Unturned- The Complete Series

by Rob Cornell

  I felt the lump of the handgun Sly had passed me against the small of my back. A hollow comfort. There would be no quick draws here.

  Goulet came into the classroom, his glamour dropped entirely. His wrinkled and fangy face was a darker gray than I'd seen on most vamps. His age had started to warp his features, turning his face into a leathery cowl over his skull.

  Fiona followed in behind him. I curled my lip at the sight of her. My stomach tumbled and burned as if I'd thrown back too many shots of whiskey. I wanted to puke right at her feet.

  She looked at me with pleading eyes. That only made me more sick.

  Goulet tsked. "Don't look so glum, Sebastian. You are on the precipice of a new...life." He tilted his head toward Mom. "And close to having all your questions answered."

  "If you think you're going to turn me, you can go stake yourself."

  One corner of his shriveled mouth curled up. "You are going to turn, Sebastian. There is no use fighting."

  Then his eyes flared a deeper red. I couldn't keep myself from staring into them. They drew my gaze like the gravitational pull of a black hole, with as welcoming a void at the center.

  "Come to me, Sebastian."

  Unlike when he was talking to my magical projection, his words burrowed straight to the center of my skull. My skin turned to a cold glaze over my muscles. I felt my foot step forward as if it belonged to someone else. I couldn't stop myself, no matter how hard I concentrated.

  I took another step.

  "Fight it," Sly growled. "Don't let him win this."

  I swallowed hard and tried to do what he said, but Goulet's red stare continued to draw me in. The echo of his command vibrated through my muscles. I had no choice but to obey.

  I crossed the room, feeling all the eyes on me as I went.

  "Good," Goulet said.

  When I reached him, he moved in close as if he meant to kiss me. But he turned his head and looked at my neck. I guess he meant to turn me right there, in front of everyone. The thought of my mom having to watch that burned me. But I still couldn't fight his thrall. The effectiveness startled me, but I guess it shouldn’t have. I still had vampire blood in me. In fact, I thought I could feel it boiling in my veins, aroused by Goulet's call.

  He reached up and pulled the collar of my shirt aside. Then his fingers traced the scar left behind by the vamp who had bit me in the first place, starting this whole unturned nightmare I'd been living since.

  His touch made the scar tingle not too unlike the feel of a lover's first touch. Which grossed me out more than anything else up to this point.

  But thinking about lovers made me think about Fiona.

  I couldn't turn my head, but I could see her from the corner of my eye. Her face was pinched as she stared toward Goulet and me.

  "I hope you're enjoying this, Fiona."

  She choked out a short gasp. She didn't say anything, though. Which was good. I didn't want to hear her excuses. I didn't want to hear her voice ever again.

  Goulet ran his yellow nails down my cheek. "Shh. All of that mortal drama will soon be behind you."

  He looked up from me to one of his vamp lackeys. "Take the sorceress out to the car."

  A spiked ball caught in my throat. Blazing heat crackled over my skin.

  Fiona lurched toward Goulet. "You promised me you would leave her alone."

  "Sorry, love. It isn't up to me."

  Not up to him? Did that mean there was another master behind all of this beyond him? The mayor? An even older vamp?

  "But you...promised." Fiona's voice trickled to a pathetic simpering whisper. Making deals with vamps. She should have fucking known better.

  One of the vamps moved toward Mom.

  Sly lifted the shotgun and swung it around, barrel aimed at the approaching vamp. "Not on your life."

  Goulet laughed. "Do you want to be responsible for her death, alchemist?"

  Sly's jaw bulged as he clenched his teeth. But he slowly lowered the barrel. He did not relinquish the weapon, though.

  Goulet and his over-dressed goons didn't seem at all bothered. They had this situation under control.

  The vamp grabbed Mom by the arm and pulled her roughly toward the door.

  "You go easy on her, you son of a devil," I pushed through my clenched teeth.

  "Please, Renfrew," Goulet said to the vamp. "She's an important asset to our designs. Go easy on her as our brother here suggests."

