Worlds Between

by Sherry D. Ficklin

  “So… help moving furniture?” she said, raising a teasing eyebrow.

  Elliot laughed again.

  She was starting to like that musical sound.

  “If that’s what you need, then yes,” he confirmed, and Vicky giggled.

  Their conversation ended when they arrived at the tables containing Elliot’s friends. Introductions were made, and the girls were soon out on the dance floor with eager partners. Vicky found a chair and deposited her bag into it.

  “Will this be safe here?” she looked around at how open the area was. At least in the booth, the bag was stuck in the back, where someone couldn’t see it easily.

  “It’ll be fine there,” Elliot assured her. “No one will bother that bag.”

  She gave him a puzzled look and tucked the strap up, so it wouldn’t catch on anything.

  “Would you like to dance?”

  He held out his hand, and Vicky allowed herself to be led to the dance floor, where her friends were already having a good time.

  Vicky and her friends spent the rest of the night swapping partners with Elliot and his companions. As the night progressed, Vicky discovered that the group was made up of Elliot’s personal menagerie and a few of Rachael’s people. Elliot was the only vampire among them. When she asked why there weren’t more, he grinned and informed her it was due to the werewolves in the club. Vicky spent the rest of the night looking for anyone that might be a werewolf, with no success.

  ***

  “It’s starting to get late, and I need to be heading home,” Vicky informed Vanessa.

  Her friend sighed. “Always the responsible one,” Vanessa teased as she finished her drink.

  “Some of us work for a living,” Vicky teased back.

  “But tomorrow is Sunday,” Vanessa complained lightheartedly. “Is your boss making you work on Sunday?”

  Vicky giggled. “Today is Sunday,” she corrected, looking up at the clock showing one thirty. “And no, he’s not making me work. I’m just used to going to bed much earlier than this.”

  “Good, I was going to have to have words with your slave-driver if he was making you work.” Vanessa nodded. “He’s already asking too much by making you carry that bag everywhere.”

  Vicky giggled at Vanessa’s indignation. “I’ll see you later.” She hugged her best friend goodbye, and Beth and Maggie lined up for hugs, too.

  When Vicky gathered up her bag to go pay out her tab, Elliot appeared at her elbow and offered her an arm. She took it without thinking, and he turned her towards the door. Making a slightly distressed noise, she looked back at the bar and her unsettled bill.

  Elliot chuckled again, “It’s already been taken care of.”

  Vicky’s mouth worked in surprise.

  “Another perk.” Elliot explained.

  “Did you?” she asked, and her escort shook his head smiling.

  “Not by me,” he held the door open for Vicky to pass through. “Master Darien’s name holds a lot of weight in this town.”

  She looked at him, surprised.

  “How are you getting home?” Elliot changed the subject.

  “Well, I was going to catch the bus,” Vicky pointed to the stop at the corner.

  “Then, let me walk with you.” Elliot led her down the street to the bus stop. “Do you always take public transportation?”

  “I find it’s easier than trying to keep a car in the city.” Vicky shrugged as she headed to the bench. “The buses are fairly reliable, and if I’ve had too much, I can always get a cab.”

  Elliot nodded his approval.

  “Should you really leave your group at Alchemy?” Vicky changed the subject.

  “They can fend for themselves.” He smiled. “I’m worried about your safety right now.”

  “I may not look it, but I can take care of myself,” Vicky sassed at the vampire.

  “I’m sure you can.” He smiled and turned his attention to the night as the amusement slipped from his face. “There is something strange on the air tonight.” He looked back at her and gave her a reassuring smile. “Besides, it would be improper to let a lady go home unescorted.”

  Vicky gave him a shy smile before looking back at the club in concern. “Will the girls be okay?” she worried out loud.

  Elliot followed her eyes back to the club. “They’ll be fine,” he promised. “I’ve made sure they’ll not go out alone, but it’s not them I’m concerned about.”

  Vicky thought about this for a while as Elliot turned his attention back to the night. They sat in an odd silence until the bus pulled up a few minutes later.

  “Here we go,” Vicky said as she climbed onto the bus.

  “That didn’t take long at all,” Elliot mused as he mounted the steps.

  “Of course not,” she informed him. “I have all the schedules memorized, and I know when to leave, so that I don’t have to wait long at the stops.” Vicky smiled at him.

  “Smart girl.” Elliot took the seat next to her. He looked around at the brightly lit bus. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on public transportation.”

  “Really?”

  “The buses don’t run after dark where I usually stay.” Elliot shrugged.

  They spent the rest of their trip talking about the differences in their cities.

  ***

  Vicky pushed the button, and the bus pulled up to the stop just down the street from her apartment. “This is my stop,” she told Elliot. “You may want to stay on the bus and take it back to the club. The next one doesn’t come by for another hour.”

  Elliot waved the suggestion away. “I would feel better seeing you safely home,” he informed her.

  Vicky shrugged and led her escort off the bus and down the street.

  “You really don’t have to worry,” she reassured him. “I live in a quiet area. You can get some trouble a few blocks over, but not here.” Vicky kept her eyes open for anything out of the ordinary as they walked. She even looked down the alleyways between the buildings, in case something was hiding there.

