Her Yearning for Blood (3 page)

The squirrel’s claws dug into
my
chest
as i
t lunged.

I opened my mouth to scream–

Suddenly, a huge shadow surged out of the roiling
black
fog.
I
fel
t
my
self slipping away
but not before a silver blade swooped out of the
blackness
and sliced neatly through the squirrel’s neck.
Warm b
lood splattered
my
face.

“Hold still,” a familiar voice said as cloth wiped across
my
chin, cheeks
and
forehead.
“They’re attracted to blood.”

My field of vision started to close as
a
masculine
hand
squeez
e
d
blood from
the squirrel’s headless corpse
…onto the
floor of a
d
ark crypt
. I knew I had slipped into the land of dreams, but the thick clots of red liquid beside me seemed important somehow.

I was hungry
.

2

             
Thomas scratched his razor sharp fingernails along the
concrete
wall to let Belinda know he was coming. Being in the final
stage of transition
,
she would be
susceptible to
any
sudden changes
,
especially
surprise visits. Someone just “popping in” could easily
overwhelm her nervous system
and
send
her
body into a mindless rage
, which would
forc
e
her
consciousness
ever-closer to that
precarious
edge
.
Belinda
had one maybe two days remaining a
s herself a
t most.

Thomas didn’t l
ook forward to
giving the order to burn her
but he would.
Such was the responsibility of a clan leader.

A
new
guard stood watch outside
her
locked steel door.
Originally, a
n accountant or bookkeeper
of some form
, he was
calm and matter-of-fact,
exactly the
sort of personality that the c
ouncil
liked to see turned. It had been decades since an
aggressive
or
e
xcitable
vampire
had been allowed into the
Boston
clan. Volatile types
inevitably attracted the attention of human authorities
and
were
harder to control
,
especially as the time for
burning
drew
near
.
No. Accountants, mild-mannered house wives, even classical musicians were
,
surprisingly
, a
much better fit for the brutal and short life
led by members of
the clan.
You needed only
to
look at their last leader for proof.
Belinda had been a
lab analyst
.

The guard bowed and moved to open the door.

Thomas slashed his nails across the blond man’s cheek, just deep enough to teach.

“You always knock first,” he hissed to the novice. “She must be aware that someone is entering!”

The guard
wiped blood from
his
already-healed wounds. Bowing, h
e licked the red liquid from his fingers.

Thomas pounded on the door.

“Belinda,
it’s
Thomas!”

“
Come in
,” came her voice, still strong,
still
in control
. “Come
see what death is like
.”

Thomas
grimaced then
nodded a
t
the guard
to
unlock the
heavy, reinforced
door.

Belinda’s
burn
chamber was as comfortable as
could be devised. Her bed and most of her furnishings had been moved into the concrete room, as had her collection of 80’s rock and pop albums. What was left of
her
obsolete turntable sat in shattered pieces of clear and fake wood plastic on the corner of her
dresser.
A dozen albums and covers had been slashed into ribbons and now decorated the floor like ungainly confetti. The two-shelf album stand beside the bureau, however, remained largely untouched with hundreds of musical choices intact.

“I can
have someone bring you a
nother record player,” he said, turning to his predecessor.

“That would not be w
ise
,” Belinda said from her
standing
perch at the edge of her bed. Steeled into a
semi-
crouch, she looked like a
wild cat waiting to pounce on its prey.
Her
trembling
hand
ran
through snarled
brown
hair. Her black tongue licked across
chapped lips. Flakes of d
ried blood covered
what used to be a
complexion as perfect as pale porcelain.
C
rystal blue eyes were bloodshot with red stains in the corners.
“Music causes my mind to wander.”

“You are looking well,” he said, which was true given that she had spent at least twelve of the last twenty-four hours screaming and digging at the flesh around the iron manacles that bound her wrists and ankles. Only a constant supply of fresh blood had allowed her body to rejuvenate
quickly enough to stay ahead of the
injuries
. He glanced
at
the four adult bodies stacked like discarded luggage beside
h
er bed. Normally, clan members were burned long before they reached this stage. Belinda, however, would choose her own time…or be unable to.

“
Have you verified the rumors?”
she asked.

“Jared and Short William found nothing.”

“What about the trio I sent to Maine?”

“
We think t
hey were intercepted by the Burlington Clan,” Thomas said. “I presume all three are dead.”

Belinda slumped to the bed. “So I should stop fighting. There’s nothing but fire.”