  The vamp guided Mom out of the room with exaggerated care.

  I couldn't piece any of this together. What could they possibly want with her? I had little doubt this all had to do with what had happened to her and Dad, but that tiny shred of info didn't amount to much in stitching together the rest of this.

  "I can hear the whispers of your thoughts, Sebastian. Don't worry. All will become clear soon."

  He took me by the elbow and led me toward the door, and I went along with him as if we were best buds on our way out to the bar.

  As we passed through the doorway, Goulet called over his shoulder, "Kill them."

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  I heard the shouts of a few of the Maidens echo behind me, throwing words out in that strange demonic tongue Wendy had spoken in. A wave of slick, oily magical energy burst out from the room like a tidal wave. Shortly after, gunfire swallowed all other sound.

  I cringed, but couldn't stop my march alongside Goulet.

  He smiled and put his dark gray face inches from my own. "Relax," he whispered. "You'll be at peace in a moment."

  He led me back through the gym and out to the parking lot. Two vehicles were parked close to the building, a stretch limo and another one of those damn black vans.

  “Where's my mom?" I asked.

  He nodded toward the van. "She has another fate."

  "What fate?"

  But he didn't answer. He took me to the limo and we climbed into the back. It was spacious to say the least. Two large bench seats faced each other. The interior all black leather. It had the requisite mini-fridge. An urn to ice champagne sat next to the fridge. But despite all the shiny frills, the inside smelled like wet, worm-ridden dirt.

  We sat together like a couple on their way to prom. While I wasn't under my own control, everything inside me belonged entirely to me, and that included the growing disgust that had left my stomach and now poisoned my entire bloodstream.

  He held out his hand, palm up. His nails were at least two inches long and cracked at the ends.

  "Give me your hand."

  I put my hand in his without hesitation. My body had completely betrayed me. I tried to draw flame into my hand, give him one hell of a blazing handshake, motherfucker.

  Would have been a beautiful sight, but I couldn't do it.

  "You are a powerful beast," Goulet said. "I can feel the struggle in you. Believe it or not, I have to work hard to keep you enthralled."

  He stroked the back of my hand, then clasped it down so my hand was sandwiched between both of his. His skin felt as cold as sheet metal left out in the winter air, and surprisingly soft.

  "My scholars tell me your mixed blood could make a drinker quite powerful, at least for a while. Of course, there's no precedent for your...condition."

  "The second you turn me," I said. "I'm going to rip out your throat."

  He laughed. "You'll be even more easy to control when you are my child. My throat will remain intact, I'm afraid."

  I gritted my teeth. "Why do you want my Mom?"

  "All these questions. I'll tell you all. I already promised that." He released my hand. "Take off your shirt."

  I shrugged off my coat and pulled my shirt off over my head. The whole time my skin shrank against me, the only physical hint that I was trying to fight his influence.

  "Lean forward," he said.

  I obeyed.

  He traced my brand with those disgusting fingernails. "Amazing."

  He scooted closer to me. The tiny clink of the watch chain hanging across his vest drew my
attention. My face burned. The fucker had no right to carry that watch.

  Goulet noticed me looking at the chain. He drew the watch out of his pocket. His skin sizzled, and wisps of smoke rose from where he touched the silver. He didn't show any sign of discomfort. But I thought I felt a little give to his thrall. Not enough to bust loose, but I could move a little more freely, not pinned down like a plastic mannequin.

  "This belonged to your father, no?"

  "You have no right to hold that."

  "No. I don't. And yet, here I am."

  He flipped the watch open and studied its face. "Midnight. A perfect time to turn."

  I tried to gather flame again. I felt like I was trying to squeeze an elephant through the eye of a needle. I thought some warmth gathered in my hand. If I could just—

  Goulet snapped the watch closed and tucked it back in his pocket. His eyes flashed red and his thrall clamped down on me like a set of metal jaws.

  "There's no power left in the watch. A pity. Your father was a powerful sorcerer. The magic in his trinket was probably the last of his power in existence."

