A Monster’s Birth
Aris Crow Vampire Legend
Rachel McClellan
A Hero's Death:
Aris Crow Vampire Legend
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A novel by Rachel McClellan
www.RachelMcClellan.com
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This is a work of fiction. Names characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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This book may not be reproduced in whole or part, by mimeograph or any other means, without the permission of the Publisher. Making or distributing electronic copies of this book constitutes copyright infringement and could subject the infringer to criminal and civil liability.
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Cover design by Desiree DeOrto
Printed in the United States of America
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Copyright © 2014 by Rachel McClellan
All rights reserved
Created with Vellum
Contents
Other books by Rachel McClellan:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Afterword
About the Author
Other books by Rachel McClellan:
Fractured Light (book one)
Fractured Light (book one)
Fractured Soul (book two)
Fractured Truth (book three)
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The Devil’s Fool (Devil Series #1)
The Devil’s Angel (Devil Series #2)
The Devil's Soldier (Devil Series #3)
The Devil (Devil Series #4)
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Escape to Eden (Original Series #1)
Escape from Eden (Original Series #2)
Saving Eden (Original Series #3)
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A Hero’s Death: Aris Crow Vampire Legend #1
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Unleashed – A New Adult Jekyll and Hyde Novel
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Confessions of a Cereal Mother
“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”
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~ Friedrich Nietzsche
1
I caught the blade in my hand. Its sharp edge dug into my palm, but I held it firm.
"Do something, Aris!" Samira growled, her white fangs flashing in the moonlight. She pressed harder onto the sword nearly cutting through my hand.
I hated these training sessions. This one, for some reason, was far more intense than any of our others.
"I'm starving!" I growled right back. It had been eleven days since I was given blood and no one, including Roman, would tell me why. I'd found that being cryptic was a common trait of the Ames de la Terre.
She kicked at my chest, her long black ponytail whipping through the darkness. I fell to the ground, nursing my bloodied hand.
"I need some damn blood!" I shouted. I don't get how they expected me to fight a centuries-old vampire when I was hungry.
Blood had been the only thing on my mind for the last five days. The sweet taste of the crimson liquid as it coated my tongue and poured down my throat, filling me with incredible warmth. Without it, I was left cold with a continuous gnawing in my gut as if a rat was eating me from the inside out.
"Just a little," I said, my voice softer. "Please."
Samira reached up and removed her glasses, muttering under her breath a language I'd never heard. She folded them and placed them on a windowsill. Shit. I'd pissed her off.
"Since I met you six months, four days, and seven hours ago, I've had to tell you three times not to yell at me. Have you already forgotten what I did to you the other three times?"
I pulled myself onto all fours, my head down. This was really going to suck, especially since I was so hungry. I thought about not fighting back, but I had already tried that once and had my ass kicked.
I looked up at her. "Anyway, I can beg for your forgiveness?"
"If you can say sorry before I reach you, then I'll consider it."
"I'm—"
Her knee slammed into my jaw, flipping me several feet into the air. I twisted my body so I could land on my feet. I ducked when she swung and spun away. I had to focus if I stood a chance. I couldn't think about things that usually plagued my mind since leaving Coast City, like how desperate I was to return so I could kill Victor for having my aunt murdered in front of me. But no one would let me leave. Not until they felt I was ready and no longer a threat to the outside world. So this is me, jumping through their hoops.
Samira darted for me, faster than any human eye could track, but I moved away just as quick and grabbed hold of her in passing. I tossed her into the old stone wall of Autry Manor, a partially ruined structure on the west side of Bisou Islands. It was the perfect place to train: dirt floors, open spaces mixed in with maze-like corridors, and only the night sky as our roof.
She grunted and fell to the ground. It was my turn to rush her, but when I reached where she had been lying on the floor, she was gone. I turned around just as her foot smashed into my face. I stumbled back, reaching for the scimitar blade in the sheath around my waist. As soon as I removed it, my blade collided with hers.
Around the great hall, we danced, lunging, spinning and leaping, metal clashing together the only sounds in the night. And yet, with all this movement, our footsteps would never be heard. That was not in a vampire's nature. We were a strong wind breathing across the land, ghosts cutting through shadows. Only the clanking of our blades gave us away.