“Do not give up
!
”

Faster than any human eye could have followed, Belinda flew from the bed toward Thomas’ throat. She stopped with a clash of chains less than two feet from him. Her breath smelled of rot and decay.

“
Do
not tell me what to do!” she snarled.

She still had fight left in her.
Thomas would have expected no less of a clan leader, even one so close to the burning. He bowed his head in deference. Regardless of the circumstances
,
she would always be his leader.

“Your Highness, I meant only that there is reason to hope. The trio tracked rumors through a dozen Maine villages and towns. They were on their way to a place called Groacherville when we last heard from them.”

Belinda’s chains clanked as she tested the extent of her shackles. Thomas remained still. A clan leader never backed away from danger. Besides, he knew the chain
s’
limits.

She snarled, backed away and asked, “
Do y
ou
now
believe this rogue vampire exists?”

Thomas nodded.

“
I
can’t speak to his longevity, but I
believe the rumors have some basis in fact. I’ve already sent another team to the Maine town. I’m hopeful.”

“You may go then,” Belinda spat. Then her head sagged. “And I will find some way to survive.”
 
 

Thomas
turned a
nd left.
If vampires had a god, he would have prayed for her success.

3

A familiar
aroma
greeted
me as I
regained consciousness. The earthy
scent
brought a momentary smile to
my f
ace
.
I
remembered
giggling with my friends and
leaning forward in the Groacherville High School auditorium to sniff the back of Evan’s dark hair
. H
e
always
smelled like a forest after a rainstorm.
I
loved that smell.
My
eyes snapped open to s
ee
a long twisted machine—a gun of some form—hanging on a cream colored wall
across
the room
from me
. The
weapon
was bent
as though a giant had decided
to NOT
be shot.

“It was my father’s…in Desert Storm,” a deep voice said. “It got run over by a tank being driven by one of his friends who died
a few minutes later
. My father talked his commanding officer into letting him keep it. He called it the ultimate sad irony of war.”

I
turned to see the
source
of
the woodsy
aroma standing
in the doorway to the
small room I
occupied.
I
was lying on
a
bed.
My
neck sizzled with pa
in
as I shifted to see
Evan
better
.
My
body felt as though
it
had
spent time
over a charcoal brazier
.
I
remembered the fire ants.

“You found me
…
at the base?”

Evan nodded.
“You and six others
.
”
 

“Rachel, Amanda?”

Though
he and the girls
had
not
exactly been friends
, everyone knew everyone in Groacherville.
He shook his head.
“If they were at the
base
, they got out okay.”

“
I saw you
kill a squirrel.”

“It wasn’t a squirrel anymore,” Evan said.

I
shuddered
recalling
the creature’s fang-filled m
aw and nasty attitude to match. Then I remembered the
beheading
and mutilation
. Suddenly, crush or not,
I
wasn’t su
re
I
wanted to be alone with Evan.
I
tried to sit up, but the effort sent a wave of stinging pain across
my
chest and legs.
My
skin felt like
it had been s
corched with a torch
.
I
slumped
back to the pillow.
Even that hurt.

“Why did you squeeze
out
its
blood?”
I asked.

“It was the only way to get the ants away from you
. They wanted blood, so I made it easy for them
.
Look,
I know you have questions and I promise
they’ll be time to talk later.
But, r
ight now
,
I need you to call your parents and let them know you’re okay and
that
you’re at a party I’m having at my Aunt Stephanie’s house.”

Mrs. Stephanie Groacher was the school nurse who also ran the Groacherville Health Clinic two nights a week and on Saturdays. No one at school liked her.

Evan
took two steps into
the room and hand
ed
me
a familiar pink flip phone. It must have fallen out of
my pock—

I
suddenly realized
I
was naked except for bra and panties
!
Fortunately
,
a sheet
covered me
but
I yanked it up to my
neck, paying the price in agonizing pain flash
ing
across
my
entire
torso
.

I
gasped.

“
C
areful,” Evan said. “
The next few hours aren’t going to be easy.
A
fter that,
though, my aunt says
you should be okay.”

“Where are my clothes?”
I
glar
ed
at him.

“D
on’t worry. My aunt undressed you. She’s in the living room taking care of the boys.”
Just then the pink phone rang. He glanced at the screen. “I’m assuming ‘the wardens’ are your parents?”
He held the phone out.

I
took it.

“It’s probably best if you don’t tell them you’ve been hurt
,
”
Evan said.

