The Complete Vampire Project Series: (Books 1 - 5)

by Jonathan Yanez

  Your best friend in the world,

  Edison Reeves the Younger

  It wasn’t finding his wife, but if Edison finally had answers to what had happened to him in Burrow Den, Aareth couldn’t pass the opportunity by.

  “Okay, lead the way, little man.” Aareth squatted down to look the gnome in the face. “Sorry about being so aggressive with you. It’s been a hard few days for me.”

  Elwood reached up and gently patted Aareth’s stubbly face. More gibberish escaped his lips, but his tone was comforting.

  Elwood turned his back, motioning Aareth to follow. The gnome and inspector traveled toward the cafe, staying on the sidewalk to avoid the bulk of the day’s traffic.

  Horses pulled carriages, vendors shouted their wares that ranged anywhere from fruit to shoes, and still Aareth’s thoughts wandered back to Brenda. Even in the face of finding answers as to what he was becoming, the image of his wife couldn’t be shaken.

  Luckily for Aareth, The Dogwood Café was only a few blocks from their current location. Elwood directed him to a brightly painted outside patio. A handful of tables and chairs made up the outside section of the café.

  Aareth searched the faces of the patrons seated at the tables, without finding the familiar face of his friend.

  Before he could ask Elwood, the gnome directed him to a table at the far end. It was in the corner, closest to café. Shade from the building’s roof draped the area in shadow.

  Aareth found himself sitting across from a woman in a light pink dress and a huge bonnet that covered her face. Two empty espresso cups sat on the table in front of her.

  “Don’t make a scene.” Edison’s voice came from somewhere deep within the bonnet. “We’re just two girls out for a morning espresso, or three.”

  “Edison, is that you?” Aareth leaned in to try to get a glimpse inside the bonnet. What he saw was horrifying.

  Edison Reeves had shaved his face and applied thick layers of makeup. Powder accented his cheekbones, bright red lipstick framed his mouth, blue eye shadow rounded out his new look. A scarf was wrapped around his Adam’s apple.

  “Yeah, great disguise, right?” Edison leaned down to Elwood. “Good job, Elwood. Mirror, if you please.”

  A moment later, Elwood conjured a mirror from behind his back.

  Edison accepted it, checking his image from all sides.

  “We’re being watched. Two meatheads by the ally across the street.” Edison handed the mirror back to Elwood. “Don’t look now. We’ll deal with them when we leave.”

  “Answers, Edison.” Aareth felt frustration build inside like a dam about to break. “You said you have answers.”

  “I do. How to say this gently…” Edison winced. “You’re screwed. Your biology is changing. The bite from the wolf has transformed you into something inhuman. The changes are already in effect; hence, your accelerated healing and the anger you feel. For some reason, the full change is still being held at bay, like it’s waiting for some trigger or signal to fully consume you.”

  Aareth sat, stunned. In all honesty, he had expected to be told something along these exact lines. It was just different now that he knew.

  Elwood shook his head in Edison’s direction.

  “What? I thought that was pretty gentle.” Edison shrugged. “He needs to know the truth.”

  “What about a cure?” Aareth asked.

  “Not that I can see, but this is all new to me. It’s not entirely out of the question.”

  “You said it was waiting inside me for something like a signal to be released?”

  “That’s right.” Edison breathed a heavy sigh. “I know that’s not helpful at all, since I can’t tell you what the trigger will be. I do know that whatever this bite changed you into is more animal than man. Until we figure this out, I think you should avoid the palace. The queen has ears everywhere. I trust her, but if she knew what you were, she’d want to hold you for observation.”

  “Thank you, Edison.” Aareth pulled himself back from being lost in his own thoughts. “I owe you one.”

  “That’s what friends are for.” Edison glanced at the two men watching them from the ally. “Elwood and I will distract our friends. I know things are rough, but on the bright side, the weather’s great, and it’s even supposed to be a full moon tonight.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Sloan

  Everything Sloan held dear: her morals, her mentors, her life—it was all lies. What do you do when your entire world crashes down around you?