The full moon tracked across the night sky and still we fought. I wasn't given a moment to rest or to allow my wounds to heal before Samira was landing her next blow. I was so focused on trying not to die by her hand that I had forgotten about everything else, even my hunger.
Being the oldest, living vampire I had ever heard of, Samira knew everything there was about vampirism. Same with elemental magic. I’d seen her use all four elements expertly, but it was rare. She preferred to be as she was. “A tiger should not pretend to be a dog,” she’d said once when I’d asked her why she didn’t use magic more. I admit I didn’t understand the analogy, but in a way, I respected her for being true to herself.
“It is enough,” she said, stopping her sword from crashing against mine again.
And just like that our fight was over.
I dropped to my knees sucking in air. My legs felt like the bones had melted inside them, but I refused to sink even further into the earth. I attempted to swallow, but my throat was too dry, re
minding me again of how hungry I was. The empty pain filling my gut had spread to the rest of my body, and I flexed my muscles at the sensation.
“May I please have a drink now?”
She regarded me steadily. “You may.”
I looked up at her hopefully. I expected her to walk away to retrieve a blood bag, the only thing I was given since turning into a vampire, but instead she nodded her head toward the darkness. I followed her gaze. Shadows hiding inside stepped forward.
Two vampires each held the hand of a small child with short dark hair. He had big brown eyes and thin lips with an upturned nose. He couldn’t have been more than eight years old.
My stomach lurched at the sight of him, in a good way. I glanced back at Samira, panicked. “What is this?”
“You said you were thirsty. Drink.”
“From a child?” I cried, appalled.
I looked back at him. There was no fear in his eyes, only a blank expression, and I suspected he had been compelled, a power I was still learning. As the boy drew closer, the smell of his perfect and pure blood reached my senses, and my whole body began to tingle with anticipation. Children were the worst to be around. Their blood had yet to become polluted by fats and sodium. I’d heard young blood was like drinking whole milk compared to skim. By the difference in the sweet smell, I’d say the comparison was accurate.
My nails dug into the earth. “Get him away from me.”
“Is that what you really want, Aris?” Samira asked. “Look at that child’s vein. Do you not see how it pulses for you?”
My head snapped back to the boy, my gaze focusing on his neck. I crawled over to him slowly, unable to stop myself. His scent was intoxicating and grew stronger until I could practically taste it on the back of my tongue.
I stared at that vein pulsing strongly, wondering what it would feel like to sink my teeth into his pink flesh. My fangs grew in my mouth at the thought. I moved closer, my breathing quickening. My hands came up and grabbed his arms, more for support than anything else. The pain in my stomach had reached a whole new level. I would welcome a blade to my gut over this sharp sensation.
My face inched toward him until my fangs grazed his skin. He jumped and yelped at the same time. I flinched, and for the first time, gazed into his dark eyes. The image reflecting in the glossy surface was enough to make me forget my hunger. I hissed and leaped backward. "Get him away from me!”
I lowered my head to the ground concentrating hard on ignoring his scent that hung stubbornly in the air.
“Arrrghh!” I yelled and pounded the earth. I was angered by how close I had come to tasting him. Had I not seen my true self in his gaze, my predatory eyes and extended fangs, I feared at what might have happened.
It was at that moment I had finally realized the truth—I had become a monster.
2
“Take the child away,” Samira ordered.
The vampires did as she asked and only when I could no longer smell the boy did I sit back on my knees and inhale the crisp air. Hunger pains still burned inside me, but they had been tempered.
Samira looked down at me. "The pain you feel right now should be the worst it will ever get. You could go a month without eating and experience no further side effects. You have passed my second test."
"What was the first?"
"You survived a fight with me." She circled me with the quiet grace of a deadly panther.
“What happens if I pass all of them this time?” She was always testing me for something. The sessions could sometimes last for hours. The reward? A hot bath, if I was lucky.
She stopped moving and cast her eyes downward. “You return to Coast City.”
I jumped to my feet, my pulse racing. “Are you serious? You think I'm ready?”
“It does not matter what I think. The blood in you is pure and strong and comes from a powerful vampire, Elizabeth Bathory. She was turned into a vampire by an Original, a man I pray you never meet." She paused, and I swore she shivered, the moonlight just barely catching the small vibration of her body. "I can sense Elizabeth’s strength in the way you fight. Her blood will give you much power if you can tap into it."
