The Jaws of Life
Fallon Jones
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2011 by Fallon Jones & Serena Miasnikov
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.
This is a work of fiction and, as such, it is a product of the author's creative imagination. All names of characters appearing in these pages are fictitious except for those of public figures. Any similarities of characters to real persons, whether living or dead, excepting public figures, is coincidental. Any resemblance of incidents portrayed in this book to actual events, other than public events, is likewise coincidental.
ISBN 978-1-257-06356-7
For my family— my mother, who told me I could write, and for my sister, who believed it.
To anyone who has hid in a book or dreamed big, this is for you.
Table of Contents
1. Blondes Have More Fun— Especially Dead Ones
5. Not Even the Dead Rest in Peace
6. These Shoes Weren't Made For Walking
7. Praise the Lord, and Pass the Ammunition
8. I'm An Angel, Not a Doctor!
15. Girls Just Wanna Have Guns
16. I've Got Friends in All the Wrong Places
17. "Come Into My Parlor," Said the Spider to the Fly
19. My Fair Lady and the Tramp
3. The Secret's in the Telling
PROLOGUE
BRIDGETTE HOWELL'S DIARY
BRIDGETTE.
This June, I probably would have laughed at Holly when she told me about the world we lived in— where vampires were real (she was dating one), werewolves were scary (I still resent that), and she was being targeted by a centuries old vampire, Viktor, who happened to be hunting her down because of some ancient prophecy; oh, and because evidently, she's an angel. But I can't laugh now. Holly is dead.
So much has changed in two months. I planned on vacationing all summer, until Damien had to ruin everything by "accidentally" biting me on our first date—which just so happened to be on a full moon. Did I mention he's a werewolf? And thanks to his inability to keep his paws to himself, I'm one too. I'm praying that we don't have any football games on a full moon, or cheerleading is gonna suck.
Praying. That's what I'm supposed to be doing. And remembering Holly, not venting about myself.
Take a deep breath, Bridge. Where was Gerard when you needed him? Gerard is—or was—Holly's boyfriend: dark, handsome, and an immortal, which is why he still blames himself for Holly's death; no matter how many times Aiden (his awkward younger brother) and I tell him not to. Sasha, on the other hand, still blames Gerard, but Sasha hates everyone. Sasha's a vampire, too, so she'll be around for a hundred more years to complain. Viktor is her ex-boyfriend, so she hates Viktor even more than I do—but she got to ambush his vampire-infested mansion with a rocket launcher before Holly died, while Gerard and Holly tried to save the day. And they did, sort of. The prophecy was fulfilled when Gerard and Holly kissed, and Holly became an angel, while Gerard got some superpower we haven't quite figured out yet. Unfortunately, Viktor got stronger, too, and came after them. Holly sacrificed herself so that Gerard would live, and Viktor killed her right in front of him.
No one has seen Gerard since then. All of us split up after Holly's death, because she was the only person that could keep such an incompatible group of people together. I've heard rumors that Gerard went crazy after Holly's death or that the prophecy was too much for him to handle, and how he wanted to get revenge on Viktor, alone; which was really suicide. But Gerard can't hide from us anymore, because Holly's funeral is tomorrow.
None of us are ready.
PART 1
Chapter 1
BLONDES HAVE MORE FUN— ESPECIALLY
DEAD ONES.
HOLLY.
I stared back at the girl in the mirror and pressed my hand to the cool glass, my so-called reflection.
This wasn't me.
Instead of the ordinary high school girl I was used to seeing every morning, this was someone completely different. My wavy chestnut hair that once fell past shoulders now extended to my waist and shone a glossy starlight hue. It was so pale I couldn't tell if it was blonde or silver. The childish freckles that splattered my face had disappeared, leaving my complexion pale as lilies. I looked— well to be honest— quite dead.
What scared me most were my eyes. They were no longer friendly and brown, and they didn't seem to hide my emotions. My eyes were hazel now; but they didn't change color when I moved in and out of the dim light that shown overhead.
They changed with my mood.
Vampires. They flashed gold.
Viktor. My eyes turned such a deep brown I thought for a moment they were black.
Gerard. They flashed back to a bright green. I almost laughed at my new "mood ring" but stopped. I had bigger things to worry about.
I had to attend my funeral today. Chills shot up my spine at the thought. Everyone I cared about would be there, and I wondered what would be in the casket if I were here. I bit my lip and wondered if I was cut out for this.
If I can keep my mouth shut just for today, I'll do fine. I reassured myself, straightening my black dress nervously.
Just don't talk to anyone. Easier said than done. It felt like years since I'd seen or heard from my friends, but in reality only a month had passed. Death can take a lot out of you, and the only time I'd slept this week was when I fell into a coma for three days after realizing what had happened.
I glanced down at my golden wristwatch (silver was obviously a bad idea). The tiny hands read 7:48, which meant that I had about ten minutes to get to the church.
Naturally, the vampires wanted the funeral to take place at night.
I gave the house another quick glance before I sped out the door. It was smaller than where I'd lived with my brother and a few decades older, but the overall feel was cozy rather than cramped. White walls matched with pale green shutters, and the place smelled faintly of roses.
I still don't know how I ended up there, or why new clothes in my size were already in the closet… But I don't argue with God. I found a modest black Nissan in the driveway and a set of keys in my left pocket.
I hoped I wasn't insane. But even if I was, this was going to make a terrific story for the cops.
I crawled in and shoved the key into the ignition hastily, starting the car. I drove as fast as I could without breaking the speed limit or drawing too much attention to myself. I definitely didn't want to run in halfway through the sermon.
