Love & War Book 1 in the Arcadia Falls Chronicles (11 page)

Alice is becoming a powerful weapon. I
despise talking about her that way, but each day her magic grows a
little bit more. She practices all the time, and studies ancient
books in hopes that she will find more on what she can do. She is
most likely more powerful than any of us are.

My mother would be proud of us, I think. My
mother, whose destiny to save the world from vampires changed when
she discovered me inside of her womb. She passed that destiny on to
me and took another for herself. Her fate was to die protecting the
one who stole her destiny.

Her death wasn’t an accident, everything
that happens is guided by the gods or fate, or something …

~~~***~~~

Large, fat snowflakes fell gently from the
moody, grey sky.

I tilted my head and let the flakes fall
onto my face, tempted to stick out my tongue and catch them like I
did when I was a little girl.

“You ready?” Drew called out.

“I am!” Alice’s voice rang across the snow
covered field.

Shaking off the memories and the wet snow, I
snapped back to attention. “Me, too. I’m ready.” I spread my arms
wide, focusing my energy and imagining what I wanted it to do. The
heat flowed and expanded in my body, making its way outward until
two flaming spheres appeared in my palms. The fire danced and
swirled, just waiting to be released.

I moved my gaze back to Alice, who looked
like a snow princess in her white coat with fur trim and matching
boots. Her whole outfit was white, even her jeans. She wore her
blonde hair down to cover her ears, instead of her usual ponytail,
and she had twin short swords crossed at her back, replacing her
customary hip sword. Her hands were up and at the ready.

Still hesitant, even though we had done this
before, I pulled back and launched my flaming spheres at her.

Between her extended hands a wavering glow
appeared. The gentle glow moved like the ripples when you touched
still water. My fire balls hit the glowing shield and absorbed
right into it. Thank God. Those fireballs could cause some serious
damage if they had actually hit her.

As soon as the shield had completely
absorbed the fire, I charged her.

She saw me coming and expanded her shield
wider. I knew I wouldn’t be able to penetrate it, so I dug my boots
into the snow and pushed off, sailing right over the top of her
head. While I was over her, she spun, letting down her shield and
drawing her swords simultaneously.

My gun was out of its holster before I even
landed. I stuck the landing and had the weapon aimed between her
swords, directly at her heart.

READ AN EXCERPT FROM SAVIOR

A FULL LEGNTH NOVEL BY JENNIFER MALONE
WRIGHT

Sweltering heat emanated from the searing
flames. Alex ignored his blistered skin and burnt clothes. He
plunged both arms into the blazing orange inferno without a second
thought for his own well-being. His hands frantically flailed until
he found what he searched for. He pulled the charred remains up and
hugged them to his chest before he gave a desperate glance toward
the others.

Smoke curled into his mouth and nose and
made it nearly impossible to breathe.

“
Hurry, hurry. Get out now,” a gentle
voice whispered into his ears. “You must go right now if you want
to live.”

However, he couldn’t leave them behind.

“
Go now,” the voice whispered more
urgently.

Sparks flew when a giant log broke in half
and fell from the ceiling. It crashed onto the floor less than two
feet from where Alex stood. Flames engulfed the fallen wood and
created yet another obstacle.

The voice tried again, crying out, “Hurry,
Alex!”

Alex knew he needed to move if he wanted to
live, but he paused for a moment to question whether he even wanted
to bother. The flames grew while Alex stood motionless, undecided.
Suddenly, a great push from behind thrust him forward toward a wall
of fire.

***

Alex stirred in his mahogany coffin, one of
the best money could buy. He felt the soft, white velvet lining rub
against his cheek, but it didn't comfort him. He panted like a
thirsty dog and writhed helplessly inside the narrow wooden
box.

His eyes snapped open. First, he checked his
hands for burns, but he found none. He groaned while he became more
aware, and realized he'd had another nightmare.

