Authors: P.A. Warren
I walk over to the tinted window and stare out. It looks like midnight, but it’s only mid-afternoon. I let the phone call I just took absorb into my mind as a knock turns my head. I watch as one of my lovers walk in with her head already tilted for me to feed from.
“Laney, you know me too well.”
Pulling her into my lap, I let my fangs come forward and enjoy the euphoria that comes prior to the bite. I swiftly bite her neck, draining her of her life force. Looking down upon her, I position her still warm, but drained body as if she was sleeping and shut her eyes with my hands. I place a soft kiss on her lips. She was a good woman, but she served her purpose, and well that’s the way this life is. You serve your purpose and then you die.
***
Several hours later, I’m standing behind my desk, anticipating a phone call. Today has been highly interesting; I’ve already received a call from the most unlikely source: Anya, Claire’s half-sister, of all people. I sit down, grab a tumbler and pour a glass of bourbon and study the way the golden liquid fills the glass. Taking a long, slow drink, I pensively think about the new information that I’ve learned today. If only life was as easy as drinking this bourbon. A shrill ringing breaks the silence, interrupting my thoughts. Picking up the phone, I bark out an angry hello.
“We’ve located the college, Sir, and Mikail is infiltrating as we speak.”
“Call me when you’ve captured her,” I snap.
“Yes, Sir.” There is a pause on the other line before he continues. “Sir, we have also found the person protecting her, and you might be interested in knowing who that is.”
Intrigued, I lean back in my seat. “Who is it?”
“Your son, Jason.”
I grip the phone in my hand so tightly it breaks, tiny pieces fall in front of me, making tinkling sounds as they hit the floor, but I could care less. I haven’t seen Jason in a few years. He hates me, and for him to be working with Antony just proves it.
“Riley!” I roar, as I yell for him, my face hot with anger, as I watch him walk towards me slowly. I fix my eyes on my first born son.
“I’ve just heard some surprising news; I’ve found your long-lost brother, Jason. He’s protecting the girl we need. You have permission to stake him if he gets in the way.”
“Yes, sir.” Riley nods without a smile.
“You know I blame you for Jason leaving, right?” I ask him.
“Yes, sir.”
I walk toward the roaring fireplace and shove the fire poker into the flames.
“Take off your shirt,” I order my eldest son. Riley hesitates for a split second, making me slap him across the face.
“I despise insubordination. When I give you an order I want it done without a second thought.”
Riley, clenching his jaw in anger, makes me strangely happy. Fear takes me to my happy place. If he’d grown up with my father then he would understand.
“Never hesitate when I tell you to do something. Shirt off now.” As he pulls it off, I watch as he then throws it in a crumpled heap on the ground, looking straight at me in disgust.
“Now kneel and face the wall.” I watch him disdainfully as he finally complies with my order.
Grabbing the rod out of the fire, I glance at my son’s scarred back. I laugh inwardly before finding a space of flesh that is free of scarring. I jab the scalding poker into his flesh. I listen to my son scream in pain; inhaling the smell of his burning flesh. It always brings back memories of my childhood and when my father did this to me. I’m only teaching him the family way. One day he will understand. Weaklings don’t win. You must be cold and have a black heart to win the game of life.
“Get out of here. You disgust me,” I say, picking up the shirt and throwing it at a cowering Riley. “I’ll have a new prisoner coming in the next day or so and will need your services. You do your job and maybe I’ll be happy that you’re my son. Maybe.”
Sitting back in my leather chair, I pull out a cigar and light it, letting my mind wander back to the events of the night. Taking the cigar, I set it on my arm, letting it burn into my skin and enjoying the burning feeling it provides as it eases my tension. Tonight turned into a very informative evening. Apparently Claire has a
half sister who wants her dead as well, which was why she called me earlier tonight to push that process along. She also informed me that she overheard her dad, Antony, talking to Mikail, who’s supposed to be helping me. That bastard. When I find Mikail, he’s dead. You don’t play us against each other and live.
Watching Jason walk out, followed by the girl, reminds me of just how far down the totem pole I am, and leaves a very bad taste in my mouth. Why the hell would he kiss me and then go with another girl? Guys, who needs them? They are nothing but trouble. My staring is abruptly interrupted by the guy who sat down with a tray filled with almost every type of food the cafeteria offers.
This must be my lucky day,
I think to myself sarcastically. I don’t pay attention when he firsts introduces himself. Looking up, I do a double take as I look him over and am stunned. He is drop- everything- you’re- doing good looking. He has a skull tattoo on his forearm and a small tattoo next to his left eye, the number twenty one. My eyes zero in on his number tattoo, and I wonder what the meaning behind it is. He has dark brown hair that’s shaved close, and he’s tall, not built like Jason, but he does have muscles, only they are more compact. His red Abercrombie shirt is stretched across his chest, and he’s wearing khaki shorts. He must be lost or something because he is way too good looking to be sitting here with me. He opens his soda and takes a sip, grimacing at the taste and looking at the can in disgust.