  I'd not thought about it exactly like that, but he wasn't wrong. I had snuffed out the last of my father's magical light by draining the watch. Granted, I'd be dead if I hadn't, but that didn't make me feel any better about it.

  "Did you kill him?" I asked. It didn't make much sense, but he seemed to know an awful lot about Dad.

  "Not I. However, I was there when he was struck down."

  My stomach leaped into my throat. I coughed while my lungs seemed to go flat, all my breath vacuumed out of them.

  "Who killed him?"

  "Another very, very powerful sorcerer," he said. "But it's best I bring you into the family now. You'll handle the news better when you're undead."

  I grunted, trying so hard to break the thrall.

  Goulet's red eyes glowed brighter. His eyebrows lifted. "Wow. You are going to make a hell of a demon." He laughed, then gripped me behind the neck and drew me to him.

  I looked down at my father's watch chain. A swirl of emotion and memory raced through me, riding the waves of my adrenaline.

  As I felt Goulet's carrion-scented breath against my throat, I dug down to the core of my power, straight down to the barrier the brand had put between me and the magic necessary to fight the vampire blood already infecting me.

  Goulet's teeth sunk into my flesh. The stabbing pain lasted only an instant. Then a refreshing cold washed through me. I shuddered as I felt myself aroused by his vampiric toxin.

  For the gods' sake, Sebastian. Snap out of this.

  Blood spilled away from Goulet's sucking lips. Warm runnels tickled their way down my neck and patted droplets into my lap.

  I concentrated on my father's watch. I knew there wasn't any power in it, but the sight of it stirred something in me. The rage it inspired allowed me to burrow down into my magic more quickly. When I hit bottom, I tried to focus it all and, instead of trying to make fire, I filled my mind with the power, trying to form it into psychic energy. I had no experience with that kind of magic, but I couldn't think of any other way to break free from his thrall.

  He pulled away from me. My blood ringed his mouth like clown makeup. Though he was scarier than even Pennywise.

  "Now it's your turn, my child." He raised his wrist to his mouth and chewed into it. It wasn't long before my blood on his mouth and his own became indistinguishable.

  I pulled more and more of my magic into my mind, trying to set up a psychic barrier. I continued to glance down toward my father's watch. The emotion it awoke in me fed the energy I was able to draw.

  Goulet held out his gashed wrist to me, the edges of his shirt and suit’s cuffs stained with blood.

  I wanted to close off my mind right then, but I had to put as much of my magic behind the mental wall as possible. I didn’t know how much I would need to break the thrall, or even if I could break it. But I did know I would only get one chance to pull it off.

  So I held back.

  "Drink," he said.

  I bent my head toward the gushing wound, my mouth opened.

  Dad, if you're somewhere out there, please help me make this work.

  I don't know if his spirit actually heard, or if it was just another pulse of emotion, but I felt my gathering power nearly double.

  I threw up the psychic barrier with my lips mere inches from Goulet's blood.

  I felt his thrall snap as if I had slammed a door down on it.

  I sensed Goulet stiffen beside me. He felt the cut as well.

  I used that instant of surprise to reach behind me, draw the gun Sly had hooked me up with, and started shooting.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  At such close range, my first shot threw Goulet back against his seat. But I didn't stop there. I fired and fired until the magazine was empty and the slide locked back.

  Each round in his chest had blown a sizable hole, but then his vampire flesh reacted to the silver and the wounds grew larger as they popped and sizzled. The limo filled with the smell of burning rot. My throat closed and my stomach lurched.

  Goulet stared at me, eyes a little wide as if I'd given him surprise news instead of twelve rounds of silver into his chest. He licked his lips. "I guess they were right," he said. "I should have killed you."

  A spark sent a chill up my spine. "Who's they? They mayor?"

  “The mayor?” He laughed even as he cringed. “He’s a pawn, and he doesn’t even know it.”

  “Then who’s behind all this?”

