The Accidental Kiss (The Kiss Book 1) (8 page)

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Authors: Nicole Simone

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: The Accidental Kiss (The Kiss Book 1)
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“You mean only girls are born with this gift?”

“Afraid so, darling.”

That was news to my ears. The timer on the oven buzzed, shattering the heaviness in the room. I slipped on a pair of oven mitts and removed the cookies. They were gooey in the middle, golden brown on the outside.

“However, it’s not like it has been that bad. Having this little gift of yours.” Laura’s voice rose in a question. “Right?”

Considering my head was still squarely on my shoulders and nobody had died yet, no my gift wasn’t that bad.
Although, it’s not like it has been activated and frankly, I was dreading the day my ability was brought to life.

“Sure,” I said.

Her sigh of relief was audible. A warm breeze floated through the window. I glanced outside and saw the full moon hanging low in the sky. Stars twinkled brightly against the inky black drop. My mom was right, this town might be weird but it was beautiful.

Laura’s chair scraped against the hardwood floors. “Sorry, Sky, but I’m beat. Can we pick up this line of questioning tomorrow?”

“Sure.” I dropped a few cookies on a plate and turned around to give them to her. “Sleep tight.”

“Thanks. You’re the best.”

While I was disappointed Laura didn’t answer all my questions, a majority of them could only be answered by Daemon himself. Too revved to sleep, I grabbed my jacket and went outside. The streetlights illuminated my path as I walked aimlessly. Back in Los Angeles, Melissa and I would sneak out of my bedroom window at night and go to the beach. The crashing waves, sea salt whipped hair, cold sand between my toes… it was heaven. Here in Louisiana, the closest thing to a beach was the bayou, which was great if you wanted to get your legs eaten off by alligators. Since I rather liked my bottom torso, I headed in the vague direction of the park. At this hour, the town was spookily deserted and I felt a growing sense of discomfort as I got farther from my house. I tugged my sweater tight around my body. Stupid Stephen King novels were making me paranoid. And so was the supposed voodoo priest after my blood. A black car with tinted windows slowed when it passed and then rolled to a complete stop a few feet away. What the hell? Two ordinary men got out of the vehicle, however, when they turned, I saw they weren’t ordinary at all. Their eyes glowed a pale green in the darkness. Entranced, I watched as they moved closer. Their gait was slow and calculating, like a cheetah pack about to pounce on its pray. Knowing I should run and being able to run were two different things. My legs were rooted to the spot. The streetlights flashed across their translucent skin.

“Hey girly, you need a ride?” freak number one asked.

His voice was reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard, which was what it took to unstick my legs from the ground. I booked it in the opposite direction. The world blew past me until it somehow ended up underneath me. My head cracked on the cement and blinding white pain exploded in front of my eyes. I let out a low moan.

“You can’t run from us so don’t even try,” freak number two said above me. He grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. “Are you ready to go willingly now?”

I swung my head around and spit in his face. “Fuck you.”

“You bitch,” he screamed as he lunged toward me. I looked at him steely eyed, prepared to feel the smack of an open palm against my cheek but freak number one lurched him back.

“Calm down, Frederick,” freak number one said. “We need her alive. Fresh blood is of utmost importance.”

Right then everything clicked into place. Daemon wasn’t lying. There was a voodoo priest who would send his zombies out for blood and they currently had me in their evil talons. My future outcome wasn’t looking too good.

Frederick grabbed my jaw. “Be a good little girl or else this will be a lot more painful than it has to be.”

My voice cracked as I tried to conceal the fear written on my face. “You don’t scare me.”

“I beg to differ.” His fist reeled back and punched me in the stomach. I doubled over as a searing ache tore through my side. Frederick bent at the waist and his sour breath tickled my cheek. “I think you’re mighty scared and you have all the reason in the world to be.”

“Enough conversation,” freak number one commanded. “We have to get her to the van.”

Frederick let go of my arm while freak number one took control. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and dragged me to their vehicle. My legs kicked widely as a blood-curdling scream broke the silence of the night. Nonetheless, the houses on my block remained shrouded in darkness and nobody came to my rescue. I was alone. Frederick swung open the doors of the van. To my surprise, there weren’t tools of torture lying about, only a bare trunk with a metal floor and a random backpack. Still, I knew as soon as I entered the vehicle, I might as well count myself as dead. Freak number one loosened his grasp on my scalp. Seizing my opportunity, I twisted out of his hold. My chest burned as I booked it down the street. However, in my panic induced state, there was one thing that slipped my mind: their inhuman like speed. Frederick closed in on me like a lighting bolt and struck without remorse. Ringing sounded in my ears as he landed a blow to my jaw. Before I could crumple to the ground, he gathered my bloodied and bruised body into his arms. The world around me melted into a canvas of black and gray. He deposited me onto the metal floor of the van and closed the doors behind us. Bringing my knees to my chest, I curled into a ball.

“Give me your arm,” freak number one growled. When I didn’t give comply, he yanked it hard enough to almost dislocate my shoulder. I blinked back tears.

