van Wolfe Saga
Book 1
Columbus, Ohio
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is
purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Amanda Byrd
Cover Design by Nick Parto
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Please direct inquiries to
[email protected]
Published by Gatekeeper Press
3971 Hoover Rd. Suite 77
Columbus, OH 43123-2839
www.GatekeeperPress.com
ISBN: 9781619848160
eISBN: 9781619848153
Printed in the United States of America
For everyone who has ever supported this crazy
writing bug of mine and those who love reading
Contents
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
About the Author
Prologue
Let’s go back to how this all started. Call it a trip back in time, if you would like. About four years ago, I, Dr. Miranda van Wolfe, at the age of thirty-five, was not a doctor yet. I was still in school earning my Bachelor and Master Degrees. I was also a universe traveller, although I did not know it in the very beginning.
It started with a dream, or what I thought was a dream. That following weekend, I heard a voice and not just any voice—not something that sounded human, anyway. It told me it was going to take me to another universe to set things right there, so the universe I lived in and the one I was being sent to fix would merge. It really started simply and nicely enough.
Then things started getting . . . weird. The universe started referring to the trips it sent me on as errands, dangerous errands, and finally, that last trip, was a mission. I had saved my friends and family over and over. I even had a partner until that last mission. What I did not ever know, until the very end was that I was not fully human. During an errand to an alternate universe to save my friend and her family, I fought, and killed, a magical werewolf with my own formidable magic. During that battle, I had been scratched and magically healed myself. I was never able to figure out how until my universe travelling days were over about a year ago. It all just . . . ended, stopped dead in its tracks. Hah, stopped dead, what a reference, Miranda.
You see, that last mission was a battle for the entire fate of the multiverse. There was a woman named Venus who was able to control people’s minds just by whispering into their ear. My partner Xavier and I had gone to this universe (I had also earned my doctorate the day we left for that universe). So here I am, being sent on a mission with a man-child I am absolutely infuriated with because he missed my graduation that day, and we wind up in some 1940s style Twilight Zone. I was stuck in a dress half the time and finally managed to get some gear that allowed me to actually fight without flouncing around like a floofball.
Anyway, I got dark, and by dark, I mean my soul almost left me, and had I not still had a part of me that was, err, is, human, it would be gone right now. So Xavier and I had to go meet up with his doppelganger in 1940s Twilight Zone to get whatever information on Venus we could, seeing how he was already under Venus’ mind control. There is no way to nicely tell you what I did to that poor man, but suffice it to say I did not kill him. The weird part was he was so grateful to me for saving his life and breaking the mind hold he let me stay with him until this whole mind control business was finished. He even bought me clothes, fed me . . . gave up his bed to me! I am pretty sure I will never again meet a human that incredibly grateful.
Notice I said “let me” stay with him? That is because my Xavier was dumb enough to get himself controlled by Venus. That also meant she knew we were there to stop her, where we had been, what I had done to Xavier’s doppelganger, and what our plans were until the moment she walked out of Museum’s—it was the lounge she used to prey upon people—arm in arm with my Xavier. Venus took Xavier back to her base of operations, L’hôtel. It turned out, thanks to doppelganger getting me the architectural plans from City Hall, that L’hôtel actually was a hotel about twenty years prior.
I spent about two or three days scoping the place out; counting how many people came in and out, entrances and exits, you name it. I went full on SWAT team with that place. I even used the sewers during the day to get there just so I could get up closer to the building! Thank doppelganger for the sewer plans. Doppelganger’s first name was also Xavier, so I called him by his last name, Acad, more so to keep the two separated in my own mind. Acad even managed to get me the tactical clothing I wore that destructive, savage, and downright deadly night. I wish I could see Acad again, but my universe travelling days are over for good now. I had turned into something no one would ever wish on their worst enemy. I became what nightmares are made of.
I killed the doormen first and then took on sixty-two—SIXTY-TWO—people inside on my own. I killed every last one of them, too; ate their hearts and drank their blood. See, I felt this hunger growing inside me from the moment Xavier and I had arrived in 1940s Twilight Zone and was unable to figure out what it was until it was too late. During the battle, I had sprouted fangs, fur, and four-inch-long fingernails formed into spikes. None of it hurt, at least not that I was aware of since I was so full of hunger, anger, and adrenaline. I found Venus, Xavier by her side, in her private study off the side of the lounge. Xavier had no idea what I had become, neither did I to be honest, and Venus forced him to attack me. I ripped his heart out with my bare hands—can furry, clawed hands be called hands?—and ate it. His brain was still alive temporarily, so he registered what I did. Venus was next and last. I ripped her throat out with my teeth, eating and drinking happily.
