by E. J. King
“What’s up, Owen?” I tried to keep my voice as normal as possible.
“Yeah, I was just seeing if you could come in a little early tonight. I need some help putting away today’s delivery.”
“I’m actually on my way in right now. Be there in five minutes.”
As I got closer to the bar, I started to feel like I wasn’t alone. I picked up my pace, nervously glancing over my shoulder every few steps until I reached the bar. The front door was unlocked and I let myself in. We didn’t open for business for another hour so I wasn’t surprised to find it empty.
“Owen?”
“In the back, Kaylie.”
Our storage room was dark and damp. It had no windows and only one dim bulb hung from a chain in the center of the room. The poor attempt at lighting instead had the effect of casting ominous shadows around the room.
“Owen?”
I stepped further into the room, stopping only when I heard a shuffling of feet behind me. I started to turn, just catching a sudden movement in the corner of my eye before something big and sharp collided with my head.
My head snapped and my knees buckled. I crumpled to the ground, banging my head against the cool concrete before slipping into unconsciousness.
CHAPTER SIX
Loud voices and laughter drifted through the crack of the storage room door. I tried to open my eyes, but the effort was too great. Instead, I went back under the fog of unconsciousness. This happened at least a dozen times before I was finally able to open my eyes for longer than a second.
The room was completely dark except for a sliver of light under the door. My head throbbed to the point of nearly knocking me out again and something, likely blood, kept running into my eye.
When I tried to move my hand to wipe it away, I discovered that they were bound behind me. Yelling for help was out of the question since my mouth was taped shut. I was propped against the back wall, so I leaned my head back and tried to take deep breaths through my nose. I needed to clear my head and stay calm if I was going to find a way out of this. But as my eyes adjusted to the dark, I started to feel faint.
Most likely I was suffering from a concussion, which was why my vision kept blurring. That was going to make it hard to escape if I figured out how to get away. In addition to my arms being tied behind my back, they were also bound to an old pipe running from the floor to the ceiling.
I tried jerking my arms forward, hoping that the pipe was old and rusty. But all that did was make my head spin and I passed out again. The next time I opened my eyes, the bar was quiet. That meant I had been tied up in this room for hours.
Distant voices started getting louder as they approached the room. I could detect two distinct, male voices. One of them sounded calm and collected, the other slightly hysterical. The latter voice belonged to Owen.
The door pushed open and light flooded the room, burning my eyes. I blinked rapidly as my vision adjusted and eventually saw two silhouettes in the doorway.
“Oh, good. She’s awake.”
“Hey, Kaylie.” Owen’s greeting was absurd considering the circumstances.
He switched on the overhead light and then shut the door. My eyes widened when I saw that the man with him was holding a syringe in one hand.
Owen crouched next to me, his eyes wide. Looking into them, I saw regret. He didn’t want to do whatever they had planned.
“This is my brother, Paul.”
I groaned. Just what I needed, another duo of messed-up brothers.
“I’m going to remove the tape, Kaylie, but don’t bother screaming. There’s no one around.” Owen’s fingers plucked at the edge of the tape. He got a good grip and then pulled fast.
It felt like my skin was being removed with it and I let out a startled cry. My eyes watered and I blinked hard to clear them. The burning faded and I didn’t make another noise. One time, I had accidentally locked myself in this storage room and even though I had screamed and banged on the door, I was only freed when Owen came looking for a new keg. He was right that I might as well save my breath.
“Why are you doing this, Owen?” My voice cracked.
Paul paced behind Owen, the syringe twirling in his fingers. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. From what I could tell, it was empty.
“I know all about you, Kaylie. You’re a Hunter.”
Owen looked at me for confirmation and I nodded. I couldn’t think of one reason to lie to him at this point. “I am.”
“Well, Paul got turned a few months ago.” Owen laughed dryly. “It still seems so strange saying that out loud. Vampires are real? Crazy. But, it’s true. He was killed with their blood in his system so he became one of them, but he never fed.”
