Fashionably Dead (24 page)

“I don’t know,” I giggled.

“I felt like I was kissing my sister,” he groaned.

“Me too,” I said, punching him in the arm.

“I feel like your sister?” he asked, mortified.

“No,” I stammered, trying to suppress laughter, “not my sister . . . my brother.”

“Oookay,” Heathcliff said, “clearly our connection is not sexual.”

“Nope,” I agreed, “it’s not.”

“What is it then?” He searched my face for answers.

“I have no idea, but the connection is there. It’s real and it feels good.”

“Maybe we’re supposed to be friends,” he said quietly.

“Yes, but it’s more than that . . . although it’s definitely not lovers,” I said, wishing I knew exactly what I meant.

He smiled, but it was sad. “Definitely not lovers,” he agreed. He took my hand in his and he squeezed it. This time there was nothing sexual behind it.

“Whoever you fall in love with will be the luckiest woman in the world,” I told him.

“Ahhh, but she won’t get my whole heart,” he said. “A part of it shall always belong to you.”

I wanted to cry. Why in the hell do I never end up with the nice guy?

Heathcliff chuckled, “Astrid, your brain doors are open.”

“Crap.”

“Astrid, just so you know, Ethan is a nice guy. He’s one of the best. He is the finest man I know.”

I looked down. I didn’t want to discuss Ethan with him. I had no idea what I was going to do about Ethan. Even though there was nothing romantic between Heathcliff and me, he’d given me a lot to think about where Ethan was concerned. Nice guy or no, Ethan and I might be too combustible.

Heathcliff took my chin in his hand and gently lifted my face up to his. “We are connected. I believe we are connected for eternity,” he said. “We will care for each other, we will have each other’s backs, and we will never betray one another. We will love each other as brother and sister.”

He pulled a small dagger from his boot and sliced his palm. I took his dagger and did the same. We joined hands and we mixed our blood. It was right.

Afterwards I wrapped my arms around him and laid my head on his chest. “How’s Cathy going to feel about this?” I asked.

I felt his body shudder at the thought. “She’ll get used to it. Eventually.”

Chapter 22

Fight training at the Cressida House was ugly and painful. The training facilities were top notch, including a huge gym with every machine known to man. There was a boxing ring and a three mile indoor circular running track.

The training center also encompassed a very large empty area covered in mats for sparring. There was an observation deck on the north wall about forty feet up. It was accessible from an outside set of stairs. One building contained a shooting range and a cavernous room filled with weapons—swords, daggers, katanas, throwing stars, guns and then some.

The weapons building also housed an area used for knife throwing. I spent many hours there after I nailed Cathy in the head. Thank you Jesus, I was getting more proficient with daggers and swords. I really didn’t want to kill one of my comrades by accident.

After the car kissing debacle, Heathcliff decided it was okay to spar with me. That would have been fine, but the son of a bitch punched as hard as The Kev. If I didn’t have healing powers, I’d be dead on the floor. After the third punch to my head, which may have caused brain damage, I understood why he was in charge of the Elite Guard.

“Are you okay?” Venus whispered as she pulled me to my feet.

“Fucking awesome,” I muttered, getting up for another round. I was going to wipe the floor with Heathcliff’s ass soon. I just needed to live through his attempt at wiping the floor with mine.

Venus, much to my great delight and relief, was also chosen to be a new Guard. She was present along with the other new recruits. None of them really spoke to me. Actually, most of the Vamps in general stayed away from me. I couldn’t tell if they were scared of me or just showing respect to the Chosen One. Whatever it was, it made me feel bad.

The majority of the existing Guard, including Ethan, was out on patrol, but several were here to put us through our paces. Cathy, looking thrilled to see me, was here along with Samuel, Luke and David. I loved that all the senior male Guards had Biblical names. I wondered if that was a requirement.

The veterans stretched us. While that may sound lovely, it wasn’t. It was freakin’ excruciating. Having a two hundred and thirty pound Vampyre push your leg up over your head with all his weight behind it sucked. Bad.

