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Authors: Wynne Channing

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BOOK: What Kills Me
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I dropped the backpack at my feet and
slumped in the leather seat, my arms crossed.

“We’re dumping the car in Rome. The
guy will get it back,” he said, playing with the dials as the car
rolled down the street.

“What are you looking for?” I asked.
He ignored me so I asked again.

“I’m trying to turn the headlights
on.”

“It’s on the other side. That’s the
indicator.”

“That’s strange,” he muttered to
himself.

“When was the last time you
drove?”

“Awhile ago.”

“What’s awhile?”

“I don’t know. A decade or
two.”

Lucas pulled the car onto a main road.
The car smelled like wet dog and lemon air freshener. I rolled my
window down and leaned my head out to feel the wind on my face. It
reminded me of soaring through the air. A van beside us blared its
horn, startling me. I suddenly realized we were drifting into the
van’s lane. Lucas jerked the car back into his own lane. Flashing
us a rude gesture, the driver pulled ahead.

“Do you want me to drive?” I
asked.

“No.”

“I don’t mind. I love
driving.”

He hunched over the steering wheel.
“Why? What’s wrong with my driving?”

“Nothing.”

“Do you want to get out and
walk?”

“No.”

“Then keep quiet.”

Twenty minutes clicked by and I fought
the urge to turn on the radio. Lucas kept flicking his eyes up to
the rearview mirror.

“Do you think we’re being followed?” I
asked.

“Not yet.”

After another twenty minutes he
relaxed against the seat cushions. One of his hands fell away from
the steering wheel and into his lap.

“Those vampires back there had the
craziest weapons,” I said.

“We have a lot of innovative tools for
beheading.”

“What about guns with silver bullets?
Would that slow them down?”

“Silver bullets? We’re not
werewolves.”

“Werewolves are real too?”

He glanced at me and then did a double
take, seeing my bewildered face.

“Yes,” he said, watching my eyes
widen. “They hang out with Santa and the Easter Bunny.”

I remained frozen for a moment and
then pushed his arm.

“Hey, I’m driving,” he said. He turned
away from me to check the left lane over his shoulder but not
before I caught a subtle smile on his face. It was gone so quickly
that I wasn’t sure if I had seen it at all.

A few minutes passed. “So, they’re not
real, right?”

 

***

 

All of a sudden, Lucas was tapping my
leg and the car was no longer moving. My head snapped up and I
rubbed my mouth with the back of my hand to make sure that I hadn’t
been drooling.

“What happened?”

“You nodded off.”

He had parked in a dimly lit alley. He
leaned over and pulled back the zipper on his bag. Rummaging
inside, he took out two silver packages and handed me
one.

I squeezed the squishy foil
pouch.

“What is this?” I said.

“It’s blood.” He unscrewed the plastic
cap on the top of the package.

“It even comes in convenient
travel-sized containers,” I said. “Vampires think of everything.
Where does this blood come from? Are blood banks like your grocery
stores?”

“Stop talking,” he said.

I watched him put the pouch to his
lips.

“What are you looking at?” he said
after swallowing half the bag.

“It just looks…weird, you drinking out
of that thing.”

“What?”

“I just thought vampires would look,
you know, vicious while drinking blood,” I said. “You look like
you’re in kindergarten with your juice pack.” I regretted it when I
saw his face.

“Shut up and drink your juice. You’re
tired because your body is still adjusting to being a vampire.
Maybe if you stopped flapping your mouth so much, you’d conserve
some energy.”

I unscrewed my cap and took
a modest sip. Soon I was tipping it upside down and sucking at it
greedily.
So thirsty.
The liquid burned going down. I pressed the bag between my
fingers like a child finishing the last drop of her freezer pop.
Blood dribbled down my chin.

“Hey schoolgirl, wipe your face,” he
said. “Let’s go.”

We climbed out of the car
and trotted down the road. The people around us moved so slowly, as
if they were swimming against the air. A trio of young women in
short skirts and sparkly, oversized jewelry wobbled by us in
stilettos. Their competing perfumes—one citrus, one floral, and one
vanilla-laced—assaulted my nose. One of the women was so tanned she
looked like she was wearing a crinkled, orange clay mask. The other
two held each other and laughed joyfully, mouths open, strings of
saliva between their lips. I felt a pang of longing. A week ago I
had walked these streets, hoping that Ryka might come visit
me.
This could have been us.

The girls followed Lucas with their
eyes, whispered in Italian, and giggled.

“What did they say?” I
asked.

“Things that should not be repeated to
a lady.”

I rolled my eyes.

All of a sudden we heard shrieks and
the screech of tires. Behind us the tanned girl punched the hood of
a car that had almost hit them as they crossed an intersection.
They shouted, their arms flapping and heads wobbling like chickens.
The driver shook his fist out the window and jutted out his lower
jaw. He then began typing feverishly on a BlackBerry while using
his elbows to steer. His car rolled up beside us and I could hear
the hurried clicking. It upset me that he had so little concern for
others, for their delicate lives.

“I can’t believe that guy was texting
while he drove and almost ran those girls over.”

“He was what?”

“He was using his phone when he should
be paying attention to the road. That is so dangerous. I hate when
people are so careless that they…”

Lucas moved to the edge of the
sidewalk and reached through the driver’s window. He snatched the
BlackBerry and tossed it over his shoulder. The driver was so
stunned that it took him a second before he slammed on his
brakes.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” I
said as we walked away. I glanced back at the man, who was shouting
and stomping around the street, searching for his device. “Why did
you do that?”

