Dark Beauty (Seeker) (4 page)

Chapter 9

The next day Isabelle met Abram and Jared at the training center. With no sign of Ricky the night before, Jared assisted her with her dagger technique. After their conversation had been interrupted by the college girl’s death and the fights they’d gotten into with Houston’s finest, Isabelle had forgotten to ask Abram about Ricky’s ability. She remembered him telling her it was worse than Emanuel’s telekinesis. She made a mental note to talk to him about it after they finished sparring.

 She and Abram took turns role playing. First, Abram chose the role of the Daychild. Isabelle did her best not to laugh during the exercise. He took his role way too seriously. He reached into the trash can, removed the remnants of a stinky old tuna sandwich in a plastic bag, and shoved it in the waistband of his jeans.

 “What are you doing? You smell atrocious,” she said to him, trying her best to throw a punch. The smell kept making her gag.

“I’m a Daychild, they stink.” Abram smiled, raising his upper lip to expose a pair of fake plastic fangs.

“Okay, seriously, I can’t fight you.”

“Why not?” Abram said, his voice distorted by the plastic mouthpiece. “Don’t you wanna kiss me now?”

Isabelle fought back a smile, trying to remain composed. “You’re absolutely ridiculous. I can’t even take you seriously.”

“Remove the teeth and the bag,” Jared said, stepping up to them. “We’re never going to get through this exercise with both of you laughing. Have you forgotten the seriousness of this matter? Tavares has created a new type of vampire, a very strong and difficult opponent.”

 Abram removed the fangs, placed the plastic bag back in the trash can, and mumbled, “You’re no fun.”

“I heard that,” Jared said. “Nothing about this situation is fun, Abram.”

 Abram shot Isabelle a puzzled look, apparently not used to Jared’s all-business tone.

A noise from the back of the warehouse caused all three of them to whip around. The door to the back entrance slammed. Isabelle knew it was the door because it squeaked horribly, definitely in need of some serious grease. The back door was accessed through a small utility room. It remained locked at all times, so whatever or whoever had opened it had to be strong enough to bust the lock.

Abram grabbed his dagger. Jared left them to retrieve the dagger off his desk. Isabelle started forward with Abram only steps behind. Taking light, soundless steps, they flanked the utility room door, ready to ambush the intruder. Jared joined Isabelle on her side of the door. More noise from inside the room let them know the trespasser was still in there. Isabelle wondered if it was Ricky. None of them had felt him—at least she hadn’t. Her Seeker sense was usually pretty accurate.

The door opened. Gripping her dagger and ready to strike, Isabelle waited for the intruder to show his face. As he stepped into the warehouse, Isabelle sprang at him, her blade coming inches from his skull. The man shouted, his blue eyes wide with horror.

“Who the hell are you?” Isabelle said, removing the dagger from his temple. He was lucky she didn’t strike first and question later.

“I—I own this building. Are you robbing me? Take anything you want. It’s been abandoned for years. There’s not much to—” Goosebumps rose up on Isabelle’s arms and her skin started to crawl.
Great, now it decides to kick in.
Before she could react, a cylinder jutted out of the warehouse owner’s stomach. His features twisted into a pain-filled expression, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

Isabelle caught the man before he hit the concrete. Abram helped her get his body to the floor. A metal pipe protruded from his belly. His breath came out in fast, shallow gasps, his face filled with confusion and pain. Behind him, Ricky stepped through the door.

“Don’t bother trying to take me out. You’re surrounded,” he said.

Chapter 10

Isabelle released the warehouse owner’s body and slid her hand behind her back. If they really were surrounded, she’d need more than one blade.

“You’re not going to need that blade, or any, for that matter,” Ricky said.

Isabelle drew in an anxious breath. How did he know her plan? She shifted her focus from Ricky to Abram. Something on Abram’s blank face told her he knew exactly how Ricky knew. It was like Ricky could read her mind.

“So, Seekers,” Ricky said. “As I said. You’re not getting out alive.” He sauntered to the front of the room, taking in the replica of the city. “This really is a nice training facility—alleys and buildings—you’ve worked hard creating such a realistic atmosphere.”

