Walking The Razor's Edge

by Ileandra Young

  Lenina gaped.

  ‘For someone who’s ‘not an idiot’ you really don’t know how to take a gift, do you?’ Tristen’s weak voice drawled from somewhere near her feet. ‘Go get your brother. I’ve got the puppies.’ He forced himself into a sitting position, using two hands now to bring the sofa up and down, slamming it repeatedly into the wolves each time they tried to escape. ‘Go!’

  She ran.

  #

  Lenina burst into the kitchen hard and fast enough that the two wolves waiting had no time to react. They stood beyond a rectangular dining table, watching the rear door with their ears pricked forward. She ducked low without stopping, scooping her hands beneath the table and flipping it up and over.

  While they struggled beneath it, she hurdled the table and dashed into the garden.

  Four more wolves, each of them growling and showing off their fangs.

  She groaned, casting about for something, anything that might help defend herself.

  An old BBQ stood against one wall, metal legs rusted and uneven. A wooden bench leaned beneath a small tree with a green plaque on the backrest.

  Well if it worked for Tristen . . .

  She swung her hand through the air, calling for the bench to move the way she had seen her father do it. The wooden structure wobbled stubbornly then lurched into the air, bobbing a few times before crashing into one of the wolves. The creature yelped as the bench struck and fell on the grass. The whimpers continued as the bench landed on top of it.

  The remaining three wolves shared a look.

  Tristen stumbled through the door, clutching at the frame as his knees wobbled. ‘You need to work on your finesse, Lenina. Tzuza is a delicate thing. You have to feel it with every part of your body. Feel the bench.’ He forced one eye open and squinted, counting under his breath. ‘How many? Six?’ He pointed way off to the right.

  ‘Three. And they’re at your ten o’clock. Are you sure you can do this?’

  He smiled. ‘What, fight the good fight? Give myself up for the helpless human?’ He straightened. ‘Not likely, but I can show these moon puppies what happens when they piss off Tristen Blake.’

  The wolves leapt.

  Lenina ducked.

  Tristen cackled and an instant later a clang signalled the BBQ slamming into the advancing wolves. Subsequent clangs alongside panicked yips and growls showed his vision had improved.

  Ten seconds later not a single wolf moved.

  Panting, Tristen stumbled on to the grass, forcing Lenina to catch him or else be crushed beneath him. ‘I probably shouldn’t do any more of that for a while.’

  ‘Thanks. Will you be okay?’ She lowered him gently.

  He gave her an incredulous stare. ‘Gift, Lenina.’

  At the bottom of the garden she slid to a stop on the damp grass.

  Remnants of the back gate littered the floor, the bolt in a patch of dirt two feet away. Scuff marks formed twin gouges in the earth and a single shoe lay near the pulverised frame.

  She vaulted both and entered the rear alley. Weeds and thorns choked the narrow passage. At the far end, a discarded shopping trolley lay on its side, one of the twisted wheels spinning in the air. Many of the weeds and sprawling brambles were beaten and broken, forming a clear trail to the opening where the alley met the street.

  Rounding the corner, she saw a blue car parked on the far side of the road, engine idling. Twenty feet away, kicking, shouting and biting, was Jordan.

  She screamed his name as a cluster of men bundled him into the car.

  Bursting free of the alley, she darted into the road.

  A dark shape sprang up from her right side, charging into her and knocking her flat. As the tarmac rushed up to meet her, Lenina slammed her hands down, but her head still knocked the road surface hard enough to bring stars to her eyes.

  When she looked up, Luke stood above her. He grinned and punched her across the face. Blood spurted into her mouth. A second punch brought a loud crack from her jaw. ‘I never did like you,’ he muttered. ‘Darryl seemed to think you were something special but I’ve no problem killing you. Do you want to die today, Lenina?’

  Pain raced through her face, spiralling out from her jaw until her vision blurred. She felt sick and fought the urge to vomit. ‘Jordan . . .’

  ‘—is no longer someone you need worry about. We’ll take good care of him. At least until we pass him over. This is how it should be done. None of this molly-coddling hostages Darryl was so fond of.’ He crouched beside her. ‘It’s incredible; all these years of waiting for a chance to fight him and he’s lost before I could get near him. No matter, I’ll still enjoy killing him, whether it’s a fight for leadership or just for fun.’

  ‘You can’t do this.’

  ‘Oh, please,’ he scoffed. A gesture to the car sent it speeding away.

  Lenina scrambled up but Luke swept her feet from beneath her and sat astride her stomach, closing one hand about her throat. The other, gathered up her wrists and pinned them to the ground above her head. While she struggled, he tightened his grip and did . . . something.

  She felt the bones of his hand shift and lengthen, stretching with loud pops like someone cracking gum. Four sharp points scraped the thin skin beneath her ear.

  ‘Go on, blood sucker, give me an excuse to shower my face with blood.’

  She froze. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Me? I’m going home. I need to tell the Grandfathers that Darryl betrayed us and that I’m taking his place.’

  ‘But Jordan. What are you doing with my brother?’

  ‘Nothing, though I’m sure Kallisto has other ideas. She’s very disappointed in you, by the way. All that searching for the Vessel and you turned out more disappointing than the man himself.’

  She kicked again but Luke rode her body like a rancher on a bronco.

  ‘But Saar had two children. Try and try again, they say. I’ll bet your brother will make a far more pliable and obedient Vessel than you ever did.’

  ‘Why?’ She thrashed against him. ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘Because now I have a Majestic on my side. You didn’t think my ambition stopped at the Bright Moon Clan, did you?’ He snorted. ‘Silly girl.’

  A howl split the air, answered immediately by the chorus of an angry canine choir.

