Cave of Terror (8 page)
The moon lit the street, making it easy to see in the dark. It was a good thing, because all the lights were out for some reason. We had one light across from our house that never came on because the sensor thing-a-ma-jig was covered by a huge tree. I glanced up to the top of the pole near where we walked. No trees anywhere near it. Strange.
The brisk wind picked up speed, blowing the hat off my head. I chased after it as it continued to roll down the street on its side. Mandy's laughter faded as I continued to follow after the errant hat. Before long, the distance between me and Mandy had increased to an uncomfortable one.
A whiff of almonds touched my nose. I paused, only too aware of what that meant. The warning Mom and Dad had imparted before I left flashed into my mind—
never be alone
. My gums began to burn with a vengeance.
A cloud eclipsed the moon and darkened the neighborhood, casting every object in shadows. Only one porch light was visible and too far away to make a difference. If it wasn't for my enhanced vision, I wouldn't have been able to see a thing. As it was, I could no longer see Mandy.
I was alone.
Panic surged through me as my hair was snatched off my neck and something wet and demanding brushed against my throat. I twirled around, lashing out at the unseen evil lurking in the dark. Deep laughter vibrated against my eardrums. My chest constricted—the malicious intent too much to process at once. Hot, stinky breath fanned across my face.
I shuddered. The threat was real.
"Hey, Cheyenne, where are you?” Mandy shouted.
Oh, God, I didn't want Mandy to be in danger.
"Stay put. Wait until the clouds move past. I just stepped into a hole and almost twisted my ankle. I can hardly see anything,” I yelled back at her.
"Oh, okay. But it's kind of creepy out here. I swear I keep feeling something touching me, brushing against me."
My heart slammed in my chest.
No, not Mandy
.
"It's me you want, you evil bastard,” I said under my breath, trying to keep the attention on me. “Leave her alone."
More laughter. It taunted me.
"What do you want?” My voice rose with alarm.
"Mmm ... you,” the slimy voice answered. “The sweet scent of your blood makes me crazy with wanting. And the rhythm of your pulse teases me."
Don't show your fear. Don't show your fear
.
Fear triggers certain animals to attack, but I had no idea if those words of caution would help against an otherworldly creature. Still, it couldn't hurt. Besides, I'd read that some sickos use fear like an aphrodisiac.
I fought for courage, attempting to quell the adrenaline surging through my veins. “Well, you're gonna have to keep on wanting cause I ain't putting out for the likes of you."
It chuckled in a feral kind of way. “Fear does turn me on, but I rather like your feisty side. It'll be a joy breaking you."
The bastard read my mind. Irritation began to overtake my fear. If it wanted to hurt me, it would've already done so by now. It wanted to toy with me. “I'm not a horse in case you haven't noticed."
"I'm really going to enjoy what I have planned for you, my little defiant one. And I do want to hurt you. But you're right, I want to play with my prize before I make my ... kill."
"Who are you talking to?” Mandy interrupted our conversation, causing me to direct my attention back on the full danger of the situation.
"I'm just cursing to myself. I tripped over something in the street."
Suddenly, it embraced me from behind. The breath whooshed out of my lungs.
The vise around my waist tightened, making it difficult to inhale or speak. “Make no mistake. I can and will have you. It's just a matter of when,” it said into my ear.
I was released as quickly as I'd been seized. Air filled my burning lungs. I hacked and clutched my chest. My legs buckled and I dropped to the rough pavement, bruising my knees and skinning my hands. I jerked my head around, looking for the sadistic bastard.
No longer did I sense the suffocating evil. It was gone.
Light began to pool around me. I glanced up and watched the dark clouds feather and separate, allowing the moon's glow to peek through again.
Mandy's footsteps slapped against the asphalt, alerting me she approached. I ran my tongue across my incisors and flinched. I dragged in deep breaths, trying to calm myself, hoping my fangs would retract before Mandy caught up.
Sooner or later, I'd have to tell her—just not now. Not before even I knew what was fully going on with me, with everything. My life was seriously spiraling down the toilet at a rapid rate.
