ReAwakened

by Ada Adams

  “I know how it sounds, but it’s the truth,” Brooke said. “We were attacked by zombified vamps and weres.” She paused. “Okay…now that I’ve said it out loud, it does sound really stupid.”

  “It’s not like they were actual dead zombies, though,” Seth explained. “More like, robots.”

  Brooke rubbed her temples. “Now you’re bringing robots into this? You think that will help our case?”

  “Yes,” Seth growled. “Better than zombie vamps.” He turned to me. “It was almost as if the attackers were programmed to do this. There's no other way to explain it. It seemed like they weren't thinking freely—like their minds were controlled by someone else.” He turned back to Brooke. “Hence, robots.”

  Oh, great. We were amidst some crazy sci-fi movie plot.

  Before I had time to ask any more questions, one of Twitbrook's guards approached. He shoved a piece of paper in my hand and ran—actually sprinted away.

  As I read through the official Scarlet House document, my heart sank.

  “What does it say?” Seth asked.

  When I didn't respond, he took the paper. In a reaction that would make a cartoon character proud, his eyes bulged out of his head and his jaw dropped to his chest.

  “What? What?” Brooke looked at us frantically.

  Seth sighed. “It says something along the lines of: ‘Dear Miss Fairchild, all of your guardianship duties and privileges in Angel Creek have been revoked by his majestic excellence President Twitbrook. Effective immediately. Same goes for your pathetic little team of misfits. On top of that, you're no longer allowed on the Scarlet House property. Have a nice day and don't let the door hit you on your way out.’ It's worded differently, but that’s the gist of it.”

  “What?!” Brooke cried. “He can't do that!”

  “Yes, he can,” I mumbled. “He’s the president.”

  “Did the letter say why we're being discharged?” Sophie asked, looking over at Seth.

  Seth scanned the paper. “Yes. Apparently we underperformed during today's attack.”

  “We did our best!” Brooke was still yelling.

  “You did. It's just an excuse on his part,” I told them glumly. “I upset him today by accusing him of being involved in this whole Born kidnapping mess,” I explained. “I was only working on a hunch, but the way he reacted confirmed my suspicions.”

  Sophie sighed. “I can't believe that we're no longer guardians.”

  “We lasted an entire week. Congratulations, everyone!” Seth said sarcastically. He clenched his fists, narrowing his eyes in the direction of Twitbrook’s office window. “What a coward. He didn't even have the guts to fire us in person.”

  “No, but I bet he's going to post an update about it on his stupid networking sites,” Brooke sneered.

  “Yeah, and that means that all of Angel Creek is going to know about our failure by tonight,” Seth whined, crumpling up the document. “We're doomed.”

  In one short weekend, I had confronted the memories of my father, faced down the U.S. vampire president, witnessed the aftermath of a brutal slaying of innocent children, nearly lost a friend, had my guardianship role revoked, and received a restraining order against a place that had once been my home.

  If that didn't qualify as doomed, I don't know what did.

  Doom also awaited us in Angel Creek. News of the team’s failure at the Scarlet House spread like wildfire. If its residents had secretly doubted us before, they didn’t even bother hiding their negative judgment now. Callous whispers and prying eyes trailed us everywhere we went.

  Sophie, Brooke, Seth, and I took refuge within the wooden walls of the cottage while Hunter healed at the Scarlet House infirmary. Twitbrook had mustered up a morsel of humanity by not kicking him off the property until he was fully healed. Elisa had mentioned that it was all thanks to Dr. McMeany—or, rather, Dr. Carter. If anyone in that place could stand up to the president, it was definitely her.

  “What do we do now?” Seth asked on the fifth day of our exile at the cottage. “Are we just going to stay here forever?”