He stares at me unabashedly, “No one told me how beautiful you were.”
“I’m sorry… what?” I look at him, confused.
What? Seriously? Who is this guy?
“Worst pick up line ever buddy. I’m not here to be your first conquest,” I countered back to him.
I must look like an easy target because I’m sitting all alone in the cafeteria, and therefore I must be starved for attention from hot men. I glance around at the cafeteria to make sure he’s actually talking to me when my eyes fall on him and find him staring at me with such an intensity that it makes me shiver. I can’t pinpoint it, but something about this guy is very familiar to me.
“Have I met you before?” I ask.
He tilts his head sharply. “What do you mean?”
Shaking my head, I look down in embarrassment. “Never mind. I was thinking of someone else.”
He smiles, playing with his soda can. “It’s okay, I get that a lot.”
I glance to my left and right and nod at the other table surrounded by students. He should be over at the rowdy table, not here with me: Miss Social Disaster.
“You have about ten wheels turning in your head at the moment, don’t you?” He laughs, leaning back and crossing his muscular arms.
“Are you lost?” I blurt out.
He looks pained. “No. I’m right where I need to be.”
Unsure of how to respond, I look at my sandwich distastefully. I’m hungry, but for some reason the sandwich is no longer appealing. I began breaking off pieces of the sandwich and spreading them on the plate.
“You know I’m not positive, but I think it works better if you eat the sandwich rather than mutilate it, right?”
I laugh nervously, shoving the sandwich out of my fingers. “Yeah, but for some reason it doesn’t sound good anymore.”
“So what’s your name, love?” He asks, opening up a bag of chips and sniffing.
“Claire. You?”
“Mikail,” he replies, grinning. When he smiles, two dimples appear in his cheeks and make him even hotter. What is it with the abundance of hot guys at this school suddenly?
Playing with my sandwich wrapper, I wonder if the world has tilted on its axis. Two very hot guys have shown me attention; me, a very plain nobody. Mikail is sitting here oblivious to the fact that half the female population is ogling him right now. He’s looking straight at me, staring into my eyes without blinking, and his pupils are dilating. Why is he looking at me like that? What the hell is wrong with his eyes? Something tells me Mikail isn’t here to flirt with me, and I stand abruptly grabbing my trash. “I have a class, sorry...”
Practically running to the trash can, I toss my stuff in and exit through the double doors and proceed to run right into Jason, again.
I pull back and look up at him. “We have really got to stop doing this.” I laugh, shaking my head and walk around him I’m still thinking about Mikail and what Jason did in the quad so I don’t even bother saying sorry and keep on walking towards the lake on campus. Thankfully, it’s empty so I have my pick of benches along the edge. Sitting on a bench, I tense when I hear footsteps approaching and look behind me and spot Jason closing in on me.
“What’s got you so wound up?” he asks, sitting next to me and putting his arm around me. I bump his hand off and jump to my feet, walking towards the lake. The wind blows my hair in my face, and I push it out of my eyes with an aggravated groan. “Do you ever feel like something weird is going on, but you have no idea what it is?” I ask, sensing he’s following me.
“All the freaking time,” he answers.
Taking a deep breath, I debate about asking him why he’s been everywhere I’ve been, and then just blurt it out. “So why are you everywhere I am? Why are you being seen with me? What is going on?”
Instead of answering me, he seems really alert as he stares over my head. Turning my head towards what’s grabbed his attention, I spot the gorgeous brown head of Mikail strolling towards us with his hands in his pocket, looking about as out of place as he did in the cafeteria. Out of the blue, Jason grabs me and places me behind him, using his body as a shield.
What the hell
, I think as I stare at his back. I try moving past him, but he blocks me and fits his hand across my wrist tightly, keeping me in place. Finally, freeing my wrist from his tight grasp, I rub it as Mikail walks up to us and stares hard at me, realizing that Jason has actually hurt me. I’m afraid they are going to fight so I evade Jason’s grasp again and get between them.
Shooting Jason a pissed off glare, I turn my attention to Mikail, thinking they have some kind of awkward guy rivalry.
“Hey Jason…” Mikail sizes Jason up. “Does the zoo know you got out again?”
I shift, feeling a blush hit my cheeks. “I ran into Jason when I was walking to the lake to wait on my next class.” Looking over at Jason, not sure why I’m even bothering telling him.
“I met Mikail at lunch,” I say to Jason.
“How convenient,” Jason says snarling at Mikail.
“I think it’s ironic you think you need to protect her from me. I’m the last person that would hurt her I wish I could say the same about you,” Mikail says uttering the last part softly under his breath.
So this was about me, what the hell?