"Wasn't she crazy and evil?" I tempered my excitement at the thought of returning to Ironwood. To Emma. But why now?
"You only have her blood, not her mental state, thank goodness. But you will have her bloodlust if you're not careful." She stepped to the stone windowsill and picked up her glasses. She slid them back onto the slender bridge of her nose. "That woman was insane."
"You met her?"
There was a gleam in her eye, when she said, "Who do you think killed her?"
"How old are you?" I asked as I stretched my arms high into the sky. I thought about asking for blood, but knowing the pains in my gut wouldn’t worse, I figured I could wait.
"I'm old enough to know that you should never ask a lady that question." She walked to the center of the great hall, stepping over patches of grass that had been trampled down from our earlier fight. "Come back to center."
I crossed the room to stand in front of her.
"You have one more test," she said. "Hidden within these ruins are three Supernaturals. I want you to hunt them down using your sixth sense."
"I haven't had much training using elemental magic."
She tsked me. "You may be younger and more inexperienced than most vampires who attempt this, but with the powerful blood pulsing through your veins, you should not have a problem."
I glanced around the massive, ruined structure. Shadows hid in nearly every corner, moonlight only revealing so much. This would prove difficult.
Closing my eyes, I inhaled a few deep breaths to calm my mind and heart. Elemental magic required effort on both my body's most important organs.
I lowered to the ground and plunged my fingers into the cold earth, pressing inward until they were covered. I focused on my breathing: inhaling in and out feeling chilly air dry my throat. With each breath, I expanded my consciousness into the molecules of the dirt until I became connected with the earth. This was an easy task for me as I had spent two days buried during my transition. I had been given both life and death within this nutrient-rich soil.
Something unnatural disrupted the earth's flow. I snapped my head up and peered into the darkness. My night vision detected no creature, but my senses told me otherwise. I mentally pushed outward expanding my connection into the guts of the earth. She whispered back to me the location of the parasite.
I reached into my boot and withdrew a small dagger. Rising tall, I flipped my arm forward, and the blade spiraled downward through the air. It drove into the earth and pierced someone who had buried themselves. The person howled and jumped from their hiding place, dirt misting the air.
"Good," Samira said. "You have found a vampire. It does not surprise me you found him first. It's easy to sense your own kind."
The smaller vampire hissed at me and ran into the night.
"Now you must find the shifter," she said.
I had only just learned about the other dark creatures of the world a few months ago. I had suspected them many times in my life, but Roman never confirmed one way or the other. Many of them, I discovered, is part of the Principes Noctis, the Rulers of the Night, a secretive order of Supernaturals controlled by a leadership of nine, the Ministry. They believed humans to be on the same level as animals and longed for a world where they ruled over the species.
The Supernaturals who weren't part of the Principes Noctis either kept to themselves or came to the Bisou Islands just outside of Rouen, Louisiana to join the Ames de la Terre, a group of Supernaturals created to combat the Principes Noctis. They hoped to rid the world of the secretive group. Humans should be protected not destroyed.
I lifted my face to the sky. Because of their distinct scent, bitter like sagebrush, shifters could often be detected in the wind, the second source of elemental magic. One shouldn't be too difficult to sniff out.
I crouched low and jump
ed high to a wall where I could feel the wind stronger. I stretched tall on the narrow perch and looked out over the ruins of Autry Manor. At one point in time, this estate must have been grand, but anything fancy about it had disappeared long ago. The place, however, still held a dark beauty to it.
I scanned its many broken walls and caved in floors. There were dozens of possible hiding places. I lifted my chin and sniffed the air. All kinds of scents accosted my nostrils. There were animals in these forests full of blood pumping through their small bodies. Part of me wanted to leap from the wall and hunt them, but then I remembered my test.
In my mind, I separated the many scents, putting them into the correct category of what was important and what wasn't. On my third inhale, I caught a faint hint of sage in the wind and jerked my head to the left where part of a roof had collapsed. It would make an excellent hiding spot.
I leaped to the ground and tracked the odor. In passing, I grabbed a rock on the side of a ledge and gripped it tightly. As soon as I was sure, I winged the rock upward. It met its mark, and a man with long dark hair dropped from the ceiling, a cut above his eye. He growled, and his eyes flashed yellow. He was a werewolf. I nodded my head at him in acknowledgment, but he flipped me the bird and walked away.
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