What will my tombstone say? I wondered silently.
Vampire slayer. Angel. Almost a Senior.
Oh God, please don't let my brother be there. This wasn't the year-and-a-half reunion I had been planning for when Jackson came home from the Air Force.
I escaped my thoughts as a large cathedral came into view. I pulled the car into a parking space near the back and frowned.
Wait a minute; I thought vampires couldn't enter churches…
"And I thought witches wore pointy hats."
I jerked around to see a man with cologne-model good looks leaning against my car, his amber eyes watching me with mild curiosity. DAMIEN. I have never been so happy to see the sarcastic, arrogant, werewolf in my life.
"That's what you are, isn't it? You have a strong aura around you, but you don't smell like a vampire, and—”
"I didn't know werewolves read minds." I commented, my eyes locking his.
Stop thinking about me! About the old me! Wait, since when can I read minds?
I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead and blinked, hoping to clear my head of the flashing images that seemed to be twisting through my thoughts.
I'm in Damien's head, I realized, trying to sort through his thoughts. I cringed. Didn't need to see that.
"You're projecting a telepathic link to me," he explained, tilting his head. "Are you okay?"
I snapped back to reality and pulled my hand away from my face, thankful that my head was my own again.
Well that went over well.
Damien laughed and stood up, pushing his chocolate hair back from his face casually. "We'd better get going, the funeral's about to start. I'm assuming that's where you're headed?"
I nodded and stepped forward, pulling my thin blazer around me. "It's really cold for August."
Damien nodded and headed toward the church in a somewhat leisurely manner, holding the door open with his foot. I glanced up again as a light drizzle of rain began to fall, darkening the once cheery summer sky.
"You can blame them for that." Damien said, pointing out a small cluster of people near the open casket as I stepped inside. "Vampires don't usually stick together for very long but when they do, something weird is bound to happen."
I squinted and felt my heart stop. Again. I watched the scene as I stood rooted to the ground, unable to tear my eyes away. One or the other I might have been able to deal with, but I wasn't ready for both yet. Gerard was leaning over the casket, his knuckles white as he stared at the girl inside the open coffin.
I stepped forward cautiously, hoping to get a better view. When I finally reached the side of the white casket, I wished I hadn't let curiosity get the best of me.
It was my body inside the coffin.
Chapter 2
SUNSETS AND CELLULOID
I placed my hand on the cool white marble of the coffin and peered inside tentatively.
It was definitely me lying inside the casket, but what I'd started to refer to as the "old me".
Except I was dead.
My eyes lingered on her face, until I felt a pair of eyes watching me.
The living me. The little voice in my head corrected cheerily. This is really weird… I whirled around to see who was staring at me.
The man didn't jump back like I'd hoped he would and give me some space. Instead he kept staring, as if I were a ghost. If I'd known who had been standing behind me, I wouldn't have wanted space anyway.
"Gerard," I breathed. The word flowed easily off my tongue, as if I had known it my whole life. I raised my hand from the casket in a dream-like state and reached out to touch him. I lowered it instead and clenched my fist at my side.
"Are you all right?" I asked, hoping to break his dazed expression. It worked, and he rubbed his eyes with his hand. "I'm sorry. I thought for a second—" His voice dropped off.
Answer the question! Are you all right? My thoughts screamed. I tried to keep them to myself, and hoped it worked.
Now it was my turn to stare. His long ebony hair was disheveled, and his peridot eyes were bloodshot and lost. His normally strong stance was broken, and he seemed to droop slightly. It was obvious he hadn't slept in weeks. A funeral band hung in remembrance on his right sleeve, bright pink against his all-black attire. I thought I was going to cry at my own funeral—but not for me.
"You're here for the funeral," he stated blandly. "Were you close?"
More than you'd think.
I shifted uneasily. "Sort of."
"I'm Gerard Winchester," the vampire said, offering his hand. I smiled. "I know."
I shifted uneasily on the wooden pew before glancing back up at the ceiling.
How long is this gonna take? I wondered vaguely, scanning the cathedral again. I only recognized about half of the faces at the funeral, fewer who were referring to me as "close friends" in their eulogies. Not that there was much to say, seeing as none of the vampires or werewolves could actually say anything because nobody that I'd been friends with during my human life knew who they were. I couldn't help but wonder if there had been a funeral for Amy, too. She was my roommate throughout the summer, my friend— or so I'd thought until she sold Gerard and me out to Viktor, resulting in my death. I didn't miss her, but a part of me still ached from her betrayal.
I glanced at the pew in front of me and chewed my cheek, watching as a head bobbed continually.
Why the heck is Damien laughing?
A few other people (well,mostly people) turned toward the werewolf and stared as he continued to snicker. I leaned forward and grabbed his collar when a few more attendees started to grow fur or fangs.
He turned around, but continued to smile.
"What are you doing?" I hissed, leaning forward. "This is a funeral!"
"Really? I hadn't noticed. Especially considering I'm talking to the dead girl." I froze.
"What the heck are you talking about?" I whispered. "Well, when someone dies they—”
"I know what a dead girl is!"
"Then what's the problem?" He asked, blinking his amber eyes at me in mock-innocence.
I pulled him out of the pew and toward the back of the cathedral.
"Wait! I'm missing the good part!"
The organ began to play, and I pushed the looming double doors open with my knee, dragging Damien outside.
I yanked the door shut behind us and turned to face the werewolf. "What's going on?" I repeated.
Damien rocked back on his heels and continued to smile. "Y'know, I kinda liked your eyes better before. They weren't as piercing."
