Thomas dodged the stake but tripped over the junkie’s foot. He tumbled to the ground, and the vampire leapt on top of him. They wrestled between two felled junkies, the ground slick with drying blood. While the junkie was the same size as Thomas, the junkie was significantly stronger and desperately trying to stab him with the hawthorn stake. He dodged once, then twice, rolling beneath the vampire and into a corpse. On the third strike, he barely managed to avoid the wooden stake from puncturing his head.
As Thomas tired physically, his emotions felt more volatile. The beast inside him still fought for control, to return to the frenzied state of drinking blood straight from the source. To feel the exhilaration again. His inner fight was exhausting him, and paired with his flaring chest pain, concentrating on dodging physical blows was growing more difficult. He—someone called his name. Sara. He tried to sit up and look for her.
The junkie’s hawthorn stake sunk deep into his stomach. Thomas grunted and fell flat on his back.
Sneering, the blood junkie pulled another small stake from his pocket. “Can’t escape now, you little—”
Something Sara-like bulldozed the blood junkie down, his threat lost in a deep grunt. Sara knelt on his chest, placed her hands on either side of his head, and twisted. The junkie’s head separated from his body with an elongated squelch. Sara tossed the head aside, and it rolled several feet away, leaving grotesque blood prints from the separated veins and arteries. Blood spurted from the body’s neck, the heart still beating. Sara ripped the small stake from the junkie’s hand and drove it through the vampire’s side and into its heart. Blood stopped spewing and pooled beneath the body.
More pain jolted through Thomas’ stomach as the stake was wrenched from his organs. He groaned, not sure when Sara had approached him, and watched her through squinted eyes as she attacked another blood junkie with the stake. The last junkie.
Thomas gripped the hole in his stomach, wet blood moistening the dried blood on his fingertips. The burning was impossible to ignore. Sara must have finished off the last blood junkie because she bent down in front of him, tear tracks forging glittering paths through the dirt and grime on her face.
“Thomas, are you okay?”
“Ernest. Lawrence,” Thomas groaned through clenched teeth.
Sara nodded curtly and stood up.
Lawrence was losing. Ernest’s hawthorn cane was broken off in Lawrence’s arm, slowing him down. Before he could prepare, Ernest kicked him into a distant pile of trash bags. Thomas watched with bated breath, waiting for Lawrence to stand. He struggled but couldn’t lift himself from the ground. After a few attempts, he stopped struggling and sunk into the trash bags, tugging on the broken cane in his arm.
Ernest staggered, a thick spike sticking through his chest and out his back. He gripped the wooden spike and wrenched it out as Sara attacked. He grabbed her arms, twisting her around his body and tossing her into the trash bags next to her husband. The wooden stake from Ernest’s chest was lodged in her shoulder.
No—they couldn’t all die. Not Julia. Not Sara. Not Lawrence. In Thomas’ anguish, the vampire beast was completely released.
A source of inhuman energy surged into his body.
Ernest wouldn’t take Lawrence, too.
This was no longer about protecting ideals or revenge for Julia. It was about protecting his family. He let go of the repulsion he felt for his monstrous side, at least for this moment—Julia had died believing in moments, and in this moment, Lawrence needed him. He had to stop fighting who he was.
Thomas didn’t have time to think about his next move as he rushed toward Ernest, but it didn’t matter. Thomas wasn’t in control. The beast inside of him was.
Thomas coiled, readying to spring, then soared through the air. He landed on Ernest’s back, spit flying. Ernest yelled in surprise as Thomas clung to him, but he didn’t have time to react. Thomas sank his fangs into the base of Ernest’s neck, sweaty skin mashed against his gums. He clamped his jaw until it burned in his cheeks and along his gums. He pressed harder, fueled by his victim’s screams and struggle.
Ernest tore at Thomas’ back, pummeled his head repeatedly, but nothing would shake him. Ernest’s shouts evolved from pain to frustration.
“Die,” Ernest screeched as he grabbed at Thomas’ head.
In the cloudy recesses of his mind, Thomas thought he heard Lawrence chuckle.
“My sentiments exactly.”
Lawrence stood in front of them, the broken piece of cane in his hand. He held the lethal shaft in both hands and swung back, prepping for the blow.
“No,” Ernest shouted, releasing Thomas’ head. Thomas, just as quickly, latched onto Ernest’s hands.
“This might hurt, kid,” Lawrence said, driving the shaft all the way through Ernest’s torso, demolishing his heart.
Thomas grunted as the tip of the stake pierced his own skin and lodged in his sternum. At that contact, the beast inside of him vanished. Pain overwhelmed him and he went slack, tumbling to the cement with Ernest.
Sara stumbled over to them and pulled Thomas out from under Ernest’s body. The stake was gone from her shoulder, leaving a bloodied gash in her flesh and clothes.