Jared moved away from the door, taking careful steps toward Ricky. Isabelle joined her mentor. Abram positioned himself away from them. Isabelle figured he’d chosen to take a spot near the perimeter in case there were others besides Ricky lurking outside the warehouse.

“What are you going to do, mentor?” Ricky laughed. “There’s nothing you can do that I already don’t know you’re doing.”

Again, Isabelle wondered what he meant by that. Then, it clicked. Ricky’s demonic ability. He
could
read minds. She eyed Abram, angry he hadn’t told her before. This was life-or-death information. If they made it out alive, she had every intention of confronting him.

“You said we’re surrounded,” Jared said. “What makes you think I’m going to believe you and not kill you here on the spot?”

“Him—” Ricky pointed behind them.

A foreboding figure stood in a shaded area of the warehouse, shielded from the sunlight streaming through the small rectangular windows that outlined the building. Isabelle figured he had to be a vampire, otherwise he would have shown himself in the direct sunlight like Ricky. From what she could tell, this man was unusually tall. His hair appeared to be an ashen white, and his skin was just as pale. In the dim light, his eyes glowed red. With his shoulders pinned back and his pale neck extended upward, there was something extremely deadly, yet superior, about his demeanor.  

“Tavares,” Jared said, for the first time appearing nervous and not in control. He always kept his businesslike cool, never spooked by anything. This time it was clearly different. This was the first time he’d met the vampire king.

“The vampire king,” Isabelle said, not intending for the words to actually leave her lips. Sure, she’d heard stories about him, but to meet him in person?
Holy crap!

“You’ve got it,” Ricky said, amusement in his tone.

Confidence built up in Isabelle, and she shot Tavares a hard glare. She refused to show any weakness to any vampire—king or not. “So, to what do we owe the pleasure of your presence, your majesty?” she said mockingly.

Ricky answered, “You killed Emanuel and Paul. There are consequences for taking out the king’s protégés.”

“What, he can’t answer for himself?” she said, vying to wipe the smugness off Ricky’s face. Without thinking, Isabelle went after Ricky. That was it. In the presence of the king or not, this jerk had to go.

Ricky crouched into a ready stance. Isabelle ignored his motion, shoving one dagger back into her boot so she could fight and clutching the other in her palm. She sprinted into a flying sidekick. He twisted out of the impact of her foot to his chest. “You can’t fight me, little Seeker. I know everything you’re going to do before you do it.”

Isabelle continued after him, punching and kicking. Each time she attempted to make contact, he blocked or dodged her. She needed to figure out a distraction to keep him from reading her thoughts. She only needed a second. Abram and Jared hung back, letting her take on the Daychild. If there were more around the warehouse, they’d have to be on guard for any others who might decide to attack. Jared was closest to Tavares, still keeping his eye on the vampire king, although she doubted Tavares would move out of his shaded position next to the wall.

Abram broke his stance next to the outer wall and darted toward them. Ricky switched his focus to Abram for a split second.
This is my chance.
For the quick moment he’d glanced over to Abram, she had the opportunity to strike him before he read her mind. She landed a roundhouse kick to Ricky’s head. He stumbled back in a daze. Isabelle jumped on him again, punching and kicking him. A fury burst through her. She became consumed by a rage that she somehow felt was associated with Clarissa’s death. Of course, she had never known Clarissa, but she felt connected to her in a way. They were both new Seekers who had never expected to be up against vampire-demon hybrids.

Sweeping his legs out from under him, Isabelle threw her leg over his body and straddled him. His dead black eyes stared at her one last time and a smirk formed on his face. Then she shoved the dagger through his skull. Isabelle shot up and stepped away from Ricky’s body. Within moments, no trace of him remained.

Jared’s boots pounded across the pavement with no need for stealth. Isabelle knew Jared’s thoughts, and by the look on Abram’s face, so did he.

At full sprint, Jared barreled into the vampire king, his fingers wrapping around Tavares’s throat. Tavares didn’t move. Instead, he took Jared’s abuse, displaying a cocky smirk as Jared threw punches, barely registering the blows.