I continued to stare until he finally sighed.
"You know I can't stand to see a damsel in distress like this. I'm guessing you came back as a full angel."
I frowned. "How did you know?"
Damien tapped his nose with his index finger and smirked. "I'm part wolf, remember? And I was around you long enough before you disappeared."
"Why didn't Bridgette say anything?"
"Probably because she doesn't know; she's new to this whole werewolf thing. I did my research when I was turned. There are very few cases when the angel actually figures it out; even less when they're sent back. My guess is that you still have to take care of Viktor."
Sadly, the part that surprised me the most about his speech was that Damien confessed to studying.
"Does Gerard know?" I blurted out.
He smiled. "No, don't worry. But he is looking into what happens to dead angels.”
“Could you—"
"Already got it covered," he replied with a lazy grin. "Don't worry; the others wouldn't realize it if you paraded around with your name tattooed across your forehead."
I rolled my eyes.
"So, how are you gonna do it?”
“Do what?" I asked suspiciously.
"Get Viktor. Does God let you use machine guns?”
“Damien!"
"Hey, someone might hear you," he teased playfully.
I looked up and realized I was able to see the sky again.
The stars twinkled and shone through the few remaining clouds, and I let out a sigh.
"I don't actually have a plan yet," I confessed, dropping my hands to my sides. The black dress swirled around my knees as the wind picked up steadily.
Damien raised his eyebrows and grinned, looking skyward. "you might not, but I think He does."
Chapter 3
GET THIS PARTY STARTED
I drummed my fingers on the dashboard of Damien's car absentmindedly as I waited for him to return from the funeral reception. I stared out the foggy window on the passenger's side and traced shapes onto the glass with my pinky, scanning the swollen faces as people began to filter out of the church.
I would have gone back inside to the reception, but if I couldn't keep my mouth shut while the funeral was still in procession, I doubted I could stay silent where my friends and food were involved.
The ironic part was that the only person that knew my secret was Damien. Damien the partygoer, the loudmouth, the sarcastic, narcissistic werewolf. And I'd only known him for a week before I'd died. Yet here I was, sitting in his car and waiting for him to take me to his house and show me books on angels.
I heard the tap of dress shoes on pavement and glanced out the opposite window to see Damien flipping through a keychain carelessly. He popped the correct key in and slid inside the car, pulling the convertible's door shut behind him. He started the engine with the push of a button and began to whistle.
"You could at least pretend to be a little broken up about my funeral." I said, snapping on my seatbelt as he eased out of the parking lot.
He shrugged. "Maybe I'm just happy you're alive. Besides, you just came back from the dead to take out an entire coven of vampires! I think that this calls for a little celebration."
I shook my head as Damien's images of "celebrating" popped into my head.
He turned sideways in his seat to face me. "So you've gotten your mind reading powers already, huh?"
"Eyes on the road!" I shouted as a motorcycle swerved in front of Damien's silver Cadillac.
He shrugged carelessly, glancing back at the street.
"We're fine. So how long have you been able to do that?”
“Judge your driving skills?"
Damien rolled his eyes. "You know what I'm talking about. I seem to recall Gerard saying something about you reading his thoughts, but no one else said anything…"
"That's because I could only hear his." We spun around the corner of another busy street and Damien accelerated back up to ninety miles an hour. I gripped the edge of my seat. "Where do you live?"
"You'll find out when we get there," he replied casually.
"But mind reading is the first sign that you're on your way to getting wings."
"I already have them," I replied proudly as we sped down Main Street.
Damien turned to face me again, this time with a serious expression on his face. "Did it happen before or after you died?"
"What, the wings?"
"No. The prophecy. When was the prophecy fulfilled?"
I frowned. "Before. Gerard and Viktor were both there. Gerard didn't tell you?"
Damien cursed under his breath and gripped the steering wheel until his tanned hands were almost as pale as mine. I felt the car accelerate what felt like another twenty miles and I wondered if telling a crazed werewolf what he obviously didn't want to hear while we raced down the street was such a good idea.
"Damien, what's going on?" A small tuft of black fur rose on his head and his fingernails elongated. "Damien. Turn off the car." I ordered, trying to keep my voice level. Still, no response. Everything beyond the car windows blurred into watercolor. "DAMIEN!" I screamed and put my hands on the steering wheel, pushing his paws away. "There are people here, Damien. Humans with families. With cameras on their cell phones and access to amateur media. You are either going to run them over or let them see a werewolf driving a Cadillac! Get off the road." I layered my voice with hypnotism and glanced in the rearview mirror. My eyes were gold.
"Damien. Look at me." It wasn't a suggestion. He turned to face me, and the muscles in his face seemed to slacken. I held his stare until his face was back to that of a handsome, utterly careless, should-be-in-college student. I kept my hand firmly on the wheel as Damien's foot eased off the gas.
"We're here," he said wearily. Damien stepped out of the car and threw the keys over to a valet.
"Welcome back Mr. LaPine." the man called cheerily, opening my door. He raised his eyebrows with a slight smirk. "You brought another one home I see?"
I blushed furiously and jumped out of the car. "I'm not—!"
Damien cut me off, still grinning, and slung an arm over my shoulders casually, giving the valet a wink. "Don't spoil the surprise, Lucas."
Before I had the time to point out to "Lucas" that I was still fully clothed and at least I was inside the building, Damien pulled me away to an elevator, still chuckling under his breath.
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, that was believable Mr.
'Lupine'. Way to be creative."
"It's "LaPine", which makes it French! Have you ever heard of a French werewolf before?" He asked smugly.
