Alexi rubbed her face, searching her limited memory. “Do we—did we know each other? I don’t remember anything before . . .” She wanted to say last night, but she had no idea how long it had been since she escaped.
“No, we don’t. I mean—well, not really.”
The girl’s hands moved to her hair, tugging at the ends in a nervous gesture.
“I’m Savanna, and you’re Alexi.”
“How do you know my name?”
An uncomfortable expression flickered across Savanna’s face.
“Look, this is hard to explain, and it’s not going to make a lot of sense to you.”
Alexi flopped back down on the cot, weary from holding herself upright.
“Then it should fit perfectly with everything else that’s happened since I woke up. Seriously, just hit me with it.”
“Okay. Well, then . . . I’m a witch.”
Alexi shrugged. “I’m not feeling super friendly right now, either, so I won’t judge.”
“No,” Savanna said with a short, breathy laugh, “not that kind of witch. The magic kind.”
Alexi cocked her head to the side and peered at the girl. Savanna was staring back at her with a wide-eyed, worried expression, as though she were expecting Alexi to laugh at her. But no . . . the girl was serious.
Oh, hell. Maybe she’s crazy. Mentally ill and possibly homeless.
She must have randomly stumbled across Alexi in that alley. It was bad luck that she didn’t remember anything. Hell, her name probably wasn’t even Alexi—
“I’m messing this up,” Savanna said with an explosive sigh. “Let me show you and then things will make more sense.”
“They would almost have to.”
Savanna reached down and pulled something out of the calf of one of her knee-high leather boots. It was a dagger, straight out of some medieval armory, the metal hilt turned with ornate scrolling. Runes covered a long, polished blade. It reminded her of . . . runes scrawled in blood across her own skin. Alexi scrambled back against the wall pushing at the cot with her feet.
“It’s okay.” Savanna raised her hands. “This isn’t for you. It’s for me. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”
She laid the blade across her palm and squeezed. A drop of blood slid down her skin between the blade and her palm. It pooled in the creases of her hand before dropping to the blanket bellow.
“What the hell—” Alexi clutched the blanket, ready to spring for the door.
And then the smell hit her.
Iron and copper and . . . something else she couldn’t place. Something cloyingly sweet and unbearably delicious. The world around her narrowed, her vision dimming to a point. The sound of traffic outside, even her own breathing, faded away.
She didn’t remember moving. One moment she was perched on the cot, ready to bolt for the door, and in the next, she held Savanna pinned up against the far wall. Everything was cold, except for the girl. Savanna reverberated with hot energy that poured off her in waves. And the smell. It pulled her, beckoned her, and begged her to taste.
“I’m sorry,” Alexi whispered as she peeled back Savanna’s fingers to reveal the long, bloody gash on her palm. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“It’s okay,” Savanna whispered, “I knew this would happen.”
Whatever shred of willpower Alexi had vanished. She bit down on Savanna’s palm. The girl whimpered. Heat flowed through the wound and into Alexi—something more than just blood. Time seemed to stop as she fed. The dull, heavy ache in her bones vanished, her eyes cleared, and her senses woke and became almost painfully sensitive.
Savanna struggled, trying to push Alexi away. Instinctively, Alexi held her tighter, straddling the girl’s legs and trapping her against the wall.
“Alexi—” Savanna was crying. “Stop! I can’t—”
Alexi didn’t want to stop. She wanted everything. She wanted to take every last drop until Savanna was nothing but an empty shell.
Oh, god. Stop, stop, stop!
Savanna went limp, the dagger slipping from her hand and falling to the floor with a dull thump.
Stop!
Alexi tore herself away. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Savanna slid to the ground, collapsing into a heap. The wound on her hand vanished as if it were never there.
“Oh, god. Savanna?”
Alexi fell to her knees, a sudden wave of guilt breaking over her.
“Savanna? I’m so sorry!”
