Outcast, page 18
Leif looked down as he felt one of her soft, cool hands slip into his. He went to pull away from her, but she gripped harder. He gave her a dangerous look, but was returned with a partial smile.
“Come on, Leif,” Beatrice said softly, her brown eyes radiating with hope and desire. She shrugged ever so slightly. “Give a girl a chance?”
Did she think that this setting would open the door for a change of heart? Did she think that him being alone with her again would shatter his engagement to Gemma? That they could just pick up where they left off in Vancouver? Did Beatrice think he could simply forgive her for transforming him into the monster he was, the very thing that had ultimately stripped away everything that had been important to him?
“I’ll do whatever it takes to win you back,” she whispered, her face inching closer to his. Beatrice’s eyes looked down at his mouth, and he knew what she was after. “Just name it.”
If this was her attempt at hypnosis, she’d failed. But he knew she had such skill — it was how she had lulled him before turning him into a vampire.
Leif stepped away, wrenching his hand free. “I didn’t come all the way to South Dakota to fraternize with you. And I think Draven would agree with me that such efforts are a waste of valuable time.”
The light faded from Beatrice’s chocolate eyes as she snorted. “You want to bring Draven into this? Draven has never been opposed to indulgence. He promotes it. It makes his followers happier, which makes them more devout. So tell me. Why don’t you give me a chance?”
Leif gritted his teeth. “Because ever since you came back into my life, you’ve done nothing but curse me. Look at me!” He rubbed his hands down the sides of his face, as if he were peeling a layer of disgust off. “I’m trapped in a body that craves nothing but blood. I have venom in my teeth, calling to me to spread this awful curse.” He clenched his fists, feeling his nails bite into his skin. He welcomed the pain — the marks would heal as soon as he released his grip, anyway.
“A curse?” she said incredulously. “Leif, I did what I did out of love. All those years ago, I didn’t give you a curse. I gave you a gift. A gift and a promise: eternal life and eternal love. What more could anybody ask for in this world?”
Leif threw his fist against the nearest log-wall, and he felt the wood crack from the impact.
“I’d ask for my fiancé!” he shouted. “I’d ask for Gemma!”
“Well, too bad,” Beatrice spat. “Gemma is dead. And no amount of time or pitiful sadness will bring her back.”
The rage that had been growing within him burst like a thunderstorm, and he charged Beatrice. He swung his fist hard and fast, hoping to clip her early on, but she sidestepped him, as if she could see his motives before he actually performed them. Something impacted his back as he shot by, and he slammed against the wall, just under the window, breaking the base of the wooden wall with a roaring crack. Leif’s back snapped, then popped back into place, and he was back on his feet.
“You want to dance?” she said sweetly, smiling as if he’d actually done just that. “Why Leif, I thought you’d never ask.”
Any resemblance of dancing with Beatrice was the last thing he wanted, but she’d taken things too far. This time, he stepped closer to her with his hands up protecting his face. Fighting weres was one thing, but fighting a vampire who was just as quick as he was — and a lot more experienced — probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do.
He didn’t care. If she crushed him, so be it.
Once Beatrice was within his reach, he threw a jab at her, which she promptly shoved to the side with her arm. In quick succession, he side swiped with his other fist, which she deflected with her other arm. Somehow, she’d locked both of his hands under her arms, and she swayed her hips for a few minutes, pulling him side to side, as if they really were dancing.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be leading?” she said, releasing him, then pushing his chest with the palm of her right hand. He was launched off his feet and went crashing into the couch. “Come on now, keep up with the fancy footwork.”
Beatrice raised one arm into the air and twirled on her tiptoes.
Back on his feet, he leapt through the air and tackled her mid-twist, but he had the feeling she’d let him. Before he knew it, he was flat on his back, and his arms were held above his head. Beatrice sat on top of him, straddling his stomach. Her nose touched his, and she smiled.
“You’ve got a lot to learn, my love,” she said.
Leif was shocked. That was what Gemma used to call him. That’s what she still called him in his head.
She cannot call you that! Gemma cried out. Her words weren’t laced with jealousy — Leif could sense her pain at having her words stolen.
He didn’t know how to react. He just stared up into Beatrice’s pale face, as if she’d bit him and released her subduing venom straight into his heart.
And then her cool lips pressed against his.
The kiss jolted through him, and he heard Gemma shriek in his mind.
With all the force he could muster, he resisted her hold, pulling his hands away, then pushed Beatrice at her shoulders, throwing her off him. Their lips parted, and she flew into the stone hearth with a scream.
Not wanting to give Beatrice time to react, Leif quickly stood and ran to the cabin door, flung it open and raced out into broad daylight — into the warm safety the sun provided.
I’ve got to get away. I’ve got to get away. He kept repeating those words in his head, panic sweeping through him. He rubbed at his mouth, as if wiping his lips would erase the memory of Beatrice’s cold kiss.
You don’t belong with them, Gemma cried.
“What do I do?” he said out loud, feeling tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Oh, Gemma, what do I do?”
Run away, she replied. Go into hiding. You can hide. You have done it before — after I died.
