Silver chains painfully bit
into my arms and ankles where they bound me to the rigid wooden chair. The air was dank and musky, dampness of the earth
sinking through the walls. No windows
provided light. The few haggard candles
burning in the room, crying wax tears cast ominous shadows like monsters. A raw wood desk with a single drawer was tucked
I the right corner while a hard bench was shoved in the other. A simple wood ladder led to the floor above.
I uselessly struggled
against the binds as a group clad in black surrounded me, malice poisoning the
air.
“You are an abomination,”
William, their leader said, a light Scottish accent lacing his words. He stood tall and broad shouldered, his pitch
shirt straining against his muscles. His
hair curled passed is ears and framed his moss colored eyes that held a wild
tint to them. A wicked scar ran down the
left side of his neck to his shoulder, four parallel lines—claw marks no doubt. And I had no doubt whatever did that had met
the end of his blade. “Not only is your
sight unnatural, but you are between two worlds on a path that leads directly
to hell. We end this now.”
I scoffed. “You aren’t killing me for the righteous act
you claim.” My gaze passed over the six
other hunters leering at me behind his massive shoulders. “You are scared of what I know, of what I’ll
do. I’ve already wrecked your current
plans. You want me out of the way to resume.”
Silence prevailed, not
one false denial slithered forward.
William pulled on his
coarse beard the color of rusty blood, an ominous sign of my future. “That’s just a plus little witch.”
An unfamiliar laugh
tumbled out my mouth. “Oh this is far
from the end William. My path of
destruction as you call it will not end with me. Your sect is cursed. My next descendant with the gift will be your
undoing.”
The crowd bristled
restlessly, fear entering their eyes except for William. “You are barely an adult and your life ends
in mere minutes. You won’t have any children
to pass your devilishness to.”
A small smile curled my
lips from the painful secret I kept hidden for months. “She will stop your evil plot. I’ve seen
it.”
A malicious sneer morphed
Williams face, his yellowed teeth gritting against his chapped lips. He unsheathed a silver dagger from his belt,
the candlelight turning it to liquid gold, and approached me with heavy
steps. “You are finished girl.” With one swift swipe, his hand arch toward
me, slicing the blade through my neck, spilling scarlet blood down my white cotton
shirt.
As the life drained out
of me I couldn’t help but smile. I’m
sure it was an eerie sight to all of them, spurring their hatred. But it didn’t matter. I knew she would come…
I woke up with a gasp,
frantically clutching my throat, expecting to feel slick blood pouring out.
There was nothing but a
fine layer of sweat dampening my clothes.
Oh man that sucked!
I collapsed back on my
pillow, brushing my mangled hair out my face, trying to slow my racing
heart. I probably shouldn’t discount
this dream. I came clean to Mac and the
others about my sorta prophetic dreams.
What if this is one? I don’t
normally dream about getting my throat sliced opened by hunters and bathing in
my own blood.
My stomach churned at the
sadistic thought. As if I didn’t have enough
nightmares about hunters.
Who was that girl they
murdered? What was all that about sight
and between two worlds? And they called
her a witch. According to Mac witches
aren’t real. Did he lie?
Crap. Is this the year of the witch at
Highland? Does this dream mean I’m going
to get attacked by straw brooms and black cats?
Actually compared to last
year with a hunter gone crazy, normal blood seeking hunters, and undead
vampires, that doesn’t sound so bad.
My eyes readjusted to the
ocean themed colors of my room in Shelby, Florida.
No, Mac and I haven’t
been separated again. It was still
summer vacation, well for another few days anyways.
I traced the delicate
carvings on the ruby and silver bonding ring with my index finger, memories of
that private little exchange of promises between Mac and I flashing through my
head. No one attempted to separate us
again. Mac would fight fang and nail
over it. I was his royal mate and in the
vampire world after our little impromptu bonding ceremony we were practically
married. The concept still had the
ability to freak me out on occasion. It
hadn’t been our intent, but what’s done is done. That’s exactly what Miranda and my mother
said to our fathers regarding the matter.
To say my dad was pissed
would be an understatement. He rarely
calls Mac by his actually name. Instead
he has a few choice nicknames for him—underhanded Casanova, daughter-stealing Romeo,
Prince Uncharming were a few of his favorites.
Hey, at least we’ve kept
our teeth from each other’s veins. I’m still
human—mostly. Our dads can gripe as much
as they want, but we haven’t accidently or purposely crossed the line where I
change into a full-fledged vampire turning Mac and I into eternal teenage
rulers. My goal is to make it to twenty
one.
Well, that’s what I tell
everyone. By the way our hormones act
sometimes I’m hoping to simply make it to my eighteenth birthday. One year.
Yikes. That’s forever in teenage years.
Even though I’m not a
vampire yet, due to our bonding I’m now a princess. I’ve endured a few princess lessons with
Miranda, which with my awkward nature didn’t go smooth. When she tried to teach me table manners I
thought my head was going to explode. Either
that or my stomach was going to punch through my flesh and devour the entire
tray of finger sandwiches. Finally she advised
me to eat a big meal before any public dinner events and I’ll be fine.
She has way too much
faith in me.
