The Frenzy Series (Book 2): Frantic (8 page)

“Mom!”

“You are my son. Now, I know you love her – though it happened faster than I would have liked, I know it’s true. I know you’ll try to help her. I just ask that you be smart about it. Don’t put yourself in danger. And please understand that if she’s in Frenzy, she
is
dangerous. It’s as simple as that.”

Father grunted his agreement and pushed his chair away from the table, the legs scraping across the wooden planks underfoot.

“Don’t you have to get to the rotation?”

I raked my hands through my hair. “I don’t think there will be one today.”

“Why is that?” Dad asked.

“The others are refusing to come. I can’t do it alone.”

“Hell no, you can’t!” Dad’s voice boomed. He stood up. “The Elders won’t be happy about this.”

“You can’t say anything! Let the night-walkers handle it, Dad.
Please
.”

“What if they
handle
it by feeding on us all?”

It was a valid question, and one I didn’t have an answer to. If the Elders couldn’t convince the colonists to volunteer, the night-walkers would find a way to feed, willing or not. And the citizens would live in terror. Because while the Infected threatened from afar, the vamps had no physical limitations whatsoever. I had seen pissed off vampires, and no one wanted to mess with that.

Dara and I followed Roman to the pavilion—the very empty pavilion—this morning, and now we were making tracks toward Town Hall. The sun was rising. The wind was blowing. It seemed like a great day to either pick a fight or issue an ultimatum, and this impromptu meeting could go either way. Give the Elders time to talk some sense into the dumb humans, or else we tear their throats out. We were hungry, and none of us had eaten anything since yesterday morning.

“I’m going hunting after this,” Dara whined. Dara always whined. “I don’t see why you keep giving Porschia all of our food. It just comes back up. It’s such a waste.”

Roman groaned, obviously sick of her constant complaining. “She has to eat.”

“No she doesn’t,” Dara argued. “Let her waste away. She obviously wasn’t cut out for this. She’s a freak! Those tiny fangs? It’s nature’s way of telling you she should die. She can’t even feed herself.”

I growled low in my chest.

Dara giggled. “Aww, Tage. We all know you have a soft spot for her, but Porschia is still hung up on her human lover, Saul. She doesn’t want you, does she?” she added with a baby-like pout.

“I don’t want her either. Not like that, anyway. She’s my friend. But then you wouldn’t know anything about friendship, would you? You get on everyone’s nerves with your constant bitching and moaning.”

“You’d love my moaning,” she teased, ignoring the insult. “Roman does.”

Unfortunately, I knew he did. I’m sure half the Colony had heard the two of them rutting. Roman wasn’t really into her, but he had needs and Dara offered to scratch his itch. Often. Humans were too fragile for intimacy with a vampire, so the walls in Roman’s house banged a lot.

However, their noisy lovemaking was nothing compared to the sound of Porschia trying to tear the cell bars out of the ceilings and floor. That made me really damn proud of her for some reason. But since I didn’t want the house to land on my head, I opened the cell. It was a win for everyone—everyone but Saul.

Poor guy. She would’ve killed him. The look in his eyes when he realized his Porschia was about to kill him, and that a large part of her was gone forever? Misery. I’d seen it time and time again. They said that misery loved company, and I could attest to that fact. Because misery was a real hateful bitch – a bitch I’d like to throat punch almost as much as Dara. I didn’t hit women, never had, but Dara pushed that boundary. Hard.

She thought Roman would protect her, but she thought wrong. I
knew
Roman. Oh, I hadn’t known him long, but I knew his type. He liked power. He liked being the alpha and he would stomp anything in his way, even his current plaything. He’d toss her away and keep right on walking, not even bothering to look back at her.

A few people had already ventured out of their homes this fine morning, but one glance at us and they felt the need to revisit the sanctuary they’d just left.

“Will the old men be awake at this hour?” I asked.

“They’ll be at Town Hall, or else we will go find them at their homes and invite them there.”

Well okay, then.

We turned toward the Hall, which was an old church, climbed its steps and entered inside. Most thought vampires were unable to step foot in churches, but that was a myth. There were a lot of those surrounding our kind. People tended to make stuff up about things they didn’t know or understand, and unless you were a night-walker, you didn’t get it. Believe me.

