ReAwakened

by Ada Adams

  “You need to help them! Please!” the caller cried. “I’m begging you!” The frantic urgency of her plea turned my blood to ice.

  “Who is this?”

  “I made a mistake,” the woman sobbed. “It’s all my fault. Please help them. They’ll die if you don’t.”

  Without having to ask, I knew with certainty that they meant Sebastian and Lena. I also knew that I would first have to place my trust in the caller before I could demand answers. Whoever she was, she was my only lifeline and I couldn’t risk losing her. “Tell me what happened,” I implored.

  “They were taken.” Her sobs turned to wails. “It’s bad! Very, very bad! You have to find them! Please!”

  “Do you know where they are?” I held my breath as I waited for her to respond.

  The woman rattled off an unfamiliar address. I repeated it out loud as Seth quickly typed it into his phone, giving me a thumbs-up sign when he was done.

  Upon hearing that Sebastian and Lena’s lives were at risk, I came close to flinging myself blindly at the mercy of the caller’s instructions, but common sense urged me to probe further. “Who is this?” I repeated again.

  “Sierra Alvaro.”

  Lena’s abducted sister? “Are you in danger?”

  “No, I’m fine. But Lena and Sebastian aren’t! They don’t have long.”

  “Have you contacted your father?”

  Sierra hesitated.

  “Do it now! Tell him exactly what you’ve told me,” I instructed. “The more people you have looking for them, the better the chance that they can be rescued.”

  “He’ll never make it there in time to save them. You’re my only hope!” she exclaimed. “Lena said I could trust you because Sebastian trusts you. Please don’t let them down. Their lives are in your hands.”

  Sierra wasn’t just tugging on my heartstrings. She was yanking on them.

  “You have to hurry,” she urged, her voice raspy from crying. “Save my sister. Please.”

  The line went dead as a loud knock sounded from the front door. Slowly, as if waking from a dream—or rather, a nightmare—I made my way toward the source of the noise. Razor stood on the other side, his light hair wet from a shower, a relaxed smile playing across his lips. Underneath his leather jacket, he was sporting one of Sebastian’s black tees, and for a moment I flirted with the insane idea of burying my face in the shirt and inhaling a lungful of Sebastian’s unique scent.

  “Hey,” Razor said, flashing a toothy grin to me, then nodding to the rest of the group as I introduced them.

  “So, who’s gonna tell him?” Seth asked, looking around the room. I was still reeling from the information Lena’s sister had just delivered, but Seth had clearly decided to cut to the chase.

  “Tell me what?” Razor asked, crossing his arms as he casually leaned against the door.

  “Sebastian is missing,” I whispered hoarsely. There it was again—the jagged knife slicing thin ribbons of guilt deep within my gut. “I’m sorry to have to break the news like this.”

  Razor bolted upright as the smile tumbled from his face. I watched his expression shift from confusion to disbelief, finally settling on a chilling combination of anger and grief. “You mean, he’s not here anymore?” he asked, scowling.

  “We mean, he’s in trouble,” Seth said. “Big, bloody trouble.”

  “And we need to save him,” I added, darting for the exit. “Now.” Plans, weapons, supplies—all logic—escaped me.

  “Hang on,” Razor said, stopping me in the doorway. “What exactly happened?”

  Brooke spoke up. “Sebastian set off to help his friend Lena find her kidnapped Born sister. Of course, he failed to tell us anything about it because he was trying to spare this one,” she said, nodding at me, “from getting hurt.”

  “You heard about that too, huh?” Razor looked off thoughtfully. A small crease appeared between his eyebrows.

  “Heard about what?” Brooke asked. “That deep down under his intimidating, dark exterior, your brother is actually a hopeless romantic?”

  “About the Born disappearances,” Razor clarified sharply. “Whatever’s happening, they’re doing a good job of keeping it quiet. Most people I’ve talked to still think it’s just a rumor.”

  “It’s real,” Seth grumbled.

  “We saw it with our own eyes,” Sophie added, gnawing on her bottom lip.