What had I become? It took until I found myself back in my beach-front apartment to realize. Not only am I still part human, but I am also part vampire by birth, and part werewolf from that magical battle years ago. Why it took so many years to fully manifest and show my combination vampirism-werewolfism did not make sense then. But it does now. I was so angry at Xavier that something inside me snapped and let the monsters out to play.
So here I am, three months later, a werepire, yet still part human and doctor. Okay, fine, I am not a doctor in the sense that you come see me for a physical or something like that. I am a psychotherapist, also known as a psychologist. I get to help patients work past their insecurities, anxieties, and other issues all while being two-thirds monster, mentally and physically.
One
Teddy walked into the kitchen for his morning coffee, black, no sugar or creamer. Miranda followed sleepily behind, still rubbing the crust from her eyes. Half-asleep, she pulled the freezer drawer open to grab three ice c
ubes but got five in her fatigue. She dropped two back into the ice bin, forgot to close the freezer drawer and walked into it, knee first.
“Son of a-!” She yelled as she grabbed her now bleeding knee.
She pushed the drawer closed more frustrated than angry and turned back around to get her cup of coffee. Teddy snickered as she put the ice cubes in her mug and happily poured Miranda the piping hot caffeinated bean juice. Miranda simply nodded her thanks and downed that first mug like it was the first glass of water she had come close to after days in the desert. Teddy looked at her quizzically, even tilting his head to the side like a dog, but poured her another. The scent of blood awakened her senses much quicker than any amount of caffeine ever could, causing her to look down at her right knee.
“Oh seven hells, it’s all over the floor,” Miranda said, “I wonder how much of it we can bag. You did mop only yesterday.”
Teddy bent down to grab a few blood bags from a cabinet under the counter and handed them to Miranda. He was not much of a fan of blood, let alone blood all over the tile floor he so painstakingly mopped and scrubbed the day prior. He grumbled something unintelligible and walked out of the kitchen to sit on the couch and catch the weather for the day. After all, it was five o’clock in the morning and this was their usual routine, minus blood all over the floor. Miranda had a room for all her blood bags, which also included a ten-foot-long freezer for all the dead animal hearts and steaks. This was their life now and Teddy had to get used to it. He loved Miranda regardless that she was two parts monster and one part human.
Carefully siphoning the blood into the bags, Miranda’s mind took over. Just look at all that tasty blood! It is better than coffee. Lick it off the floor! Oh, the smell, so sweet and hot, okay lukewarm now . . . it tastes much better hot. Boil it and trash that coffee. NO! I like my coffee, thank you. I’ll set this aside for lunch today. I’m a little tired of pig, beef, chicken, and lamb blood anyway. Besides, there’s something about the taste of fear that makes the blood a little sweeter. And warmer, of course; anyone running has a higher body temperature. Anyone. I haven’t had human in a little over a year and I’m thinking it may be time to play. Maybe go for some scumbag criminal who hasn’t been arrested yet? Wait, do I even have friends still on the force to get me that kind of information? Hell. How do I not even know what my friends do anymore? Ohhhh, that’s right. I went a bit into hiding, only coming out to see my patients and animals that were bred for slaughter anyway. Maybe that blood spatter guy in Miami can help me? I’m more of a monster than he is and I’m not the type of person he’d kill anyway. I don’t commit crimes or kill people. Okay, fine, I do kill people, but only when I must. Besides, that was ages ago. Yes, just over a year does constitute use of the word ‘ages’. Note to self: look up that guy’s phone number. He hates blood anyway . . . That’s enough! BOTH of you! Hell, you guys can go on some rants, huh? Can we please just finish cleaning this up and get on with our day now? Good. Thank you.
“Teddy, we’re finishing the packing today, right?”
“Yes babe, for the umpteenth time, yes. I’ve already scheduled the movers for this afternoon, too. Calm down. We’re going home to Florida. Now get ready for that going away party at the office, would you?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m going. Just as soon as I get this blood packed into the warmer so it’s the right temperature when I get back. Think I’ll be able to eat cake? I sure as hell hope so. The human part of me wants cake. Bad.”
Miranda laughed, kissed Teddy, went to put the blood in the special warmer her and some friends engineered from a manicure equipment sterilizer, and hurried back upstairs to start her morning routine. She was excited to finally be leaving this place—this place full of memories, most good and some bad. The end was the worst series of memories she had since childhood. Shaking her head, she walked up the stairs, coffee in hand. Gazing around the now boxed up bedroom, Miranda grew a bit nostalgic and was not sure she truly wanted to leave. Given the severity and mentally anguishing pain she felt about staying, she knew she had to go home. There was no way she could stay and be happy. It helped that Florida was full of other monsters, many more than here in California. Plus, she hated California. The people were excruciatingly superficial and social circles were determined by who you knew and, sometimes, rarely, or, how much money you had.