"Actually I—" I paused as a man in a bellhop suit carried something in one hand that resembled raw liver. "Damien, what was that?" I asked accusingly.
"Nothing," he answered as quickly as possible. I continued to stare at him and he gave an innocent shrug. "Maybe the residents just like their food rare!"
"There's a difference between eating a rare steak and a raw cow," I stated, rolling my eyes.
"Well, when you put it like that… Hey, if vampires get a secret lair, why can't we?"
The elevator doors swept open and Damien pulled me inside, pushing a gold key into the wall and pressing a button for the top floor.
"You made a hideout for werewolves?" I asked incredulously.
"Well—no." He cracked a smile, revealing blindingly white teeth. "Because as you can see, I'd hardly call this hiding."
I groaned and leaned against the elevator wall.
"Damien—"
He raised his hands to the sky. "I didn't make it! Believe it or not this place was supposedly here for years! But I kinda get the impression you weren't looking for a wolf den until just now."
The doors slid open and we stepped into a swanky bachelor's pad. I smirked. "Penthouse."
He nodded. "Well of course! I don't have to hire security guards anymore, which believe it or not saves a ton of money in the long run, and I don't really need to pay for gym memberships either."
"Who are you?" I asked in wonder.
Damien gave a half smile and then winked. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you."
I rolled my eyes. "Already taken care of."
He shrugged and leaned back against a leather sofa. "True enough."
"This place is huge!" I gushed, spinning around. The walls were covered with plasma screen televisions, windows facing the blur of city lights, and mirrors.
Of course Damien would need a wall full of mirrors.
Surprisingly, there were shelves of ancient-looking books as well. I stepped forward and picked up a particularly worn volume labeled 'Mal'akh'. The pages were yellowed and felt dry on my fingers. I blew dust off the cover and held it up, eyeing it curiously.
Damien leaned over me and smiled. "Your luck amazes me."
"What does it say?" I asked, cracking the book open cautiously.
"Mal'akh. It's Hebrew for 'angel'." He explained. "The entire novel's written in Hebrew too, so I doubt you'll understand much."
I flipped through the pages with delicate strokes of my finger. I was half expecting the entire book to fall to dust at any moment.
Dust. I glanced out the window at the rising sun, its coral glow setting the sky ablaze. Gerard's asleep, came the little voice in my head. I hoped he was sleeping again, rather than lying awake in his coffin and mourning… Does he even sleep in a coffin? I never saw one in his room.
I realized how little I truly knew about his life as a vampire, and I closed my eyes briefly. I knew deep down that he still blamed himself for my death, even if it was my choice. And there was nothing I could do to let him know that I was okay.
Well, not really okay, but whatever.
I snapped the book shut and turned around. "Damien, why did you get so upset earlier?"
He took the volume from my hands and placed it carefully back on the shelf. "Which time again?"
"When I told you about my wings…"
His relaxed smile faded and his face grew solemn.
"Gerard didn't tell me, or anyone for that matter, for a reason. If Viktor got any of that 'power' foretold in the prophecy…" His voice dropped off.
"Damien, I need to know—"
His eyes flashed silver and he clenched his jaw. "Gerard has become a lot more reckless after your death. He's not thinking things through. If Viktor has become any stronger since the last time you fought him, Gerard doesn't stand a chance. And he knows it."
"Then he should wait a while and gather reinforcements!" I said in frustration. But deep down in my gut I knew that Gerard wouldn't wait.
"He's going in on August ninth." Damien explained.
"He's going to take Aiden, Sasha, Bridgette, me, and whatever other vampires or werewolves he can get to go along with his ridiculous 'plan'."
"But that's in two weeks! You have to stop him!" I insisted, my face heating up.
"You don't think I've tried?!" Damien sunk back onto the couch. "There's nothing I can do; he won't listen to anyone on this, not even Aiden."
"Then you can't go along with it! We'll just call everyone off!"
"And then he'll go in by himself!" Damien ran a hand through his hair in frustration and looked up at me. "Holly, you don't realize how extreme he's gotten. Gerard is not himself right now."
I shook my head and turned around, heading for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"To talk some sense into him myself! I don't care if he's not listening, he'll get himself killed otherwise! I'll— I'll… I'll nail his coffin shut myself so he can't go through with this stupid plan!"
Damien was on his feet in a second, holding me by the arm with a grim expression.
I wrenched in his iron grip. "Let me go! I have to talk to him! I have to—" I broke down. I could feel my eyes welling up with tears, and I gasped for breath. I relaxed my muscles and Damien released me. "I have to talk to Gerard," I finished.
"I know. And you will, but first we have to think things through. Hell, no one else is being rational either. At least you have an excuse." Damien pulled me into him, and I closed my eyes. If I held him tight enough, I could pretend it was Gerard beside me; his heartbeat thundering in my ears, his scent on Damien's shirt.
Except it wasn't. Damien smelled like expensive cologne and pine trees rather than sandalwood, cinnamon, and musk. And the man I loved held no heart. I pulled away slowly and opened my blurry eyes, sniffling. "I'm sorry. I got your shirt all wet."
He laughed. "Somehow I'll find a way to forgive you.
Now let's get you all cleaned up. You look awful."
Now it was my turn to laugh. "Thanks." In the midst of everything, I could always rely on Damien to tell me about something as trivial as makeup smeared across my face. He led me into the bathroom and turned on a clawed porcelain tub. The room was about the size of my bedroom at home.
"Just because you're older than me doesn't mean that I can't start my own bath. And I have a place to stay."