“Why not?”
I
asked.

The ringer was still going off.

“Because
then I couldn’t protect you
and r
eally bad things
c
ould happen to
everyone I found at Fort Groacherville
.”

Though
I
had been only a toddler when
the Army base
was
in
operation
,
just
hearing him say the name of the place
sent jitters through
my
mind.
How had I been so stupid to go to th
e abandoned base, especially when I knew
the boys at school
had been
intent on finding its underground secrets
?
I
let the phone ring one more time before answering.

“KK, are you alright?”
my
mother asked breathlessly. “I’ve been trying to call for almost an hour. Amanda and Rachel
have both been calling
. They said you got separated earlier but neither one
knew
where you were
. O
r
maybe
they didn’t want to tell me.
Then I heard the police
had
sent both cruisers over to the fort.
”

For the briefest of moments,
I
considered
tell
ing
her everything—about the explosions, running
through smoke
with crutches
,
the fire ants, everything—but
I
stopped
my
self. There Evan was, only two feet from
me
, not just noticing
me
but talking to
me
, his perfect
pale
complexion squinted in sympathy.
I
had been
trying
desperately
to get his attention for two years, and now that
I
had it
I
wasn’t about to screw
everything up
…
not just to slake my mother’s curiosity.

“Everything’s
okay
, Mom.
I’m at a party with some other kids from school.”

“Oh,”
my
mother said, her voice hesitant
,
“
s
ince when do you go anywhere without Rachel?”
She
didn’t say anything about Amanda because
we both knew that though
the beautiful blond
h
ad
attached herself to Rachel and me during the previous school year, I had never really considered her a
friend.
At any moment, I expected her to
return to the cheerleading crowd
.

“
I’m going to have your
father to pick you up
.
”

“No you’re not!” I s
napped.
“You’re always telling
me to go out more
. Now that I am, you want to
stop me. Besides, how many other parties do you think I’ll get invited to if you make me leave
now
?”

“So why isn’t Rachel with you?”

I had to think quickly
.
Rachel and I had been inseparable since before I could remember. Sometime during middle school my parents had started referring to her as their second daughter, and Rachel’s grandmother also treated me like part of the family.
L
ike most teens
,
I had long ago learned that the
most believable
lies were the ones that were almost true.

“She’s been seeing a new kid who moved into her apartment complex. The other kids don’t really know him yet,
so I guess he didn’t get invited.
”

“Next time, I want to know about any parties in advance,” my mother said.

“Yeah, okay.”

“I also want phone numbers and an address for wherever you are. And I want to know exactly when you’re going to be back.”

“
W
hat’s the address here?”
I
whispered to Evan with
my
hand over the receiver.

“
Tell her 6
Riverview Drive
,” Evan said. “You’re actually at my house
, b
ut it would be better if
s
he thought you were at
my aunt’s house.”

I
opened
my
mouth to ask why it mattered but
clamped
it shut again.
What did I care?
Being at Evan’s house, even if only as his aunt’s patient, w
as
good enough.
I
gave
my
mother the Riverview address
and
explained
that
it was going to be a slumber party.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,”
she
said. “What about your leg?”

“M
y knee feels fine,”
I
lied. “Besides Mrs
. Groacher is
the next best thing to a doctor
.
”

“
Well, I want to talk to her!
”
my mother
informed me
.

I
roll
ed
my
eyes for Evan’s benefit.

“Yeah, I guess you can talk with her. Hold on.”

I
held the phone out to
Evan who
took it
and went
in search of his aunt. He returned a few minutes later. “
You
’re all set. My aunt promised to chaperone the
‘
party
’
and bring you home
Sunday
afternoon.”

“
That’s when I’ll get grounded and your aunt will get a call,” I said. “
My mother
will
know something was up
as soon as she sees all these ant bites.”

“You
’ll
be healed by then,” Evan said, pla
c
ing
my
pink phone on the night stand beside the bed. The sleeves of his blue button-up shirt were rolled up, revealing pale muscular forearms. Over the last few years he had grown to look like a gymnast or a bodybuilder, yet he had not played team sports or seriously worked out in the school gym since
w
e were in elementary school.
Other than helping to coach girls’ soccer because his niece was on the team
, I had never seen him near a sports field.

“Nothing heals
in two days
,”
I
informed him.

“That’s why my aunt told your mother the party was for the whole weekend. She promised you’d be home by Sunday afternoon.”