The Vampire & Angel Wars Complete Collection

by G. K. DeRosa

  I quickly looked away. A piece of me broke that day—seeing her like that. The rest of me broke after Dad and Ash came back from his farm later that day.

  Chapter 10

  Asher lost everything in one day—his sisters, his mom and dad, his farm, his home. His whole life burnt to the ground. He hadn’t spoken a word in three days now. Worse, he wouldn’t even look at me.

  I didn’t know what to do. I stumbled around the small basement, trying to give him space that didn’t exist. Dad didn’t want any of us leaving the safe room—not even to let Duke out. He’d have to take care of his business on his own and paw at the door when he was ready to come back in.

  I followed Dad to the door as he snuck out for his daily assessment of the grounds. From the crack in the door, I could just make out the huge gaping hole on the second floor of our home. I hadn’t been outside to see more of the damage. The angels now made daily visits, flying just over the top of the roof. Night was even worst. The constant flutter of ginormous wings consumed my days and plagued my nightmares.

  Ash sat at the table, chewing on a strip of beef jerky. He donned the same blank mask he’d been wearing since the day he came back from his destroyed home three days ago.

  Guilt swirled in my belly, tossing and turning like a ship on a stormy sea. I couldn’t let him keep suffering alone.

  With Dad outside and Mom in the bathroom, we’d have some semblance of privacy. Now was my chance. I marched over and sat beside him, yanking the jerky out of his hand. “You need to talk to me, Ash. Please. I’m here for you.” I fixed my gaze to his, refusing to let him squirm away.

  He shook his head and raked his hand over his weary face. “I can’t.”

  “I know this is horrible. No—I don’t know. I have no idea what you’re going through because you won’t let me in. I can’t imagine how awful this must be for you but shutting me out isn’t the answer.”

  “You don’t get it,” he muttered.

  “Don’t get what?” I scooted closer, pleased I’d made some sort of progress.

  “I should’ve been there.” He paused and swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bouncing wildly. “I would’ve been there if it hadn’t been for you.”

  My neck snapped back as if he’d actually slapped me. All the air evaporated from my lungs as I absorbed the look of hatred in his eyes. The day of the attack flitted through my mind like a movie reel. I’d stopped him from going home. He had stayed to play another game of Monopoly with me.

  “Ash—” My throat felt like it was coated in sawdust.

  He raised his hand and shook his head again. “Just don’t.”

  “You blame me for not being there with them?”

  He clenched his fists at his sides, and I waited with baited breath for him to punch the table or the nearest inanimate object. Hopefully not me. “I should’ve been there,” he gritted out through his teeth.

  “You would’ve been dead!” I leapt out of my seat, glaring down at him. How could he be so stupid?

  “Maybe I should’ve been!” He pounded his fist against the makeshift table, and it toppled over with a crash. “They were my family. As messed up as things were sometimes, they were all I had. I should’ve been there.”

  “No…” Tears streamed down my face now, and there was no stopping them. “You still have me and my parents. We need you, Ash. I’m so sorry you lost everything, but please… If I’d lost you too, I wouldn’t have survived.”

  He just kept shaking his head, refusing to meet my eyes.

  I threaded my fingers through my hair, pulling at the ends. An unladylike grunt bubbled to the surface. How had this happened? How was our world being ravaged by vampires and angels? How was my best friend mad at me because he didn’t die?

  “Ash, please.” I knelt down in front of him, squeezing his clenched fists.

  He diverted his gaze out the window, and a deep crack etched across my heart.

  “I’m so sorry, Ash.”

  The bathroom door creaked open and I jumped up to my feet, wiping the tears from my cheeks. Mom stepped out without giving either of us a second glance. She tightened the tie of her bathrobe and slipped back onto the cot. My mom no longer existed—we’d only been left with her empty shell.

  I convinced myself it was better that way. Maybe she couldn’t feel what the rest of us had to endure and selfishly, it would hurt less when I lost her. Because somehow I knew I would. I’d lose all of them.

  And I was right.

  Epilogue

  Losing my parents finally leveled the playing field between Asher and me. A part of me always felt he resented that they were alive, and his family wasn’t. One day he got his wish.