  He raised a hand and gestured weakly toward the mini fridge. "There are packets of blood in there." He coughed and blood sprayed from his mouth, which was still covered with my blood and his from his wrist. His wounds continued to expand as if each had come from a dollop of acid instead of bullets. The smoke from the wounds created a thin haze in the close quarters. Between the sight of the silver eating him alive—or undead—and the stink, I nearly retched.

  But I needed answers more than fresh air.

  "The blood," Goulet said.

  I tossed aside my empty gun and opened the fridge. Sure enough, a half-dozen packets of blood like you'd find hanging from an IV lay on the top shelf.

  I took one out.

  "This is going to be enough to heal you?"

  "All..of it." Another burst of coughing shook his body. I could now see a glimpse of his rib cage on one side through the expanding wounds. He wouldn't last long without the blood.

  "Give…me…and I'll…answer."

  I held the blood packet out to him, but well out of his limp reach. He flapped his hand at the packet anyway.

  "I'll give it to you once you tell me who you're working for and what they want with my mother."

  He shook his head. "You can't let me die."

  "Sure I can," I said. "The Ministry will probably make me rich for doing them the favor, too."

  He laughed, pushing more blood over his bottom lip. "I doubt that."

  My gaze fell to the chain of my father's watch. Luckily, I hadn't hit it with a stray shot. But the chain was tarnished with his smoking guts now.

  I clenched my teeth. "Tell me what happened to my dad. Who killed him? Why?"

  Goulet's chest caved in. The edges of the various openings, ringed with pus and blackened blood, had merged to form a single, larger hole nearly the size of his entire torso. His gore covered breast bone showed through, but even that had started to deteriorate.

  "If you let me die," he said, "you will set off the largest supernatural war this city has ever seen."

  "Tell me what happened to my dad and I'll give you your damn blood."

  His breast bone had turned to wet powder and I could now see his black heart. I doubted any blood I gave to him would save him now. He was too far gone, and if I didn't get answers out of him now—

  He twitched, coughed. Blood sprayed the ceiling of the limo. I felt some speckle my cheek. It was as hot as grease snapping off a flattop grill.

 
"Tell me," I shouted. My throat went raw. I nearly choked on my own rage.

  Goulet sputtered a few more times, then his mouth fell open and black blood oozed off his bottom jaw and down his chin. He went still.

  The sizzling and melting stopped. Then his dark heart suddenly caught flame. The flash of fire lasted a second or two, then Goulet burst into dust. A fog of ash plumed in the limo, coated the nearby window, the seat, and my sweaty face.

  There sat my chance at answers, a pile of dust in the back of a stretch limo.

  I threw back my head and about bayed like a werewolf.

  A glint of something in the vampire dust caught my eye. I sifted through the chalky substance and pulled my father's pocket watch out of the mess. Most things vampires carried on their person when they turned to dust became dust with them. Maybe some bit of enchantment remained in the watch to protect it. I didn't care. I was just glad to have it back.

  Clutching the watch in my hand, I climbed out of the limo, then headed straight for the black van.

  The vamp in there with my mom must not have been paying attention, probably thought they had already won. He didn't see me coming, didn't even know I was there until I rolled the side door wide.

  I didn't have a gun, and all that power I had gathered to fight off Goulet's thrall had left me drained. So getting the drop on the vamp didn't amount to much when I had no good way to attack him. My anger and adrenaline had pushed me forward without a plan.

  But I felt a little buzz at the back of my mind, like a psychic nudge from my subconscious. A weird way to describe it, but I couldn't think of anything better.

  No matter what it was, it made me realize I had made a rash assumption. My battle with Goulet hadn't drained me. In fact, I felt a swell of power I'd not felt in a long time.

  Not since I’d been branded.

  The realization took a second, long enough for the vamp sitting next to Mom on the van’s bench seat to raise the Uzi in his hands. But not long enough for him to pull the trigger.

  I harnessed the wind, swirled a gust around behind him, then pulled the gust out, carrying the vamp with it.