He sighed, wondering if the recurring dreams
were going to last forever. He reached up and unlatched the locks
he’d installed for his own safety, or at least his peace of mind.
He pushed open the lid and sat upright. His gaze wandered across
the room while his mind tried to fight off the feeling of dread he
had about the night ahead.

In the center of a large stone room that was
buried deep beneath his house, his coffin rested on a massive stone
slab with Egyptian hieroglyphic carvings around its edges. The
carvings read, ‘Death is not but eternal life.’ The slab and coffin
were the focus of the room, with the only other items being his
slippers and a small table that held a candelabra and a box of
wooden matches.

Alex lit a match and touched it to the
candle wicks. A soft glow lit the room and let him safely climb out
of his coffin. When he slammed the lid shut, the hollow sound
reverberated off the stone walls and quickly died. He wedged his
large feet into his slippers, padded to the wide steel door and
punched a series of numbers into an electronic keypad. The door
emitted a soft whooshing sound when the lock released.

Yawning, he stepped through the door and
into a maze of tunnels that worked their way into deadly traps
scattered throughout his underground chamber. Another whoosh
signaled the door locking behind him. With the candelabra in his
right hand, Alex moved through the maze and watched the flickering
shadows play on the walls.

Alex stopped short and blinked. He saw what
he thought was Malcolm's face, shining menacingly in the light
ahead. He held the candles out toward the face, but the image
wavered in the candlelight and disappeared.

Hmmmm
, he thought,
perhaps the
night ahead will prove eventful after all.  

Except for his echoing footsteps, the
tunnels were deadly silent. Once he reached the end of the tunnels,
he faced yet another heavy steel door with an electronic lock.
Again, Alex entered a code on a keypad and exited the tunnels into
a small closet.

Finally, he came to a thick oak door that
simply needed a key. He removed the key from the pocket of his
pajama shirt. Alex unlocked the door, entered the actual bedroom of
his house, and relocked the entryway to the tunnels like he always
did.

More out of habit than concern, Alex scanned
the room with all his senses. Despite popular legend, the many
mirrors in the room reflected his image off each other.

Alex gazed longingly at the four poster bed
in which he never slept. The thick mattress was clothed in burgundy
blankets with piles of decorative pillows scattered across the head
of the bed. Burgundy and black dominated the color scheme: black
carpet, burgundy walls, and sheer black curtains shading the
windows.

Preferring the softer light of candles, he
bypassed the light switch and went to the dressing table. He placed
the candelabra on the table and picked up a candle that stood in a
golden holder with biblical carvings on its base. Each time he lit
the candle he was reminded of his time in Rome. The things there
were so beautiful he couldn’t resist bringing something home for
himself.

Alex knew his hobby of decorating bordered
on obsessive. He brought back things from his journeys all over the
world to put in his main house in Reno. But his house was
finished.

On top of that, his casinos practically ran
themselves. His place on the Higher Collective only occupied him
every now and then.

He found it an awful feeling, having no
purpose.

He tried to ignore the weakness that plagued
his body with pain, indicating it was time to feed again. Glancing
at his nightstand, he noticed the blinking red message light on his
cellphone. Pushing back the pangs of hunger, he checked the
messages.

Damion’s smooth voice came through the
earpiece. “Hey Alex, I’ve set a Collective meeting for tonight.
Something is going down with Malcolm ... I really don’t like the
feel of it. I think we all need to get together to talk about this
one. Eleven, conference room.”

Clicking his phone shut and throwing it on
the bed, Alex went to his closet and rummaged through his clothes.
With exacting care, he chose a black Armani suit, complemented by a
dark red dress shirt. Dark red was his power color, and he loved to
feel powerful.

In the connecting bathroom he stripped out
of his pajamas. The reflection staring back at him was one that
would never change. Until the end of his existence, each time he
looked in the mirror, he would see a twenty-eight-year-old man. His
harsh Russian features would forever remain without wrinkles, and
his coal black hair would never gray. His eyes, though, told the
story of his age, and even he could see the stories in them.