  That was a horrible thing to say, and I really didn’t mean it. I didn’t truly think my best friend wished for my parents to die. And I knew he definitely didn’t wish to be the one to find them—or rather their mutilated corpses.

  Vampires. We’d thought the angels were bad, but once the immortal bloodsuckers ravaged the north, we prayed for the angels to return. Not many in our small town survived. Not many had been prepared like my Dad had been.

  Even with all the provisions, he and mom ventured out once a week to scavenge for more. I never should’ve let them go that day. We had more than enough at that point in time, but Dad was always worried we’d run out with four mouths to feed.

  When they didn’t come back after two days, I knew they were dead. The most they’d ever been gone was twenty-four hours. I tried to go out to look for them, but Asher refused to let me go. He was thinking the same thing I was—I could see it in his eyes. They were gone.

  At some point overnight, I awoke to an empty basement. Asher’s cot was bare, his boots missing. Duke sat by the door with his big ears on high alert. Fear surged through my insides, tangling them into terrible knots. He’d gone out searching for my parents. I knew this without a doubt because I would have done the same for him.

  The next few hours were some of the worst of my life. I paced the length of the basement until I’d worn a path on the cement—or at least it seemed like I should have. I sent up prayer after prayer to a God I wasn’t sure existed anymore to bring them all back safe.

  I couldn’t lose them all. I wouldn’t survive alone.

  A low growl drew me from my dark thoughts, and my heart leapt up to my throat as Duke’s hackles rose. He stood with every muscle strained, eyeing the door as the growl reverberated in his throat.

  I crept over to the old wooden chest and pulled out my dad’s gun, my hands shaking. It may not stop a vampire or an angel, but maybe it would slow one down. I cocked the safety, my finger a hair’s breath from the trigger and trained it toward the door.

  Three quick knocks and a long pause. Releasing the breath I’d been holding, I lowered the gun and ran to the door.

  Hauling the metal bar to the side, I pushed the heavy thing open and my heart nearly gave out at the sight of my best friend. He wrapped me in a tight embrace before I could get a word out. Glancing over his shoulder, I anxiously searched the bare tree line for my parents—a tiny shred of hope still lingering.

  When I pulled back, my eyes finally met Asher’s. It was like I’d been punched in the gut—all the air whooshing out of my lungs with just one look.

  “I’m so sorry, Liv.”

  A shudder wracked my chest, and all the fear and anxiety from the past few days exploded into a powerful sob. They were gone. My parents were really gone.

  I crumpled to the floor and took Ash down with me. He held me while I cried, rocking me gently. I bawled until every drop of moisture had depleted from my body. When I had nothing left, icy numbness crept through my veins. My eyelids were heavy and swollen but everything else was numb. I felt like I was floating, no longer tethered to the earth—there was nothing left for me there anymore.

  At some point, Ash lifted my chin and stared down at me, his green eyes filled with more sorrow than the day his own family died. “We’re going to get through this, Liv. I p
romise you. We’ll survive this somehow.”

  I nodded because I didn’t have the energy to fight with him and curled back into his chest. Closing my eyes, I waited for the darkness to pull me under. I didn’t want to think anymore; I didn’t want to feel anything. Ever again.

  Hours later or heck maybe even days later, I dragged myself off the floor. Asher’s head leaned against the cinderblock wall, his neck at an uncomfortable-looking angle. His chest rose and fell slowly, and for a while I just watched him. Even asleep the sharp angle of his jaw was pronounced. Dark smudges shadowed his eyes and there was a hollowness to his cheeks that wasn’t there just a few months ago. I wondered what I looked like now? Dad hadn’t thought of equipping the bunker with something so unnecessary as a mirror. Pain lanced through my heart like a hot poker at the thought of never seeing him again.

  Nothing was left of our house above the basement. It had all happened so fast that I never thought to bring some pictures or other mementos down to the bunker. And now all I had left were memories. One day our home stood proudly in the middle of the apple orchards, and the next it was gone. Just like my parents.

