Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  I open the door to the other room and find that Jude has set up the desk chair at the window and is looking out from behind the curtains to the scene below.

  "Graeme chose the worst possible room for seeing if there are any enemies heading your way," he comments.

  "I doubt he had a choice."

  "Yeah, well, he should really consider that. He's going to get himself killed for his ignorance."

  "You know, most people would have turned on the TV and watched Adult Swim or something."

  He glances up at me. "You should know by now that I'm not most people." He turns back to the window and lifts the curtain slightly. "Or most vampires, for that matter."

  My heart flutters at that. Because I agree.

  "How's the wound?" Jude asks after a moment.

  "Better," I say truthfully. Although I'm thinking of a lot of other things at the moment. "Can I ask you something? What would you do if you were me?" I ask through dry lips.

  "What do you mean?"

  I sit on the edge of bed closest to him. "Up until now, I could have been considered foolish for putting my trust into a vampire without a past or affiliations. Or so he says."

  He lets go of the curtain and looks back at me. "You don't believe that I am who I say I am?"

  I let out a breath and plow a hand through my hair. "I didn’t. For about three hours there, I didn’t believe you. Then…"

  His gaze is intense and his jaw is working intently.

  “Then you saved my life,” I whisper. “You rushed into a burning building for me.”

  He chuckles. “I would’ve preferred if it wasn’t burning.”

  "You don't even know if your name is really Jude.” I hesitate, because the words are searing my throat. “How can I trust someone who doesn’t know who he really is?”

  He sits back and crosses his arms, those chained arms rippling. "For all intents and purposes, I am Jude," he says. "I'm not anything more or anything less. Whatever happened before…that's another time and doesn't matter."

  "It does matter!" I gulp nervously. "That vampire in Zhi's basement recognized you. She said that you know Anthony. I mean, what am I supposed to think about that?"

  "Trust me, Harker, I'm trying to help you."

  I search his face, feeling my resolve weaken. "Maybe you are. Or maybe you're some sort of sleeper agent, where they say a magic word and you suddenly remember that you're Anthony's little lapdog sent here to keep an eye on his magic potion blood bag?"

  Something flickers on Jude's face, something unreadable. "Even if I was some sort of 'sleeper agent', trust me when I say that I want to help you."

  "Why?"

  "Why what?"

  "Why are you helping me?" I demand. "No one does something to the extent that you do—if you really are who you say you are—without expecting something in return. It's almost like…"

  My words die in my throat as it hits me. I feel so stupid for not coming to this conclusion sooner. I blink at him, once, twice, and then sit back on the bed.

  "Almost like what?" he asks, his voice rough.

  God, I'm so dense. How the hell have I not seen this before? After five months, I should have realized it. I've joked about it, Carl made fun about it, but I never thought for even a second that it could be true. Because he's a vampire and I'm the Harker.

  "You like me," I breathe. "Don't you?"

  His face melts, first into confusion, then momentarily into despair. I rarely see vampires blush, but his cheeks go red as a beet. He scoots the desk chair closer to me. He refuses to meet my eyes, yet tension is rolling off him in waves.

  Holy shit. He likes me. Not as a hunter or anything related in a professional respect. He likes me in a let's-go-on-date sort of way, echoing the feelings that I’ve been dealing with myself for five months.

  "That's why you've been helping me," I say. I reach out towards him. "That's why you protect me and help me. That's why you went into a burning building to save me." I gulp down some air. "You actually like me."

  He doesn't say anything. In fact, now that it's out in the open, it's infuriating that he's neither denying nor confirming it.

  "Am I right?" God, I wish my heart would stop pounding, it's making my side ache. "Do you like me, Jude?"

  He doesn't say anything.

  My own cheeks are flushed now.

  "Say something, dammit."