Sure enough, the three old men were in the building. Roman wasted no time.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your company, Roman?” One of them stood up, his chair legs scooting across the floor boards. I think his name was Yankee.

“Only one person, Saul Daniels, showed up for the rotation yesterday. We asked Saul not to come today, because he allowed each of us to feed from him yesterday. However, would you care to guess how many colonists showed up this morning?” Roman paused for dramatic effect before continuing. “Zero. So here’s the deal, and you can take it or leave it. We
will
feed tonight. The three of us will show up at the pavilion after sunset. If none of the colonists show up on their own, we will be forced to find food…and it will be from the veins of your citizens. We are not responsible for the recent murders, but we must eat. I know you can understand that.”

Roman turned and walked away, leaving the old men to gape and gasp. Dara giggled.

“Oh!” Roman threw his finger up and turned to the men with a sinister smile on his face. “And the treaty will be nullified if no one shows. That means no more help from us in the forest. If you hunt, you’ll go it alone. Good luck with the Infected.”

To us, he said, “Let’s go. I’m done with their games. They know the rules.”

“And I look forward to breaking them.” Dara smiled, showing off her long, delicate fangs. “Right after I pay Saul a little visit. Rumor has it that the carpenters need wood.”

I shook my head. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Consider me a pyro, Tage. I’m not afraid of Porschia Grant.”

“I have to get out of here,” I said on a grunt. I was weak, but was still a million times stronger than my human self. Muscles teemed with energy as I eased metal apart, prying and lengthening the space between them. The bars groaned again, bowing under the pressure. “Just. A. Little. More.” Sniffing at the air, I sensed that it was still there. Just outside the house, maybe?

Another wince and the hole in the door was just big enough. I squeezed through, the metal taut against the sides of my head, followed by my chest and shoulder blades as I eased out.

The smell. There it was again. My mouth watered. This was no human. What was it? I ran up the steps, out the door, not even bothering to close it. I only stopped when the sunlight assaulted my eyes. Using my forearm as a shield, I ran toward the scent. The cold earth should have stopped me, but I didn’t feel it on my bare feet. Not now. Now, I was hot. So hot. Burning from the inside out. Dara’s clothes fit like a second skin. I ran faster than I’d ever run, blurring through the vampire section of town, past the pavilion, toward the barn. It was coming from there.

When I got close, I stopped and took in my surroundings. Beyond the barn, there was an oak tree.
There
. I ran again, pumping my arms, forgetting the light that burned my corneas.

“Porschia?”

“Ford?” I held my hands over my eyes, blinking away the pain.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were…sick.”

“What are you doing? What am I smelling?” It was warm, earthy, gamey, and bloody.

“I’m slaughtering a cow. The Elders ordered it this morning. They’re planning some sort of celebration in Town Hall, though I don’t know what in the world there is to celebrate in this place.”

I walked further around the large trunk of the sycamore. There hung the carcass, stripped of its hide. Ford had already gutted it and was using a bucket of water to clean the bile from the meat. The meat, muscle and sinew, so fresh. “Can I have a bite?” I asked tentatively. I didn’t want to tear it away from him, but my fingers twitched toward the swinging carcass.

“It’s not cooked,” he said in horror, stepping back from the animal and holding the knife down. I heard his fingers tighten on the hilt.

“I won’t hurt you, Ford.”

“How can you be sure? Does Tage know you’re out?”

“Tage is
not
my keeper,” I growled back at him.
I have no keeper
.

“No, but you were the one who said it was safer. You know what? Never mind. Eat some if you want it.”

I wasted no time. My fingers shredded the meat from the bone of the thigh and my teeth sank into it. I chewed, swallowed, groaned. It was so good. When that piece was finished, I tore more away, ate it, and then licked my fingers clean.

Ford stood back, wearing a bewildered, terrified, wide-eyed look that I hated to see on his face. I hated it because I knew I’d scared him. I scared my brother. “I’m so sorry, Ford.” When I reached out to him, he flinched.

“I know you wouldn’t hurt me, Porsch, but that was insane. You just ate a raw cow.”