  A numb emptiness filled Sloan from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head. Anger was definitely present, as well, but by far, she felt hollow inside. She walked from Livingston Industries with no particular path in mind.

  The midday sun shone down on her as it had thousands of times before, but this day was unlike any other. Everything was different.

  Sloan knew she should have taken both Doctor Livingston and Commander Brookhaven into custody. She hadn’t, because honestly, she didn’t even know what side she was on anymore.

  Within minutes of wandering, Sloan found herself outside of a restaurant sporting signs of grease-infused foods and salty calories. She walked into the establishment like a zombie.

  “Hello,” called an overly friendly hostess from behind her reception booth. She wore a bright red apron and tall, black heels. “Party of one?”

  Sloan nodded. She couldn’t even get a handle on her own feelings, much less summon the energy to deal with the wide-eyed hostess.

  “Follow me.”

  Sloan trailed in the wake of the worker, to a booth in the corner. She removed her sword before she sat down.

  “In the queen’s army, huh?” The girl passed her a menu. “Thank you for your service. The things the queen has done for New Hope have been amazing.”

  “Yep.” Sloan had finally found her voice. She accepted the menu, looking and wanting every single item on the list. “That’s one way to put it.”

  “Well, your server will be right with you. Can I start you off with something to drink?”

  Sloan flipped through the pages, scanning the brightly designed menu interior until her eyes landed on what she was searching for.

  “I need this.” Sloan pointed to a picture of a massive chocolate shake, complete with whipped cream and a cherry.

  “Oh … oh, okay.” The waitress nodded. “Been one of those days, huh?”

  “I need two of them, actually.” Sloan handed the waitress back the menu. “And the biggest basket of fries you have.”

  “Well, I usually just get the drinks. Your server will…”

  The girl’s words withered into oblivion under Sloan’s stare.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” she said as she turned to go.

  “Thank you.” Sloan drummed her fingers on the clean, granite tabletop.

  Her calories ordered, Sloan was already forming a plan. She wouldn’t be missed from the palace; her rank assured she answered to no one but the queen. Still, she had a day at most before the queen would request an audience to find out what she had discovered at Livingston Industries. What had she discovered? A zombie woman with an incredible story?

  Was Sloan going to throw everything away, just like that? Maybe she should talk to the queen, give her a chance to explain. Maybe she shouldn’t do anything until she had collected more information.

  “Here you go.” A young man with a name tag reading “Michael” stopped by her table with two massive chocolate shakes and a basket full of fries. He placed them down, looking sideways at Sloan. “Do you need utensils, or—”

  Sloan answered his question by grabbing a handful of the salt-laden fries, dipping them into her chocolate shake, then shoving them into her mouth.

  The flavor of salt-and-sweet exploded in her mouth like fireworks. For the briefest moment, Sloan was happy. She closed her eyes, enjoying the flavors, totally forgetting the young man was still at her table.

  “Okay, well, you enjoy. Let me know if yo
u need anything else.” Michael began to back away slowly as if any sudden movement would disturb Sloan.

  “I need a burger,” Sloan said, shoving another handful of chocolate-laden goodness into her mouth. “Make it to-go.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Sloan

  Sloan’s stomach felt like it was going to burst as she turned the last corner that would lead to her final destination. The top button to her pants had been loosened, the burger she’d ordered to-go still uneaten in a bag she held in her left hand.

  She had spent so long in the restaurant, and even longer now, strolling to a place she hadn’t visited in years, that the sun was setting and the full moon was slowly drifting upward.

  A pair of soldiers Sloan didn’t recognize passed on the opposite side of the street from her. They exchanged confused looks, but still offered her crisp salutes.

  In turn, Sloan only stared at them until they looked away. The smells from her childhood overwhelmed the smell of the cold burger in her bag. A bakery stood on the corner, its owner closing up for the night. A dry cleaners on the opposite end did the same.

