Hunger Chronicles (Book 1): Life Bites (33 page)

My gut sunk. I swallowed, looking up at Raoul. “Is it true?”

Raoul didn’t answer, simply steered me away from the group of kids.

“Raoul? Is it San Francisco?”

His jaw tightened, but he answered. “Yes.”

I might have fallen if Raoul hadn’t been holding me. As it was, he had to dump the plate of food he’d gathered for me on the nearest table and spin me into a chair. I couldn’t get a breath. I was suffocating.

“Breathe, Eva.”

Breathe? As if. “I want to go home,” I managed between gasps.

He stroked my cheek, his eyes clouded with concern. “Eva.”

“No! I want to go home! Now.” My dad would be panicking. Mom… I needed my mom.

Silence stretched between us. Taylor Swift’s,
Today was a Fairytale
, a blatant mockery to the current catastrophe going on around us. I thought I might have to give in to the hysterics that were riding my shoulders when he finally nodded. “All right, Eva.”

He stood and held his hand out for me, inclining his head toward the doors. I let him pull me up and link my arm through his. I was all too happy to let him weave me in and out of the crowded floor toward the door. I was glad he wasn’t moseying. His pace was fast, clipped, and I had to practically run to keep up. I suppose, perhaps, that I should apologize for my abruptness, by my throat was too tight with fear to do so.

He waved his check stub at the valet, taking the keys off the peg board behind their desk. We made it to the car. Funny. We were the only ones leaving. Guess no one else was going to cut their night short because of some freaky news accounts posted on the internet.

I slid into my seat. Waited impatiently as Raoul closed the door behind me and moved to the driver’s side.

“Thank you, Raoul,” I said as soon as the engine had turned over and he was backing us out of the parking space.

“Not a problem.”

We turned out of the hotel lot onto I-40.

“I’m sorry I ruined the prom for you.” I looked down at my hands. There was no arguing the newscast was alarming, but I had been a bit of a freak back there.

“Eva, I care not for some silly prom. I just wanted the night to be perfect for you.” Raoul’s hands were confident as he maneuvered us onto North Humphrey merging us into the city traffic.

“Thank you, for that.”

I turned back to the window, watching the downtown streets flash by. People were still out. Sitting in bars, laughing, walking down the sidewalks, holding hands. It was as if they were all wearing blinders. If they laughed hard enough, walked far enough, they could escape the horrible images playing on the news.

“Brainwashed,” I whispered, touching the glass.

He looked over at me sharply. “What’s this?”

I shook my head. “Dad was right. Those news reports? They were filled with placating lies. This, this virus, it’s more than just a pandemic. But no one is going to want to believe it now. The government spent too much time trying to keep us calm, and even now, with the warning going out, everyone is going to duck their head in the sand. ‘Not me. Not here. That’s South America. That’s Mexico. That’s California. But not here.’ God, we’re all idiots.”

Silence filled the car for another few blocks. Raoul turned onto Columbus heading out Fort Valley toward my subdivision. “Your father, he is working on a team that is researching this virus, yes?”

“Yeah.”

Houses and shrubs flashed by, beyond that on our left Mars Hill. I thought of the park just a hop skip and jump from my subdivision, the trail I ran up into the mountains. If you kept walking you could be lost in the Kaibab National Forest within hours. Would that be enough? Could we run? Leave everything and everyone behind?

Isolation. It was the only hope. But how were we going to survive like that? Live off the land? That was a joke. Most people couldn’t survive a week in a camper let alone months on end in isolation. My parents and I were no different. I couldn’t even string a worm on a hook, for Christ’s sake. And to actually eat the fish I caught?

An edge of my earlier panic sliced through me, taking hold, freezing my extremities and sending me into a fit of uncontrollable shivers.

“Oh God, Raoul. We’re all going to die.”

“No.”

“No, it’s true. We’re not at all prepared. There’s no way they’re going to be able to stop this thing, either. Have you seen what it does? Have you watched the news reports where they show the victims?” Animals. Rabid dogs. Put them down.

I wrapped my arms around my stomach which had gone into imminent eject mode.