They are both in each other’s faces, ignoring me completely. They’ve got some male macho thing going on. I don’t know what they are fighting about, but it has to do with me, and I’m speechless. Since when would two super-hot guys fight over a girl like me? Trying to get them to listen is useless, so I do the only thing I can think to do. I walk away. Later I know I’ll look back on this moment and wish I stayed, but I’m more of a flight than fight kind of girl.
Leaving the guys behind, I walk like a bat out of hell towards my dorm. For once in my life I’m not even paying attention to my surroundings. Mikail calls for me to stop from a few yards away, but I ignore him and keep going. I’m fuming mad. I can’t believe the two of them. Why do guys have to solve everything with a fight? It’s like two dogs marking each other’s territory, and I’m the hydrant, only I never agreed to be the hydrant.
Wrinkling my nose at the image that pops into my head, I shudder and rummage through my purse, looking for a piece of gum. I trip, spilling my purse and frantically gather the contents, pens, pencils, my phone and finally the gum. I throw it all in haphazardly and stand. I walk along the sidewalk and notice how quiet everything is.
There are no birds singing, no people talking, not a sound, just pure silence. It’s almost overwhelming because it’s not normal. Quickening my pace, I get halfway to my dorm when I’m grabbed from behind, I feel a pinprick as something is stuck in my neck and my body goes limp. I’m awake, but I can’t seem to move any of my limbs. Helplessness quickly overwhelms me. I can’t scream because I can’t get my lips to say the words. I’m screaming in my brain. Muffled, awkward, dampened sounds claw their way out of my throat, but nobody comes to help me.
Oh God. I try desperately to break free of the hold, but of course that does nothing since my limbs won’t do what my brain is telling them. In my mind¸ I’ve done everything imaginable to move, and when my body doesn’t respond, I stop.
I am carelessly thrown down in some sort of case or something. The lid slams shut, and when it starts rumbling and moving I realize I must be in the trunk of a car. Tears run down my face, soaking the cloth covering my head and making me feel claustrophobic, and making it hard to breathe. And that’s when panic starts to settle in. I’m still trying to comprehend what’s going on when the car stops and the trunk is thrown open. I’m yanked out and thrown into a different car where we drive for at least an hour or so.
They carelessly pull me out as if I’m trash and drop me on some type of gravel studded pavement. Drugged, all I can do is lie there as they kick me in the stomach repeatedly. The pain is excruciating, and I’m on the verge of vomiting.
The guy who pulled me out of the trunk tells his partner to go easy on me as he shoots me a maniacal glare. It’s so scary that I wish I could look away, but my eyes are glued to him in disbelief. He’s muscular with weird tattoos wrapping around his arms, and I watch the tattoos jump as his muscles clench. The man next to him, who I’ve yet to identify but can distinguish him by his voice, told him to get the medicine out of me so I feel the pain.
Cold hands grab me, forcing me to stand on shaky legs that I can no longer feel. They keep giving out under me. He holds me upright and tilts my head to the side, sinking something hard into my neck. He pulls away, spitting and turns my head so I’m looking at him. He smiles widely showing me his bloody mouth and teeth. Did he just bite me? I feel liquid dripping down my neck and blood running onto my white cardigan. I have an offhand thought that the cardigan is now ruined, as if that’s my biggest worry right now. Instantly, I’m overwhelmed with pain as whatever they gave me is drained from my system and it hits me that these aren’t normal human beings. Normal humans don’t bite each other or suck blood from necks. It’s like my brain adds it all together and once it figures it all out, my legs give out, and it causes me to fall and my head hits the ground with a loud crack. Everything spins but I manage to stay conscious.
I don’t have time to react to protect my stomach as a foot suddenly connects with it. Wincing as the foot makes its way towards my stomach again, this time I’m kicked from behind. I scream out in pain and confusion. The beating continues for what seems like forever, and I don’t know how much more I can take, when it abruptly stops, and I’m lying here in a puddle of my own blood and urine staring at the sky and wondering what I’ve done to deserve this.
“Look at that. The hybrid can’t take a little punishment. She pissed herself,” someone says laughing...
The what? Hybrid? Who’s a hybrid, and more importantly, what’s a hybrid
? I think to myself as I shakily try to force myself to sit up, leaning on weak arms. I tumble right back onto the pavement.
“Hybrid?” I spit out painfully. “What’s a Hybrid?
“Don’t play the stupid game with me, girl. Griffin has a score to settle with the King, and since you’re the King’s daughter you’re the perfect weapon against him.”
King? Last time I checked we had a President and not a King. “You have the wrong girl,” I try to scream, but it comes out as a warble. “I don’t even know my dad.” The man walks towards me and backhands me across the face.
“Fool, don’t ever talk to me. You are the King’s daughter, and you will shut up.”
Having no other choice, I lay face down and stare at the pavement, tears running down my face as I rest my cheek on it and pray for death. I hum softly, trying to keep my mind calm as the man runs his hands all over my body. My last faltering thought before I pass out completely is that apparently I’m the King's daughter, and the people here do not like him, or me for that matter.