His fingers tapped my skin as if he was looking for a vein. With sickening clarity, I realized they were going to do exactly what Daemon described. Bleed me dry until there was nothing but a husk left.

“Aw, that’s a good one,” freak number one looked approvingly at a bright blue vein on my forearm.

While he was lusting after my veins, Frederick tied a thick rope around my ankles and then secured my free hand to a metal pipe. As soon as Frederick was sure I wasn’t going anywhere, he opened the backpack. I watched through swollen eyes as he removed several pint bags, a needle and a long plastic tube.

“She’s ready.” Freak number one outstretched his palm.

Frederick handed over the needle attached with the tube. I fought against my restraints as the silver needle grew closer to my skin. At the last second, I averted my gaze and felt a tiny pinprick. When opened them again, I saw a bag quickly filing with bright red liquid.

Freak number one’s gaze was bright with morbid glee. “This might take awhile. Sit back and slip into oblivion.”

Fury snaked through my body. “You sick assholes, you won’t get away with this,” I yelled.

They looked at me, grinning. “You were born for this. Might as well accept your fate,” Frederick said.

What was he talking about? This wasn’t a Pantene commercial. I wasn’t born to have my blood drained out of my body and left to die.

“Now shut up. It will all be over soon.” Freak number one stuffed a rag in my mouth that tasted like bitter chemicals.

My head soon grew heavy. Their faces became distorted, sounds slowed, and the scene around me dimmed. I could feel it in my bones. The end was near.

Suddenly the doors of the van exploded into shards of metal. As if I was peering through a thick layer of gaze, I observed the commotion around me. Frederick and freak number one scrambled backwards. They reached for their weapons at their hips but they weren’t quick enough. Blood spattered the walls as their bodies jerked from the impact of a gunshot. Squeezing my eyes shut against the violence, I willed it to all be over. Darkness tugged at my subconscious where death awaited. Before I succumbed, a voice spoke.

“I told you not to walk alone at night.”

When I died, I imagined Melissa would be waiting for me at the end of a dark tunnel. Her mangled body transformed into who she was before the accident—the definition of beauty with her high cheekbones and sculpted lips. Melissa would tangle her arms around my waist in a hug. Eyes bright with gossip, she would tell me about what heaven was really like. How the angels fraternized with the humans when they weren’t supposed to, how the food tasted like gum drops and most importantly, how she found happiness. This ideal scenario was what helped me manage my guilt because at the end of the day, Melissa should have lived.

A cloud made of pillows contoured around my body as I snuggled deeper into the cocoon. I opened my eyes than shut them again when the light reacted painfully with my head. What the hell did I do last night to warrant a hangover? I moaned and turned on my stomach. A dull throb ached behind my ribs.
Shit.
I sprang up right in bed as the events of last night came rushing back to me. Trapped in a van, my blood being drained out of my body, and then finally as death was about knock on my door, being rescued. I pulled my pajama sleeve up to find a bright red pinprick on my skin. My hands did an additional damage check. Besides the black and purple bruise on my ribs, I was damage free. Although, starving.

“I won’t complain if you want to take off your bottoms as well.”

I let out a squeak and turned my head in the direction of my closet. Daemon stepped out of the shadows. The light from my bedside table cast a warm glow over his drawn features. His t-shirt was ripped at the hem where it showed off his v-line.

I self-consciously tugged the sheets to my chin. “How long have you been here?”

His eyes crinkled with humor. “Since I saved your sorry ass.”

“So it was you.”

“Yes it was. And thank God too, you had only seconds to live when I busted those doors off the van.”

A flashback of blood spattering the walls swam in my vision. I thought the voodoo priest zombies were immortal like Daemon.

“You killed them,” I said slowly.

“I did.” When he witnessed the confusion in my gaze, Daemon answered my unspoken question. “Nobody is immortal. Everybody has a weakness, Sky.” Before I could ask what his was, Daemon grinned. “Don’t I at least get a thank you?”

Lost in the black hole of last night’s events, his words fell on deaf ears. Nausea turned my stomach at the realization of how close I had come to death. Those freaks would have taken my blood and left me to rot. To them I was merely a blood blank.

“What happened?” I murmured. “ I mean, how did I survive? I lost a lot of blood.”

Daemon settled into a chair next to my bed and plopped his bare feet on my duvet cover. “I brought you to a healing priestess where she worked her magic on you. Supposedly, it was touch and go for a while but you pulled through. Mrs. Lola said you’re a fighter.”

“How did she heal me?”

Daemon shrugged. “No idea. I wasn’t in the room.”

Great, that was just great. This high priestess could have stolen my kidney because why not? It seemed like everything in my body was up for grabs as of late. I covered my head with a bed sheet and peeked under my shirt.

“What the hell are you doing, Sky?” Daemon asked.

“Double checking for stitches. Since you didn’t have the foresight to head into the room with me, you have no idea what
Mrs. Lola
did.” I said her name in a mocking tone.

“First of all, not all priests are bad and overcome with power. Some actually help the community, like Mrs. Lola.” The sheet was jerked away. “And second of all, I’ve already seen everything so you don’t need to hide.”

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