  Faster than lightning, his lips connect with mine. He moves so quickly, I don't see him coming. His lips crash against mine, his metal lip rings a stark contrast to the softness of his mouth. His strong arms encircle me, pulling me to his powerful chest while being considerate of my left side. I don't have time to protest before his tongue sweeps my mouth. He's searching for something. Was it reciprocity?

  OhmyGod. OhmyGod. Oh. My. God!

  I don't even have time to close my eyes and relish the kiss before he breaks it and touches his forehead to mine.

  "Yes," he whispers, his voice husky with unexpected emotion. "Yes I do. Not just ‘like’, but…” The implication in his voice makes my heart flutter. “I could never betray you."

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  He sits back. "Because I was afraid that you wouldn't feel that way. I was afraid of this."

  I shake my head. "I don't know what 'this' is," I say, gesturing between us.

  He nods sadly. "That's what I was afraid of, Edie.”

  My name sounds so sexual when he says it that way. I can see why he always insists on calling me "Harker". He says my first name like he's cradling some sort of priceless treasure. Maybe I would have come to that conclusion earlier if he called me "Edie" more often. I want him to say it more.

  "So what do we do now?" I ask.

  "We don't do anything different," Jude says. I detect a hint of bitterness in his voice, though it’s not directed at me. It’s directed at the situation, at everything other than me. I know, because I feel the same way.

  His gaze flicks to the alarm clock and my heart sinks. "I should…I should be getting back to my place. Sunrise isn't long from now.” He looks at me one last time, sits straighter and nods. "I'll see you tomorrow."

  Then he's gone, the only evidence that he was ever there the creaking of the room's door and my tingling lips. He's gone, moving in that crazy vampire speed of his, leaving me to sort out what the hell to do now.

  The feel of his kiss is embedded is my mind, the phantom weight of his body against mine a memory.

  "Godammit, Jude," I say, angry that he left me, angry that the butterflies in my stomach aren’t going away.

  Angry that Fate is fucking with me.

  I have a vampire in love with me.

  What’s worse, I’m in love with him too.

  25

  Jude

  I kissed Edie fucking Harker.

  It feels like it should be one of those “I shouldn’t have done that” things, but holy hell if it didn’t feel like everything I’d imagined it would be and more. I can still feel the press of her lips, her breath on my skin, the way she tasted.

  It was heaven wrapped up in the sweet, conflicted, punk bundle that is Edie. She’s a contradiction in and of herself, so it shouldn’t surprise me that the way I feel for her is a contradiction as well.

  A vampire and the Harker. Two things that shouldn’t work together, but they do. Our bodies sing to each other like some sort of duet.

  I wonder how many other vampires have kissed a Harker in the past. I wonder how many of them lived afterward. And yet, at the same time, it doesn’t fucking matter, because they weren’t me kissing Edie fucking Harker.

  Right now, all of what I’m concerned about is what happens next in my story.

  There’s an out for her. A possibility that she can be cured, one that wasn’t there before. If I have to put my life on the line for hers, so be it.

  She’s worth it.

  26

  Edie

  I stay up long enough for Graeme to return. He looks absolutely wretched, which
is understandable considering everything that he has gone through tonight. He comes in to check on me before stumbling over to his room. We leave the adjoining doors cracked in the unlikely event that something happens.

  Hopefully unlikely. I doubt that I'll get any sleep.

  I lay down to sleep on my right side. Purl takes up residence with me now, sensing that I’m in pain. I appreciate her weight at the foot of the bed, a familiar, welcoming presence. She was my mother’s cat and has been around for a long time. I don’t know what I’d do without her critical glances at me. Even though I’m exhausted, my thoughts wander. Sometimes that’s a bad thing.

  I think back to Mike, my on-again-off-again boyfriend. My mind insistently compares Jude to him. Mike was fun and predictable and safe. I had no trouble messing around with him because I think a part of me always knew that it wasn't forever with him.

  Jude’s complicated, multi-layered, unattainable, and an impossibility. It’s foolish to think that there could ever be anything between us.

  And yet he feels oh so right.