“Son of a bitch, Samuel,” I grunted. “That kills.”

“Not as much as the razor stubble on your leg is killin’ me,” he laughed and pushed harder.

“You’re a shithat,” I shouted through the pain. I was sure Samuel was going to pull one of my legs out of the socket and right off my body.

“What the fuck is a shithat?” he asked, truly puzzled.

“I have no clue,” I moaned as he yanked my body into a pretzel.

Not everyone was intimidated by me, and Samuel certainly wasn’t. I think that’s why I liked him so much. He couldn’t have cared less if I were Queen of the World or just some random Vamp off the street.

He was a big, good-looking guy with mocha skin, spiky black hair and long, lean muscles. His nose was a little crooked and he had a wonderful jagged scar that ran along his left cheekbone. It made him look dangerous. Hell, he was dangerous. They all were. He had intelligent dark brown eyes, the speed of a cheetah, a beautiful smile and an infectious laugh. Everyone loved Samuel, especially the ladies, from what I understood. He took great pleasure in repeatedly explaining to me that the Chosen One should be able to kick his ass. Clearly that hadn’t happened yet.

“You are such a pussy,” Samuel yelled gleefully as he put me in a chokehold.

“You are a son of a bitch, Asshat,” I tried to yell back, but it came out all muffled due to my head being trapped in his armpit.

“God,” he shouted, “you are the wimpiest recruit I’ve had in over ninety years.”

He forcefully threw me to the mat. As he was about to body slam me, I quickly rolled to my left, hopped up and gave him a round house kick to the head. He staggered back, grinning like an idiot.

I realized I was grinning like an idiot too. Who knew violence could be so much fun? “I’ve had about enough of your shit, you dress-wearin’, backward-ass momma’s boy,” I panted, egging him on.

“Ooooo, sticks and stones . . . ” he yelled and flipped me off, still grinning from ear to ear.

He ran at me with speed that almost made him disappear . . . almost. I dropped down to my right. I threw my leg out and undercut him, sending him flying. He landed with a thud on his back. With swift aggression I didn’t know I possessed I pinned him
and
elbow slammed him in the face. The crunch was horrific and blood spurted everywhere. Samuel moaned and rolled around on the floor as he tried to adjust his nose and realign his cheekbones and eye sockets.

“Oh my God,” I screamed and dropped to the ground to help him. “I am so sorry.”

He was laughing. He grabbed me in a bear hug and bled all over me. “I am so proud of you,” he gurgled through the blood. “You are finally close to kicking my ass.”

“I’d say that was more than close.” I was so relieved that he wasn’t mad or dead.

“Astrid, you have to stop holding back,” he said. It was difficult to take him seriously with all the blood gushing from his face.

“Samuel, you’re my friend. I don’t have too many of those and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You can’t, Astrid,” he smiled, wiping his blood off of my face. “Short of you setting me on fire, removing my head or putting a silver stake through my heart, you can’t permanently hurt me. We’re Vampyres. We heal.” He ruffled my hair and pulled me to my feet. I was amazed at how quickly his face was mending back together.

“How old are you, Samuel?” I asked. He had to be
old
to heal that fast.

“One thousand and three.”

“Holy shit, you’re older than dirt!”

“That’s right, little girl, and I have been waiting for the Chosen One for a long time. I assumed when he or she came along, I’d finally find a good fighting partner. But noooo,” he laughed. “Who knew she’d be such a fucking weak little peckerhead?”

“That’s it,” I yelled, putting Samuel into a headlock and swinging him around like a doll. “I’ve had enough of your shit, you redneck jackass.” I threw him across the room with such force I knew I broke both of his legs and possibly his back.

When and how did I become so violent . . . and when did I start to enjoy it?

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he grinned through his excruciating pain and gave me a thumbs-up. “If I were the real bad guy, you would have incapacitated me enough to stake me or decapitate me. I am so proud of you!”