  Ash and I hunkered down in the basement with our supplies, able to survive for months without leaving the bunker. Time moved swiftly—days morphing to weeks and then months. It’s true what they say: time heals all wounds. Eventually things went back to normal for Ash and me. Well, as normal as they could be for two orphan teenagers trapped in a basement with angels and vampires fighting overhead.

  Asher had changed though; he wasn’t my happy-go-lucky best friend anymore. I supposed I’d changed too. We’d both lost so much, more than any person should have to bear at our age—at any age. In a world like the one we now lived in, how could you not change and expect to survive?

  I hope you enjoyed The Vampire and Angel Wars! Now read on for a special sneak peek of Hitched: The Bachelorette.

  Sneak Peek of Hitched: The Bachelorette

  Chapter 1

  The harsh white light of the camera is blinding. Beads of sweat accumulate on my brow, but I’m too nervous to wipe them away. Now I know exactly how a deer feels, frozen under the glare of neon headlights. The red light on the camera continues to blink at me, taunting. My heart beats out a frantic staccato as I clutch the pages in my lap. Every ounce of moisture in my mouth has evaporated, and my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth.

  “Ms. Starr, are you okay?” The casting director shoots me a troubled glance. He and the associate producer stand in the shadow of the blinding light just to the right of the camera guy. Even in the shadows, I recognize the AP, Tycen Vale. His trademark pinstripe suit reeks of wealth and power. He’s a relative newcomer in the Hollywood scene according to Gianfranco, my agent, but he’s young and whatever he touches turns to ratings gold.

  I chew on my lower lip and clamp my hands together in my lap to keep them from shaking. Get it together, Kimmie-Jayne! This is my biggest audition yet, and I’m totally about to blow it. Okay so maybe I’ve only had three since moving to L.A. two months ago, but this is definitely the most important one.

  “Did your agent not give you the sides?” Again the casting director glares at me, his icy blue eyes freezing the dribble of sweat snaking down my back.

  Ack! Why couldn’t I remember his name? So much for being prepared.

  I stare down at the short selection from the script that Gianfranco sent me, my pulse rapidly elevating. I did have it memorized a few hours ago, but every single word has disappeared from my brain at the moment. Why does a reality TV show need a script anyway?

  The camera guy steps away from behind the mounted camcorder and gives me a smile. His warm grin is sweet and disarming, and the tension in my shoulders relents a tad. He runs his hand through his sandy-brown hair and regards me. “It might help if you pretend you’re talking to me, instead of looking right into the camera lens.”

  I swallow thickly and nod, releasing the clenched sheet of paper in my hands. The casting director and the AP wear matching expressions of boredom, and I decide to turn my focus toward Camera Guy since he seems the nicest of the bunch. His gray Henley and distressed jeans give him a relaxed vibe, unlike the other two in their sleek tailored suits.

  Voices filter through the walls of the casting office. They’re so thin I can hear a feminine voice reciting the lines I was supposed to have memorized through the cheap plaster. I bet she’s killing it. Unlike me.

  I draw in a breath, and Camera Guy winks at me. Okay, I’m ready. “Hi, I’m Kimmie-Jayne, and I’m twenty years old from Clarksville, Missouri. I think I’d be the perfect choice for the starring role on Hitched because I’m ready for love. I’ve never dated much—only one guy actually. He was my high school sweetheart. Getting to know twenty-five guys all at once would be the perfect way to make up for my lack of experience and fast-forward the dating game.” I glance up, and Tycen Vale is staring at his phone—probably texting someone. The casting director has his arms folded across his chest, and he’s looking in my direction but his face is completely expressionless. I’m totally bungling this. My shoulders sag, but I continue. “I’m looking for a guy that’s sweet, smart and adventurous, but mostly someone that knows how to treat a girl like a lady. Basically I’m looking for my very own prince charming.”

  At that, Camera Guy smirks, and heat floods my cheeks.

  “Okay, now from the script,” says Icy Blues without even looking up. He ticks his head at Camera Guy. “Cross will read with you.”