I gasped; Paul was one of them.
“You’re a Lost Soul,” I said, feeling a twinge of sympathy that was unwarranted given the circumstances.
“You know about us?” Paul finally looked at me, familiar gold eyes flashing.
I shrugged. “Apparently you are super trendy these days.”
“Is she always like this?” Paul asked Owen.
“Do you mind telling me what you have planned for me? I’d like to know how you plan to kill me.” Really, I just wanted to keep them talking until I figured out how I was going to get out of this.
“Your blood is the key.” Paul crouched on the other side of me. He wiped a finger over my cut which was still bleeding. Holding up his blood-covered finger, he looked at it with intense interest. “No one knows why, but your blood is special.”
“It can fix you,” I said, finally understanding that Paul believed the same rumor that had brought Ethan and Rafe into my life. Great.
“That’s how the story goes.” He held up the syringe. “Some people say that you have to be drained completely. That would mean I have to drink your blood.”
My head tilted. “What’s with the syringe then?”
“If they are wrong and I drink from you, I’ll turn. The transition will be complete and I’ll become a vampire.”
“The preferred nomenclature is Dark Soul,” I corrected.
“Whatever. I refuse to be one of them.” He moved quick, grabbing my arm just above the bicep. He squeezed hard, making my veins bulge. “The other part of the legend says that I can inject your blood directly into my system. I like that plan better.”
“Because if you’re wrong, you won’t transition.” I finally understood.
“Exactly. Plus there’s always the nice benefit that we won’t have to kill you.” He smiled sweetly. “You should appreciate that.”
“If it doesn’t work, you’re going to drain me, aren’t you?” It hadn’t skipped my attention that Owen had a knife shoved into his back pocket.
Owen glanced at his brother.
“Yes. And if it doesn’t cure me, Owen is going to kill me.” Paul seemed proud of how thoroughly they had planned the whole thing.
“It’s not going to come to that, Kaylie. This is going to work.” Owen sounded so earnest that I knew he wanted that to be the truth.
Paul was done talking. He jabbed the needle into my vein and drew out blood until it was full. The tiny prick of the needle had barely registered with me. I was too busy staring at the blood wondering what made it different from all of the other human blood. Why was my blood special?
“Good luck,” I said, somewhat sarcastically.
He took a deep breath to steady his hand and then he injected the blood into his arm. I was amazed at how precisely he had been able to complete the transaction.
For at least a minute, nothing happened. Paul sat back against the wall next to me, waiting to feel different. Just when I was beginning to think it hadn’t worked, he screamed and doubled over.
“Paul!”
Owen rushed to his side. The knife fell from his pocket, but neither of them noticed. I inched my arms over, straining against the ropes until my fingers touched the blade. Very slowly, I pulled it closer until I could hold it in my fist.
Paul continued to writhe
and jerk. Owen tried to hold him, but there was nothing he could do to help his brother.
I got the blade into position and was able to saw through the rope. It took less than ten seconds for me to get free, but by then Owen had made a decision.
“You need to drink, Paul. It’s your only chance.” He lifted Paul into a sitting position and reached for me, but I slid away, brandishing the knife.
“Stay back, Owen. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I can’t let my brother die, Kaylie. You understand that, don’t you?”
I kept creeping backward until I ran into another wall. “You’re not a killer, Owen.”
“I don’t have a choice.” Owen reached behind his back and his hand returned holding a gun. I hadn’t planned on that.
“Shit.”
Something thudded loudly against the door and we all turned to look. Realizing that this was my chance, I dove at Owen. The momentum of my body knocked us both to the ground. I hit my head again, causing searing pain and flashing lights. A loud crash told me that whomever had been trying to get in had managed to kick in the door.
My vision cleared just enough for me to see Owen standing over me, pointing the gun at my head. Paul was still on the floor, struggling to get to his knees.