"A place with all day room service? I think not. And besides, you're only seventeen. That makes me five whole years your elder."
"Gerard is over two hundred years older. Now get out! Believe it or not, I can undress myself."
Damien gave me a puppy-dog stare then winked, stepping out of the bathroom. "Well if you ever need any help with that make sure to let me—" I slammed the door in his face.
Once I was sure his footsteps had faded, I padded back across the ivory tiled floor. The black dress now clung helplessly to my body, and I had to peel the silk from my skin. I yanked the dress over my head and slid off my black ballet flats. A sigh escaped my lips once I was free of the suffocating clothes. I gripped the edge of the porcelain tub with shaking fingers and lowered myself in. Damien was right. Over the past few months I had been through more than what would last any normal person a lifetime. I wondered vaguely how my brother Jackson was doing in the military. Luckily no one had the heart to tell the boy who'd lost both his parents together in a car crash that his baby sister had…
How did they say I died? For the life of me, I could not remember. Not that I'd really want to. Right now, all I wanted to do was let the steamy water roll over my skin until I was lobster-red and perfectly relaxed. I let my head fall back against the cool porcelain, fair hair spilling around me in languid waves.
It will be morning in a couple more hours, I told myself. Gerard can't do anything yet, which means I have thirteen hours to think of a plan… At least it's summer so there's more daylight. I stared at the high ceiling above me, searching for shapes in the textured paint. What am I gonna do about school? I only have my senior year left… Well, I have bigger things to worry about right now. I started to see faces in the swirls of white paint; each twist of the brush becoming someone else I was familiar with. I saw obvious ones at first, Gerard, Bridgette, Aiden…
Then a pair of mismatched eyes.
I screamed at the top of my lungs and kicked at the bathtub, spilling water over the sides.
Where are you going, angel?
The voice echoed in my head as I fell out onto the tile floor, clutching for a towel. I stared in front of me with horror as Viktor's voice continued to ring in my ears.
I heard a desperate knock on the door. "Holly! Holly, is everything okay?!" Damien called, his voice muffled by the heavy door.
"Get out!" I shouted, pulling the towel around me.
Viktor's voice changed to a maniacal laugh, and for an instant
I could see his face inches from mine, grinning wildly.
"Holly!" Damien twisted the doorknob urgently, but it wouldn't open. He cursed under his breath. "The door's locked. I'm coming in!" I didn't have time to turn around as the mahogany door was knocked off its hinges, splintering to the ground in a million tiny pieces.
"It's Viktor," I explained as hurriedly as I could. "He's back." I picked up a chunk of wood off the floor to use as a stake and whipped around to where the face had appeared. But there was no one there.
"He was here! Well—his face, anyway," I tried to explain. Damien just stared at me like I was a five-year-old screaming about monsters under the bed. "Damien!"
He let out a sigh, and stared at me with something close to pity. If there is one thing in the world I can't stand, and I've had quite enough of, it's when people look at me as if they want to help but don't know how, so they just whisper "poor thing" behind my back. "I don't know, Holly; you've had a pretty rough time."
"Damien." I stood up and leaned closer to look him in the eye. If I'd wanted to look him directly in the eye I would've had to stand on a box or something, but I figured that would take all the seriousness out of what I was trying to say. "I know you don't believe me, but think about it for a second! We know that Viktor has gotten a lot stronger from the prophecy; and we know that vampires can read minds and send thoughts. So if you think about it, he might've been able to get inside my head." I stared at Damien for a second as he began to think and took a breath. "I know you know a lot more about this kind of thing than I do, though, so you'll have to help me. I can't fight what I don't know is real."
Damien frowned before nodding in agreement. "All right. I don't think Viktor actually popped into the bathroom of a werewolf lair to see the little angel, but we'd better be safe."
I smiled. "Thanks, Damien."
He shrugged. "Yeah, whatever. I'm just as confused on all of this as you are, so I don't think we're going to find too much out in here. However, they have these crazy little things all over the place now where you can get knowledge… Haven't you ever done a report for school before?"
I rolled my eyes. "Not on vampires with psychotic breakdowns stalking my dead self through bathrooms."
He smirked. "Okay. Then we have three options so far." Then he held up three fingers. "Option one: we check online. Home of more vampire folklore than Bram Stoker himself could ever dream. "Option two," he lowered a finger along with his voice. "There are these weird ancient places covered in dust known only by people who lived when telephones had chords called libraries."
I rolled my eyes again and coughed. "Geezer."
"And last but not least—” He dropped his fingers all together and smiled. "We ask a vampire ourselves."
"And how exactly are we gonna do that? I don't know many vampires who are willing to open up all their problems to random strangers."
"Well I do! And luckily we're not random strangers! We have Aiden, Gerard, Sasha… Plus, with my amazing good looks and your creepy hypnotism-thing, you're gonna go far, kid." He ruffled my wet hair with his hand, and I laughed.
"Oh gee, that's reassuring."
"But for now," Damien took hold of my shoulders and guided me down the hall and to another room, nudging the door open with his foot. "You need to sleep," he ordered for the millionth time.
I rolled my eyes and stepped inside the room, too exhausted to argue. After all, I needed something better to say when I saw Gerard again than asking where the nearest caffeinated drink was hidden. The walls of the room were painted a deep gold, and a large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, the dim glow of candles illuminating the bedroom. A broad, four post bed stood invitingly in front of me, and I sat down. This place is a little feminine for Damien… I thought to myself, setting my head against a silk pillow. I stared up at the ceiling and watched as the shadows flitted about the room like dancers, each moving to its own lazy rhythm. The mirror across from me seemed to shimmer with a surreal light, and I blinked. Long day. I told myself again, and tried to drift off to sleep.
