Beginnings (Nightwalkers)

Beginnings

Prequel to the Nightwalkers Series

H.N. Sieverding

Beginnings

Prequel to the Nightwalkers Series

H.N. Sieverding

Copyright © 2014 H.N. Sieverding

First E-book Publication: December 2014

Cover design by: H.N. Sieverding

Edited by: Hannah Burlington

Ebook Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

Chapter One

Ashleigh recently signed a contract with New Castle Publishing for her Nightwalkers series. The first novel,
Kiss of the Moon
, was releasing soon. Since then she had been working non-stop on the second book. All she thought about was Nightwalkers lately. She couldn’t turn off the story running in her head, even if she wasn’t at the computer typing it out.

And that wasn’t a good thing. Not when the storyline for the series was inspired by her nightmares. By the persistent, repetitive dreams about a fictitious life she led with an evil king named Nicolas. He loved her, hurt her and had made her into a vampire. She had written the series to conquer this handsome devil, and to give the heroine in her dreams the happy ending she deserved.

Right now, Ashleigh was trying to sleep, but couldn’t. She had to work in the morning and she knew if she didn’t fall asleep now, it would make getting up that much harder. So, she did what she often did when she couldn’t sleep. She started telling herself a story in her head. One from Nightwalkers.

She then mouthed the words in her novel as she drifted off to sleep, “Do not fear my child for I will…” Then, she started to dream, a dream that she had dozens of times before. A dream about the fictional world in her Nightwalker series.

Ashleigh’s voice continued in her dream where she left off, “…for I will slay the evil king and bring peace to the land once again.”

Her dream world quickly blanketed her. Now, she was in a worse place than when she fell asleep. A dark, damp cellar, the smell of isolation hanging thick in the stale air. She could taste the dust around her, the filth leaving a film on her skin as well. The setting was medieval, something that was also the setting in Nightwalkers.

A single lamp sat near Ashleigh, illuminating her bright, blue eyes as a few children listened to her story. Ashleigh continued, “Never again shall you hide like a rat, but you will rise to the heavens like the queen that I see within you. Then, the brave knight took her close and—”

“Ashleigh,” Debra spoke, a lecturing tone to her voice. “Do not fill their head with rubbish. Knowing what is going on above is enough. They do not need to be scared further.” There was a scowl on the woman’s face, her once crisp, blue dress now covered in a layer of dirt and torn at the edges.

Ashleigh changed the subject, one of the children now sitting in her lap. “It’s quiet tonight.” Ashleigh gazed into the darkness beyond their lamp. Her eyes narrowed on the door she knew lied there. The exit that would let them breathe fresh air, but by doing so, she would most likely be captured by the monsters who lurked in the shadows. Their home was being ravaged by them.

“Tonight is the meteor shower.” Ashleigh’s mother, Marion, spoke, her eyes gazing at the door. “I wish I could sneak up and see it.”

“I don’t think that’d be a good idea,” Debra lectured. “We are not safe yet.”

“We haven’t heard from the dark king’s soldiers in a month. They probably don’t know there are any survivors left. I’m sure it’s safe for us to return to the village.” Marion motioned to the door. “I bet they have moved onto Caspian because there is nothing that is of use to them here anymore.”

“You do not know that.” Debra now held a child in her arms. He was equally ill-dressed and dirty.

“I think if we were quiet, we could sneak up and watch it.” Her mother turned to Ashleigh, and another girl, Cathy. “Will you come with me?”

“Okay.” Cathy stood, a small smile on her face. She then went to Ashleigh and pulled up on her hand, making the young girl rise. “Let’s go.”

Before Debra could protest, the trio moved toward the door and slipped out. They made sure to stay quiet and in the shadows. But they couldn’t help but gawk at the empty house. Breathe the fresh air. Feel the kiss of the wind coming through the open windows.

“I had forgotten it was fall,” Cathy whispered to Ashleigh. A quiet laugh slipped from her lips and was followed by an excited smile.