"Hey, you okay?” Mandy asked once she reached me.
"Yeah, I scratched up my hands when I fell.” I made like I was checking out my hands, buying a little time to return to normal.
"That was really creepy—how dark it got. And I had like bugs or something that kept landing on me.” She shook her head and grimaced. “I hate bugs."
"I know, I know. It's hard to believe you can tumble on a four inch beam, but you're scared of a little bug.” I laughed, hoping to lighten the mood.
"Those bugs were huge, thank you. Besides, bugs bite."
Yeah, especially the
bugs
she referred to.
When we reached the car, Mandy beeped her alarm off, and we slid into the front seats. My shoulders slumped as I sighed in relief. I used to think I was an adrenaline junkie, but I'll be rethinking the whole fright for fun thing.
We pulled into my driveway at exactly eleven. I told Mandy goodbye and hurried into the house.
As I'd expected, Mom and Dad eagerly awaited my return. Both already had on their sheer, cobalt blue
clice
robes. The crystals and gold trim shimmered in the entry way lighting. Mom extended her hand, my specially made robe dangling from her fingers. I slipped it on. The silkiness of the fabric whispered across my skin. It was like no material I'd ever felt. Mom turned and proceeded to Dad's office. As I followed, I studied our
clice
symbol ornately stitched on the back of Mom's robe. It seemed to glow with its own inner light. I blinked, checking to see if my eyes played tricks on me—a mere illusion of my mind. It was probably enchanted. I smiled to myself. At this point, anything was possible.
Dad pushed open the door to his office and ushered us in. The room had been transformed much like the one where I had my induction the night before. Blue and white candles of varying height flickered from every available surface, casting shadows through the dimly lit area. The pungent, musty fragrance of patchouli added warmth and atmosphere to the room. Eight of the
clice
ancients were present, obviously waiting for my appearance. I placed my hands palms together in front of me, touched my forehead, and bowed as I had been instructed to do when greeting the ancients. I received a bow in return.
All present lifted their hoods, setting their faces in shadows. I did the same, not wanting to appear ignorant of the ritual. Dad crossed to his floor-to-ceiling book shelf, moved a few items, and jiggled something toward the back. I frowned and pursed my lips, wondering what the heck he was doing. A click sounded, and the shelf slid to the left, revealing a small recessed room.
I gasped and gave Mom a questioning look. She just smiled. Okay, so there were yet more secrets to learn. My mouth dropped open as I studied the intricate beauty of the room. The wood-planked walls bore lace-like carvings surrounding a large rendition of our
clice
symbol that centered above the table at the front of the room, like the altar in churches—blue vines twined into a heart with a black ‘P’ woven into the design. Soft blue lights created a luminous radiation that bathed the room in a calming aura. Mom stepped forward and lit the candles.
A crisp flow of air brushed by me. Almonds lightly peppered my senses. I froze.
No. Not in my home.
Roxie barked just outside the door, scratching the wooden surface with her sharp nails.
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I glanced around the room. No one else seemed to notice the vile intruder. Could I be imagining it? Another whoosh of air circled me, then disappeared. I lifted my nose, attempting to locate a whiff of almonds. The barking stopped.
The unwelcomed guest no longer remained.
How did it get in here in the first place? Didn't vampires and other such entities have to be invited into a home? No, of course not. Most of the myths I'd grown up hearing ended up being a bunch of b.s. anyway. Why would this be any different? Not that I believed in myths, but then again, I had never believed in vampires either.
Amarande, the oldest of the
clice
, raised his arms and the room quieted. “We have gathered tonight to explore recent happenings revolving around our young Cheyenne. We may be witness to an event I've only had the honor of being part of once in my long life. This could be a huge blessing to our
clice
, taking us into a new century."
All gazes fixed on me. I gulped. My stomach dropped and fluttered like the sickly sensation you get when you're on a plummeting rollercoaster. I chewed the inside of my cheek. Whatever would be revealed I wasn't gonna like. I didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure that one out.
