“Kayla,” Sylas says as he takes in the fact that we’re surrounded. “Now’s probably the time to start kicking ass.”
“There’s too many of them.” I gape, turning in a small circle. “I can’t even take on one yet.”
“Well, you’re going to have to try.” He backs up. “One bite and I’m dead.”
“No, you’re infected,” I clarify with a frown. “Not dead.”
A vampire shrieks and the others follow in unison, like a chorus of death.
“Same thing.” He spins on his heels and takes me by the shoulders. “Because if I get bit you’ll have to kill me. I won’t become one of them.”
I don’t bother mentioning that he is partially one already. “Fine, but you owe me for this.”
“I owe no one. Ever.”
“You do now.”
He scowls. “Just get me far away from here. We can’t go back to the hideout, not after that boy showed up looking for you.”
One vampire ventures in on us. I move to drop kick it in the face but trip over my feet. “What about the others?” I skitter sideways. “You’re just going to leave them there?”
“They can fend for themselves,” he says, acting tough, but a faint flicker of guilt shimmers from inside him. “It’s what they were built for.”
It starts with a hard shove from a vampire towering in the back. The bodies of the blood-thirsty beasts ripple forward and pile the ground, some falling, some diving for Sylas.
“Now would be the time to run.” I knock my arm into the back of one’s head and my elbow pops. Blood squirts out of an open wound on the vampire and I jump out of the way to avoid being infected.
“Are you sure—” Sylas starts, hesitating.
“Just go,” I cut him off as a vampire clicks its teeth as Sylas. “I can handle this.”
A lie. But that’s what I’m good at.
There is no more hesitation. Sylas is much faster than me and if we try to run together, I’ll only hold him back. He knows it. I know it. The best thing for him to do is bail. Once he’s gone, the vampires won’t want anything to do with me.
He pierces me with a look bursting with heat and my blood scorches like liquid fire.
“Hurry.” He winks and then he’s gone, launching himself over the thinner area of the crowd and into the street. Some chase after him, but Sylas can outrun them, so I’m not too worried.
Once he disappears, I relax, knowing the remaining vampires are going to flee. They loiter, blinking as the blood from their eyes subsides. I wish I had my knife so I could at least try and take one out. Especially the one farthest to my left who won’t seem to take it’s gaze off me. It pants loudly, eyes refusing to stop bleeding. Concerned that it might be defective, I inch to the right, trying to herd an escape route. But none of them will budge. They pant louder and their eyes rain red. Blood splatters against the pavement and rivers for my feet. I think of my dream. Aiden and I as kids, walking toward each other on a blood-stained street piled with famished vampires.
I search the ground for a stake, for some sort of weapon as they horde in on me. One sniffs my arm and then howls at the night.
“Damn it!” I jerk back, but I’m shoved forward. I trip and thrust out my hands to break the fall. That’s when I realize what’s wrong. My hands are covered in blood. Not my blood. It has to be either Sylas’ or Tristan’s. I’m in deep trouble. My scent is now overlapped by someone else’s. And vampires love the scent of everyone’s blood but mine.
A large, rounded one, with big eyes and a gaping hole in its cheek, launches at my leg. I ram the tip of my boot into its head. My toes pop and the vampire howls. Its fangs take another snap and they miss my skin by a sliver of an inch.
Weapon! Weapon! Weapon! My head screams at me.
I scan the buildings, the ground, the sky, but no weapons, only vampires. One smashes into my back and a pain cripples me to the ground. Blood currents down my hair, my neck, my back. I roll to my side and my head thumps against the ground. A stampede of mutilated feet mobs my vision.
You have to get up!
I check to my left then my right, even though the voice was inside my head. “Monarch.”
You have to run!
“I’m trying!” I shout even though I know he can’t hear me.
Flipping onto my stomach, I prop up onto my elbows. With a loud grunt, I heave myself up and the world spins. Something sharp sinks into my leg and I fumble. Blood gushes down my leg and puddles around my feet. My veins burn. My eyes sting.
I’ve been bit and I’m going to die.
Chapter 6
“Ring around the rosie. A pocket full of posies.”
My eyelids are sealed shut, heavy with death. The damp earth is under me and there’s a chorus of voices singing.
“Ashes. Ashes.”
My eyes gradually open.
“We all fall down.”
