ReAwakened

by Ada Adams

  ADA ADAMS

  To Team Misfits,

  Thank you for your unconditional support.

  “You’re mine!”

  Aurora’s sharp voice sliced through my thoughts, carving the deadly warning into my mind. She was inside my head, slithering through my dream, striving for control over my body. And she didn’t just want to hurt me—she yearned to claim me.

  She needed my life.

  Her anger billowed into hellish rage as she clawed at my mind, ripping me from the inside. Striving to escape the nightmare, I struggled against her wrath, but the harder I fought, the tighter her grasp became.

  Though she had died well over a century ago, she wasn’t truly gone. Her DNA lay embedded deep inside me, awakening something dangerous and volatile within me.

  “I’m going to destroy you,” she vowed. “And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

  “It’s a brand-new Dawn!” Brooke exclaimed, attacking my cheekbones with her blush brush. A veil of bright pink particles clouded my vision as she expertly swept the bristly instrument across my skin.

  “That’s enough,” I grumbled, stifling a cough.

  Refusing to accept defeat, Brooke advanced again, this time with a second, even brighter color. As she came in for the strike, I parried her arm and ducked out of reach with a quick bob and weave. I was well versed in defending against assailants wielding deadly swords and sharp daggers, but Brooke and her torturous cosmetic tools had me out of my element.

  She concluded her assault before I was compelled to use force, then took a step back to admire her handiwork. “You look amazing!” she squealed, sighing proudly.

  For the first time all afternoon, I was permitted to look at myself. I slowly approached the large antique mirror hanging on my bedroom wall, cringing inwardly in anticipation of seeing Brooke’s creation. As my eyes collided with my reflection, I breathed a sigh of relief. The makeup was stronger than the light swipe of mascara and the occasional dab of lip-gloss I was accustomed to, but I was pleased to still be able to recognize the pale, brown-haired, violet-eyed girl gazing back at me. Brooke had accentuated my eyes with hues of gray and charcoal, swept rosy shades across my cheeks and lips, and tamed the waves in my long hair, but I still looked like Dawn Fairchild, butt-kicking vampire.

  “Now that your makeup is perfect, it’s time for the second phase of our mission!” Brooke announced.

  I raised my eyebrows. “And what mission would that be?” She and I had very differing opinions on what constituted a mission.

  Brooke flashed a wide grin. “Mission: Prep Dawn for the Angel Creek Guardian Initiation Ceremony, of course,” she said, dragging a neon pink suitcase to the center of the room. Its contents forced the overstuffed bag to bulge out at awkward angles; how it even managed to zip up and stay closed was a big mystery.

  I groaned upon realizing that Brooke had now turned her attention to wardrobe. Her dark blue eyes lit up excitedly as she tore open the luggage and began pulling out one colorful garment after another. She held them out in front of her, carefully scrutinizing every aspect of each outfit. Shaking her head at the first few, she paused at her favorite red tube dress. She scrunched up her nose, as if contemplating if the tiny band of fabric would fit me. At five foot five, she was only two inches shorter, but since all of her clothes seemed to come in extra-extra short, my answer to her silent question was a very firm no.

  The only reason I had even agreed to “play dress-up” in the first place was to get Brooke to partake in additional combat training sessions later on this week. Fifty years of high school cheerleading had made her strong and agile, but her accuracy and weapon skills left a lot to be desired. If we were to ever actually carry out any guardianship duties, Brooke was in dire need of private lessons.

  “Just to be clear, you do know that we’re here to protect the humans in town, right?” I asked, snatching the next dress she held up. It was a simple, pleated, gray number, and it contained more fabric than most of Brooke's clothes combined. That particular feature qualified it as a winner in my eyes. “The role of guardians doesn’t require us to take part in fashion shows.”

  Brooke scowled, clearly unimpressed with my selection. “I know. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t look good doing so.”