  Vampires and vampire hunters are not supposed to have any feelings like this. However, remembering his lips on mine, his tongue forcing my mouth open, even how gently he carried me up to the hotel, I know that there has never been any contest of who loved me more.

  This was a scary, exciting first step in a burgeoning relationship.

  I think back to Zhi and Maria and wonder what that display of affection of theirs truly was. Are they in a relationship or is that something else?

  I press a palm to my eyes, rubbing them. It's almost four in the morning, and I really need to sleep somehow.

  Tomorrow's a new day.

  I'll figure out everything tomorrow. I need to rest, otherwise my body isn't going to heal from today's events.

  I fluff up my pillow again, nestle up against the edge of the bed, facing towards the door in case something were to burst in after me.

  The temperature drops suddenly. Has the air conditioner gone haywire? I feel the feathery light touch of a hand caressing my back. My throat constricts and I stifle a sob. My mother used to do this to me to help me sleep.

  It's her now.

  I fight the urge to look back behind me to make sure. I don't want to scare her away. Purl’s purring grows even louder with her presence.

  I close my eyes and relish the touch. Strangely enough, it does calm me down, and I find myself on the edge of sleep, my mother's soft voice in my ear.

  "Shhhh…It's going to be all right, baby."

  A tear slides down my cheek.

  I miss you, Mom.

  My phone wakes me up the next morning with The Clash singing my ringtone. My hand snakes across the bed to grab it and I bring it to my ear.

  "Hello?"

  "Are you okay?" It's Carl and he sounds worried.

  I groan and roll onto my side. "Ugh, why did you call me so early?"

  "Early?” There's a long pause on his end. “Edie, it's two o'clock."

  "AM or PM?" I roll onto my back, my left side aching. Awoken by the sudden movement, Purl gets up with a hiss and jumps off the bed.

  I glance at the digital alarm clock by the side of the bed. "PM," I confirm with a sigh. "What day is it?" I add with a chortle.

  I obviously needed the sleep. Even now, I still feel like I could crawl into a hole with a bear and hibernate for an entire season. I'm bone weary, exhausted, and my side aches.

  "So no more vampires hunting you?" Carl asks, relieved. "I was about ready to drive up to the Ramada Inn and bust down the door."

  I rub my eyes with my free hand, noticing that everything is stiff on my left side and that it aches a bit, however there is no sharp pain. "None that I know of."

  "Well, our friend Zhi called me this morning. Dunno how he got my number, but—"

  "Zhi?" I sit up instantly in bed. "What did he want?"

  "He's on his way up here. Says there's some big news he needs to share with us. He's coming to my house."

  He's coming here? Immediately I sense that something feels off, something that I need to be a part of.

  "Fuck. How far out is he? Why the hell haven't you called me earlier?"

  Carl snickers. "I thought for sure you would have called when you woke up."

  "How long ago did he call?"

  "About thirty minutes ago. You're fine."

  I do the math in my head and stifle a groan. "All right, I'm on my way." I pause, considering that I'll be leaving Graeme and Amelia alone and I don’t want to risk it. "Do you think that I can bring Graeme and Amelia over?"

  Carl gets what I mean without me having to say it. "Lemme see." I hear a muffled conversation between him and his mother, then he comes back onto the line. "Yeah, bring them," Carl says. "Mom will make up the guest room for them."

  I close my eyes and nod gratefully, even though he can't see it. "Okay. See you at three."

  "See you," he says. "And, Cuz?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I'm glad you're safe."

  He hangs up without another word, and I collapse back in bed for a moment to muster up the strength to get going.

  What little sleep I got last night was blissfully void of any nightmares or dreams. I'm glad that I didn't have any sort of demon trying to claw its way through my subconscious and remind me of what happened.

  "I blew up the house," I say, recalling that particular event. "Fuck."