  “You can never be too careful at night,” Elliot replied as he looked around.

  Vicky could feel the tension rolling off him. “This is me,” she pointed to the brick building she called home. “Did you want to come in?”

  Elliot shook his head, and Vicky could feel the tension drain away from him. “Just seeing you safely home is good enough.” He bowed to her. “Have a good night, My Lady.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled. “You have a good night, too.”

  Elliot watched Vicky walk up the steps and disappear into the doorway. He waited for a few moments on the sidewalk until the light in the first floor apartment came on before turning and starting back down the street. He was glad that she had made it home safely, but that nagging feeling wouldn’t go away. It had been a long time since one of his premonitions had been wrong.

  Elliot had only gone about half a block when an ear-shattering boom shook the night, and flames erupted from the building Vicky had just entered. He turned and ran back, cursing himself for not following the woman clear inside.

  Smiling, Vicky shook her head as she opened her apartment door. She was glad Elliot had walked her home. It had been a welcome change from having to make the trip on her own, and his company was very pleasant. She just wasn’t sure what he was expecting to happen.

  Flipping the light on, she stepped on something that hadn’t been on the floor before she’d left for the club. Bending down, she picked up an envelope and looked at it. Her full name was scrawled across the outside, so she flipped it over and broke the seal. The card inside had the most beautiful picture of fall trees on it. Their fiery red and orange leaves glowed brightly in the afternoon sun. Vicky kicked off her shoes and took the card over to the lamp, so she could read what was written inside:

  “For the good times we shared.”

  She read the words three times, trying to determine what they meant. There was no signature. Since there was nothing else in
the card, Vicky shook the envelope and found something shifting inside. Puffing out the sides, she looked in to see a round disk. It wasn’t thick enough to be a penny, but it was about the same size.

  She dumped the brass coin out into her hand and hissed in pain when it hit her skin. She quickly dropped the hot object to the floor and turned her hand up to look at the burn. The disk hit the floor with a great explosion that threw Vicky back into the wall between the kitchen and bedroom doors. Spots filled her vision as she tried to hang on to consciousness. A sultry laugh filled the air as she was pulled away into senselessness.

  ***

  Heavy smoke choked Vicky as she shook the darkness from her mind. Coughing, she opened her eyes to find her entire living room engulfed in a raging inferno. She could hear banging and yelling from her front door, but there was no way she was going to get through the fire to open it. Vicky looked around the room for another way out, but flames blocked her path to the living room windows. Turning to get away from the heat, she found that her bedroom wasn’t burning as hotly. Scooting towards the doorway, she tried to clear the pain from her head. She needed to think of a way out.

  Vicky hissed as the flames licked at her leg and caught on the silk of her stockings. Batting at the fire, she crawled into the cooler area of the bedroom. The flames leapt after her as if they were alive, and she moved faster to get away from them. She smelled when the fire caught in her hair and beat at it, frantically, to get it out. When the flames were reduced to embers, Vicky stood up and rushed through the smoky air to the window that offered her escape. Releasing the lock, she pulled hard on the sash, but it wouldn’t budge.

  Fire bloomed on the curtains around her, and Vicky banged on the glass with all her might, trying to get the thin panes to break. She screamed in pain and frustration as blisters formed on the bare skin on her arm. Bending over slightly, she grabbed her chest as she coughed the smoke from her lungs.

  Her hand landed on the strap of the messenger bag, still draped over her shoulder. Grabbing up the stout bag, she slammed it into the glass, repeatedly. On the fourth hit, the glass shattered with a loud pop and a strange hiss. The fire around Vicky subsided slightly, and she crawled out of the hole, cutting herself on the jagged shards of glass. The bag strap snagged on the broken framework and snapped as she tumbled to the fire escape in tears of pain and relief. Grabbing up the bag, she fell the five feet from the metal scaffolding onto the cool concrete of the alleyway.

  The cry of her name and the pounding of feet met her ears. Vicky opened her eyes to see Elliot’s blanched face looking down at her. Coughing harshly, she passed out under the vampire’s gentle hands and the song of sirens in the distance.

  ***

  Elliot dropped to his knees over Vicky’s crumpled form. She was a mess. Blood and soot stained the parts of her that weren’t burned. Pressing his hand to her chest, he prayed for a heartbeat. It was there, but not very strong. He rolled her up in his arms, considering his options. He could ensure that she survived by turning her, but he would have to do so and get out of there before the emergency crews got any closer. Then the question came to mind. Would Darien forgive him for turning her?

  Closing his eyes, Elliot released his hold on his gifts. He really didn’t like reading someone’s life, but he had a feeling that this woman would be worth it. As his power washed over her, he searched for an answer. His mind brushed up against something that made him shiver, and he opened his eyes to look at her slackened face. Her future was riddled with branches that made the path unclear—choices that could change her life forever. There was only one thing he was sure about.

  She would play a pivotal role in the life of one very old vampire.

  First off, I have to thank my sister. When Amanda deployed aboard the USS George H. W. Bush (CVN 77), she was cut off from the fanfictions she loved. She begged us to send her reading material. Since I wasn’t interested in some of the mash ups she requested I decided to write her a whole new story. And she wanted vampires.