"Cheyenne, come to me child.” Amarande motioned for me to step forward. On wobbly legs, I complied. He lifted his aging hand and stroked a finger along my heated cheek, then tilted my chin up to meet his weathered face. “Your parents have informed me of what occurred within the cave. We need you now to tell us in your own words everything that happened. And it's also important we know what you felt as the events took place—specifically your body's reactions. Do you understand?"
"Yes.” After I explained the whole experience and added in what had happened after the party, everyone had the same expressions on their faces as my parents had when I first told them what had happened. Apparently, it was a little more than a big deal. No one said a word. They just let me keep gabbing until I had nothing left to say. I folded my hands in front of me, waiting for someone to say something. Anything. I was starting to get really wigged out. I felt as if I was on display at a freak show.
Finally, Amarande spoke, but not what I expected to hear, “Take off your robe, please."
Mom and Dad nodded, encouraging me to do as he said. I undid the clasp at my throat and slid the robe off.
"Turn around,” he said as the rest of the group circled me.
I twirled and faced the closed door. Amarande lifted my shirt, then tugged down the band of my pirate pants near my right hip. Omigod! What the heck was he doing? Gasps exploded through the small room. I twisted my head, trying to see what the fuss was about. And why were Mom and Dad just standing there, eyes wide?
"She bears the mark,” several of the ancients said in unison, excitement lacing their words.
I felt the blood drain from my face. “What mark? Please tell me. You're scaring me.” I panted, my ribs expanding and contracting in short jerky movements.
Amarande grasped my shoulders. “Cheyenne Wilde, you are our first
Vanator
in over five hundred years."
"Huh? What's ... a ...
Vanator
?” My voice shook. I really didn't want to know, but I didn't figure I had a choice. I pulled the waistband of my pants back up.
Amarande smiled, showing amazingly well preserved teeth. “The most rare and coveted ability a female could ever hope to possess."
I looked at Mom and Dad. Based on the pained expression upon both their faces, they didn't share his opinion.
That didn't bode well for me.
"Great. But, what does it mean to me?” I took a deep breath and braced myself for the answer.
"You, my dear, are a hunter.” Amarande acted as if the news should please me.
"A hunter of
what
?” I really didn't want to know the answer to this one either, but the question flew out of my mouth before I could stop it. I took another deep breath and let it out slowly.
"All things evil.” His eyes brightened to a crystal blue, reminding me of the new guy who had my guts twisted in a knot.
I scrunched up my face, trying to process what he had just imparted. “What do you mean? Like Buffy the Vampire Slayer?” He had to be messing with me. This was seriously getting stupid. Way too gay for me.
"No, I wouldn't exactly say like Buffy because ... she's not real.” He pierced me with a penetrating stare. “You are."
Oh, my God! He
was
for real. I was supposed to be some kind of evil hunter? Or hunter of evil? Whatever. The whole thing sounded horrible. And was I qualified to do it? Seriously? Now, ask me to do a standing back on a four inch beam, and I'm your girl. Or fly through the air doing a double off the bars. But a hunter? Of evil
what
?
My mind spun in about a hundred different directions. I couldn't even begin to comprehend what this meant to my life. Would I have to go around carrying a stake and plunge it into the heart of some evil creature? The whole concept veered so far from reality that being a vampire now seemed normal. I shook my head to clear my mind. Maybe I'd wake from the dream and everything would be back the way it was before my birthday. I'd gladly give back my driver's license to have a do over.
"Cheyenne?” I heard Mom talking, but she appeared fuzzy. “Are you okay?"
I blinked several times to clear my vision. “No, I'm really not okay. I just want to go back to being me. The way I was before all this weirdness."
My throat burned with unshed tears. I desperately wanted to run to my room and hide away from the world. Away from these people who wanted me to be something I didn't want to be.
Had anyone bothered to ask what I wanted?
I clenched my fists and ground my teeth together. My stomach churned, and a dam threatened to burst, releasing the burning liquid in my eyes.
"I know, baby. It's hard to take all this in at one time, but it'll be all right.” Mom pulled me into her embrace and held me tight. “We'll make it right."