His bare arms and chest still held the large
muscles of the hardworking man he had been as a mortal. Although,
his chest now bore the one mark he had allowed himself to get. He
ran his fingers over the red longevity symbol. He had chosen
longevity as a marker for being immortal. Like it was yesterday he
remembered China and the tattoo shop where he had received the
tattoo. As a last minute decision he asked the artist to add the
three koi fish in a circle around the longevity symbol because the
koi fish were associated with life-long good luck. And he felt like
he sure need some of that.

Alex continued to think about China and its
rare beauty while he carefully applied a dark, skin-colored
foundation to his face and hands to cover his paleness. It was
worth the effort to prevent mortals from questioning his light
skin. After checking himself in the mirror again, Alex donned his
black leather overcoat, a long flowing garment that swept the
floor.

He allowed himself one last approving glance
in the mirror, grabbed his briefcase off his dresser, and left the
room.

He opened the garage door and sighed with
pride. The room glimmered with glossy paint and shiny chrome from
the many vehicles. He chose his orange ’69 Mustang, because he
wanted to stop at the church before the meeting, but he didn’t have
much time to spare. He slipped into the driver’s seat, set his
briefcase on the seat beside him, and then, with the turn of the
key, the car came to life. After he backed out of the garage, he
shut the doors with a remote and roared his way out of the long
driveway.

At that hour of night, the pine-tree-lined
streets were deserted. Alex liked that. Living outside the city,
between Reno and Lake Tahoe, gave him more privacy. Although it was
raining, he opened his window halfway to let in the fresh scent of
the rain-washed earth.

When he approached the city, he took in the
view of the lights. For Alex, each time was like the first time.
The lights were like beacons, calling to him, enticing him. For
that matter, he thought the lights were like vampires, deceivingly
beautiful, alluring, and full of promise.

Until you’re bitten,
he thought.

Unable to help himself, he chuckled and
continued the drive into the city. Traffic there was crazy compared
to the lonely streets near his home. Among the multitude of hotels
and casinos dominating the city, he kept his focus on the Lucas
Hotels and Casinos—the massive towers stood tall and proud—while he
drew closer to them.

He passed the exit and kept going for a few
miles until he came to a stop in front of a large brick church. He
parked the car, ran through the rain, and ascended the cement
stairway. Alex found the church deserted and locked, as it always
was that time of night.

Taking out his set of lock picks, he thought
about the old days when churches were never locked. They were
always open for the public whenever someone needed to be close to
God.

Upon entering, he felt a presence; not God,
but something else.

Danielle.

She had always had a habit of following him
when she was invisible. Although he knew she was there, he rarely
let on. He couldn’t think of any reason why she would want to keep
herself secret from him, since she knew he would tell her anything
she wanted to know. Besides, she could read minds.

Although the bricks muffled the sound of the
rain, its presence was evident. It drizzled down the outside of the
multicolored stained glass windows.

It’s like they are melting,
Alex
thought as he stared at them.

An aisle separated two sets of pews, and at
the far end of the church, behind the podium and the large choir
section, was the baptismal area.

Following his usual ritual, Alex knelt in
front of the podium at a short wooden table that, without fail,
held a fresh flower arrangement. It also held a large leather-bound
Bible, always opened to the same verse: John 3:16.

Alex lowered his head and spoke aloud to the
empty church, his voice echoing in the darkness. “Lord, forgive me.
I have sinned. I live a life of sin. Yet, you let me live. Again
and again, I ask how that can be. How is it that you could let
something as evil and corrupt as I live on this earth and walk with
the humans you created?"

He dropped his head lower.

“I still don’t understand a lot of things
you have shown me, Lord. I'm depressed. I've never asked for
anything from except guidance and strength, but it's time I humbly
ask, just this once, for you to bless me with something to give me
the will to go on.”

A clap of thunder shook the walls of the
church.