{DETECTIVE GRANT’S POV}Detective Grant was shocked not because the crime scene was particularly bloody. Not because some horrific violence had taken place. It was something else. Something surreal.It was too quiet. Everything was in perfect place. Except, of course, for the body. He sat slumped backwards in his chair, his neck exposed. And there, under the light, were two perfect holes, right in his jugular vein.No blood. No signs of struggle. No torn clothing. Nothing else out of place. It was as if a bat had descended, sucked his blood perfectly clean, then flew away, without touching anything else. It was eerie. And outright terrifying. If his skin hadn’t turned completely white, she would have thought he was still alive, just taking a nap. She even felt tempted to go over and feel his pulse. But she knew that would be stupid.Sergei Rakov. He was young. And from what she’d heard, he’d been an arrogant prick. Could he already have had enemies?What in hell could have done
{KYLE’S POV}Kyle walked down the red carpeted hallways, strutting through the thick crowd. He was annoyed, as usual. He hated crowds, and he hated Carnegie Hall. He had been to a concert here once, in the 1890s, and it had not gone well. He did not release a grudge easily.As he marched down the hall, the high collars of his black tunic covering his neck and framing his face, people made way for him. Officers, security guards, press agents – the entire crowd parted ways.Humans are too easy to control, he thought. The slightest bit of mindbending, and they scurry out of the way like sheep.A vampire of the Blacktide Coven, Kyle had seen it all in his 3,000 plus years. He had been there when they killed Christ. He had witnessed the French Revolution. He had watched smallpox spread across Europe—and had even helped it spread. There was nothing left that could surprise them.But this night surprised him. And he did not like to be surprised.Normally, he would just let his usual
I woke to burning pain. My skin felt on fire, and when I tried to open my eyes, a stabbing pain forced them shut. It exploded into my skull.I kept my eyes closed, and instead used my hands to feel around. I was lying on top of something. It felt soft, yet firm. Uneven. It couldn’t be a mattress. I ran her fingers along it. It felt like plastic.I opened my eyes, more slowly this time, and peeked down at my hands. Plastic. Black plastic. And that smell. What was it? I turned my head just a little, opened my eyes a little more, and then I realized. I was sprawled out, on my back, on a pile of garbage bags. I craned my neck. I was inside a dumpster.I sat up with a start. The pain exploded, my neck and head splitting with pain. The stench was unbearable. I looked around, eyes open now, and was horrified. How the hell had I wound up here?I rubbed my forehead, trying to piece together the events that got me here. I drew a blank. I tried to remember last night. I used all my force of w
I stood outside my building and looked up apprehensively. It was sunset now, and the light didn’t bother me as much. In fact, as night approached, I felt stronger with each passing hour.I bounded up the five-story walkup with lightning speed, surprising myself. I took the steps three at a time, and my legs weren’t even tired. I couldn’t fathom what was happening to my body. Whatever it was, I loved it.My good mood dimmed as I approached the apartment door. My heart began to pound, as I wondered if my mom would be home. How would she react?But as I reached for the doorknob, I was surprised to see that the door was already open, slightly ajar. My foreboding increased. Why would it be open?I walked tentatively into the apartment, the wood creaking beneath my feet. I slowly stepped through the foyer and into the living room.As I entered I turned my head—and suddenly raised my hands to my mouth in shock. A horrible wave of nausea hit me. I turned and vomited.It was my mom. Lying
The three wheeled and stared at the cops.They then, slowly, walked towards them, completely unafraid.“I said FREEZE!”The leader kept walking, and the cop fired. The noise was deafening.But, amazingly, the leader didn’t even stop. He smiled even wider, simply reached out his hand, and caught the bullet in midair. I was shocked to see that he stopped it in mid-air, in his palm. He then held up his hand, slowly made a fist and crushed it. He opened his hand, and the dust slowly poured out onto the floor.The cops, too, stared back in shock, mouths open.The leader grinned even wider, reached out and grabbed the cop’s shotgun. He yanked it from him, wound up and struck the cop across the face. The cop went flying backwards, knocking over several of his men.I had seen enough.Without hesitating, I turned, opened the window and climbed through. I jumped onto the fire escape and raced down the rickety, rusted steps.I ran for all I was worth, twisting and turning. The old fire e
Where the hell was I?I woke to complete blackness. I felt a cold, metal pain on my wrists and ankles, and my limbs were sore. I realized I was chained. Standing. My arms were outstretched, by my sides, and I tried to move them, but they didn’t budge. Neither did my feet. I heard a rattle as I tried, and felt the cold, hard metal dig harder into my wrists and ankles.I opened my eyes wider, heart pounding, trying to get a feel for where I was. It was cold. I was still dressed, but barefoot, and I could feel cold stone beneath my feet. I also felt stone along my back. I was up against a wall. Chained to a wall.I looked hard about the room and tried to make something out. But the blackness was absolute. I was cold. And thirsty. I swallowed, and my throat was dry.I tugged for all I was worth, but even with my newfound strength, the chains did not budge. I was completely stuck.I tried with all my power to change back into a wolf.But nothing happened.I had no idea how it worked.
“Forgive these harsh accommodations,” the man said, running his hand along the thick metal chain that held me to the wall. “We’d be more than happy to let you go,” he said, “if only you would answer a few questions.”I looked back, unsure what to say.“I will begin. My name is Kyle. I am Deputy Leader of the Blacktide Coven,” he paused. “Your turn.”“I don’t know what you want from me,” I answered.“To start with, your coven. Who do you belong to? Or shall I say…your pack? Which is it?”I wracked my brain, trying to figure out if I had lost my mind. Was I imagining all of this? I thought I must be stuck in some sort of sick dream. But I felt the very real cold steel on my wrists and ankles, and knew I was not. I had no idea what to tell this man. What was he talking about? Coven? As in…vampire?Pack? As in werewolf?“I don’t belong to anyone,” I said.He stared for a long while, then slowly shook his head. “As you wish. We have dealt with rogues before. It’s always the same
When they opened the oak door, I could not believe my eyes. The room was enormous. Shaped in a huge circle, it was lined with hundred-foot-tall stone columns, ornately decorated. It was well lit, torches placed every 5 feet, all throughout the room. It looked like the Pantheon. It looked ancient.As I was led in, the next thing I noticed was the noise. It was a huge crowd. I looked around and saw hundreds, if not thousands, of men and women dressed in black, moving quickly all about the room. There was a strangeness to how they moved: it was so fast, so random, so…inhuman. I heard a swooshing noise, and looked up. Dozens of these people leapt, or flew, through the room, going from floor to ceiling, from ceiling to balcony, from column to ledge. That was the whooshing noise I had heard. It was as if I had entered a cave full of bats.I took it all in and was completely, utterly, shocked. Vampires did exist. Was I one of them?Or was I a werewolf?Or was I somehow…both?They led