  Nothing like the realization that you're the reason why your family doesn't have a home to start your day. My hands find my wound and gently press against it. It doesn't feel like my body is being torn apart, so I guess that's a plus. I do wonder if, because I’m sick, my healing abilities will start to slow down.

  I hate to think of that though. I need to heal faster…

  I check my phone again to see that there isn’t anything from Jude. I feel a bit disappointed at that; I’d been hoping for something else from him, although I’m not sure what.

  I need some time to myself where I can digest this, maybe talk to him, and figure out where to go from here. Because I certainly don't know.

  For now, though, I need to deal with the task at hand. I need to get up and see how Graeme and Amelia are doing.

  I'm dreading it.

  I slide off the bed and pad over to the doors that link our two rooms. I gingerly open them to see Graeme and Amelia sitting on one of the beds with some coloring books. The bed they're on is still made, while the other one is rumpled. Graeme apparently shared the bed with Amelia last night, which makes me feel proud that he’s my brother-in-law. I certainly don't want to let the three-year-old out of my sight; I can't imagine how protective he feels.

  "Aunt Edie!"

  Still dressed in her PJs, Amelia runs over to me and throws her arms around me. I hug her back, glad that they're all right. "Hey, Squirt, how are you?"

  "Fine."

  Graeme stands up from the bed, jostling Purl again, who had taken up residence on the bed sometime during the night. His face is pallid with dark bags hanging underneath each eye, and his hair is messy, which isn't like him. He hasn't slept at all. Then I remember that it's Monday and that Graeme hasn't gone into work.

  "Didn't sleep?" I ask.

  He shakes his head with a short laugh. "Hell no. And don't repeat that, Amelia."

  Amelia's mouth is wide at her father's slip up. I really have to watch myself around her; she soaks up everything like a sponge.

  "I'm heading over to Carl's and Tessa's. On business. You guys can stay there tonight. It's safe."

  Graeme blinks and lets out a breath. "Yes," he agrees. "That would be good. I'd feel safer there."

  "Go ahead and get packed," I say, although I look around and realize with a sinking feeling that they don't have much.

  Graeme bends to scoop the crayons on the bed into Amelia's backpack. Meanwhile, she is looking up at me, wide-eyed. "I wanna go to McDonald's," she proclaims loudly.

  "Amelia," Graeme warns as he stuffs a blanket into a duffle bag.
"I don't think—"

  I give her a hug and grin widely at her. "You want to go to McDonald's? I think you should."

  She squeals and hugs me tighter. I grunt due to that added pressure against my side, but I don't want to let her go. She doesn't notice, and instead asks, "Can we? Can we?"

  I catch Graeme's panicked look. "It is daytime after all," I remind him.

  Granted, there are still dangers in the daytime, though I doubt they have anything to worry about. It's me they're after, so as long as they're always in public places that have nothing to do with vampires, I am one hundred percent confident that they'll be all right.

  I'll watch them to make sure that they are. I have about 50 minutes until we need to be at Carl's, and they can wait if I'm late. I'm not the end-all-be-all in this. Someone else can take the reins.

  Graeme visibly relaxes. "Okay," he acquiesces.

  "Now?" Amelia presses with a big grin.

  I press my forehead to hers, looking deep into her eyes. "Now."

  Luckily, there's a McDonald's a stone's throw from the Ramada Inn. It means that in thirty minutes, we can check out of the hotel, I can spend some time with Graeme and Amelia, she can get a little bit of playtime in, and I can head over to Carl's and none will be the wiser.

  Maybe I'm being overprotective, more so than Graeme, but Amelia needs it. I certainly need a bit of respite.

  We head to the fast food joint, Graeme and Amelia in his Kia Soul and me in my Lancer.

  After eating her monthly dose of french fries and soda, Amelia tackles the Playland with renewed vigor while Graeme and I sit on the benches with Purl in her cat carrier. We’re slurping milkshakes while watching the three year old terrorize the other kids despite her diminutive stature. One would almost think we're a normal family.