Immortal Storm (13 page)

April 25, 1598

Ironic it is that Spring blossoms amidst the trail of deathe we leave behind. To know that salvation was so close to our befallen colonie twists at my too, too still heart. I am again reminded that my hopes full of optimism were stolen by the nightmare that was thrust upon me. I spend my days sleeping like the dead, hidden from my maker, and the nightes are filled with chase, sometimes as the hunter, sometimes as the hunted.

My path has become clear. I must destroy Barwicke, he cannot be allowed to roam free, destroying all that he comes near. To that ende I must stay close. He has made no secrete about laying claim on my head for my mutinous attempt. His minions have been charged with my capture and torture, but my demise shall be at the hands of the master. Already the hunt tires me.

I have found no place safe and I dare not seek out humanity, fore I would be as dangerous to them as Barwicke. I am resigned to the wilderness where my sustenance is founde in the savage wildlife. I cannot bear taking human life, despite its siren call. Responsible I cannot be for luring the Master and his coven to destroy more people, colonists or natives. The forest shall provide my final resting place. I have but one task to accomplish
…

Chapter Fifteen

“Okay, so I was thinking that after we open next week we can go out for a celebratory drink. It’s not like we haven’t earned it!” Golden waves fell past her shoulders as she unwound her bun. Dori thought it was completely unfair that her friend could just tousle her hair and it looked perfect.

“I just heard about this new place, they have karaoke. It would be so much fun!” The southern twang rang through the air, making everything this girl said seem all the more debonair. Her turquoise eyes met Dori’s with so much enthusiasm that it was nearly impossible to say no. Her cheeks were still flushed from the exertion of the rehearsal. Dori noticed her ever present smile and she knew that it was pointless to try to refuse.

“Addison, I have to let Michael know, and I am NOT singing!” Addison actually bounded across the dressing room and hugged Dori with a squeal of delight. Her energy was endless. Any normal human would have been exhausted after the eight hour rehearsal; of course Dori was fine, but the petite, blonde spitfire was as exuberant as a schoolgirl. How was it possible to be so happy?

“You are going to have so much fun, and you
will
sing!” Dori chuckled. There was no way a human, not even this human, could force her to sing. Addison prattled on, sounding more like a teenager than an adult while Dori pondered this enigmatic creature.

From the first moment she spoke, Addison addressed Dori as if they had been best friends for years. She had skipped over the awkward introductions and all the trite customs of befriending someone. Addison simply became a part of Dori’s world, never doubting that they would be friends. She was all confidence and sunshine. Addison unconditionally accepted her and never questioned anything that may have set her apart from the rest of the crowd.

Before the end of auditions it seemed as if Dori knew Addison’s whole history. She told the story of her grandparents’ trip across the ocean and how they settled here in Virginia. She had mentioned how religious her father was because he had been dragged to every Greek Orthodox service and how he in turn dragged her. Of course she was the favorite grandchild because she was blonde, a rarity in the Hadad family. She had been doted on more than any of her siblings. She explained with a giggle how she asked her “
Sitoo
”, her grandma, to pay for ballet dance classes and her grandma agreed enthusiastically, thinking she said “belly dance” classes. She went on and on without letting Dori get in a word edgewise. While the other ballerinas shied away from Addison’s banter, Dori was calmed by the warmth that beamed from her colleague.

“So I was thinking that you and Michael should come over sometime for dinner. I would love to meet your other half. It’s so nice to hear of a guy who is so supportive of his wife’s dreams. Normally guys think that ballet is for kids.” Addison was still monopolizing the conversation. Monologue might be a better word thought Dori. It was nice to be around Addison. Conversation with her was effortless, but they were both comfortable with silence too. That didn’t happen much because Addison always found something to gush about.