  Her eyes widened in disbelief as I reached for my combat boots, but seeing my resolved glare, she decided against disputing my choice. Deducing that I no longer had any use for her tube dress, she disrobed and pulled the tight number over her head, tugging the short hem as far down as it would go. It barely reached mid-thigh. Satisfied with the way the fabric gripped her curves, she winked at her reflection, then ran a brush through her pin-straight, platinum blonde hair, sweeping her bangs off to the side.

  “Do you think I need more self-tanner?” she asked. I searched her face for signs of humor, but her expression was utterly sincere.

  “You’re a vampire, Brooke,” I reminded her. “Pale skin comes with the territory.”

  “So? You don’t always have to play by the rules, Dawn.”

  “I happen to like the rules.”

  Rules prevented mistakes. Rules kept people from getting hurt. If I had been following the rules, then perhaps the events of the past summer would have had a different outcome…

  “Sophie! It’s your turn!”

  Brooke’s voice snapped me out of my trance, shifting my attention to the tiny girl curled up at the foot of my bed. For the past hour and a half, Sophie had been perfectly still—so very still that she seemed to have fully assimilated into the flower-print quilt beneath her small body, becoming one with the colorful fabric. Her face was obscured by a thick novel, the only movement coming from her deep brown eyes as she hungrily devoured the story.

  “So-phie!” Brooke called out again, dividing the syllables of Sophie’s name in singsong fashion.

  Sophie peeled her eyes away from the book. Her narrow face filled with terror at the sight of the long, sharp tweezers in Brooke’s hands.

  “Come on! We’ve got a lot of work to do if you plan on impressing that geeky guy of yours.” Brooke was referring to Pete, Sophie's assistant at the Angel Creek Library. It was evident to anyone who saw them together that the clumsy, shy teen harbored a cosmic crush on Sophie, but I always felt that, though she enjoyed his friendship, Sophie had no interest in pursuing any kind of romantic relationship with him.

  At the mention of the opposite sex, Sophie’s expression grew even more fearful. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m fine. Really.”

  Brooke shook her head. “You can’t go to the ceremony looking like you just stepped out of the nineteen twenties.” She gestured at Sophie’s long skirt and high-necked blouse. “Even though you kinda did,” she added, chuckling.

  Sophie had been born in 1902 and made vampire by her best friend Charlotte in 1920. Charlotte had promised Sophie an eternity of friendship, only to desert her for a rich husband soon after. Ninety-five years had passed, but even an entire century hadn’t erased those wounds.

  “I think she looks lovely,” I said, shooting a tender smile in Sophie’s direction.

  “Fine, but I get to do at least one thing!” Brooke bartered. Without waiting for approval, she traded in the tweezers for a hairbrush and pulled Sophie’s jet-black hair into an elegant French twist. She then tried to remove Sophie’s glasses.

  “I’ll be completely blind!” Sophie protested.

  Brooke rolled her eyes. “Blind vampires,” she scoffed. “I guess we can’t all be perfect.”

  I bit my tongue, suppressing the desire to remind Brooke that she, along with the rest of the vampires I had been tasked with transforming into Angel Creek’s guardians, proved to be rather imperfect in many things. It had taken weeks of training—and even some begging and threatening�
��before I was able to get them to work together as a team. Three months later, the meager effort they’d put in to embracing their roles as guardians still left me with qualms about their ability to face possible threats.

  The Misfits—as I lovingly referred to them—had managed to come together during a crucial time and helped defeat an army of rogue vampires led by my villainous uncle, Viktor. Even so, when it came to their combat skills and guardianship capabilities, there was still much work to be done. Focusing on the training ahead of us had become my crutch in getting through the events of the past summer. I had yet to sift through the emotional rubble of their aftermath; I still couldn’t accept that they had cost me the most important person in my life—my father.

  “Are you guys excited for the ceremony or what?” Brooke asked eagerly, drawing me out of my pity party.

  “Or what,” Sophie grumbled.

  I nodded in agreement. “Or what.”