“So I didn’t have to listen to you
talk about it anymore. Where’s the church? You said it was in this
area.”

I recognized the storefront with the
stained-glass windows. The table where Paolo had bought my necklace
was folded up and propped against a wall.

“This way,” I said, leading him to the
gate guarding the church. “This is it.”

I peered through the bars. There was
no movement inside. Lucas took two steps back and hurtled over the
fence. “Show-off,” I muttered. I scaled the fence and landed in the
courtyard. I led him to the side door. This time it was locked. As
I was trying the knob, I was acutely aware of how close Lucas was
standing behind me. Reaching over my shoulder, he leaned into me
and placed his hand against the door, forcing it open with a
crack.

“I thought we were trying to be
quiet,” I whispered.

Inside, the church was
dark. I stopped at the collection box.
This is where I thought Paolo was going to kiss me.
The movie in my mind replayed the scene. On a
close-up of his angelic face, the reel switched to him screaming
and scorched.

He can’t hurt you anymore.
Besides, on a list of scariest vampires encountered, Paolo no
longer ranks very high.

Suddenly a blue-robed figure appeared
out of the shadows and leaped onto Lucas’s back. I saw the glint of
a blade slip under Lucas’s neck and my body stiffened. I tried to
scream but there was no sound.

 

 

Chapter
19

 

Lucas bent over and flipped his
attacker onto the ground. The assailant tumbled onto the floor, the
blue robe sliding up to reveal tiny, tangled limbs.

“Lettie!” I exclaimed.

Lying on her back, she looked at my
upside-down face and gasped. “Zee?”

When she stood up, I wrapped her in a
bear hug. I hadn’t noticed that she had gone rigid in my
embrace.

“I’m so glad to see you,” I said into
her tufts of hair. She softened and hugged me back. We peeled
ourselves away from each other.

“Everyone’s looking for you,” she
said, pointing a small knife at me. “How did you
escape?”

“Lettie, what were you going to do
with that?”

“Sorry,” she said, putting her hands
behind her back. “It was the only thing I could find. I heard you
come in and I didn’t recognize you. Why are you dressed like a
boy?”

“Lettie, this is Lucas.”

“Hi, I’m Lettie. Sorry about
earlier.”

“Where is the cleric?” Lucas
said.

“Nice to meet you too,” she
said.

“Where’s Uther?” I asked.

“He’s gone.”

“Where?” I said.

“Romania. He left a few hours ago. He
wanted to consult the Sacriva about your coming.”

“The what?”

“The Sacriva. The vampire scriptures,”
Lucas said.

“The original sacred writings are
hidden in Romania. Uther has never seen them, but his sire taught
him to interpret the ancient language. He said that he wanted to
read the Eschatos passages in particular, to read what they say
about you.”

“What are you talking
about?”

“Yes, what are you talking about?”
Lucas echoed.

“After you escaped, there was a
meeting of the clerics. Uther told me…” Lettie said, then paused.
“They say that the Sacriva foretold your arrival.”

“I don’t understand,” I
said.

“The Ancients predicted this day would
come,” she said.

“The Ancients? Lettie, what are you
talking about?” I turned to Lucas. “What is she talking about?” He
shook his head.

Lettie tugged our sleeves and sat us
down on the pews. She dropped her little high-pitched voice an
octave.

“There’s a legend about
you.”

“There is?”

“Listen,” Lucas said, frowning, “you’d
better start making some sense.”

Lettie licked her lips and leaned
forward.

“In the beginning, there were seven
Ancients. They were considered to be the first vampires. It is said
that vampires and humans worshiped the Ancients as gods, for they
had infinite strength and terrifying powers. They walked under the
sun. They knew what was in your mind. They could predict the
future. Their prophecies became the Sacriva.

“One day, two of the Ancients fought
and one was killed. It is said that all of the vampires who had
been created by that Ancient instantly fell dead to the ground. The
entire bloodline died with that one Ancient. After that all
vampires feared for their own lives, and the ruling Monarchy
decided that the empire needed to be protected. So in an effort to
capture the remaining Ancients alive, the Monarchy waged a war
against them that is said to have lasted a hundred years. Legions
of vampires were slaughtered before the Ancients were finally
contained. The Monarchy weakened them by draining their blood and
then sealed them in gold casts, imprisoning them forever. Then the
Monarchy dug a well so deep that it could never be touched by the
sun and filled it with the blood of the Ancients.”

She paused. I already knew what she
was going to say.

“This is the well that you fell into,”
said Lettie. “We call it the Crucivium.”

“And it was written in the Sacriva
that a girl would fall into this well?” Lucas said.

“Not exactly. The Sacriva says that
when the vampire empire is at war, when it is unstable and in
danger of destroying the natural world, a human girl will be born a
vampire by unholy means.” Lettie stopped for a moment and looked
away. “This girl”—her voice wavered—“will restore order by killing
the entire vampire race.”

We fell silent. Lucas looked at me in
shock.

“That’s impossible,” I
said.

“That’s absurd,” Lucas
said.

“The Monarchy thinks this story is
about me?”

Lettie nodded.

“That’s absurd,” Lucas repeated. “It’s
just an old story.”

“Whether you believe it or not, the
Monarchy believes this to be true. Uther says that’s why they
immediately ordered your death. To stop you before you…”

“Before I what?” I said. “Kill
everyone? Lettie. Look at me. Do you think I could ever do that?
That I would ever hurt you?”

BOOK: What Kills Me
6.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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