“The night lures the demons,” Ashleigh slowly took in the room, a great fear in her shaky voice. “They smell the blood within you, the warmth in your chest drawing them from the shadows.”

“Stop your nonsense,” her mother whispered harshly. She then pointed to the stairs. “Now, go check the top floor. When it is clear, we shall follow.”

Ashleigh slowly made her way upstairs. The full moon loomed out the window, its silent siren song drawing her to its light. She looked around cautiously, then bent down near the window. Gazing at the moon, she smiled. It’s soft, gentle rays were comforting.

Whispering, Ashleigh spoke to it, “Dear, brave giant in the sky. Tell me if you see our tormentors. Shine your light on them and out their presence.”

Seeing a quick movement below, she cringed backward. Slamming her body against the wall, she closed her eyes. Were the dark king’s soldiers still here? Her heart raced, every second ticking by at an alarmingly fast speed. Shaking, she cautiously glanced out the window. But there was nothing.

Then, she heard it. A woman’s scream. She turned to the sound, her dress rustling softly. Hearing the soft patter of feet in the hallway, her eyes settled on the doorway. She tried to rush to a hiding place, but was found before she could.

A man ran into the room, his speed inhuman. Slamming her against the wall, he knocked the wind out of the young girl. Ashleigh let out a scream, her whole body radiating with pain. Then, he swooped down and bit her neck, his grip on her viselike. The pain was intense, his teeth ripping at her flesh like a rapid dog.

She had her eyes shut tightly as she tried to push him off. Whimpering, big tears fell, washing their path clean as they slipped down her cheeks. Her head was beginning to spin, her fight leaving her. A few more seconds passed and she blacked out.

When she woke, her tired eyes gazed up at the sky. The moon still stood firm there like a sentinel. She felt wet, sticky. She took a few seconds to rest because her whole body felt heavy and drained. She slowly began to sit up, but then saw what had softened her bed. She quickly shot to her feet.

Holding her hands over her mouth, she stared at the pile of bodies. Some were fresh, others seeming dead for longer. She was now at the dark king’s castle, hordes of his men and their slaves lurking about. She took a quick glance around the area, then saw a man coming.

She quickly hid behind a molding stack of hay and watched him pick up a body. Cathy. The girl’s clothes were covered in wet blood, but she still seemed alive. Ashleigh could feel the incredible urge to protest, but instead, she stayed hidden.

Feeling thick liquid creeping slowly down her neck, Ashleigh turned her attention to the wound there. Quickly ripping a piece of fabric from her skirt, she wrapped it around her neck, using it as a bandage.

“Get to work!” A man came up to her, Ashleigh jumping at the sound of his voice. When she turned to him, he pointed toward a large bonfire near them. The fire’s glow illuminated his face, Ashleigh’s eyes snapping to the large fangs protruding from his lips.

“What do I…have to do?” Choking out the words, Ashleigh’s voice shook violently.

“Make yourself useful. Take out the dead ones and stack them near the fire while I round up the rest of the women. I’ll come back for you.” He pointed a stiff finger at her.

Ashleigh nodded, his words turning her stomach. She watched him leave then turned to the dead. Her breath quickened as she tried to push herself to do this gruesome task. But then she spied another young girl who was being taken advantage of by one of the men. She would rather do this deed than that one.

So, she went to the pile and grabbed the most obvious of dead bodies. They were heavy and dragging them even a few inches was difficult. Closing her eyes, she held tightly to his wrists and started pulling him away from the pile. But after barely moving the body a foot forward, she stopped. She was still very weak, and became winded easily.

This seemed like an impossible task for a woman of her strength. And though one would think this disgusting chore would make her vomit, surprisingly, it didn’t. Fear masked the reaction. Her only thought was of survival. Of doing as her captors said so she could live. She didn’t want to end up like those in this pile.

After taking a breather, she looked down at the dead man. He was covered in blood, the flesh of his neck torn away. His skin was pale, his eyes open and glassed over. Closing her eyes, she pushed her lips together and tried to gather herself. When she had done so, she once again resumed her task.