Savanna’s dim eyes stared vacantly over Alexi’s shoulder. Alexi pressed her fingers against her throat, searching for a heartbeat. There. Faint but present.
“Alexi,” Savanna whispered.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t—I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do.”
“Thirsty.” Savanna coughed.
How much blood had the girl lost? There was no sink in the room and no fridge. A faded green duffel bag lay crumpled in the corner by the door. Alexi dumped it out on the cot. A pink dress, sandals, and a roll of tightly wound ones fell out. She flipped through the money, thirty dollars in all.
You drank her blood.
Alexi thrust the thought aside. Savanna couldn’t be comfortable on the floor. Alexi lifted her easily and laid her out on the cot, covering her with the unicorn blanket. She folded the bag and stuffed it under her head as a pillow.
With the roll of ones in her hand, she headed for the door and froze. All she had on was the flimsy underwear and the long coat she had stolen. The dress that fell out of Savanna’s bag would surely be too small. After all, she was much taller and broader than the petite witch.
You drank her blood.
She slipped it on over her head. The light pink summer dress had seen better days. The hem fell below her knees, and it was tight in places, but it fit. The sandals did, too. Alexi looked down at herself. The dress was meant for warmer weather, but combined with the coat, it would do. She didn’t have time to care. The only person she knew in the world was dying, and she wasn’t going to be the one who killed her. She zipped the coat up halfway. It fit well enough to modestly shield her.
The foul-smelling hallway was no better than the apartment. As she left, she saw a drunk sleeping off his stupor by the stairs.
Yellow lamps bathed the street in dirty light. All she could see were apartment buildings—no signs or stores. Savanna didn’t have time for her to guess. She closed her eyes to think. The smell of gas burned her nose and forced her to cough.
You drank her blood.
The stench was strong enough that Alexi suspected there must have been some sort of leak. Not wanting to linger, she guessed which direction to go and took off at a run. Her legs felt fresh, ready to run all night if need be. It took her five minutes to find the glowing sign above the street. There was no leak or accident, just an old man filling up his compact car.
The store was open. Alexi blew through the door. The little bell rang frantically from the force. She found the drinks and bought four bottles of juice and some doughnuts for Savanna to eat. The clerk lazily rang up the food. It cost a third of the money she had found in Savanna’s bag. Alexi didn’t care. Money could be replaced. She tapped her foot as he punched one button at a time, taking precious seconds to find each one. She didn’t wait for him to give her a receipt. She ran out the door with the plastic bag in hand. For all she knew, Savanna was already dead.
Her mind filled with a jumble of thoughts as she raced back to the apartment. She had enjoyed it, the feeling of power over another person, the buzz of hunting, of controlling another.
No, that’s not me. It was an accident, and whatever made me do it, I won’t do it again.
She almost believed herself . . . almost.
You drank her blood!
***
“Get up, dog.”
The pointy toe of an expensive stiletto cracked against Victor’s ribs, sending a jolt of pain through him. After rolling his head to the side, he opened one eye to gaze up at his captor. Illy
ana looked down at him with a flicker of impatience in her long-lashed eyes. Victor waited a moment too long, and a crackle of something else passed through her gaze. Fire crawled up his spine, sinking tendrils of agony into his back. Victor leaped to his feet, slamming his head into the roof of the van.
“Ever the alpha,” Illyana said in her strangely accented voice. She laid a hand on his shoulder as though to steady him.
“Why do you resist me? Your pack has learned to obey.”
“They’re made to follow,” he said through clenched teeth. “It’s easier for them.”
“You can learn.” Her hand slid down to his chest, and her fingers gently stroked his bare skin. “This doesn’t have to hurt.”
Victor didn’t pull away from her touch, remembering too well her rage the last time he had rejected her. She was beautiful, but every time her full lips parted, he heard only the clanking of chains and the voices of pack mates she had killed. Many of them died so she could prove her point. He wished fervently, and not for the first time, that she had killed him as well.
The van rumbled to a halt.