  “And now it’s happening to Sebastian,” I said, once again heading for the door.

  Ethan, who had been quiet during the entire ordeal, jumped off the couch and placed himself in front of the exit. “Don’t rush into this,” he warned. “You’re not thinking rationally.” It was more an appeal than a lecture, but his words held a note of warning. “You don’t know anything aside from a random address hundreds of miles away from here. How can you be sure that it will even lead to Sebastian?”

  “I have to trust that it will. Right now, it’s our only option. I know it’s not a lot to go on, but—”

  “Not a lot?” Ethan scoffed. “It’s nothing!”

  “It’s a lot more than we’ve had in two weeks!” I retorted. “So unless you have something better to offer me...”

  I waited. Ethan didn’t respond.

  “You’re going to risk your life for someone who couldn’t even bother to tell you where he was going?” he finally asked.

  “I’m going to risk my life for a friend,” I said through clenched teeth. “And if you’re not with me, I’d really appreciate if you’d move out of my way.” Every second we wasted on conversation was a second stolen from Sebastian and Lena’s rescue.

  “Well, I’m with you,” Razor spoke, moving to my side.

  Ethan eyed me warily, then said, “I’m always with you.” He slid away from the door, but his golden eyes still overflowed with concern. “I just think that we need to be better prepared before rushing into this situation.”

  I clenched my jaw. What I didn’t want to tell Ethan—what I didn’t want to share with anyone—was my fear that plans and preparations would lead to Sebastian’s demise. He’d been gone for almost two weeks, and the urgency in Sierra’s voice told me that both he and Lena didn’t have long. Even if I blamed them for getting themselves into this mess in the first place, I would do everything in my power to ensure their safety. The method of doing so was a questionable—and possibly, dangerous—one, but I had no other choice. My brain was at war with my heart, my conscience sparring with my impulse.

  To my relief, Razor came to my rescue, verbalizing my feelings. “We can’t waste time with strategy. If Seb’s in danger, we have to act right away. We’ll go ahead and investigate the location,” he told Ethan. “You can stay here, do as much prep as you need, then meet us when you’re ready. I’ll take care of D. She’ll be safe.”

  Ethan didn’t look very convinced. “I’m coming with you.”

  “I need you to help the team,” I told him, as cold realization that I was rushing headlong into the dark depths of the unknown washed over me. I chose to follow my gut, but that didn’t mean that I had to endanger the rest of the group. Especially at a time when most of them were still nursing wounds from their last fight. Razor, on the other hand, was fair game.

  Ethan pulled me aside. “Can we trust Lena’s sister?” he asked. “How do we know she’s not in on the whole Born kidnapping thing?”

  “We don’t.” I told him. “But right now, that address is the only lead we’ve got. We don’t have any other choice but to trust her. I’ll be on guard, I promise.”

  “What about Razor? Can we trust him?”

  I eyed Razor. He was pulling out various-sized knives from the pockets of his leather jacket, flipping them around between his fingers. He lifted his head, and as his gaze caught mine, he nodded toward the door, mouthing Let’s go.

  I looked back at Ethan and shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

  With those final words—and a quick stop at the weapons trunk—Razor and I were off to rescue Sebasti
an and Lena.

  Or so I hoped.

  After an in-depth lecture on the performance of turbo engines, I relented, allowing Razor to drive. As long as we made good time, I couldn’t care less about how we got there—even if that meant that I would be forced to sit in some flashy beast with a name better suited for an exotic dancer than a car. My gut told me that Razor was in a better mindset to brave the road, anyway. At the very least, he was better equipped to avoid mowing down any vehicles driving under my personal speed limit, which, like my current heart rate, was about two hundred miles an hour.

  I settled into the passenger seat, my fingers strumming nervously across the bright screen of my GPS. Seth had programmed it with the fastest possible route to an abandoned psychiatric facility on the outskirts of New York City.