  Luke jerked upright then growled, a sound all the more horrific for coming from a human mouth. As he stared, the bright gold colour began to seep into his eyes. Fur sprouted from the backs of his hands and loud tearing sounds signalled his morphing muscles splitting the seams of his expensive suit.

  Clear fluid with the consistency of glue seeped through his clothes. It dribbled down his face as his jaw cracked and stretched. Several foul tasting drops slid into Lenina’s mouth. She gagged and tried to roll free, but his shifting weight prevented more than an impotent squirm.

  Seconds later, a wolf stood above her, large as a pony with smooth black fur and patches of white fur across the face and left flank. The beast lowered its head and bayed in her face, ribbons of drool flying free of the heavily fanged maw.

  Lenina shoved against its legs, chopping down with one hand against the knee.

  Yelping, the wolf sprang aside, then quickly rounded for another attack.

  She scooted away on her rear until clear enough to take her feet.

  Luke followed, matching her every move with a step of his own.

  Another howl.

  Many of the wolves stopped. Glanced at Luke. Some dropped to their bellies, others rolled onto their backs to expose their throats.

  From the end of the road a new wolf approached, larger than the rest with thick black fur and angry yellow eyes. Even from a distance Lenina knew it was Darryl. She felt a surge of hope.

  Luke ran at once, tail tucked low. He barked as he went, calling indecipherable orders to the other wolves. Those still standing followed at once, but those in submissive poses didn’t move. Three more darted out of a house on the left, an
d Lenina recognised the entrance to their commandeered accommodation.

  Darryl tossed back his head and howled again, a single haunting note. The wolves on their bellies raised their heads and joined him, a beautiful harmony that chilled the blood. When he led the charge, they followed, rushing after Luke and the other departing wolves as well as the few god-touched unlucky enough to be caught in their sights.

  Seconds later, Ray dashed into the street. ‘Chuck, are you all right?’

  ‘They took Jordan!’ She ran to meet him. ‘Blue car, two minutes ago. Luke—Kallisto sent him—she’s going to Kiss him—another Vessel.’

  Until that moment Lenina had never seen real fear in her father’s face. Its sudden appearance made her want to sit, but the nervous need to act prevented her doing so. ‘Dad? What are we going to do? Do you know where he is?’

  ‘No.’ Even his voice trembled.

  ‘But you have to. They’re going to Kiss him. We have to stop them. Please Dad, can’t you track him or something?’

  ‘I’m not a GPS, Chuck.’

  Lenina felt cold all over. Only when he pulled at her arm did she realise that she had indeed dropped to her knees. ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘Find him,’ Ray snapped.

  She blinked away tears. ‘You just said you don’t know where he is.’

  ‘I don’t. But I know where he’s going.’ Ray looked at her, expression grim, hands curled into trembling fists. ‘He’ll be with Kallisto . . . and I can find her whenever I want.’

  <<<<>>>>

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  More By Ileandra Young

  Saar’s Legacy, Egyptian Vampire Trilogy

  Experience the friendship, love, betrayal, fury and lust from start to finish:

  Silk Over Razor Blades

  Walking The Razor’s Edge

  On A Knife Point – Out Spring 2016

  Dead And Alive, Season One

  Here begins a multi-season paranormal thriller following Diavian Hatara, Kailah Turner and Michael Garran.

  Episode One: Reunion

  Episode Two: Date Night

  Episode Three: Target Beta

  Episode Four: Resistance – Out February 2016

  Episode Five: Answers – Out April 2016

  Episode Six: Crossroads – Out June 2016

  More books coming soon . . .

  Author’s Note

  Hi everyone, Ileandra here ^_^

  Thank you so much for reading.

  If you want more, the best way to stay abreast of news regarding the rest of the trilogy and other releases is to sign up for my newsletter.

  I send it out once a quarter and keep subscribers well informed of how the Saar’s Legacy project is progressing. I also give subscribers regular freebies (such as short stories and discount codes).

  Sound good? I hope so.

  If you have the time, I’d be eternally thankful if you’d write a review. Reviews help me know what you like and what you don’t, all the better to make the novels that follow as awesome as they can be.

  About Ileandra Young

  Ileandra Young is one face of the Da Shared Brain who writes erotica and romance as Raven ShadowHawk.

  Ileandra enjoys writing fantasy (both urban and traditional) and aspires one day to write a piece so long (and therefore thick) that the book would form a good self-defence weapon in the hands of a fan (even been hit by War and Peace? It hurts!).

  Her interests include reading large books (see above), roller derby, and gently correcting people who believe that vampires should sparkle.

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  Acknowledgements & Thanks

  Special thanks to Lisa French, your comments made me laugh a whole heap while I worked through the edits on this offering.

  Not only that, but you opened my eyes to a couple of problems that I otherwise wouldn’t have spotted. Cheers ears!

  Saar’s Legacy: Book Two

  Walking The Razor’s Edge

  Published in December 2015 by Little Vamp Press

  Amazon Edition

  ASIN: B018PXW0A6

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, printing and subsequent photocopying or otherwise, it is intended for the use of the purchaser only.

  Basically, thank you and well done if you went out there and spent a few pennies to buy this fine example of modern literature. If you’ve come to this book through nefarious means then feel just a tiny bit guilty. Go on. You’re cutting into my chocolate fund.

  All characters and words the work of Ileandra Young.

  All characters, locations, names or incidents appearing in this work are fictitious and a product of the author’s overactive and slightly crazed imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living, dead, vampire, ghost, zombie, lycanthrope, faerie or daemon is purely coincidental. Promise.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Copyright © Ileandra Young 2015