  His questions echoed my own. I felt trapped in place while at the same time being pulled in a million different directions. I desperately wanted to hunt down the attackers. Someone had to avenge the lost lives, especially since Twitbrook’s camp wasn’t doing much in that regard. Family members of the missing Born had organized search parties and rallied to bring attention to the cause, but without the full support of the president, they had very little authority and even less support. Most days, it appeared that no one was searching for them, and I couldn’t bear the thought that the kidnappers were hurting innocent children. I was also filled with dread and anxiety over the fact that two whole weeks had passed, and there was still no trace of Sebastian. I was tired of sitting around idly while days flew by. Each new dawn pushed him farther away from me; every dark dusk decreased the probability of his return.

  Regardless of my desire to take action, there were too many hurdles in my path. The team was still healing from the attack. Though the other members hadn’t fared as badly as Hunter, all three had sustained injuries. Hunter was due back in town any day now, but it would be a while before everyone was fully restored—both physically and mentally. Their confidence in their abilities was completely destroyed and it would take time to repair. Then there was the fact that Twitbrook had warned other guardians against collaborating with us. According to him, we were grounded. Indefinitely.

  Since our return to Angel Creek, Ethan had been our only visitor. As always, his glass was half-full as he responded to Seth’s desolate question with optimism. “What you do now is get some rest,” he told him. “I know things are really bad at this moment, but they will get better.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Brooke retorted. “You haven’t just lost your entire purpose in life.”

  “You’re right, I haven’t,” Ethan said. “But neither have you. That job wasn’t your entire life's purpose. All of you are much more than just Angel Creek’s guardians. Focus on other things that make you happy.”

  Brooke glared at him.

  “You're running for prom queen, right?” he asked with unwavering cheerfulness.

  “Oh, please, even I'm not so delusional to believe that winning that crown is still a realistic goal,” she grumbled. “And, honestly, I kinda don’t care anymore.”

  Ever since our return from the Scarlet House, there had been a shift in Brooke’s behavior. Her loud personality had quieted, and there were fewer me-statements in her speech. An entire week had passed without a single comment about the prom. For Brooke, that had to be a record.

  Ethan’s resolve wasn’t shattered by Brooke’s depressing tone. “Okay, no prom, but you’re still a student, right? Focus on that,” he advised.

  Brooke blinked. “Like, you mean, studying?”

  For the first time all week, Seth chuckled. “Believe it or not, that's a real thing many people do.”

  Brooke ignored him, seemingly considering Ethan's suggestion. “Fine,” she finally said. “I’m assuming that you’ll be my tutor?”

  Ethan shook his head. “Seth can tutor you,” he said. Ignoring Brooke’s frown, he continued, “He's much better equipped to deal with algebraic equations than I am; you'll be in good hands.” He then turned to Seth. “Being a tutor will keep you busy and take your mind off last week’s events. What do you say, guys?”

  Both Seth and Brooke seemed shocked by Ethan's arrangement, but neither protested. Instead, their forlorn expressions faded ever so slightly.

  Ethan, intent on continuing his cheer crusade, smiled at Sophie. “And you have your work at the library. Everyone in town loves your book recommendations.”

  Sophie scrunched up her forehead. “Yes, but no one wants to speak with me anymore. How am I supposed to talk about books if no one is willing to listen?” she questioned.

  Seth brightened. “You could start a book blog and gain a voice that way.”

  “Good idea, Seth
,” Ethan said. “It would be a nice way to make new friends.”

  Sophie seemed hesitant. “I don’t know the first thing about blogging.”

  “It’s easy. I’ve had tons of different blogs over the years. I’ll teach you,” Seth said, now fully animated. “The first thing you’ll need is a catchy name.”

  “Like…Sophie’s Book Blog?” Sophie proposed, slowly warming to the idea.

  “Nah, it needs to be more memorable,” Seth commanded.

  “Sophie’s Sexy Secret Space?” Brooke suggested. “Your slogan could be: Come by and discover all of Sophie’s deepest, darkest secrets.”

  Seth grimaced. “That sounds like a different type of blog than what Sophie’s going for,” he said chuckling. “I don’t think that she’d be attracting the right type of visitors with that kind of marketing.”

  “We'll keep brainstorming,” I said, shooting Ethan a grateful look. I was pleased to see the team look alive for the first time in days.