“Owen, please.”
“Put the gun down.” Rafe sounded annoyed.
I felt a small rush of relief knowing that I wasn’t alone anymore. Then I turned back to Owen. “If you shoot me, Paul’s not going to get my blood. I’ll bleed out and he won’t be cured.”
“Stop! Just stop talking!” Owen put a hand to his head, uncertainty getting the better of him. It was a big mistake.
Rafe flew across the room and tackled Owen, sending the gun skittering to a stop at my feet. Ethan charged into the room and grabbed Paul. I scooped up the gun. By the time I got it pointed at Owen, Rafe had already dealt him a blow that knocked him out cold.
Paul was gasping for breath, blood pouring from his eyes and mouth. It was horrifying to see, but I crawled over to him.
“It’s going to be okay,” I said, taking his hand. He was too weak to try anything, and I didn’t want him to die alone.
It took another five minutes for Paul to suck in his last breath. It had been a painful death, terrifying to watch. Ethan and Rafe had backed to the other end of the room. I couldn’t imagine what they were thinking, knowing that Rafe might face the same destiny.
“We should go,” Ethan said when it was over.
“What about him?” I asked looking at Owen, who was still out cold.
“I don’t think he’ll be bothering you again. He wanted your blood to save his brother. Now that he’s dead, it’s a moot point.”
I looked at both of them, wondering if they saw the parallel with their own circumstances. Would Ethan be willing to kill me to save Rafe?
“Kaylie, come with us. We’re not going to hurt you.” Rafe walked over and held out his hand, imploring me with a look that sent a chill down my spine.
I had no reason in the world to trust him. But last night I had fallen asleep next to him, completely vulnerable, and he hadn’t harmed me. It would’ve been so easy for him to do it, but he had resisted. Rafe had done nothing but protect me, and I was going to need as much protection as I could get.
“Okay,” I said, putting my hand in his and letting him help me to my feet. “Let’s go home.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
A couple days later, life had almost gone back to normal. Rafe and Ethan insisted on staying with me that first night, claiming that I probably had a concussion and they had to make sure I didn’t slip into a coma and die. I protested, but let them win because I really didn’t want to be alone. This time, I slept in my own bed- alone.
But with the dawn of a new day came the return of my old life. While I was in the shower, Ethan left a note on the kitchen table saying that they had gone back to the motel and ordering me to take it easy for a few days. They would be in touch when it was time to start training again.
After three days, I still hadn’t heard from either of them. The bar was closed due to the dead guy found in the storage room. An anonymous caller informed the police of a disturbance at the Lucky Lady and Owen was gone by the time they showed up. No one had seen him since.
It was the weekend, so without work and classes to keep me busy, I started to feel restless. The most exciting thing going on in my life was the new neighbors that were moving in upstairs. I woke up Sunday morning to loud thuds above my bed. I spent the morning trying to block out the noise, but by lunch time I couldn’t take it anymore.
I opened the front door and stepped out on the porch to see how much stuff they still had to move in. Surprisingly, I didn’t see a single truck or moving van. In fact, the only vehicle in the driveway was Rafe’s car.
“Hey, neighbor.” Ethan stepped out from the door that led upstairs.
“I’m sorry, what?”
He laughed. “The motel was getting crowded. It was also starting to smell.”
“So you decided to move in upstairs?”
“The price was right. Good location. We already know the area. Plus there’s a hot girl that lives downstairs.” Ethan winked at me. “Come up and check it out.”
I followed him upstairs, still reeling from the news.
“Rafe took the room above yours so I apologize in advance for the loud sex that is going to keep you up at night.” He didn’t laugh, so he was likely being serious.
“Swell.”
Their apartment was identical to mine- same layout, carpeting, and worn furniture. The only apparent difference was the stack of weapons and exercise equipment in their living room.