  Today Brooke, Sophie, Hunter, Seth, and I were being officially inducted as Angel Creek’s guardians. Along with the initiation ceremony, we were also the guests of honor at the town's celebratory dance. The last thing that I would have ever imagined when I accepted the mission of training the group was that part of the job would involve dancing. Alas, since much of the vampire guardianship program was a spectacle anyway, it was a small price to pay for having my own team.

  Unlike most vampires who yearned for fame and glory, all I ever wanted was an adventure. Or two. Spending the entire nineteen years of my life locked up in the Scarlet House—the vampiric partner of the White House—had infected my imagination with thoughts of the thrilling prospects waiting outside its walls. Accepting the guardianship position in Angel Creek had been the best way to soothe my desire for excitement. Or so I thought. Since setting out on the assignment, I’d learned that wishes should come with warning labels. The real world may not have been filled with exhilarating quests like those found in the pages of books and on television screens, but that didn’t prevent my life from spiraling out of control and becoming the topic of news programs and tabloid reports.

  A dead father—the beloved U.S. Vampire President.

  A daughter he’d kept closely guarded for years, now all alone.

  The articles practically wrote themselves. The fact that I was now residing in the remote town of Angel Creek, a place far removed from civilization and pop-culture, was probably my only saving grace in keeping the vultures at the networks from approaching me with sappy reality show proposals. After all, everyone was thirsting for a good vampire drama.

  I attempted to stuff my dark thoughts back into the deep, shadowy corners of my mind—where I had been keeping them for weeks now—when a loud knock shook the cottage. I descended the narrow wooden staircase and, in a few quick strides, crossed its cramped, open-concept living area. Opening the front door, I was greeted by a very anxious Seth. He wore a dark blue tuxedo, much too small for his large frame. His silky black hair and dark almond eyes shone brightly—the former from too much gel, the latter from nerves.

  “Hi!” he squeaked as I moved aside to let him in. As he raised his hand in greeting, the fabric of his sleeve tightened, threatening to burst at the seams.

  “Hey, Seth,” I greeted, peering behind him in search of our final team member. “Hunter’s not with you?”

  Seth shook his head. Tiny beads of sweat formed a glittering crown on his forehead. “Nope. He said he would meet us at the town hall. You know how he is about the whole hanging out thing.”

  At twenty-one, Hunter was the oldest member of our team and had a reputation for being the strong, silent type. He had been on a path to rock-star fame before he was turned in the 1980s, but now he preferred solitude to associating with our group. I assumed it had a little something to do with the fact that, since beginning our training this summer, I had placed him on a strict drug and alcohol detox.

  Putting aside worries about Hunter, I smiled at Seth. “I'm glad that you're here. The girls are upstairs,” I told him, turning to lock the door.

  As my hand connected with the metal bolt of the lock, a tiny shiver crept up my spine. Ever since the day Viktor had broken into the cottage, I had been extra sensitive about security. Though he was dead, I couldn't shake the sense of discomfort that came from knowing that he’d managed to penetrate my one sanctuary. I quickly swallowed the tight lump seizing my throat before the familiar feeling of uneasiness could consume me.

  The wooden walls of the cottage trembled as Seth's boisterous footsteps ascended the stairs. I followed closely behind, entering the bedroom just in time to hear him chuckle and say, “I like what you've done with the place.”

  Only two weeks had passed since I made the permanent move from the Scarlet House to the small cottage nestled deep within the Angel Creek forest, and already, Brooke had redecorated my bedroom to her liking. Pinks, purples, and lace covered every inch of the room. The only thing that she hadn't made over—for fear of her own safety—was my heavy, ancient weapons trunk.

  “Dawn must love being your Vampire Barbie,” Seth teased Brooke.

  “Shut up,” she retorted, and I cringed at the frostiness in her voice.

  From the moment she had turned Seth—after a “make out session with a nerd gone wrong” as she put it—the hostility between the two had started to swell. I’d thought that they had finally put their differences aside when they’d fought side-by-side during our battle with Viktor and his goons, but upon our return to Angel Creek, the tension between the two had only escalated.