Chapter 4
TAKE TO THE SKY
I glanced back over my shoulder anxiously, but the motion was in vain. I knew I couldn't see, even if he was behind me. I fought to see through the dimly lit castle halls anyway, my bare feet padding over the stone floors in time with my ragged breaths. I prayed he didn't hear the sound, or he would know I was getting weaker. Dim candlelight flickered off the walls eerily, and a gust of wind sent each flame whipping forward. My breath hitched in my throat, but I didn't stumble. If I fell now, it would be all over. Then came the nightmare, the one I had feared for too long. Laughter, his laughter, cold and piercing in my ears. My heartbeat thundered on, and I lifted the remains of my tattered crimson dress off the ground. I had to keep moving. Another stride and I was at the end of the hall.
Left or right?
My mind raced to remember the way or create one to sooth my sporadic thoughts. I stared ahead, my eyes fixed on the stained glass window that lay in front of me. The image was simple: an angel with black wings holding the body of a young girl with a red umbrella. Of course. My mind snapped back suddenly, and I knew the answer. The window. Go through the window. I was too reckless, too weary, to allow myself to process the thought before I crossed my arms in an 'X' over my face, tucked my chin under, and dove headfirst through the window.
My bloodstained dress caught the shattered glass, then the silk gave with a final tug, and the dress was free from the castle, as was I. Oh well, there really wasn't much hope for the dress, anyway. Then I realized I was falling— fast. Luckily I was a few floors up from the ground, so I would have time to shut my eyes before the impact. I cast a final longing stare at the wild grass, flowers even, which curled beneath me. A single white rose was still clinging helplessly to its dead bush as the two rushed up from the ground to meet me. I couldn't force myself to look away. At least I'd have a nice view before I died.
I braced myself for the impact, eyes shut tight. But something was wrong; the earsplitting roar of air that I had listened to intently for the last ten seconds was gone, as was the wind that rushed at my face. Instead another sound had replaced it— fainter, but somehow more prominent. I knew that rhythm all too well. It was the sound of wings.
I didn't bother to hesitate as I snapped my eyes open eagerly to meet the face of my savior. But something was wrong; I could feel it even before I set eyes on the face, which was slightly elongated in comparison to the one I knew so well. The aura was wrong. The air about this man seemed darker somehow, as if the breeze around me had died down not because I'd stopped falling, but because he had killed the wind. The eyes seemed darker too, and each iris was a different color. At last he turned his face down to meet mine and gave a blank grin.
This wasn't Gerard's face; it was Viktor's.
I woke up screaming.
I gripped the pillow tightly to my chest and tried to take slower breaths. I closed my eyes gently and exhaled, glancing at the door. Thank God the door was shut. I hoped I didn't wake up the sleeping werewolf a few rooms over. I glanced over at the glowing digital clock on the bedside table. The red lights blared 2:00 AM. I kicked the sheets off my legs and stood up shakily, stretching out my arms. They were covered in goosebumps.
It might take me a while to get back onto a human schedule, I thought to myself with a smirk, fumbling around in the dark for a light switch. Then again, it might take me longer to get used to the night. I felt my way across the wall until my hands found a switch, and then I paused. I tiptoed my way across the dark room to the door and turned the knob slowly, peeking my head out into the hall. Damien's heavy snoring echoed through the penthouse, and I tried to hold in a laugh. Well, no point in waking him up yet. Besides, I'd rather go home by myself. I seriously doubted that a werewolf would want to drop me off at my house so that I could pick up some clean clothes and possibly a new pair of converse. Then again, it was Damien. I would much rather go flying off through the city in the middle of the night than risk opening one of the dresser drawers in Damien's room. I was willing to bet that the nightgown he had miraculously found me wasn't the only piece of female clothing lying around, and I was a little scared of what other garments haunted his drawers.
I crept over to the window and pushed it up, crawling outside onto the balcony. The wind whipped against my face and I blinked rapidly. Right. The penthouse suite is on the top floor. If I was going to keep doing this, I was really gonna need to get over my fear of heights. Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down…
Thankfully the nightgown Damien found had a low back and I was able to stretch out my wings. I flapped them a few times and staggered as I was pulled backwards by the force of the wind. I flattened my wings against my back and held out my arms to steady myself. I sucked in a breath and put a bare foot forward gingerly, stepping further out on the balcony. I stepped up onto the railing and stood up, straightening my quivering limbs like a baby bird. Don't. Look. Down.
I squeezed my eyes shut and let my wings out again, extending them to their full size. They spanned out from between my shoulder blades and reached out to a span of almost fifteen feet, even paler than the moonlight. I could hear my feathers rustling as another gust of air brushed past me and I held my breath, curling my toes around the balcony railing tightly.Just like diving, I told myself. Except there was no water here to break my fall; no one would be here to catch me but myself. I let out my breath and jumped headfirst, spiraling downwards to meet the concrete.
I snapped my eyes open immediately and sincerely wished I hadn't. The combination of falling off a twenty story building and fighting desperately to keep my skimpy nightgown from flying up suddenly made me very dizzy. Wings! I reminded myself, flapping them quickly. They seemed much bigger now than the last time I'd used them. The rush of air shot up against the pale feathers and I flew upwards, giving myself whiplash.