“Thomas? Thomas, are you alright?” she asked, running her hands frantically over the bleeding hole in his chest.
“He’ll be fine,” Lawrence said, impassive as he bent over and lifted Thomas to his feet.
Thomas’ head spun, but he kept his balance. Ernest was dead. His blood junkies were dead.
Julia was dead.
Thomas met Lawrence’s eyes, unable to process his thoughts.
“I couldn’t lose you, too,” he said, his voice cracking.
Lawrence and Sara Foxe broke into tears. They pulled him in close, hugging him with strength only a curse could give. Thomas let them hold him, their tears smudging against his face.
“You did good, kid.”
17 Moving Forward
Thomas sat outside Artemis’ apartment door, his head bowed and knees drawn to his chest. He didn’t know where else to go, but the threshold barred him from entry. Slow, heavy footsteps dragged along the walkway around the side of the house. The steps used to be shorter, lighter. How could he have let this happen to Artemis? Her own brother, taken away from her and his humanity ripped from him.
Artemis cried out when she saw Thomas. Her quickened steps rattled as she descended the stairs, the scent of spices and lavender stronger than normal. It was the first time Thomas had seen her in days—since he’d turned Sean.
Closing and wiping her eyes for a moment, Artemis steadied herself and unlocked the door above Thomas’ head. She grabbed his hand, leading him into her apartment with a soft “come in” to break the threshold magic. Her hand was a little warm, and Thomas kept himself from gripping tighter, from absorbing her warmth.
Her curls were extra unruly and her face gaunt. When was the last time she’d slept?
Artemis dropped his hand as she climbed onto her bed and rested her head in the crook of her arm. She watched him as he sat on the floor, resuming his position from outside her apartment. Like they’d done a thousand times before, Artemis waited for Thomas to speak, waited for him to find the strength to confess his feelings.
“It . . . was a beautiful service.” The cuffs on his long sleeve shirt were stiff and too long. He flattened one against his wrist and released a half sob, half laugh. “That was a lie. It was terrible. It’s hard to have a good service when vampires can’t get near a church. I can’t remember half of it. It’s like my mind is trying to wake me and tell me this is all a bad dream. The Boston Boys took care of Al and Charles. Bob has a family plot somewhere out of Plymouth. They wanted to wait for Vivian, but no one has seen her. We looked, but—”
Artemis’ gentle fingers ran through Thomas’ hair. He tensed at her touch. In the past, the gesture would have helped him relax. Now, her fingers were warm and blood pumped softly through her wrist over his head. He buried his face into his palms,
and his shoulders shook as he refused to cry.
“Part of me didn’t want to find her, to be honest. Part of me blames her for what happened. Hell, usually it’s all of me.”
Thomas stared into Artemis’ wide blue eyes. She was listening, so he kept talking.
“When I think that if she’d just waited for Lawrence to get back, if she’d just relied on us a little, then Julia would be alive and Sean wouldn’t be—” Thomas’ voice disappeared. He swallowed. “I just want her to stay gone. I want her to die. And I hate it.”
“You are not responsible for being caught up in the actions of others, Thomas. Do you hear me? It doesn’t work like that. You were a victim. We all were,” Artemis said, doing her best to sound confident despite the tears welling in the corner of her eyes. They made the blue shine brighter. “And, and for what it’s worth, I don’t blame you, Thomas. No one does. In fact, in my own way, I’m grateful for what you did because, because—” Artemis swallowed. She stared harder at Thomas, her tears threatening to overflow. “Because thanks to you I still have my brother.”
Thomas didn’t want to hear more, but he couldn’t look away from the watery blue.
“Ever since I turned Sean, I feel like I haven’t been myself. I can feel it, this beast inside, watching me from behind my own eyes. It never sleeps, and I feel like if I dwell on those feelings, I’ll be sucked in and lose myself. I can’t forget the taste of fresh blood. The warmth, the power, the rush. The memory of it is inside of me, tearing at me from the inside. What if I can’t control it? What if I lose? I had this one moment of control, but now . . . Julia was wrong. The curse can turn us into monsters. I turned into a monster when I bit Sean. I probably shouldn’t be here now; I don’t want to put you at risk.”
The threshold magic existed for a reason: to protect humans. Artemis should never have let him in. Her neck quivered as blood pumped from her heart into her brain and back through the jugular veins and carotid arteries. The skin above them was thin and didn’t hide her blood’s scent or warmth. All Thomas had to do was move onto one knee and her slim neck would be in reach. His hand trembled as the beast inside willed him to reach out to her, to touch her smooth skin. To bring her closer to him. He craved the feeling of ecstasy he’d felt biting into Sean’s neck. Artemis could give him strength, power, pain, pleasure. She—
A warm weight rested on his palm. One by one, Artemis slipped her fingers between his. Once their fingers interlocked, Artemis pulled Thomas to his feet.