Living out of suitcases for the next week and a half was hardly Miranda’s first choice, but it had to suffice. She chose a mid-calf length red dress and black patent leather heels for her final departure party. She showered and dried her hair, then got dressed. Her dress fit a little snug from the shoulder straps down past her rib cage then hung in a manner that flattered her shape. She put the front part of her hair into a pouf with a couple of bobby pins and let the rest lay flat down her back. Her eye makeup perfectly accentuated her green eyes; eyes that looked into the soul of a person and could tear it out with a wink. The last of her makeup was the red lipstick she so adored. She admired herself in the full-length mirror as she slipped her shoes on. Twirling this way and that, she fell into a haze of how beautiful she was in human form. Shaking her head back to reality, she huffed and headed down the stairs. When Teddy saw her his jaw dropped.
“You don’t really dress like that anymore for date night, you know. What gives?”
Giving him a sly smile she said, “I promise I will again once we get home.”
She gave Teddy a quick kiss, turned and grabbed her keys and purse from the countertop, and turned back to face Teddy. One more kiss and she was walking toward the door that led to the garage where her black chariot of night awaited her. It had been three months and Miranda decided she needed a new SUV, even if it was only a feeble attempt at tossing her memories deep into the depths of the oceans. Unlocking the vehicle, she got in, opened the garage door, and started her chariot. To Miranda, the SUV really was a chariot—it took her where ever she wanted to go, whenever. She was okay that it did not fly; she would have her flying rides soon enough. After backing out and closing the garage, she called Frank, the builder of her house in Florida for an update.
“Frank! Hey buddy! How’s it coming? Will it be ready when we get there?”
“Hey, Miranda! I’m glad you called!”
He’s glad I called. Seven hells, what’s the damned problem now? He best not have some nonsensical joke of a reason for anything.
“So look, there’s a bit of a delay . . .”
There it is. Let’s hear his excuse this time.
“Frank, I told you three months ago delays are unacceptable unless there’s a hurricane and there hasn’t been. What kind of crap answer do you have for me now?”
“That worker, Bob, I told you about? He’s terrified of your house and I can’t figure out why. The problem is he’s the stone guy doing the half-pillars at the end of the driveway. He got the rest of the house done but said something about getting the creeps and hasn’t come back since. That was a week ago.”
This is the most absurd thing I have ever heard! A WEEK? And he waits until NOW, the day we drive back, to tell me?
“Frank, dear, sweet, Frank, have you hired another stone guy to get the pillars done?”
“Well, no . . . I figured I’d set you up meetings for when you get back so you can pick the guy to finish them. The rest of the house is finished and I have a cleanup crew in there now. The cleaning company comes tomorrow so the place should smell nice and lemony when you walk in.”
“Frank, how many times must I tell you to stop with the lemon cleaner jokes? If I smell anything other than nothing, and I mean nothing, no flowers or fruity garbage, you will not see the money for the cleaners, got it? Just spray that air freshener that smells like fresh linen you fool.”
“Sorry. I really thought you were kidding about the lemon scent jokes. Febreeze it is. So, I’ll meet you at the house around noon in three days?”
“Yeah, provided we get out of here o
n time today. Uh, what day is today, anyway?”
“The day of your farewell party, duh. No, really, it’s Monday.”
“Thanks, Frank. Now off with you and get my damn house finished by ten Wednesday night. I will not walk in to see cleaners or anything of the sort.”
“I would never allow that to happen, Doc.”
“Good. Have a great few days without me and if there happens to be another joke of an emergency, you had best call me. I really should know that threats seem to be the only way to get through to you and you really need to do better, Frank. Ta ta!”
She hit the little red button with the phone on it to disconnect the call and continued backing out of her driveway. Her street was unusually busy for nine in the morning, but she did not seem to mind. She would be on her way home soon enough. Even the nightmarish traffic did not bother her. Miranda was happy to be going home, back to Florida, where she belonged.
It took over an hour to get to her office, which normally took about thirty minutes, but she shrugged it off. She had people waiting to wish her well on her new journey and was grateful for that. Only two of them were friends in a sense, Lilly and Ned. Those two were the friends who had engineered Miranda’s blood warmer under the pretense that it was for research. They did not need to know the real purpose—no one did. She parked her SUV in her spot—the spot marked ‘Parking for Dr. van Wolfe only’ and stared at the sign. I always wanted my own parking spot but does that even matter anymore? I mean, why? I’ll have one back home, too. Is it significant in any way? I mean, sure, it shows I’ve come a long way and finally gained what I wanted; what I was meant to do. But I also gained things I didn’t want here. No. This parking spot is significant. I’m keeping this sign. With that thought, she got out of her SUV, locked it and heard the chirp of the alarm setting, and yanked the sign clear off the pole, leaving only the bolt holes in the sign itself. Ah, the perks of werepire strength. Holding the sign in one hand, she walked to the door and opened it.