“We’re here,” Demarco called from the driver’s seat. They were still thirty miles from the city in a wooded campground just off the highway. The driver wasn’t as tall as Victor, but every inch of him rippled in muscles. Where Victor’s skin was a dark brown bordering on black, Demarco had much lighter tones to match his blonde hair.
“I’ll set up the ritual here,” Illyana said, directing her words to Demarco and Ringo, who occupied the forward passenger seat. “The three of you will head into the city and find her. The medallion I gave you will lead you to her—bring her back alive and unharmed.”
Demarco and Ringo glanced at each other and then back at Victor. Aside from him, they were the only living members of his pack—three altogether out of twenty. Where he had once seen trust and respect in their eyes, now there was only hatred. Worse, he knew it was no less than he deserved. He was the reason their pack mates were dead and why they were now slaves to this witch and her vendetta.
Victor couldn’t guess why Illyana hated that poor girl. Whatever the source, it was personal. Illyana had used his pack to destroy an entire coven, and they had tracked the sole survivor of that massacre for a thousand miles. The girl was clever and resourceful, and after what Victor and his pack had done to her coven, he knew why she had tried so hard to elude them. Still, it was only a matter of time. Illyana was powerful, and she had chosen her slaves well.
“Come on. Let’s get this over with,” Victor growled to the other two men. They exited the van and stripped off their clothes as the moon rose overhead. Tonight it would end, and his failure would be complete.
He was the last of the three to change. It used to mean so much to him.
Now all it meant was death.
THREE
Savanna slipped in and out of consciousness during the night. Alexi managed to help her drink two of the bottles of OJ. After a few hours, her breathing deepened, and her skin flushed. She no longer hovered on the verge of death. The tiny room offered no views of the outside, but Alexi guessed it was near sunrise when she finally could stay awake no longer. She struggled to keep her eyes open, but fatigue settled on her like a heavy weight, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Alexi crawled on the cot and settled her back against the wall, letting Savanna use her lap as a pillow. Exhausted, she struggled to stay awake, fearing that Savanna would need her during the night. She flipped off the light switch next to the bed, bathing the room in darkness.
Her sleep was restless, filled with a confusing, terrifying dream. Savanna was in it, one face among several others she didn’t recognize. The man from the club emerged from some dark corner with his sword raised over Savanna’s sleeping form. Alexi threw herself forward to block the blow. The sword turned to garbage, and she found herself crashing down into the alley again. A word floated on the breeze, half-whispered . . . vampire.
Alexi jerked awake. She was alone on the cot.
She cleared her eyes by rubbing her face. A mournful, sweet song drifted to her ears as she woke up. Savanna knelt next to the bed and was using a bottle of water and a rag to clean her neck and face.
“That’s a beautiful song,” Alexi said with a yawn.
Savanna jumped. The light shone through her dirty blue dress enough for Alexi to make out a plethora of scars on her side and some on her leg, just above the hem.
“Shit . . . what happened to you?”
Savanna smoothed out the dress, and a flush spread across her face, tightening her skin and darkening the brown skin of her face. The scars vanished under the blue garment. Savanna crawled on the bed. From her careful movements, Alexi could tell she was in pain. The night before haunted her. What she had done and what she had almost done were burned in her memory.
“Savanna, I’m sorry.” She closed her mouth, took a breath, and asked the question to which she dreaded the answer. “What am I?”
“You’re a vampire, but I guess you figured that out.”
“No,” she whispered. “No, that’s not possible.”
“When I still lived with my family, what feels like forever ago, I would do these rituals. They would take time to prepare, sometimes days. When I finished, I could see the future. Not my future usually. People would pay me for my gift.”
Alexi quirked an eyebrow up. The future. That’s not . . . I’m going to have to revisit my definition of impossible.
“My mom called it precognition. I’m the most powerful my coven produced in a generation.” She didn’t sound happy about that—more like miserable.