  The scent of the two establishments combined, to make one of the best odors Sloan had ever smelt. In a way, it was the best part of her childhood. Bouncing around from orphanage to foster home to orphanage hadn’t been easy.

  As a child, she had never known her parents much less what a family was. The idea of people being related and caring for one another was as foreign to her as flying was to a fish.

  In a way, the army had been the closest thing to a family Sloan had ever known, the queen the most similar thing to a parent. Sloan stopped in front of a massive house with peeling white paint. She leaned against the ill-kept gate. Weeds dominated the yard. Lights that would have shone in every window a few years before were now dark.

  The orphanage sign was long gone, leaving a building abandoned to only the memory of what it had once represented. Sloan’s grip on the paper bag tightened as she was transported back in time to relive her childhood, like some kind of punishment.

  “Excuse me, mum.”

  A young girl’s voice broke Sloan out of her trance-like state. Sloan wasn’t sure how long she had been standing in front of the empty building—minutes, maybe; surely not an hour—but the sky was dark. The moon was full, huge and bright.

  “Yes?” Sloan looked the girl up and down. She couldn’t have been older than eight or nine. Her clothes were worn, but she was clean. “What is it?”

  “Did you live there?” The girl pointed to the dark orphanage. “I lived there for a time before it was shut down, and I was moved the Albright Orphanage down on Thirty-second Street.”

  “I did live there.” Sloan knelt down next to the girl. “That makes you and I sisters in a way.”

  “Oh, really?” The young girl’s face lit up. She smiled, showing two rows of crooked teeth. “My name’s Cherish.”

  “Cap—” Sloan caught herself. Was she still prepared to be a captain in the queen’s army after the events of the day? “My name’s Sloan.”

  “Sloan.” Cherish repeated the word with reverence. “You’re in the queen’s army, then? You must be so brave. I don’t think I could ever do that. Everyone says I’m not worth a damn.”

  Sloan wasn’t the motherly type, but something much like motherly instinct caused her to reach forward and place a hand on Cherish’s shoulder. The young girl flinched under her touch.

  “You decide how much you’re worth, Cherish.” Sloan looked deep into the girl’s dark brown eyes. “Not your friends, not your enemies. Every day you teach people how to treat you. People want to tell you what you can and can’t do, because that’s what they’ve told themselves in the mirror every morning. It’s easier to write something off as impossible, than to actually apply yourself day after day to accomplish that goal.”

  “You’re saying I can be like one of those heroes who rescued Burrow Den from the beast?” The girl’s eyes lit up as bright as the moon. “I heard one of them was the queen’s own guard. She fights like a goddess incarnate. Fire shoots from her sword, and no one knows her true name.”

  “Yes.” Sloan gave the girl’s arm a gentle squeeze before letting go. “I’m saying you can be just like her. You can be better than her. You should be getting along now, it’s late. Do you like burgers?”

  Cherish accepted the bag, gave Sloan a quick awkward hug, then ran down the street.

  Sloan was left alone for a moment. But just as thoughts that things would be all right had entered her mind, the screaming started.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Sloan

  As the bloodcurdling noise continued, it became less of a scream and more of a howl. It was coming from somewhere close.

  Bad day to binge eat and feel like a balloon, Sloan thought as she buckled her pants. Time to let some of this frustration out.

  Sloan ran down the cobblestone street. She made two rights around a large building that looked like some kind of clothing store. Her path brought her into a wide alley.

  There, her mind processed the events unfolding in front of her as fast as it raced to come up with a solution. The manic yells were coming from Aareth, hunched over double on her side of the alley. On the opposite end, a group of darkly dressed figures advanced.

  “Aareth! Aareth, what’s happening to you?” Sloan couldn’t even glance at her friend; the group of strangers were coming at them too fast. “Are you hurt?”