“They’ll hunt me down,” Leif wept, the tears overflowing now. “Draven knows of my abilities now. He won’t just let me go.”
Leif ran southward along the rocky shore of the river, eyeing it with desire. He could jump in and let the rapid river carry him all the way to the Mississippi River, and then on to the Gulf of Mexico. Yes, he’d drown multiple times on such a journey, but he’d be far away from Beatrice by that point. He’d be separated from the vampire world.
But still, he’d be hunted for the rest of his life.
So it was that he continued to run along the shore, sprinting under the sun. He didn’t care if humans saw him. He was running faster than he’d sped away from the weres at Slegr Ranch, putting as much distance between himself and Beatrice.
Leif no longer paid attention to his surroundings. The river next to him varied very little, and the green-foliaged landscape on his other side didn’t change, except for an occasional dock for boats to go out into the water.
He didn’t know how long he’d been sprinting before he came to a sliding stop. Nearby, a painted wooden sign stood like a beacon:
The La Framboise Island Ferry
$2 for singles, or $3 for couples!
Enjoy the romance of the river!
“This is it,” he muttered, gazing across the Missouri River. The island stood among the water like a castle surrounded by a moat. A northward-running landbridge connected it to the city of Pierre. Leif was surprised at just how close he was to the city. Nearby, he spotted a several groups of fishermen along the banks, casting their fishing lines. Boats were anchored farther out, peppering the deeper waters with more fisherman looking for a big catch.
He was surprised to see that no other bridges connected to the island. Outside of traveling on the river, there was one way in and one way out. Draven would love that fact. Ensnaring the shifters would be all too easy.
His curiosity grew, and he found himself stepping onto the small stretch of sandy land that made up the bridge. The shores had been built up with large rocks, looking well landscaped. Halfway onto the stretch of bridge, a horseshoe outcropping had been formed, and on the opposite side, wooden planks symmetrically built over the water allowed for people to get a better view of the water life swimming below.
None of this interested Leif much, for his attention was on the actual island. As he drew nearer, he was amazed at how many trees and shrubs covered the place. It seemed the entire island was a miniature forest. Mix it with the quiet, inviting solitude that the island seemed to abound with, he wished it was closer to Washington.
After clearing the bridge, he stepped into the trees, taking in their shade with sweet remembrance. The trunks and branches hid him away from the world, but they also hid away his worry. He knew his place, and it wasn’t among vampires. It was amidst forests and orchards — a natural sanctuary.
He came across several trails that had been created for hikers and bikers, but he steered clear of them. Leif didn’t mind stepping through the more rugged terrain, and he didn’t want to risk encountering any who might be out for a summer stroll.
Time didn’t matter much among the trees, and soon, Leif found himself approaching a large building. The exterior was made up of countless gray bricks, and stretched two floors high.
Leif placed a hand on the exterior wall. “A random structure in the woods, and obvious well-kept. This must be the school,” he muttered.
The rushing river could be heard to the north, not too far away.
There were windows nearby, and Leif was cautious to be as quiet as possible. A few of them were open, allowing Leif the chance to hear voices with his enhanced senses. It seemed a class was in session at the first one. Crouching low, he moved forward until he was directly under the window.
“And that is where the first nagas were discovered,” a female voice said. “According to the textbook Shifters Through the Ages, we learn that they were a people who preferred to stay to themselves.”
There was a pause, and Leif had to hold himself back from sneaking to peek through the window.
“Do you have a question, Ms. Rogers?” the teacher asked.
“A comment,” the student replied. “My parents told me that other shifters used to be afraid of us nagas. I’ve always wondered why that is?”
“You must not have read yesterday’s assigned readings, did you?” the teacher asked.
There was a moment of silence before the student replied, “No, ma’am. I had to run an errand into town last night for my mother.”
“I’d encourage you to read it before we move on to studying harpy history next week,” the teacher said. “But long story short, it used to be believed that nagas were a part of the were archaic family. This, of course, is not so — while a bite from a naga can hurt, there are no venom sacks in their mouths. As you all know, a naga can’t transform a human into another naga.”
“We do have venom sacks,” the student said. “They’re in our tails, close to our stingers.”
“An excellent point, Ms. Rogers — no pun intended, of course,” the teacher replied. “Naga venom has paralytic capabilities to humans and shifters, and is particularly effective against vampires. If a vampire gets stung by a naga, they are minutes away from death.”
Leif shuddered. This was information he’d never heard before. What if the Slegrs had been a family of nagas? He could have ended up dying on their ranch. Such a danger made him wonder what else he needed to know about shifters to properly protect himself.
He stayed a while longer, listening to the teacher and various other students discuss how the nagas were brought into the school of unified shifters, and just how beneficial their roles were for The Island. It was fascinating, but he didn’t want to overstay his welcome. If Leif were somehow discovered, things would not end up going well for him.
Leif decided it would be good to get a feel for the exterior of the building. It was the kind of thing Draven would ask him about later. And he believed Draven’s threat: having his head removed from his shoulders and mounted among all of the vampire leader’s shifter trophies was not exactly on his bucket list.