“Oh God. Oh God. We’re going to die. We’re all going to die.” I knew I was hysterical. Didn’t care. All I could think was, “We’re going to die. We’re going to die.”

The car went into a skid. I screamed, bracing my hands on the dashboard as the tires caught and squealed across the blacktop. My eyes widened as I saw us bearing down on a dog that stood in the center of the road. And then we were twisting, the cars back tires spinning in the dirt of the shoulder as Raoul swerved and fought for control.

And then it was over. We were on the side of the road. The car stopped. No damage. A large telephone pole less than two feet in front of us and the dog trotting off the far side of the road.

And that was when I cracked up. I laughed. We could have died. Maybe we should have died. Simpler that way, right?

Hands grasped onto my cheeks, twisting my head around. I couldn’t see, the unshed tears were so thick, my panic so great.

“Look at me, Eva. Look at me!”

I blinked, moisture spilling as I focused my gaze on Raoul’s face. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him so intense. His brow drawn low over his eyes, his jaw popping with tension. Scary almost. If not for the end of the world thing going on.

“I won’t let you die. I’ll protect you.”

“You can’t promise that,” I whispered. I knew what he was trying to do, trying to calm me. Anyone who’d seen the news knew how horrible this pandemic was. And now it was here too. California had been hit. The entire coast. There was no containing that.

Raoul shook his head, his thumb stroking a tear from my cheek, tracings its twin’s path down my neck to the hollow at the base of my throat. “All that doesn’t matter. I love you, Eva. I’ll keep you safe. And I promise, no matter what, I will not allow you to be taken from me.”

He drew me in close. I pressed my face into his chest, my tears soaking into his finely pressed shirt.

Safe. Loved. And never alone. What a nice promise. Too bad he could never keep it.

36.

I wake in the most beautiful cell in the world. It’s so opulent that royalty themselves would beg to be confined here. One problem. I’m not royalty.

I roll over on the plump mattress—soft, but not too soft—and stare out the lead lined windows into the night. I’ve been here three days and so far have been left completely alone. The first day I figured I was being given time to heal. I’d fought Raoul tooth and nail and nearly managed to slit his throat before the queen’s guard had arrived and taken matters into their own hands. Raoul had been holding back, unwilling to truly harm me. The queen’s guard had no such qualms. Even now, three days out and at least one blood transfusion later, I can still feel the aches. How many bones did they break? Don’t know. Enough that they were able to carry my listless body here and plug that first IV in. And I could do nothing about it.

I shall not go swiftly into the night, indeed. My only consolation is I had no control over the fact they’d pumped some poor lamb’s blood into me. I do not forgive the fact that I am bonded to that lamb now. A young girl, hardly more than twelve or thirteen. She is awestruck by her masters and shivers in anticipation of the times they come for her. It’s the only times she feels alive.

I fist my hands in the sateen sheets, pulling long deep breaths in through my clenched teeth. Nothing I can do about it now. Not while I’m trapped in this room. I’m going to need an army to free the huge number of blood slaves here. And even then, they’ll never be completely human again. How can one come back from a state of nothingness?

Someone raps on the door. I shift to a sitting position, pulling the comforter with me. The door opens despite the fact that I haven’t responded. Raoul floats into the room. Okay, not literally, but he might as well have.

When he sees I’m awake he smiles, pushing the door closed behind him. But not before I can see the set of guards outside. “Good evening, Eva. You are looking better.”

I glare at him. “You fed me blood.”

He lifts an eyebrow, managing to look regal. Not many people can do that trick and pull it off without looking comical.

“Human blood,” I spit out the word human, letting it carry the weight of my anger.

He paces around room, fingering the filigree mirror, running his hand over the back of the Queen Anne chair. His tension, though not apparent by a visual inspection, vibrates across the tether connecting us.

“You were dying.” No other explanations. No other excuses. To Raoul this is enough. Despite his mother’s wishes otherwise, he, at least, would not have me dead.

I wait, my silence an accusation. Five or six long minutes later he turns to me, his brows drawn up in a pained crease.

“What would you have had me do?” It’s barely more than a whisper, and bonded as we are, his whispered words slice ribbons into my chest.