  The drive was eerily quiet. Razor stared straight ahead, one hand gripping the wheel, the other resting on the console between us. I’d only known him for a few hours, but something told me that this was the quietest he’d been in a long time. I busied myself with researching the abandoned hospital, but the information floating around in cyberspace proved unhelpful. Mercy Hope Psychiatric Hospital closed in 1991 and had been awaiting demolition ever since. Aside from some urban explorers who had ventured inside for photography and a few psychics investigating tales of hauntings by vengeful spirits, there was no trace of the building having been used for anything in years.

  Dismayed by the lack of information, my thoughts drifted to the team. Before we left, the rest of the group had divided up tasks. Ethan was researching the location, Seth was attempting to get in touch with Lena’s father, Brooke was trying to hunt down Sierra for more information, while Sophie, the most composed of the bunch, was in charge of persuading Twitbrook to send back up. I had convinced them not to follow us until they heard some news. As hard as it was to admit, I wanted them to stay in Angel Creek. The mission Razor and I had embarked on was a crass and foolish one, devoid of logic and based on pure instinct. The less people I forced into this impending danger, the more likely it was that some of us would make it out alive.

  I found myself counting passing trees and flickering streetlights, chewing on my bottom lip until I drew blood—whatever it took to keep negative thoughts about Sebastian at bay. When I noticed the blood trickling down the center of Razor’s bottom lip, I realized that he was doing the same.

  I was racking my brain for something to say when he spoke. “What do you know about this girl?” he asked. “The one Seb ran off with.”

  I shifted in my seat to face him. “Not much. Her name is Selena Alvaro. Sebastian spent some time with her family while he was living in Mexico. That was right after…” I trailed off, looking down at my hands.

  He shot me a sideways glance. “The incident?”

  I nodded. “Yes,” I said, then cleared my throat. “She’s a Born, and that’s pretty much all I know. Sebastian promised to fill me in on the rest, but I guess he had other plans,” I grumbled.

  An inquisitive smile flickered across Razor’s lips. “So…you and my brother…?”

  “There is no ‘me and your brother’,” I assured him, though the deep ache in my chest begged to differ.

  “In that case, can I interest you in an upgraded, more advanced York model?” He smirked. “I figure, it’s probably best to put the offer on the table before Seb—”

  I groaned. “Your brother could be dead for all you know, and you’re making a move on a girl you met two hours ago?” I gaped at him in disbelief. “I can say the word pig in twenty different languages, but for you, maybe I need to learn a few more.”

  Razor’s smirk faded. “He’s not dead, you know.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “The same way I knew that he wasn’t dead for the past hundred years. The same reason that pushed me to keep returning to Angel Creek, to keep looking for him. I can feel it in my gut.” He paused, then added, “Can’t you?”

  I didn’t know what I was feeling. My gut was too full of anxiety to have any room for optimism. “Distract me,” I pleaded, ignoring his question.

  His dark eyes flickered to my face, then slowly descended down the rest of my body.

  “Ugh, not that kind of distraction,” I groaned, pulling my jacket around me. “Don’t you have the slightest trace of common decency?”

  Razor seemed to be enjoying the rise he was getting out of me. “Hey, you wanted to be distracted. It’s working, isn’t it?” He smirked.

  I rolled my eyes. While I was sometimes overcome with the desire to kick Sebastian’s butt, with his brother, I wanted to go right for the family jewels.

  Taking the matter of distraction into my own hands, I asked, “Back at the cottage, you mentioned that you also heard rumors about the Born disappearances. What do you know about that?”

  Razor’s eyes were back on the road. “Nothing concrete,” he said, shrugging. “We rely on donated blood in our industry. There were rumors that Born vamps were being taken for some black market blood sales, but that’s all they are at this point—just rumors.”

  “It’s certainly possible, though,” I mused, staring through the window.

  How many more flickering streetlights until Sebastian?

  A country song came on the radio. Its familiar tune sent me back to a time three months ago. Memories of my first day in Angel Creek came flooding back, tumbling into my mind, connecting the past with the present.

  “The girl who told you about Sebastian’s arrival…” I began as Razor switched to a different station. Loud rock music erupted from the speakers, spilling into the car, rattling the windows. “Was her name Hannah Johnson, by any chance?”