“When I . . . left home I got by. I set up shop and told people winning lottery numbers, what girl they should ask out, that sort of thing.” Her face turned down. The doughnut package resisted her attempts to open it. Without looking up, she held it out to Alexi. The plastic tore like tissue, and powdery doughnuts fell on the bed. Savanna picked one up and nibbled at it like a bird.
“Two weeks ago, I was living in Austin, and I dreamed of you. We were on a hill, there was a bright light, and you looked at me and said, ‘Come find me when you wake up, and I’ll protect you.’” She sighed as the doughnut disappeared a crumb at a time.
Her shoulders slumped. “That’s all you said. I sensed that you were a vampire and that somehow you didn’t know. I hoped that I could help you, and you me.” Her eyes never left the bed.
Alexi resisted the urge to wrap her arms around the girl. After last night, she doubted it would be seen as a comforting gesture.
“Savanna, I’m so sorry. Of course, I’ll help you.” She reached out to lift the girl’s chin. “You saved me twice, and you don’t even know me.” Savanna glanced up with her big violet eyes. They were glassy and full of tears.
How long would she have had to be alone to trust her life to a dream? Alexi clenched her fist. Savanna’s obvious pain touched a well of anger in her and boiled it to the surface.
“We can’t stay here then,” Savanna said. “They’re probably already coming for me.”
“Who?” Alexi pushed the remainder of the doughnuts to her. For some reason the thought of eating them turned her stomach.
“Werewolves and a witch who wants me dead,” she said with a mouthful of doughnuts.
“Why?” Alexi grinned from the absurdity. “Let’s—” She stopped. A drumbeat in her ears. It came from the hall, next to the door. Two more joined the rhythm. Alexi caught herself licking her lips. They weren’t drums.
Heartbeats.
“They’re here,” Alexi whispered.
Savanna’s eyes widened. It took her two seconds to gather her things and stuff them in her green backpack. Alexi slipped on her coat. Savanna finished pulling on her boots that were a size too large. How did she survive on her own? She looks like she’s barely eaten in a week.
Strength surged through her, like a bull behind the gates waiting for the bell to sound. She moved silently to the door and pressed her hands and ear
against it. The hallway materialized in her mind—thirty feet to the front door, four other apartments, and she could feel the drunk still passed out at the end of the hallway. On the other side of her door were three men. She cocked her head to the side. They were quiet but not enough to escape her. Two stood on either side of the door, with the third in the hallway ten feet down.
Alexi’s instinct kicked in, and she acted without pausing to think. She slammed her foot into the door between the hinges. The wooden frame exploded outwards showering the men with debris and chunks of the ruined door. She charged through the doorway with a snarl.
Savanna screamed. Water splashed on Alexi’s face. Something slammed into her jaw, knocking her sideways against the wall. She dropped to one knee and flung her leg out behind her. A grunt told her she had connected.
A knee slammed into her face, knocking her back against the wall. Then she was flung through the air. She collided with the opposite wall.
There were three men dressed in black suits. They all wore large brass knuckles on their hands. Each knuckle ended with a carved holy symbol. The cross and Star of David were obvious. The other three she didn’t recognize. A foot connected with her ribs—hard. She grunted. One of the men grabbed Savanna by the waist. He hefted her up like she was a bag of potatoes.
“Alexi!”
“Get her out of here!” one of them yelled. They were all a blur but she zeroed in on the leader, a tall man with brown hair. He spoke to a well-built Asian man who held Savanna and dragged her from the room.
Alexi’s face bounced off the floor from the blow to her head. Alexi froze; her muscle memory failed her. Feet and fists rained down on her. The floor cracked under the blows.
“Use the stake,” the one who kicked her screamed. He was older and had a little thickness around his waist.
Like hell!
Alexi kicked out with her foot. Something soft crunched. She freed herself with one more blow. She rolled to her feet. The Asian dragged Savanna out of the apartment. One was on the ground with his arms wrapped around his stomach. The third held out a cross to her.
With the Dawn (Faith of the Fallen) Page 2