My cheeks are pressed against the warm, green grass and the sunlight spills across the land. The heat radiates my skin. I roll over, shield my eyes, and gaze at the crystal blue sky. The wind dances across my face and the atmosphere is unburdened by death. Children skip across the grass while their parents keep an eye on them from the benches and chairs. Swings reach to the sky and the air is filled with laughter.
I know this place. I stand and stretch, my floral dress flapping in the wind. I’m small, just a child. I twirl in a circle and breathe in the fresh air. There’s a brown brick building to the side, labeled with a sign. I read it with difficultly, the memories of letters and numbers slipping from my mind. “Cell…7.”
“Juniper!” A boy shouts and I turn. Aiden. I know him like I know myself.
He skips up to me with a grin on his face and outstretches his hand. I take it, not asking questions, trusting him entirely. We head across the grassy park, mazing through the groups of children playing on the swings, jumping rope, singing songs. A girl with blood red hair and sad, dark eyes, stands out from the rest of them.
“Emmy?” I whisper, but Aiden tugs on my hand. “Where are we going?”
He puts his finger to his lips, his honey eyes twinkling in the sunlight. “Shhh.”
I nod and let him guide us to the verge of the grass. He checks over his shoulder and then tucks us behind the trunk of a large tree.
Immediately, his happy expression falters and replaces with fear. “Did you tell him anything?”
I shake my head uncomprehendingly. “Tell who?”
“Sylas,” he whispers. “Did you tell him about our escape plan?”
“What escape plan?” I hover against the tree, frightened. “Aiden, you’re scaring me.”
He runs his hand through his scraggily hair. “He did it again.” His face contorts with anger. “Juniper, you have to try and tune it out. Don’t let them get into your head. Otherwise we’ll never get out of here and back home.”
“Don’t let who get into my head?”
He grabs my arm and turns us around. “The Highers,” he whispers, pointing a finger at a group of parents, dressed in white coats, taking notes from a park bench.
“They said they aren’t going to hurt us,” I tell him. “They just want to help…” I trail off as I spot him, standing behind a bench, as he jots notes on a piece of paper. His hair isn’t grey and he has fewer crow’s feet. But I recognize his dark grey eyes. Monarch.
“But he’s my father,” I say softly. “He won’t hurt me.”
Aiden sighs and shakes his head. “No Kayla, he stole you. They stole everyone from their parents. And they won’t stop until they have what they want.”
I meet his eyes. “But what do they want?”
He swallows hard. “Death.”
I open my mouth, but I’m silenced by sirens blaring through the park. Echoes of children’s screams overlap the deafening noise.
“Aiden!” I shout, throwing my hands over my ears. “What’s going on!” When I spin, Aiden’s not there. “Aiden!” I run out from behind the tree, into the crowd of people scurrying around, confused, searching for a dark haired, honey-eyed boy. “Aiden!”
There are too many people and I feel him slipping away. What is this feeling? This emptiness.
“Kayla.” It’s Monarch. He holds out his hand. “We need to go now.”
“But where’s Aiden?” I ask. “We can’t leave without him.”
Black smoke capes the sky and Monarch grabs my hand. “Kayla, now’s not the time! He has to go! Let him go! He doesn’t belong here.”
I wrench my hand away, surprised by how strong I am. “I’m not leaving without him!”
“Kayla!” Monarch shouts as he races after me. “Get back here!”
But I am fast, just like I used to be before I shifted to a human. My little legs can run faster than Monarch’s and I vanish into the crowd of white coats and panicked children.
“Aiden!” I yell, bumping a tall man out of my way.
“Hey!” He hollers, reaching for me. “You get back here!”
I dodge around his arms and break through the threshold of the throng. The sight of the burnt trees and grass makes me slam on the breaks. Fires thunder up and down the fields, blazing straight for the park gates. Far in the distance of the scorching flames and spinning smoke, Aiden screams.
“Help me, Juniper!” He begs. “Please!”
I spot his eyes in the smoke and ash, but a needle stabs my neck and just as quickly as I ran through the crowd, I’ve forgotten why I did it. I can’t remember anything. Even the boy burning in the flames.
Chapter 7
“She’s not dead,” a voice growls. “She’s fine.”
“She was bit,” a girl replies. “She’s as good as dead.”
“We don’t know for sure yet.” The voice is deep and familiar.
“Aiden,” I mumble and moan from a razor-sharp pain shooting down my neck.