“Ethan. Where the hell did you put the-” Rafe pulled up short when he saw me standing in the middle of their apartment. “Kaylie.”
“Rafe.”
He stared at me just a little too long. “Did you bring us a welcome-to-the-neighborhood casserole?”
“Funny.” I pointed to the free weights scattered around the floor. “I take it we won’t be going to the gym for training?”
“Where do you think we got all of this?” Ethan grinned.
Rafe started down the hall. “Make yourself comfortable.”
I looked around for a comfortable place to sit, but considering that the couch was currently holding a punching bag, I chose to perch on its arm.
“Tell the truth- you’re super excited about this, aren’t you?” Ethan couldn’t keep the laughter from his eyes.
“Thrilled.”
Rafe returned with a six-pack. “Beer?”
I took one, trying to pretend like it wasn’t strange to sit in their apartment drinking beer like we were old friends.
“I guess this means you guys are planning to stay in town for a while.” It certainly didn’t look like they were just planning to stay for a few days.
“Paul won’t be the last Lost Soul that comes looking for you.” Rafe sipped his beer, his gold eyes carefully watching my face for a reaction.
Ethan was determined to keep the mood from getting too serious. “You clearly need us to protect you. Look what almost happened when you tried to do it on your own.”
“Um, I’m pretty sure I already had things under control by the time you jerks finally decided to show up.”
“You were bleeding all over the place and couldn’t see straight,” Ethan reminded me. “Do you really call that ‘having things under control’?”
“I think we’ll just have to agree to disagree.” I allowed a small smile. “You do have impeccable timing.”
“Just one of the many great things about me.” Ethan glanced at Rafe. “What’s wrong with you?”
He shrugged. “If you don’t have anything nice to say…”
“Well, as fun as this has been, I need to return to my apartment.”
“Studying?” Ethan said, sounding very judgmental.
“Research.” I nodded toward Rafe. “We’re still trying to save him, right?”
“Absolutely.”
I set the empty beer bottle on the coffee table. “When you’re done up here, feel free to join me.”
For the next four hours, we poured over my family’s Hunter library. Not only did they chronicle the Souls, they also detailed information on other monsters and paranormal creatures. Aside from vampires, my ancestors had also hunted shifters, demons, zombies, witches, and fairies. My parents had focused only on the blood suckers, so the rest of the information was all new and fascinating.
“I fought a shifter once,” Ethan said when I mentioned that I had never seen one. “They are super-fast and very hairy. Bad breath, too.”
“Wait, are we talking about shifters or your ideal woman?” I teased.
It was a pretty good dig and I expected a laugh from Rafe, but he was focused on his research. I looked closer to see what had captivated him so completely.
“Is that my family’s picture?” It was the same photo that we had found in one of the books a few days ago.
“This is your older brother, right? Lincoln?” He held up the picture, tapping his finger over Lincoln’s face.
I nodded, confused. “Yes. Why?”
“I thought he looked familiar, but that seemed impossible. But now that I’ve looked at it closely, I’m certain that I’ve met him.” Rafe’s eyes narrowed as he continued to study the picture.
“How do you remember that? It has to have been at least two years since you would’ve crossed paths.” Never mind the fact that Rafe and Ethan had been living in different parts of the country than us.
“That’s the weird thing.” Rafe looked over at me, his face twisted in confusion. “It happened just a few weeks ago.”
I slammed shut the book I was holding in my lap and jumped to my feet. “That’s impossible.”
“Maybe it is, but it’s also true.” Rafe climbed to his feet and came over to me, putting his hands on my shoulders and looking deep into my eyes, all the way to my soul. “Lincoln is still alive, Kaylie.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
One of my first memories ever centers on my brother, Lincoln. I was three at the time, and he was a mature, wise seven-year-old. We had just moved into a new house, the fourth one of my short life and our parents agreed to let us explore the backyard. Lincoln found the tallest tree and proceeded to climb as high as possible.