“Forces beyond our control conspired to put us through this nightmare, but we survived. A terrible price was paid, but we’re here now. Including you,” Artemis whispered. Her words were hesitant, as if she were searching to understand her own turbulent feelings. Her heart beat faster, tempting Thomas further. “Maybe you’ve come out scarred, and maybe you’re afraid of what you might become, but the way I see it you saved Sean’s life and that’s all that matters.”
Thomas closed his eyes, desperate to not hear her heartbeat any longer. “Even if it’s now the life of a monster?”
Wrapping her arms around Thomas, Artemis drew him into a tight, fierce hug that surprised him almost as much as her words.
“Sean isn’t a monster, and neither are you. For all this weird, new life you’re living, you’re still a part of humanity. No matter what the future brings, I promise we’ll be right at your side to remind you of that, okay?”
“Don’t let go,” he begged her. She had to let go, but he needed her support. It was all he had left. She pulled him closer, her neck only inches away from his face now. His fangs protruded, and he clenched his jaw shut.
“I won’t.”
They held the embrace for what felt like hours. Thomas needed her support and everlasting friendship. The beast inside needed her warmth and blood. His conflicted urges made him hold on tighter.
“What if we can fix this, Artemis?” Thomas whispered. Artemis released him in surprise.
“Fix what?”
“I got a little sidetracked, but now I know there is no living with this.”
“Thomas, what are you talking about?” Artemis asked, touching his face in concern.
He would put down the beast inside him. Release himself from hurting anyone else. Find freedom for both him and Sean.
“Artemis, we have to break the curse. We need to find the cure. This time, I won’t make you do all the research.”
THE END
To My Readers
Thank you for reading Shadows of Colesbrooke. I loved working on it, and I hope you loved reading it just as much. Thank you for giving a new author a chance and a read.
Authors survive because of people like you, especially when you write a review. So please, help out a new author out and write a review. It doesn’t have to be long—just be honest and let others know about my book.
Want more? The Children of Kaespars series is on its way! Book Two, Moonlight Woods, is nearly ready for release and will be available shortly. For updates on its release and the other books in Children of Kaespars, follow me on social media or subscribe to my website or newsletter.
Thank you for your support and readership!
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Acknowledgements
I would like to express my utmost appreciation for the teams at Book Development Resources who helped shape Shadows of Colesbrooke—from the brainstorming stages all the way through preparing for publication. Without them, I couldn’t have gotten this far. Thank you for the countless hours you spent working with me and my book.
Also, I would like to thank those in the future who will continue to support my writing through faithful readership and helpful feedback. Without people like you, we wouldn’t be able to keep writing and sharing our work with you.
About the Author
Brandy I. Timmons is a Canadian writer obsessed with the supernatural. Captivated by the interactions of humans, vampires, werewolves, and other supernatural creatures, Brandy seeks to weave new worlds and characters who question humanity and life. She spends her non-writing time daydreaming and reading.
Book Summary
Resident physician Thomas Spencer always knew something was strange about Colesbrooke—he’d witnessed it in the operating room. When he’s attacked and wakes up thirsting for human blood, Thomas discovers an underground world of supernatural magic and hate.
As war between two rival vampire gangs erupts and threatens to destroy the city, Thomas’ medical training becomes vital to the war effort. It also endangers himself and his human friends. Torn between saving lives and protecting those he loves, Thomas must discover his new place in the world and avoid succumbing to the effects of the vampire curse.
The first installment of the Children of Kaespars series, Shadows of Colesbrooke, is a gripping adventure that kicks off a quest for humanity, fulfillment, partnership, and a cure.
Children of Kaespars
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting more. We will figure this out. Not just you. Not just me. All of us. Together. And if we don’t find a cure for another fifty years, at least we’ll have each other.”
When Thomas Spencer is wrenched into the supernatural world, everything changes for his best friends. As they adjust to new lives, they begin to question what it means to be human.
Not everyone is satisfied. Meeting and dating new people only teaches them the supernatural world isn’t as marvelous as immortality claims. Some vampires and werewolves aren’t satisfied.
The desire for a cure sets them on a journey of science, magic, and danger that forces them to question their beliefs and morals. Not every answer is ethical, and each person must decide what they’re willing to sacrifice to be normal again.
Follow Thomas Spencer and his friends in the Children of Kaespars series as they discover the price of living.
Don’t Miss The Rest of The Series
Children of the Kaespars
Book 1 – Shadows of Colesbrooke
Book 2 – Moonlit Woods
Book 3 – Bloodstained Theory
Book 4 – Quest by Candlelight
Book 5 – Severed Ties
Shadows of Colesbrooke Page 27