I sighed, tracing the
tiny scars on the side of my abdomen from the undead vampire. The royal guards have been scouring the
eastern US for them, putting them back in the grave where they belong. None have been spotted in Shelby and neither
have any hunters, yet a whole crew of guards were stationed in town. Rufus and Daedalus were even bunking at my
house.
I’m protected up the
wazoo.
After the showdown in the
woods, the hunters retreated with their tail between their legs. They were probably sour all my blood was
destroyed, halting their evil plot to destroy vampires with a weapon fashioned from
my weird combo of human and powerful Davenport blood.
It was a relief to not
feel as though they were breathing down my neck, but one hunter in particular
still made cameos in my nightmares. Declan. The thought of him sent my skin
crawling. That obsessive look in his
impenetrable eyes haunts the dark recesses of my dreams at night. He’s still out there lurking and possibly
salivating over the prospect of trapping me in a room again and tying me up.
A shiver rippled over my
spine and I shifted on my side to find another body in the bed with me, warmth
chasing the chill away. His back was
toward me, but that messy pitch hair splayed out on the pillow gave him away.
Mac snuck into my room!
Heat rumbled through my
chest at his courage. My dad warned him
if he found Mac in my bed again he’d scalp him.
I snuggled closer,
pressing my cold nose into his nape to savor his heady scent. My brows crashed together when I smelled
warm, earthy amber instead of a wild forest.
Demy!
What the hell is he doing
in my bed?
A wicked smile twisted my
lips as I bent my knees and stuck my icy feet on his back. The Russian shifter was about to get a rude
awakening. In one swift motion I pushed
him off the bed and he went tumbled onto the floor, a slew of Russian spewing
out his mouth.
“What are you doing in my
bed Demy?” I asked, leaning over the side as he scrambled into a sitting
position.
His inky black hair fell
in his tanned, sharp face, obscuring his currently half-lidded violet
eyes. One dark brow was pierced with a
silver stud while a freckle sat under the other. He was wearing a pair of black sweatpants and
a gray Filter shirt. He mumbled
something and lithely crawled back into bed.
“I’m sleepwalking. I don’t know
where I am.” He forced me back and
snuggled under the covers again. “It’s
dangerous to wake me up.”
I rolled my eyes. “Get out Demy.” When he didn’t budge I flicked the silver
stud in his eyebrow.
His violet eyes snapped
opened as he hissed. “Damn it Rubi. That hurt.”
He rubbed his brow. “You’re a
violent little thing.”
I opened my mouth to tell
him off when another suspicion began to sink in. “Where’s Mac?”
Demy shrugged
innocently. “It’s four in the
morning. I’m sure he’s asleep in his
room.”
My heart jumped in my
throat. “Four? Four what?”
He sleepily glanced at
the clock. “Four fifteen. Oh, nope, four sixteen.”
My gasp barely made it
out my lips as my bedroom door swung open, revealing my parents lurking in the
doorway with a cupcake and lit candle belting Happy Birthday. They did it
every year at exactly 4:16 am, the time I was born.
Demy dove under the
covers, yanking them over his head as if it would really conceal the six foot
something shifter. My mother immediately
spotted the giant lump next to me, her eyes flickering to my dad’s currently
cheerful face. She probably assumed it
was Mac.
My dad made it to the
edge of my bed. “Happy…” His dark eyes landed on the giant
protuberance that could in no way be blankets next to me and his smile morphed
into a snarl. My mother grabbed the
cupcake out his hands before he squeezed it into a confection volcano. “What did I tell you about...?” He ripped the covers off to reveal Demy,
confusion halting him. “What the…?”
“Dad, just calm
down.” My face burned with embarrassment
at what my parents must be thinking.
“Calm down?” he
screeched. “Why are you in my daughter’s
bed? Are you in love with her too?”
I wanted to dive under
the bed, monsters be damned.
“Marshall,” my mother
crooned, setting the cupcake on my dresser.
“I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.” Her golden honey eyes landing on Demy in curiosity.
He cleared his
throat. “Uh—I was sleepwalking?”
My dad growled and
gripped Demy’s ear between his thumb and forefinger, drawing him out of my
bed. “OUT! Get out of my house.”
“Dad!”
Demy could have easily
slipped away from him, but he had enough since to let the mere mortal man feel
like he had the power in the situation.
“Oh sweetie,” my mom
began, gingerly running her fingers through her tousled blonde waves. “You’re not dating both of them are you?”
Now I tossed the blankets
over my head. “Of course not!” I
groaned. “Thanks a lot Demy. You deserve whatever my dad does to you!”
“Rubi and I are just friends. I heard her through the wall, tossing and
moaning like a banshee. I went to check
on her and fell asleep.” It was the
flimsiest excuse I’ve ever heard.
“Of course if she’d have
me I’d gladly be her secret love slave.”
I gasped and shot up,
glaring at Demy as he grinned. “You
Russian idiot.” I tossed a pillow at
him. “Just wait ‘till Mac hears about
this. I give him free reign to pummel
you.”
Demy had the audacity to
blow me a kiss as my father dragged him out the room.
“You sure are popular with
the boys these days,” my mother remarked with a wink. “Happy 17th birthday sweetie.”
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