Not too graceful for an angel. I told myself, letting out a slightly hysterical laugh. I flapped my wings a few times and rose slowly into the air, releasing my grip on the hem of my nightgown. I looked up at the clear night sky and watched the twinkling stars overhead. Aside from the whole diving-headfirst-off-the-hotel-roof thing, it looked like it might be a pretty good night. No one had seen the angel with snowy white wings flying haphazardly over the city (and who would believe the ones who had?), and all I had to do was find the speck below me that resembled my house. I swooped lower over the cluster of neighborhoods and began counting up the streets.
24, 25, 26, 27… That's my street! I thought happily, attempting to stop. I flapped my huge wings backwards and tumbled over, flipping through the air. I winced and caught a tree branch with my left hand. At least it's finally healed. I prayed that I wouldn't break it again by attempting to land. The last time I'd broken my wrist I'd been battling a werewolf, which made for a way better story. It made me seem more heroic and less… me.
I tucked in my wings and swung helplessly from the branch until I heard footsteps below me. Who on Earth would be out walking in my not-so-quiet suburban neighborhood at one in the morning? I struggled to pull myself up and perched on the rowan's branch, watching as the person walked closer and closer to my house. I squinted in the dim light and leaned in closer. It was a man with dark hair, broad shouldered, tall, and wearing a very familiar old leather jacket. I inched further out on the branch until I heard a creaking sound and felt the branch shake. Oh no.
The branch snapped with a sudden crack and I fell off the tree, not bothering to unfold my wings at such a close distance to the ground. I reached out for another branch, but was caught by a pair of strong arms instead. My face heated up as I turned to meet the eyes of my savior. Not mismatched ones this time, but sparkling, tired, peridot eyes stared back at me curiously. I was captivated.
"Gerard," I whispered, my eyes locked to his. He stared back at me silently, not saying a word, or shifting his gaze. I could feel my heartbeat racing, and I studied his face again. His long ebony hair was as disheveled as ever, if not more, and hung around his face in soft pieces. His strong jaw relaxed at the sight of me, and I smiled. His lips remained slack, as if he wasn't really here, but dreaming. I had never seen a man look so beautiful, or so haunted.
I blinked finally, and he shut his eyes, keeping them closed for a while. When he reopened them, the spark that I had seen when he caught me had dimmed. A few images fluttered through my mind, and I tried to shoo them away before I realized they were his.
There was me, when he'd first seen me at my house, a concerned look written across my face as I helped him inside and treated his wounds. Then there was me, laughing inside his room at Viktor's mansion as he and his brother threw pillows at each other. Me, almost in tears as he lifted me up from inside the werewolf lair and carried me back to the mansion.
Then there was Gerard, watching over me carefully as I slept, making sure his leather jacket was wrapped around me tightly as I smiled in my sleep and hugged him close. Me, losing him as he traded himself for my safety when Viktor came to take me away. And finally, him losing me, unable to do anything, as the creature he loathed drained my blood and killed me slowly, a triumphant smile on Viktor's face.
I blinked rapidly and sucked in a breath as one last vision entered my thoughts. The two of us holding each other, scared but smiling as he whispered "I love you" and kissed me.
I stared back at him in awe. Did he really see me that way? As being so beautiful and bright, so… angelic?
Then I realized that if I could read his thoughts so clearly, he was probably hearing mine too. I looked away from him quickly. Don't think. Don't think about how much you miss him, or the fact that he's probably reading your mind right now and hearing you ramble on and on about his eyes, and how the wind tosses his hair in front of them and makes him look like the angel, and how much you love him…
Well, so much for that plan.
"Um, thanks for catching me," I said finally with a nervous laugh. His trance broke and he set me down gently.
"No problem. Sorry, I just thought for a second you were… someone else."
Believe me; I've heard that one before. I stomped my feet nervously. Bad idea when you're standing barefoot on concrete in the middle of the night. Ow ow ow ow… "I guess I just have one of those faces."
"Yeah… Haven't I seen you before though?"
Yeah, we had a great time hanging out together at my funeral.
"Yeah, I think so." I shivered as the wind blew around my nightgown, and I was starting to think that risking Damien's drawers was the least of my problems right now.
"Are you okay?" he asked with concern.
Yeah, I always spend my nights sleeping in trees and wearing my favorite skimpy pajamas.
Gerard laughed and I could feel my face turning beet red. Please tell me he only heard half of that thought. "My parents kicked me out when I was younger too; it's nothing to be so embarrassed about. But it's freezing— you're going to catch your death out here. If you need something to wear, my girlfriend's house is down the street."
He called me his girlfriend! I thought to myself happily. Well, not exactly me, but… Close enough! I smiled. "Thanks." Not that I wasn't planning on going in anyway, but now I have a better excuse for breaking into my own house.
He took off walking and handed me his jacket. "I don't need it anyway. So what are you doing out here in the middle of the night?"
"I, uh, got…. kicked out of my house!" I shouted excitedly. Wow. I really need to get better at lying.
He stared at me skeptically and shrugged. "Oh."
Well, it wasn't completely a lie anyway; Damien would probably kick me out if he figured out what I was doing. "So what's your excuse?"
"Just looking for someone," he answered, staring up at the sky.
Well, you found her!
"What?"
"Nothing." I answered quickly and practically leapt onto my front porch. "Is this it?"
"Yeah. Now I just need to find a key…"
Don't worry, it's never locked.
"How do you know that—" Gerard paused, and then gave a faint smile. "So you are a night creature. I thought I sensed it when I met you, but I wasn't sure until you said that."
Well at least he doesn't know he's reading my thoughts yet. I clamped a hand over my mouth. Like covering my mouth was gonna help.