“Well, I guess I will see you tomorrow. Be sure to soak those feet. If yours hurt half as much as mine do, tomorrow is going to be brgoie toutal,” and with that she ducked her head into her car. The sound of her door shutting announced the end of the conversation, although Dori knew that tomorrow she would pick up where she left off. Dori smiled as she realized that she enjoyed Addison’s carefree spirit. Her presence lightened the day and made Dori happy. It had been a while since she had enjoyed human companionship.

Rehearsal the next day was as brutal as Addison had feared and Dori was thankful for the physical advantages that she had. By the end of the week everyone was sore and exhausted. Despite the fact that Dori was fine, she felt the need to act as worn-out as her colleagues. They were rehearsing an avant-garde repertoire that was set to open shortly and the director, Robert Haines, was tyrannical in his desire for perfection. Some of the other corps members had actually pushed themselves to the point of injury trying to meet his expectations.

At the end of the night, dancers limped out of the theater whispering complaints and tending their wounds. Dori was acutely aware of another necessity of hers that required attention. All of the extra physical demands were taking their toll and she had to feed more often. Her limbs ached with the familiar burn, throbbing rhythmically just as her heart once did. Although the searing pain was not new to her, trying to control her instincts and not kill her fellow dancers annoyed her. She was rushing to get out of the theater and away from people so she could give in to her senses and numb the fire consuming her. To call her irritable would have been an understatement. She was going to have to feed early in the morning and at night if she wanted to keep up this schedule and not make front page news for killing half of the Richmond Ballet.

Addison’s perky questioning only slowed her slightly and she darted onto the street. The hurt in her friend’s eyes was clear as Dori snubbed her. Addison’s youthfulness doubled when her eyes were full of shock and sadness. Dori jumped into her car and threw it into gear. Other drivers slammed on their brakes as she sped out into traffic. Dori jammed her foot to the floor and she was able to breathe easier as the buildings slowly gave way to the suburbs and the quaint houses gave way to the trees. She pulled onto a dirt road and followed it into the forest, unsure of where it led. She was out of the car and engaged in the hunt instantaneously, ready to prey on the first thing that crossed her path.

She fed without reservation. It had been a while since her hunting had been this brash. She drank without tasting, killed without care, dropping each carcass as she emptied it, incensed by her ultimate need for self-fulfillment. She slowed only after her stomach was uncomfortably bloated. The pandemonium of her need ebbed, and she was able to relax and think sanely again. She paused to sit on the forest floor, hidden from the moonlight in the shadow of a large black locust tree.

Dori looked around at the peaceful night. A deer scraped its antlers in the distance. There were some raccoons chattering in a den nearby. If she listened very carefully she could even make out the sound of an insect struggling in a spider web a few yards away. Normally, the sounds of night relaxed Dori. She had always loved the peace she found in the darkness, but tonight something was different. It was impossible to relax despite her full belly and the warm euphoria that usually followed a good meal. She looked around and saw nothing out of the ordinary but she still couldn’t shake her unsettled feeling.

“
Don’t move, Ballerina Girl, therind ebbedy are everywhere.”

She didn’t breathe. She didn’t move. She called upon her senses trying to figure out what Grandma was talking about. They had approached silently. There hadn’t been any motion, but suddenly she was surrounded. One by one, different pairs of eyes appeared in the night, staring at her. These weren’t friendly eyes, and the sheer number terrified her. She wasn’t used to the acrid taste of choking fear. Her survival instincts were screaming for her to flee, but she knew that would not end nicely.

The eyes stared. The faces they belonged to were still obscured in the darkness. These eyes were neither human nor animal and she realized instantly that she was surrounded by dozens of vampires. She looked around nervously, trying to assess the situation while the hostility rolled off of her visitors in waves. Their eyes were flat: there was nothing below the surface, yet they darted around erratically. They were sizing her up, wild with their searching. She could feel their gaze on her body and the hair on her arms stood on end. This was bad.