I throw the comforter back, leaping out of bed. “Don’t be forcing your feelings on me. Don’t you dare.” I poke him in the chest, hard enough he stumbles back a step. “You’re the one who did this. You’re the one who made me this way.”

He catches my hand, his grip gentle but firm as he wraps his hand around my own and draws it to his chest. “I’d hoped that by now you would have accepted what you are.”

“Then you better think again. I’ll never accept being a
monster
.”

His eyes sadden, but he doesn’t release my hand, his thumb tracing a pattern over the inside of my wrist. “You still have not answered my question. What would you have had me do, Eva?”

I fling my free hand toward the window. “What, you’re telling me there isn’t a zombie in all of Arizona? Because I know there is. I fed from it four days ago.”

His face registers his shock. “You still feed from those vile creatures?”

“Exactly. Creatures. i.e. Not human anymore.”

His mouth twists up in a wry grin. “Ah. My little vegetarian. How I’ve missed you.”

I yank my hand away, surprised he doesn’t fight me, then fold my arms across my chest, as if by doing so I can brace my aching ribs. “Yeah, and such a nice welcome-home party you gave me too.”

The skin around his mouth pulls tight, his nostrils flaring as he tries to regain control. I feel the simmering anger bubbling inside him, threatening to take over. It takes a minute, but soon his face is back to its placid mask.

He takes a step away, moving to the window where he stands, hands laced behind his back. It’s moments like this I realize Raoul is far older than the eighteen year old body he lives in. Of course, I am too, and I’ve only lived in my perpetual seventeen for a year and a half.

“Speaking of creatures. I don’t like the company you’ve been keeping,” he says.

A trickle of alarm races along my spine. I immediately try to stifle it down. This bond goes both ways after all. When I’m pretty sure I have all my emotions tucked away behind a nice clean slate of indifference I answer. “You confuse me, Raoul. I’m not keeping anyone company.”

He turns his head slightly so he can see me out of the corner of his eye. “The werewolf? Eva, a vampire, even a rogue one, should know better than to partner up with one of them.” He turns back around, gliding back to me. Circling, circling. “You can’t trust them, Eva. They’re unpredictable at best. One day, when you don’t expect it, they will betray you.”

He stops in front of me, leaning in close, measuring my reaction. I tip my head back, facing him head on with my challenge. “Then why are you partnering with them?”

“I’ve not partnered with them.” He practically spits the words. “I would never partner with our mortal enemies.”

“Oh? Well I suppose you should explain that to the folks at Nellis Air Force Base. Oh wait, you can’t. Because you and your pack of werewolf buddies killed them.”

He draws back, confusion licking the very air, but I know how deceptive he can be. I’d smelled him there. Him, or at least his Mommy Dearest. And Raoul, being the queen’s heir apparent, would know the five W’s (who, what, where, why, and when) of his mother’s business, wouldn’t he?

I look around the ornate room stuffed with antique furniture, gilded mirrors and all. A fortune lies between these four walls. Many might be happy to live their eternal life out in a prison such as this, not me.

“So, what happens now?” I ask, purposefully keeping my thoughts away from things like escape, journals, or one particularly stubborn werewolf.

Raoul blinks slowly, coming back from wherever his thoughts had taken him. “Now?”

“Yeah, now. I suppose it’s too much to hope that now that we’ve caught up on old times, that you’d be so kind as to let me go.”

“You always made me smile.”

“I don’t see how this is something to smile about.”

“You wouldn’t.” He lifts his hand, brushing fingers against my throat and down across my collar bone, my skin tingling in the wake of his touch. “No, Eva, I’m not going to let you go.”

I jerk back, out of his reach. “Don’t. You have no right to touch me.”

“Vampire law says differently.”

I narrow my gaze, shooting daggers at him from out of my eyes—‘least I try. Guess that’s not one of my vampire powers because he doesn’t even flinch. “You may have turned me—without permission I may remind you—but I’ll never be one of the women in your harem.”

“Oh, Eva. You still don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“That I would never expect you to be.”

I have no idea what to say to that. The power of emotions behind his words is, wow, impressive, and unclear. I don’t understand.

He sighs, turning back to the window. “Who is he?”