He twisted the knob on the front door and stepped inside. "Do you need to be invited in?”
“What?" I asked curiously.
"So, you're not a vampire then?"
I shook my head quickly. "I didn't know that they actually had to be invited inside."
He smiled again. "So I'm guessing you're kinda new to this whole thing, huh? Don't worry, you'll get used to it eventually."
"But I thought you were born a—" I shut my mouth again. What was wrong with me tonight? In another minute I might start naming every stuffed animal in my bedroom and where they came from, and then we'd be stuck here until the sun rose.
Luckily, Gerard wasn't really paying close enough attention to read my mind at the moment, but started heading up the staircase instead. I turned and followed him barely a step behind, hoping there wasn't something weird or embarrassing lying around.
Gerard rested his hand on the doorknob and gripped it tightly. His knuckles turned white, and I think the doorknob might have crushed beneath his long fingers.
I stood at the end of the hall, then walked up to him and put my hand on his arm. "Let me," I said gently, taking his hand in mine and pulling it away from the door. I twisted the knob with my other hand and stepped inside.
The room was exactly the same as it had always looked; the walls were still painted pink, and my tiny bed still sat cramped in the corner, covered in seventeen-year-old teddy bears. My laptop was sitting on my desk, where I'd left it after Googling vampires the last time Gerard and I were here. Luckily, the battery was dead by now, and he would never know everything I'd found.
He was so handsome, standing with his hands in his pockets looking out the window. Something about the way the shadows hung over his face reminded me how young he really was. I hadn't even noticed him enter the room.
"Two hundred years, and I'll never grow up."
I snapped my attention back to Gerard, but I don't think it ever really left him. "I'm never going to reach twenty. They say living forever makes you grow up, but who are they anyway?"
His eyes never left the windowpane and I wasn't sure if he was really talking to me or the moonlight that carved out his features. "I'll never be any older than nineteen because that's how old I look. I've been to universities, but I'll never be a doctor because I don't look old enough to graduate. I've seen as much blood, but no one would respect me the way they would a weathered soldier. I've watched people grow old and sick and die, but I could never stay with anyone throughout his or her life. I'll never build a relationship with anyone but my brother, because I can't have enough in common with anyone else when humans gain respect, have children, build families—"
He was right. I didn't know what he was going through, but I could still see his face, and that was enough. He was older than my grandfather, but his eyes didn't twinkle in the light. They glistened, the same way they had at the funeral— like his eyes were burning on a point I couldn't see.
"I've only been to two funerals in my— life. My father's, when I was twelve, and Holly's today. In two hundred years, nothing has changed. Vampires don't live forever. We get staked, we stay in the sun… We die. But until death claims us again we stand frozen in time until someone taps the glass hard enough. We sleep in coffins, but the past won't let us lie forever."
Suddenly I was very interested in what it was Gerard was looking at. I half expected to see a bat flapping off through the night, but all I saw was a plastic bag hanging from a telephone pole and blowing in the wind. In the soft glow of the moonlight, it almost looked like a bird tied to those wooden beams.
But it was late, and I was exhausted. I was probably just seeing things.
"I don't know why I'm telling you all this." Gerard stared off into the distance before speaking, drawing his long fingers out from his pockets. They were delicate, young, as fair and fine as lily petals. But the palms were rough and calloused when he clenched his fists. I wondered what could do that to a vampire. Or had it happened before he was turned?
"So what are you looking for here?" I asked again, still scanning my room.
He seemed to be doing the same thing as me, and was completely oblivious to my question. "There must be something…" He said to himself.
"Gerard?"
He looked down to face me, a frown on his face. "There should be something here, something that belongs to her that
I can use to find her. What would she treasure from in here?"
I stared back up at him and bit my lip, unable to speak. So he was still looking for me, even though he saw me die with his own eyes, and saw my body in the coffin.
"She's an angel; they can't just die like everything else." His gaze burned into mine. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this," he admitted. "I saw you at the funeral, so you must know what I'm talking about. Holly was different from anyone I've ever known. But how do you know her?" His stare was growing more intense by the second. "Did Viktor send you?"
"What? No! Of course not!" I shouted. I was fairly sure my eyes shifted color.
"Then how did you know exactly where I would be, completely alone? And what are the chances that you look exactly like—"
"Gerard!" I bit my lip again. "Please try to calm down." I frowned. "Just— listen to me for a second, then you can decide for yourself. If Viktor was waiting all this time to kill you, why wouldn't he have done it before? Why would he pick now? And don't you think I would have come with some kind of weapon or back up if I was really sent here to kill you?" I gestured to the nightgown. There was no way I could hide anything in such a flimsy dress.
He paused. "Your eyes are green. They were brown before. I don't know of any creatures that can change their eye color except vampires and werewolves; but they're not silver or gold…"
I held my breath. Please don't figure it out. Oh my gosh, I must be the worst guardian angel in the world.
"I— I… I'm friends with Damien. He told me that you were going to do something really stupid, and I came to try and stop you," I confessed finally.
Gerard stared at me, and then he nodded. "Okay. That's a more convincing story at least." The vampire let out a bitter laugh. "So, which plan of mine is stupid according to Damien this time?"
"You're going back into Viktor's mansion to try to kill him in his own home! That's exactly what he wants you to do! He devotes all his energy and resources to making you lose your temper and prove that you're just as immoral as him!" I blurted out. Gerard opened his mouth, but I continued. "And you've only got about four people going with you! Do you honestly think that I—" I swallowed. "Do you honestly think that Holly would want you to go on a suicide mission to try and avenge her?"