  “What about Hunter?” Ethan asked. “Do you think that he’ll want to focus on his music now that he’ll have some free time?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, pressing my lips together as I recalled Hunter’s beautiful voice. I feared the effect his injury and Twitbrook’s punishment would have on him. Training to become Angel Creek's guardian had provided him with a positive purpose in life. He was finally warming up to the idea of being an integral part of our team—singing at my father's memorial had been proof of that. Now that purpose had been ripped away from him. I felt a need to protect him—to protect them all.

  No matter what, I won’t let Twitbrook destroy the four vampires I've grown so deeply fond of, I vowed.

  “We keep training,” I resolved suddenly. Four pairs of eyes flew to me.

  “Training?” Brooke asked. “Why?”

  “Why not?” I responded. “Guardians or not, we have to be ready for anything.”

  Brooke rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding if you think that I'm going to put my butt on the line to save any of those human jerks in town,” she spat.

  Sophie gasped. “Brooke!”

  “The people of Angel Creek aren't my concern at the moment,” I told them. “We have much bigger problems to deal with. We need to get to the bottom of the Born disappearances, zombie vampires, and werewolves on steroids. Plus,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat, “Sebastian and Lena are still missing.”

  “This whole thing is such a mess,” Seth grumbled, rubbing his hands across his face. “How are we going to get out of it?”

  “We’ll find a way,” I said, making a mental to-do list.

  Ensuring the team’s safety and well-being was the first item on the list. I was thankful that Ethan had managed to lift their spirits today; I just wished I could go to the Scarlet House and check up on Hunter as well. For now, I had to trust that Dr. Carter was taking good care of him.

  Next, I had to track down Sierra Alvaro’s last whereabouts for clues that could lead to her kidnappers, and, more specifically, Sebastian and Lena. I had tried to contact Lena’s father in hope that he could help point me in the right direction, but for a man with two missing daughters, he certainly took his time returning my calls.

  I also had to rescue the missing Born. The only problem was, I had no idea how to go about doing that. I hated not having a solid plan, and despised each dead-end that I hit on my quest to find the kidnappers. I was trapped in limbo with no goal in sight. The team was injured, so I couldn’t exactly drag them on spontaneous, impromptu quests. The guardians in neighboring areas were useless. Fearing Twitbrook’s wrath, they refused to acknowledge my requests for back-up on any rogue missions I intended to embark on. Whatever needed to be done, I had no choice but to do it alone.

  Ethan raised his eyebrows. “So…what’s the plan?” For once, he didn’t have any suggestions.

  “For now, we train,” I said out loud. Then, we fight.

  “I'll help out,” he proposed, shooting me a warm smile. “Just like old times.”

  It’s going to be okay, his eyes seemed to say, but I didn’t yet believe it.

  The training plan for the evening fell through as a violent storm rolled through Angel Creek, bringing with it malevolent lightning and explosive thunder. Rain poured down on the cottage, each drop ringing out its own melodious note as it crashed against the roof. Torrential winds shook the trees, ripping dark golden leaves from their summer homes and driving them down to the wet ground below.

  The group settled in for the night, eagerly putting Ethan’s suggestions to work. Seth and Brooke began drafting up a tutorial schedule, while Sophie worked on creating her blog. Fearing that the plastic tarp we used to cover Sebastian’s broken window would never survive the storm, I set off toward his house to check on it. Ethan offered to help, but I convinced him to stay with the others. The job was small enough, and he appeared to be the only person capable of keeping everyone from dwelling on our miserable situation.

  I opted for a slow walk through the forest, not wanting to rush toward what I was certain was an empty home surrounded by angry clouds and enveloped in darkness. The rain was cool, yet it felt incredibly soothing against my skin. Ever since I was a little girl, walking in stormy weather had served as a means to release anxiety. There was something liberating about gliding through the rain; I found a magical sense of comfort in letting it wash away all frustrations of the world.