  “Hannah,” Razor tasted the name on his lips, chuckling to himself. “Yeah, that was it. Hard to forget her. She told me everything—from her favorite flavor of gum to her social security number.”

  I smiled. “That’s definitely her.” The moment I’d met Hannah, I’d liked her. Though her verbosity could be overwhelming at times, she was the first person in Angel Creek to greet me with open arms, and it was her love for sharing town gossip that had led me to Sebastian. However, the last time I saw Hannah, Viktor had forced her to poison me with vampire blood. We parted without saying goodbye, but I was looking forward to the day that she and her family would make their return to Angel Creek.

  “Were you able to help Hannah’s mother?” I asked.

  Razor met my eyes. “No,” he said, scowling. “Vampire blood can only do so much. It’s not a miracle cure.”

  “But it helps many people? Heals a lot of illnesses?”

  “It depends on what kind of vampire the blood comes from. The Born, for example, can heal many major wounds and sicknesses. The blood of Made vampires, on the other hand, varies. A Made created by a Born would have stronger blood than a Made created by a Made. The blood of those vamps is very weak and can only take care of minor scratches.”

  “So, Born blood…it couldn’t cure Hannah’s mom?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I’ve never been able to get my hands on Born blood, but even if I had some, it wouldn’t be able to heal the type of illness that Hannah’s mother has.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, my heart sinking. I knew how much Hannah loved her mom, how desperately she had wanted the procedure to work. “Is there any hope for her at all?”

  Razor pressed his lips together. “I’m afraid there’s not much anyone can do. I sent her to a friend of mine who works in one of the best hospitals in the country. I’m hoping that he may be able to help. Or at least, that he could ease some of her pain.”

  “I hope so too,” I said, recalling the way Hannah’s face lit up at any mention of her family.

  We were quiet for a while, each lost in our own thoughts, when Razor said, “By the way, Hannah also told me that there was a Born in town. I was thinking…if I can get this chick to donate some blood…”

  “I thought you just said that Born blood can’t help Hannah’s mom.”
r />   “I know, but it can help me. Even if it can’t heal everything, Born blood is still worth its weight in gold.” He shot me an expectant grin.

  “Yeah, well I don’t think this chick would be interested in donating anything to you.”

  “You?” His lips parted in feigned surprise. “No way!”

  “Yes way—and no way am I giving you any blood.”

  “Not even to heal the sick?” he pouted.

  “I’m starting to doubt that the sick even want to be healed by you.”

  Razor didn’t miss a beat. “Everyone wants to be healed. Why do you think humans have so many medical shows on TV? The ‘Baby, I’m a doctor’ line works wonders on the ladies. Add to that, ‘I’m a vampire doctor,’ and their clothes practically fall off.”

  “Not everyone is into doctors,” I retorted, desperately wanting to deflate his ego.

  “You’d be surprised, D.”

  “D?” It was the second time he’d called me that.

  “Believe it or not, you never properly introduced yourself when you attacked me, so I decided to call you D—after your pet dagger.”

  I’d never been much of an eye-roller, but around Razor, the gesture came naturally. And often. “I may not be a doctor, but I can definitely diagnose you with a weird nickname fetish.”

  “Oh, come on, Razor Boy and Dagger Girl—it’s brilliant! We’re like an old-school crime-fighting team. Fighting evil, one bad guy at a time.”

  I sighed, exasperated. “We’re not a team. You’re only here because Sebastian is your brother and I’m being forced to bring you along for his own good. We do this one thing and then you’re—”

  “On my merry little way to bother someone else,” he finished. “I know. I know. But I’d advise that you think about my proposal. We could get ourselves some matching neon tights…maybe a bandana or two?”

  “Do you do this all the time?” I asked pointedly.

  He feigned ignorance. “Do what?”

  “Treat everything like it’s some big joke!” I growled, clenching my fists.

  His jaw tightened. “I’ve been around long enough to know that everything in life is a big joke.”