  Screams—no, howls—of pain ripped from Aareth’s throat. His body heaved on all fours as if he were being torn from the inside out.

  “He’s the first of his kind.” The lead figure drew back his hood, revealing a pale face with a long scar on the right side. “Just like I was the first of mine.”

  Sloan drew her saber. “What are you talking about?” She flipped the switch to begin heating the weapon’s blade and gripped the pommel so tight, her hand shook. The light from the full moon gave her enough illumination to count her enemies. There were seven of them, wrapped in dark clothing. The shadows cast by the buildings to either side of the wide alley clung to the figures, as if darkness itself welcomed them. “I know who you are. You’re the assassin, The Scar. You work for Doctor Livingston.”

  “I did work for the doctor, but he has grown useless to my true master. He’s a pawn in this game, much like you. I, however, am something much more different.” The man spread his arms wide, calling a halt to the advancing figures to either side. Without so much as a look in his direction, they stopped in their tracks. “Now, thanks to the experiments done on me, I am something so much more.”

  Sloan slowed her breathing. She steadied the grip on her blade. It was shaking before, not because she was frightened, but from the flow of adrenaline that proceeded every battle.

  Aareth pounded on the pavement, still screaming his rage. The thuds of his fists making contact with the ground soon came with an accompanying splash.

  “Go ahead, look,” the man in front of her said. “We won’t kill you yet. To miss the transformation of such a wondrous beast would be a shame.”

  A mix of concern for her friend and pure horrific intrigue made Sloan look to Aareth. What she saw chilled her to the bone.

  The knuckles on both of Aareth’s hands were bloody. Ripped flesh hung off in red ribbons. And this wasn’t even the worst part. The irises of his eyes had gone yellow.

  Sloan’s heart seized as she witnessed the impossible.

  In front of her eyes, dark fur rippled across his body, while hands and feet transformed into paws. A snout sprouted from his mouth. Salivating teeth snapped an angry staccato.

  In seconds, Aareth was gone. In front of her was a half-man, half-wolf creature. It swung its head to Sloan, then to the robed men, and back again. There was no sign of recollection in its hungry eyes, only madness. It shifted its weight onto its muscular hind legs, ready to spring. At who, was anyone’s guess.

  “Truly exceptional,” The Scar breathed. He took a step closer. Th
e moon caught his eyes, briefly showing blood red irises. “Both born from experiments; both similar, yet so different. Well, that’s enough admiration. Kill them both.”

  Sloan took a step away from the monster Aareth had become to focus on the immediate threat. Two of the six still figures streaked toward Sloan, moving so fast she could only see one thing against their dark clothing: wide-open mouths with long, knife-like fangs.

  Aareth was a wild card now. It was up to her and the steel she wielded to see this encounter through to the end. Her saber hummed with heat, and the sound gave her courage. Never the shy type, Sloan charged forward to meet the attack.

  They were blurs of black robes and fangs, and The Scar seemed content to let these two members of his group attack Sloan. He moved with the rest, toward the beast Aareth had become.

  Sloan slashed out with her sword, but they danced around her, laughing and sneering at her. Every time they came in for an attack, Sloan was a second too late to block or counter. They landed strikes with their knives or with their punches.

  In a matter of seconds, Sloan bled from a cut above her eye and her lip. She was brought to her knees with a shot to her kidneys and another to her left temple. Her sword clattered to the ground beside her.

  Somewhere in the background, the fight of the century was taking place between Aareth and the remaining members of the Vampire Project. In Sloan’s mind, that’s what they had to be. The queen must have sent them to collect Aareth, when Sloan had stumbled upon the group.

  Two more strikes landed across Sloan’s face. Pain exploded all over her body.

  “Look at her.” One of the vampires removed his hood. He was the same man who had been part of the exhibit in the palace when the Vampire Project was unveiled. “Captain Charlotte Sloan, too slow and too old to keep up with the new recruits.”