Without a decisive movement, one of them was in front of her. He crouched to her level. It was more like a fog had rolled in and then materialized into something solid, than if the vampire had taken a step forward. It all happened so quickly that she actually felt a twinge of nausea in her stomach. She remained motionless, not wanting to trigger the attack instinct that was most likely growing in each of her onlookers.

The male that had approached her, whom she took to be the leader of this coven, was extending a long, bony hand toward her face. His expression exuded malice and intrigue at the same time. Bile rose in her throat as she realized he was going to touch her. His clothes, or what used to be clothes, hung in tatters from his skeletal frame. Crooked teeth were rotting in his haggard face and his eyes were sunken in. He looked as if he hadn’t fed in ages. A smile - which could have also passed for a grimace - stretched into the hollows of his cheeks. A strange, broken hiss escaped from his clenched teeth and Dori thought that it might be laughter.

“What have we here?” His voice was no more than a raspy whisper. His breath washed over her face, reeking of putrid carrion and stinging her eyes. She shut her mouth with an audible snap; it was the only way to keep from screaming as his fingertips brushed along her cheekbone. A shiver crawled up her spine, and the tiny movement set the rest of the vampires in motion. They began to converge on her and the leader interceded, his bony fingers still tracing her face.

“Not yet, my pets.” The attackers fell still.

Dori’s brain was racing as she tried to figure a way out of this predicament. She wanted Michael, not that two of them could beat this huge coven, but having a companion would at least comfort her a little.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not safe to wander the woods at night?” A fine trail of spittle leaked out of his mouth and dripped down his chin. The rest of them were fidgeting and she heard the sound of lips smacking. It seemed as though they were getting ready to enjoy a long overdue meal. “You never know what you might run into!” The sound of his hoarse laughter echoed off the trees and his minions followed suit, hysterical shrieks piercing the night. Then everything was still.

Dori could feel the tension growing impossibly tg ierchicker and she knew that attack was imminent. Without consciously thinking about it, her survival instinct took over. She began to focus on the trees, snapping the tops off about halfway up. Without hesitation an invisible force threw the splintered trees to the ground, crushing some of the predators around her. They were taken off guard and she took advantage of their momentary distraction. She was up and running as fast as her feet could carry her. She leapt over boulders and took to the tree-tops when necessary to navigate the labyrinth before her. As she passed a mound of rocks, they were instantly hurtling through the air, taking out a few more of her pursuers, but nothing seemed to touch the leader who moved as quickly as she did. He hovered just behind her, more like a ghost than a vampire. He was tormenting her, letting her escape, just like she had done to Michael so often before. All of her attempts at thwarting him came up empty; a mist couldn’t be harmed. Dori was running blind. She didn’t see what was ahead until it was too late. Her muscles locked in place as the stone escarpment came into view. There was nowhere to go except straight up. She could climb the rock wall, but it would slow her down tremendously. She knew she had lost and the eerie laughter that seemed to surround her confirmed her fears. Gasping for breath, she turned around and saw that the mist was all around her, touching her hair, licking at her ankles, surrounding her torso.

It was too late to do anything. The chase had enraged and excited this vampire, and before she could speak, a set of teeth had clamped down on her neck. His mouth seared her flesh and his bite tore through her repeatedly. She was being taken against her will, her muscles instantly weakened by the loss of blood. It felt as if her life was being ripped away, leaving huge gaping wounds where she clung to her very self with the last of her strength. She was struggling to breathe when he materialized, his legs and arms wrapped around her, subduing her. It reminded her of the spider, feasting on the struggling insect earlier. His mouth released her neck only to find her wrist where he tore into her again. A new pain seared through her body and it became difficult to struggle. He bit her again and again, his attack losing the violent edge as her thrashing slowed. Her vision blurred and faded. There couldn’t be much left in her for this beast to take. Finally, he released her and her body slumped to the ground. She bled from more than a dozen different wounds. He stood over her, his body replenished, and he licked his lips. Impossibly slowly, he bent over her and whispered in her ear, “Until we meet again...”