  I squirm in my seat and cross my legs. I would never in a million years say any of these things on an actual date. Steeling my nerves, I begin, returning my gaze to Camera Guy—or Cross. “My last boyfriend was a terrible kisser. How would you describe your kissing style—an excited Golden Retriever, a cold trout or a sneaky boa?” I try not to cringe as I finish spouting out the terribly cheesy line. Who writes this stuff?

  A laugh tumbles from Cross’s lips as he scans the page he’s holding. The casting director shoots him a glare and he clears his throat, his lips thinning. “Definitely a boa, baby. I’d wrap you in my arms and never let go. Then when you’d least expect it, I’d snake my tongue between your lips and slither around until your toes curl.”

  A peal of laughter explodes from my clenched teeth, and all eyes whip toward me. I quickly clap my hand over my mouth, but it’s no use, I can’t stop laughing. After the intensely building tension, I think I’m actually losing it. Plus that is the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard in my life.

  Cross starts to chuckle, and even the AP and Icy Blue crack smiles.

  “Do guys really say this stuff?” I can’t help it; the words just pop out of my mouth. “I thought this was supposed to be reality television.”

  “Only d-bags,” says Cross, earning a pointed glare from the AP. He shrugs and drops the sheet of paper on the desk. “What? It’s true. Whoever writes this stuff needs to get out more.”

  Tycen’s light brows draw together, fixing on Cross. “It’s a good thing we don’t pay you for your editorial critique.” He glances expectantly at the script thrown on the desk.

  Cross grunts and picks it up again, flipping through a few pages, then turns to Icy Blue. “Where do you want me to start, Cullen?”

  Yes—that’s it! The casting director’s name is Cullen Andrews. Gianfranco didn’t know much about him.

  “Page four, second line.”

  I quickly flip through the pages in my head, hoping I remember my lines.

  Cross clears his throat, and his warm hazel eyes meet mine. “I’m taking you out tonight, babe, and I really want to get to know you better. What would I have to do to seal the deal?”

  His lip lifts in the corner, but I push down the bout of laughter threatening to bubble out and concentrate on the top of his head. The words flow smoothly for once. “A candlelight dinner on the beach followed by a moonlit walk along the sandy shore would do it for me, baby. I don’t have a problem with sand in my pa—hair.” Then I wink, and I’m sure I look
ridiculous, but that’s what the stage directions call for.

  The associate producer lifts his hand, silencing Cross who’s about to read the next line. Tycen’s gaze rakes over me, like he’s really looking at me for the first time since I sat down. “That’s it for now. We’ll be in touch.”

  That’s it? There are at least another two pages to get through. I try to mask the swell of disappointment and give him a smile as I reach for my purse on the floor.

  “Oh, do you have a headshot with you?” asks Cullen, taking a step toward me.

  No! Who uses those anymore? Gianfranco told me everything was digital now a days. I quickly scramble through my tote bag, praying I have an old copy printed. My fingers close on a folded sheet of glossy paper, and I yank it out. It’s crumpled, and there are coffee stains on the corner of the black and white photo. Dang it.

  “That’ll do,” he says as he snatches it from my hand, his lips curling in disgust when they land on the brown stains.

  My cheeks flush with embarrassment, and I swing my hair forward trying to hide behind the blonde curtain. Refusing to look up, I spin toward the door without even a goodbye.

  Way to go, Kimmie.

  I rush down the grimy stairs with my head down, pressing the script into my chest as tears prick my eyes. I need to be anywhere but here right now. How could I have ever thought I could make it in Los Angeles as an actress? I’m absolutely hopeless. Turning the corner, I nearly smack into a leggy blonde. I let out a yip of surprise, and the sheets of paper scatter all over the floor.

  “Watch it!” The girl sneers at me as I crouch down to pick up the scattered pages, embarrassment squeezing my lungs. From the corner of my eye, I watch her saunter up the stairs, her red-soled Jimmy Choo’s igniting another round of self-pity in my chest.

  Maybe I should just give up now. With a huff, I shove the script into my tote bag and straighten, trying to gather the little dignity I have left. Heavier footsteps slap the concrete stairs above, and I race down the stairwell, hoping to avoid any further embarrassment.