Swallowing hard, she grabbed him by the wrists, the wet fabric of his coat chilling to the touch. She groaned as she tugged with all her might. She drug him forward three more feet, then took another breather. She repeated the process until she finally reached the fire. A slave boy posted there took over her work silently. As if on auto mode, he took the body and cast it into the fire.

Ashleigh’s eyes widened as she watched the flesh of the corpse melt. Glued on his eyes, the distant stare of the dead chilled her more than this cruel fall air. She couldn’t turn her eyes as she watched him burn, the horrid smell of burnt flesh making her cough.

Ashleigh rubbed her arms, hoping to muster up some warmth. Her bare skin was red and clammy, her whole body feeling like it was being slowly incased in ice. She felt the prick of each inch as she lost feeling of it. Of herself. Of anything. Her mind seemed to be numbing as well.

“Do not stand so idle,” the slave boy whispered to her. “If you are not useful, you will be killed.”

She nodded, then returned to her task. Gazing at the pile of bodies, they became nothing more than objects. She couldn’t think of them as people. As someone’s parents. Siblings. If she grew emotional, she too might be killed.

She had to be useful. She’d do anything to survive now. Anything.

She reached for another body, but halted when a man approached her. The man spoke in a soft tone, but his face was blurred, “Ashleigh. What are you doing here?”

He was dressed better than the others, and she felt a strong connection to him like she knew him, but couldn’t place from where. He had dark hair, the only thing she could make out except for his body shape.

She went to hug him, but he pushed her back.

“No, you mustn’t.” He swallowed hard then looked around sharply.

“Why not?”

“I’m not like you anymore. We cannot interact like that here. It could get both of us in trouble. Only the alphas are allowed to have their choice of the women.”

“All right.” She sent him a fragile smile. “But I knew you would be alive. I
knew
it.”

“Alive?” He bared his teeth, small fangs protruding from his lips. She jumped back, a great fear burning her chest. “I’m not
alive
. They’ve made me one of them.”

“What should I do?” She looked around cautiously then turned back to him.

“I’ll find a way to get you out of here, I promise.” He glanced at a few men that passed them, a great caution in his gaze. “And by siding with them, they’ve given me inhuman powers. Powers that can help me save you. Come with me. I have a plan.”

He motioned for her to follow. He took her to the manor. It was warmer in here, but to her skin, the sudden change in temperature made it burn as if she had walked into the furnace. A fitting way to enter hell.

Her eyes snapped to a man talking to a few other men. He was dressed in fine suiting, his hair the color of the sun—soft, almost white and combed perfectly into a ponytail that fell down his back. He was handsome, this devil.

His alluring green eyes met with her stare curiously, a great evil surrounding this sinfully perfect man.

Her friend whispered to her, “That’s the king. He loves stories and I know how well you tell them. Charm that man with your words, Ashleigh, and he’ll beg you pardon. I know he will.”

“I have to charm
him
?” She shook, a great fear in her voice, “How? I’ve never charmed anyone.”

He glanced at the guards, and when he saw none were looking, he gave her a light kiss on the cheek. “And I promise you, Ashleigh. If you can stick this out and find a way to survive like I have, then together, we’ll find a way to get out of here. I promise you. We won’t be slaves forever.”

She whispered back, “But what if he doesn’t like my stories? What if he kills me instead?”

“He’ll love them. I know he will. Trust me.” He motioned toward a line of girls forming in front of Nicolas, the dark king. “You
have
to do this, Ashleigh. You have to. It’s the only way.”

“All right.” Her eyes settled on the king who was examining a few women. “I’ll try.”

“We’ll come up with a plan and we’ll overthrow him.”

“You think we can defeat him?”

“We can try.” His eyes moved to Nicolas’, the sharp dressed king narrowing his eyes on him. “Now, go.” He then pushed Ashleigh forward. She quickly slipped into the line.

Nicolas held a knife in his hand, the arrogant king waving it as he spoke to one of the girls, “For tonight, I shall spare you.” He motioned for her to go. Then, he approached Ashleigh. “And you? Why should I pardon you?”