He carefully crouch-walked beside the bricky exterior of the school. Slowly, he approached a part of the wall that formed a ninety-degree angle, and it shot out to the southwest. Leif counted the windows as he walked under them, discovering that this part of the school had just as many as the first part he’d come to. As he stepped under the final window, a loud snap came as he crunched a branch he hadn’t seen on the ground, one that had fallen from one of the nearby trees. The sound caused him to freeze.
“Wait, did you hear that?” someone said from within.
A short pause came, and Leif held his breath.
“Hear what, Obe?” came another voice.
“Something outside,” said the one called Obe. “It’s probably a stupid animal or something.”
Panicking, Leif looked around and saw the nearby trees and the shadows they were putting off from the sun. Quickly, he pulled on them, begging them to conceal him. To his relief, they ripped away from their places and swirled around him like a miniature whirlwind. He wondered what he looked like on the other side, a mess of shadows in broad daylight.
Above him, the brown hair of a young man — not more than twenty — popped out and looked down, straight at him.
“High winds, what is that? Ren, come check this out.”
Another head popped out the window — a crop of black hair on his head. He looked to be Japanese. His thin eyes narrowed. “Are you messing with me? It looks like an inverted cyclone or something. Are you manipulating the weather?”
The one called Obe shook his head in confusion. “Not this time.”
“Weird,” Ren said. “Let’s go out and have a closer look.”
Obe nodded, then their heads both disappeared so fast, as if they’d been called for dinner.
Leif took the opportunity to run into the safety and cover of the trees, once again finding solace among their concealing branches.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SIX MONTHS LATER
Beatrice was no pushover. Upon Leif’s discovery of the shifter school, he’d taken it upon himself to keep the place a secret. After all, there were twenty-four islands in the state of South Dakota.
He made the mistake of staying on La Framboise Island well after nightfall, unable to bring himself to return to the cabin where Beatrice was no doubt waiting to play housewife to him. But Leif should have known better.
Beatrice had followed his tracks — and in her words, his scent — straight to The Island. Over the past six months, Pike Haven Resort had become infested with vampires — including Draven. He’d strategized targeted areas to draw out the shifters with the intent to test their strength.
Leif now found himself in Draven’s cabin, the windows keeping the winter sun blotted out. Candlelight danced upon the vampire leader’s cold features. He held the stiff tail of a naga, it’s stinger curved and glinting in the light, as if it was ready to prick somebody. The taxidermy chemicals were still on it, even though the unfortunate creature had been killed a few months before.
“She was a feisty one,” Draven said, balancing the iridescent-scaled tail with one hand. Leif forced himself to not look at the trophy. “Feisty, yet unwise. She separated from her gryphon and kitsune friend. I’m afraid she stung one of our own in the process. But losing one vampire to kill a naga?” The vampire nodded in approval. “It was worth it.”
Trading lives. Of course Draven was okay with it. Adding numbers to his forces was a simple thing. Leif feared the nagas weren’t so fortunate.
“But it’s not the naga or the kitsune I want,” Draven continued. “As we talked when you first arrived, it’s the gryphon I want.”
Leif kept his disgust hidden. His lack of knowledge about vampire history put him at a disadvantage. He wondered why Draven was so obsessed with killing the gryphon who’d been doing a number on Draven’s vampires over the past few months.
“You’re awfully quiet today, Leif,” Draven said, as if noticing his presence for the first time.
“There’s not much to say,” Leif replied with a shrug. “Maybe I’ve been around death for too much of my life.”
Draven chuckled and pointed the tail in his direction. “Like a shadow, death follows the feet of the vampire.”
That is truth, Gemma said. Who knew the serpent could be honest about anything?
Leif winced. “I wish it didn’t have to be that way.”
Setting the naga tail on the table between them, Draven gave him a curious look. “I’ve known you for a little while now, and you never cease to amaze me by just how un-vampirelike you are. You don’t glory in blood and gore. You don’t count your victims in a personal log. You stay out of most of the fights, except for the ones I’ve asked you to personally be a part of.”
Draven was referring to the getaway at the rundown theater in Blunt. There was a vampire recruitment meeting — surprisingly well attended, by the sounds of it. But the real purpose of the event wasn’t to draw new vampires into the fold. It was to draw the shifters out. Leif’s job had been the safest one: wait in the truck below the stage, then drive away once Draven and Beatrice triggered the trap door and landed in the bed of the vehicle.
Never having driven a vehicle before, Leif found himself needing to learn. Beatrice had instructed him on the dirt roads close to the resort.
But zooming out of the rundown theater had been exhilarating. Leif wished his memory experiences would work again so he could re-experience the sheer speed and power of Draven’s truck.
As exciting as the getaway had been, though, the recruitment meeting had left Leif feeling hollow and disgusted. He had no way of telling how many people had shown up, but the idea that people willingly came with the intent to become vampires seemed so backwards. Leif wondered how many had gotten hurt during the shifters’ attack. Although he wasn’t up on the stage with Draven and Beatrice, he could hear the commotion above. A piercing shriek filled the air, which caused Leif’s skin to crawl. The ear-splitting sound contained such rage and animosity. Leif had faced vicious shifters before, but the shrieking gryphon sounded like a foe beyond anything he’d encountered.