  I would like to thank all of the many people that went into making this book. My mother, for the many hours on the phone bouncing around ideas and nursing plot bunnies. Laura, for beta reading, proofreading the original 180k word manuscript, and general encouragement. My father, for actually making it through the book and enjoying it. Krys, for putting up with the hours I spent playing on my computer as I worked through that first rough draft.

  I have really appreciated the encouragement of those around me. Jackie and the employees at HobbyTownUSA, the guys at FRC, my family, my friends, and anyone else that had to listen to me ramble on for hours about the fictional characters gallivanting through my head.

  I’d like to thank Melanie and the girls at Clean Teen/Crimson Tree Publishing; Rebecca, Courtney, Dyan, and Marya. Thank you for taking a chance on an author with no experience and a manuscript that was way too long.

  And finally, I’d like to thank the soldiers and sailors of the United States armed forces. You go out and give up so much so people like me can muck about safe at home. Thank you for your service. I pray you make it home safely.

  Originally from Ohio, Julie always dreamed of a job in science. Either shooting for the stars or delving into the mysteries of volcanoes. But, life never leads where you expect. In 2007, she moved to Mississippi to be with her significant other.

  Now a mother of a hyperactive red headed boy, what time she’s not chasing down dirty socks and unsticking toys from the ceiling is spent crafting worlds readers can get lost it. Julie is a self-proclaimed bibliophile and lover of big words. She likes hiking, frogs, interesting earrings, and a plethora of other fun things.

  Melissa Cunningham

  Clean Teen Publishing

  Dedicated to my dear friend, Lisa.

  Where ever you are,

  may you find the peace and happiness

  that always seemed to allude you.

  For more information about our content disclosure, please utilize the QR code above with your smart phone or visit us at www.cleanteenpublishing.com.

  PROLOGUE

  ~Alisa~

  I should have realized that suicide was not my best option. But, like most teenage girls, I hadn't planned ahead. I never pictured my parents and brothers picking up the pieces of my broken life, or the empty hole I would leave in my wake.

  I honestly didn't think anyone cared that much.

  The medication I'd been taking hadn't helped matters either. My doctor prescribed it after the death of my beloved grandmother, who'd lived with us since I was a baby. Three months later, my best friend, Natasha, died from a brain tumor. Nothing could have shattered me more. Not just because Natty and I were closer than Siamese twins, but also because we shared a dark, horrifying secret.

  Something I'd never told anyone.

  Not even my parents.

  Once she was gone, I didn't know how to shoulder that weight on my own. I was drowning in sorrow. I'd fallen into a dark pit and I had every right to take that antidepressant. My parents thought it would help as well.

  I should have been more open about my feelings. I should have confided in my mom and dad and explained that the medication wasn't working. That in reality, I felt worse. But I didn't. I didn't realize the drug was affecting me adversely... until it was too late.

  The only thing I wanted that night was to not feel anymore, to not have my heart ripping in two, and to not cry so hard that my whole body ached.

  Would it be painful if I rammed my car into the tall pine at the curve of the road? Would it do the trick or just turn me into a vegetable for the rest of my life?

  I gambled.

  I took a chance and got what I wanted.

  Death.

  CHAPTER ONE

  ~Paradise Lost~

  Alisa

  The headlights of my car shine brightly into the woods, pulsing with an eerie glow with each swipe of the windshield wipers. Deep shadows stretch past the foliage, the seat-belt sensor dings in the solemn silence. />
  I'm alone, staring at my motionless body as blood drains from a large gash on my forehead. The crimson rivulets drip down to my shirt, spreading like blossoming roses. For a moment, remorse tugs at my heart. I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have given up yet.

  But things will be better now. I'm sure of it. No more nightmares, no more panic attacks, no more medications. And, definitely no more curious glances from friends, neighbors, or even my own family.

  They all gossiped behind my back, and no one had truly cared. At least that I noticed. My family loved me, sure, but I'd been a drain on them, exhausting in my need for constant reassurance. The last conversation I had with my older brother had ended in a fight, and even my parents were fed up.

  Just this morning my mother had lost her temper and yelled at me, saying she was tired of my self-pity, tired of my complaining, tired of my crying, and if I didn't clean up my act, they'd resort to more serious measures. I'm not sure what those measures would be, but it didn't sound good.

  So, here I am, freeing my family of the endless annoyance of me. They'll be sad at first sure, but they'll get over it.

  People always do.

  I look around, wondering why no one is here to meet me. All my life I've heard that loved-ones will appear and take my hand to guide me through the pearly gates of heaven.

  So far, death is a disappointment.

  Maybe my atheistic theory is true—that there is no God, no heaven, no angels, no afterlife, and I am just experiencing a lack of oxygen, my brain creating fanciful scenes of a heavenly occurrence.

  When a strong tug pulls at my chest, I grow anxious. The world around me dims and I move forward, feeling drawn toward a strange pinpoint of light. It draws me as though a string is attached to my body, like a doomed fish being reeled in.

  At first I resist, afraid, but curiosity wins out, and I move with it.