I smiled at my crazy, very injured friend. I was sure it would take him at least a day to recover from what I had just done. I ran over and propped him gently against the wall. He squeezed my hand with pride and I kissed him on the forehead. I was torn between feeling really bad and really good. I turned to find the rest of the Vampyres in the room gaping at me in shock. Fucktard . . . they all wanted a piece of me now. I looked around and made eye contact with each one of them. It was do or die time . . .

“Who’s next?” I asked.

Cathy stepped forward. “I am.”

I looked down at the floor and took a moment to regroup. If I had thought it through, I wouldn’t have asked that question. I would have challenged Luke or David or even Heathcliff, but I didn’t think and now I was stuck. Samuel gave me a gentle push toward the mat. I looked to Heathcliff and he nodded.

Cathy intercepted the look and grunted in disgust. “Come on, you stupid holier-than-thou bitch. Come and try to get a piece of me.” She was crazy. “Your silly little outfit won’t distract me, dear,” she said, looking pointedly at her brother.

There was power in stillness, so I walked to the center of the mat and waited. I stood quietly and claimed my space. Cathy circled me, dissipating her energy because of her anger and pride. I kept my eyes on her and my knees slightly bent, ready to spring.

The fighting techniques that we had to master were a mixture of martial arts and pure brute strength. One of the favorites included Dim Mak, also known as the Death Touch. This technique would kill a mortal instantly, but didn’t kill Vampyres. It could knock them out or delay their reaction, which provided valuable staking or decapitating time. Iaido involved swords, specifically the katana. Ninjutsu involved throwing knives and stars. That was the one I had a little trouble with—
just ask Cathy.
And then there was my favorite, Capoeira, which was very dance-like yet still very aggressive.

Katanas, throwing stars and daggers seemed to be the weapons of choice, but we had to be excellent marksmen too. Guns were not considered honorable, but Vampyres were very practical. Unfortunately, in today’s world they were necessary. Several of the older Guards, my buddy Samuel included, were outstanding archers. However, I had tricks up my sleeves that they weren’t aware of. That was why I fought so hard not to lose control. I was fairly sure I could kill every Vampyre in this room with Magic, and I really wished that was not the case. I didn’t want the responsibility that came with my power.

Thankfully, The Kev had taught me how to separate Kill Magic from Damage Magic. It wasn’t easy. I had accidentally killed a robin in my backyard when I was practicing and I cried for three hours. Let me assure you, it wasn’t a pleasant death for the bird. I was positive whoever decided that I was the Chosen One had made a terrible mistake. If I had trouble killing a bird . . . I refused to finish the rest of the thought.

The Kev assured me that a killing machine that was capable of compassion, like me, would be one of the ultimate warriors of all time. I didn’t understand his logic, but I prayed he was right. I had a bad feeling about whatever trouble was headed my way. I had no idea if I would be up to the challenge.

Cathy was getting impatient and I let her. Too much aggression led to carelessness and mistakes. She should know better. “I know why you’re holding back,” she jeered.

I just stared.

“You’re afraid of me,” she smiled. It wasn’t pretty. “You know if you give it your all and I win . . . which I will . . . you’re nothing. You’re less than nothing, and Ethan will soon know it.”

Several of the Vamps in the room laughed uncomfortably.

I stayed silent.

“Are you going to fight me this time,
Angel
?” All the Elite Guard gasped. Ethan was the only one allowed to call me Angel. I couldn’t have given a shit, but the fact that she said it was serious business. No one messed around with the Prince’s edicts. She clearly had a death wish.

I didn’t want to hurt her. I knew she would heal, but for some reason hurting her was abhorrent to me. She clearly didn’t feel the same way. Why on earth I felt protective of her was beyond me. It wasn’t about Ethan anymore, and it certainly wasn’t because she was sweet or defenseless. Maybe it was because she smelled so similar to Heathcliff. I suppose scent ran in the family. I couldn’t figure out my reticence.