  By the time I reached Sebastian’s front door, I was soaked. The faded denim of my jeans had turned dark and had plastered tightly against my legs, revealing the outline of the dagger strapped to my right calf. My hair lay matted against my face, and I had to move it out of the way to see. The wind had successfully pried off the tape from the bottom corners of the window tarp, causing the plastic to flap around wildly. Heavy drops of rain seeped through the opening, covering the hardwood floor of the foyer in water. At any moment now, the tape from the two top corners would likely fly away, leaving the window completely exposed.

  My first stop on Operation Home Repair was the kitchen at the back of the house. I rummaged through the drawers for a thicker, sturdier adhesive that could stand a chance against the heavy winds. Just as my fingers wrapped around a roll of heavy-duty duct tape, a deafening clap of thunder erupted as lightning crashed, splitting open a nearby tree. The lights flickered, and the power went out, drenching me in darkness.

  I scrambled around the kitchen for a flashlight, but came up empty-handed. While I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dimness, I could feel my other senses sharpening as well. Within seconds, I could see through the darkness. Not perfectly, but enough to avoid bumping into furniture, and well enough to reseal the window.

  I made my way toward the front of the house, unnerved by the frantic sound of the flapping tarp. Deep in the darkness behind me, I heard the creak of door hinges as the back door opened, then quickly slammed shut. Spinning on my heels, I rushed toward the noise, but when I reached the door, I found it firmly locked. A small trail of watery footprints led from the foot of the door toward the staircase in the center of the hall.

  Footprints which I was certain hadn’t been there before.

  “Hello?” I called out into the darkness.

  No response.

  “Anybody there?”

  Again nothing.

  “Fine. Have it your way,” I said as I bounded up the stairs to the second floor. “When I get my hands on you, you’re going to wish you’d made yourself known earlier!”

  At the top of the landing, I slowed, quieting my breathing as I examined the dark hallway. Following the water trail, I crept toward the master bedroom, pausing to take a deep breath before flinging the door open and rushing in.

  In a flash of lightning, I spotted a tall, shadowy figure darting at the back wall. As I rushed after the sound of the heavy footsteps, a window on the far side of the room blew open and another burst of light illuminated the prowler perching on its ledge, ready to plunge into the darkness below.
Without a second thought, I dove after him, barely managing to grab hold of his leather jacket as we both flew through the window.

  My two-story fall was cushioned by a muscular torso. The owner of the muscles—a vampire, I realized—groaned as I landed on top of him, forcing him into the muddy ground. I reached for my dagger, but he was quicker. He slipped out from underneath me, flipping me in the process so that he was quickly astride me. His firm body pressed down against mine as his hands pinned my wrists to either side of my head. As a bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree, I was greeted by a mischievous smirk dancing across perfectly-shaped full lips.

  “Quite feisty, aren’t you?” he chuckled, bending forward to examine me. Deep charcoal eyes overflowed with amusement.

  He was actually enjoying this.

  “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispered in a deep, throaty voice. “I’m gonna release you now, so don’t do anything stupid.”

  He lifted his arm, removing his right hand from my left wrist. The moment I was free, I threw a left hook at his jaw. He blocked my hand, once again pushing it toward the ground.

  “I said I wasn’t going to hurt you!” he growled, pinning me against the soft, wet earth.

  “But I never said that I wouldn’t hurt you!” I snapped.

  He brought his face toward mine. “I’d like to see you try,” he whispered.

  Challenge accepted.

  Now I just had to find a way out of his tight grasp. I raised my head, inching my lips closer to his. He tensed for a moment, his eyes searching mine. Drops of rainwater slid down his chiseled jaw, pausing briefly on his lips before they plummeted down to mine. Then, a slow, smug smile spread across his face. I felt his body relax and he leaned closer. His breath caressed my skin as his lips drew near.

  It was exactly what I needed. Summoning all my strength, I twisted my hips to the side, lifting them up and out, then launched my legs off the ground. Thrown off-balance, the vampire groaned and released one of my arms as he braced for the fall, giving me the chance to free my dagger. In an instant, I was behind him, securing him in a headlock with the blade of my weapon aimed directly at his heart.