  “I wonder if there’s something going on between them,” Sophie muttered in my ear. “Something more intense than simple animosity.” She gave me a knowing glance.

  “Maybe,” I replied.

  “You really don’t see it?” she pressed.

  I shrugged, trying my best to look nonchalant, secretly wishing that I had a better answer to her question. Sure, I could say the word “love” in at least twenty different languages, but actual matters of the heart stumped me. If there was a gene responsible for uncomplicated interactions with guys, I was pretty sure that I didn’t possess it. Which—considering my unconventional creation and development—was quite possible. That's not to say that my life at the Scarlet House hadn't provided me with plenty of opportunities for physical interactions with men, but most of the guys were at least three times my age—both in vampire and human years—and the physical contact usually entailed combat.

  My move to Angel Creek had altered that. I was still missing that special gene—I was sure of that—but things had changed. Very much. For the first time in my life, I had met someone who made me feel like there was more to life than just training and fighting. Someone who drove me completely insane, while also possessing the power to soothe my deepest pains and darkest fears.

  Someone named Sebastian York.

  When I found out a life-altering secret about my past that nearly destroyed me, Sebastian had been there to pick up the pieces of my shattered mind and broken heart. The only problem was that he had also been more involved in my past than I could ever have imagined. Because of that, and the somewhat exasperating fact that he was always acting so hot and cold, I had worked hard to fight my feelings for him. That is, until two weeks ago, when I could no longer hold back, and finally decided to act on the unexpected, foreign craving coursing through my body. It had been my first kiss, and it had been well worth the wait. I smiled at the memory of his mouth melting against mine, first softly, then with a hungry passion, sending a shockwave of heat through my entire body—from my lips all the way to my toes. Even now, simply recalling his touch set my skin ablaze.

  As if reading my mind, Sophie asked, “Is Sebastian coming over?”

  I looked away, evading her probing stare. For a shy girl who rarely talked about herself, Sophie certainly knew how to ask a lot of questions about other people’s personal lives.

  “He'll probably meet us at the ceremony,” I told her in the most casual manner I could muster. “W
hich reminds me, we better get going if we ever plan on making it there on time.”

  I attempted to guide the group out of the bedroom, but Brooke’s ears perked up at the mention of Sebastian’s name. “How are things with you and Angel Creek’s hottest vampire, by the way?” She grinned teasingly, looking at me over her shoulder as we made our way down the cramped staircase. “Has he been by to visit lately?”

  The word visit was laced with double-connotation. The girls hadn't been privy to the kiss Sebastian and I had shared by the marble fountain at the Scarlet House. Nevertheless, they had very strong—and very unsolicited—opinions about my love life.

  I feigned ignorance. “Sebastian? I don't remember. He may have stopped by.” The moment the words left my lips, I cursed my voice for betraying me.

  I did remember.

  I remembered each of his visits over the past two weeks with perfect clarity.

  My move and the training had filled every minute of every day, and September had flown by in a frenzy. Without warning, the sweltering summer heat was replaced by the fresh crispness of the emerging fall. Eager for new adventures, I had packed up the remaining pieces of my life, but settling into my new home had taken more strength and energy than I had expected. No matter how much I wanted to get away, saying goodbye to everything I had ever known wasn’t easy.

  Brooke and Sophie stayed with me every single night, so Sebastian only showed up briefly to extend a hand with work around the house. His mere proximity was enough to send my heart into overdrive, but I kept my distance, ensuring that we were never alone. I was still processing our kiss, still unsure how to approach him after what had transpired between us. Not that much had transpired. We had shared one kiss. One kiss and countless heated looks. I wasn't an expert in dating and romance, but even I knew that didn't amount to much.

  Last night, I had succeeded in convincing Brooke that the cottage had enough frilly embellishments to last me a lifetime, so she and Sophie retreated to town, finally enabling me to spend a night alone. After constantly being surrounded by people, I had desperately yearned for solitude, but hadn't been prepared for the severe emotions that the loneliness would evoke. I was suddenly overcome by the abrupt realization that I really was on my own.