Jared left the king for only a moment, long enough to break off a splintered wooden chair leg to use as a stake, only prepared for a Daychild. The king remained motionless and amused. Isabelle tried to figure out what the king thought was so funny. It wasn’t like he was even trying to protect himself.
Why won’t he protect himself?
Isabelle realized Ricky was right. The only reason the king would remain so calm in the face of death was if the warehouse
was
surrounded, or if he had a dangerous ace up his sleeve.

Isabelle called out to Jared, but it was too late.

A Daychild whirled in, a stream of blond highlights blowing by them. She’d never witnessed anyone – Seeker, vampire, or Daychild with that level of speed. By the way Abram’s eyes widened, registering astonishment, Isabelle knew he felt the same.

Just as Jared aimed and struck, the Daychild blocked the stake from lodging into the king’s heart. The Daychild’s black eyes locked on Jared. Isabelle strode forward, ready to assist her mentor. She went for the extremely good-looking blond Daychild. With his medium-length golden waves and highlights, the teenager was lean and tall, obviously handsome before he had been taken over by a fallen angel and then transformed into an even more dangerous monster.

Her kick didn’t faze him. The Daychild backhanded her, sending her reeling into Abram, who had come up behind her. Abram steadied her and jabbed at the Daychild, who blocked each punch. The Daychild bobbed and weaved with effortless motion. Hand-to-hand combat wasn’t going to defeat him. Isabelle scanned the room, looking for a weapon to slow him down.

A broken chair was tipped over on the floor, the wood splintered into jagged pieces. Searching more of the space, she spotted the row of paint cans on the windowsill that the telekinetic Daychild had used against Jared the day before. Abram and Jared’s moves became more unfocused and lethargic. They were getting tired. Realizing she was running out of time, Isabelle decided to go with the paint cans. She sprinted across the warehouse and scooped a can off the sill. Full of dense paint, with enough momentum, it would knock anyone off balance, Daychild or not. Maybe then Abram and Jared could gain a window of opportunity to make contact—when Isabelle would be right there to impale him with her dagger. She looped the handle around her palm and flung the paint can forward, sending it whirling in the Daychild’s direction. She had great aim, so her only worry was whether he’d block it, or even worse, catch it and use it as a weapon against Jared and Abram.

The can spiraled forward and smacked Mr. Gorgeous in the temple, stunning him for only a second. That was all it took for Abram to kick him in the gut. Caught off guard, the Daychild stumbled back into his Maker.

The king, no longer wearing a cocky smirk, looped his pale arm through the Daychild’s. His gruff, deep voice echoed throughout the warehouse. “Seekers, don’t think you’ve won. My new race will come at you with more ferocity than the vampire race ever could. Be prepared for a war.” 

Isabelle blinked, and the king and his protégé vanished. She wasn’t sure exactly how they’d gotten away, but with the Daychild’s speed, they could have gone through any exit. Now that she’d witnessed so many demonic abilities, she couldn’t rule anything out.

Jared and Abram collapsed from exhaustion. They’d put up a good fight against the Daychild, even if their efforts didn’t pay off. Jared finally stood up and offered Abram a hand. Abram used Jared’s strong arm to pull himself back to his feet, both guys sweating and breathing heavily.

“What do we do now?” Isabelle said.

Jared crossed the room in slow, uneasy steps and threw his dagger onto his desk, the metal on metal clanging together, sending a loud echo through the building. “We wait for them to return.”

“Who knows when that will be?” Isabelle said, joining her mentor.

 “We have no other choice. The king will show himself again when he’s ready. Luckily, we’ve taken out a lot of his small army. It’s going to take him awhile to replenish his new race.” He expelled a relieved breath. “It looks like we’re back to primarily fighting the race we’ve been born to hunt—vampires.”

Abram fell back into one of the chairs, exhausted after the fight. “They’ve already assigned the Seeker in my city a new mentor. After having my Seeker die during my mentor training, I don’t think I’m ready to take on the job yet.”

“What are you saying?” Isabelle took a seat next to him.

“I’m saying I’ll stay here. Learn from Jared and fight with you.” He glanced up for Jared’s response. “If that’s okay with you.”

“I’ll have to run it by the Chapter, but I think that’d be okay.” His poker face relaxed, and for the first time in a long time, a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Welcome to the team.”