At the sound of a loud crash, Azza spun around.
Two blocks away, Jak’s car had smashed into a light pole in the intersection. A pack of vampires surrounded his vehicle. Fuck. Roach and Koz had been the distraction, the means of getting her away from the midnight meal.
Azza ran toward the vehicle, legs pumping with every ounce of her vampire strength.
The vampires attacked the car, smashing windows and yanking open the doors. The interior of the vehicle lit up in a purplish-blue light. The vampires screamed and jumped away from the vehicle. Jak was using the UV wand to defend himself.
Azza yelled at the top of her lungs. “Stay in the light, Jak!”
A vampire spun around and charged Azza, another ex-street thug who hung out with Roach. She met his charge with both feet, hitting him square in the chest. He slammed into the pavement.
Flashes of purplish-blue light cut into the darkness. Jak was out of the car, swinging the wand and fighting off the vampires. She ran toward Jak, but Roach’s friend didn’t slink off. Fangs bared, he came after her.
She stood her ground, taking the impact, then grabbed his head and slashed her pointed nails across his neck. Azza left him where he fell.
Azza ran, flat out. She was almost there. Together, she and Jak had a chance.
A vampire lunged at Jak, kicking the wand out of his hand. The UV wand flew up, then hit the pavement and bounced toward Azza. The vampires lunged at Jak, taking him down.
Rage burning through Azza, she snatched up the wand and did something she’d never imagined she’d do, burn vampires with a DSA weapon. She felt no mercy when the vampires screamed. Their burning flesh meant nothing. She was ready to kill or die for the defenseless human she loved.
Burned, the vampires fled, leaving Jak lying in the street in a pool of blood. His shirt was shredded, hanging off his bleeding shoulders. His neck, shoulders and wrists were slashed open. The vampires had torn into him, sucking up his blood in a feeding frenzy.
She touched his chest. The faint, irregular beat of his heart brought a sob deep from inside her chest. She hadn’t felt this kind of pain since her father had looked at her with disgust and told her to never darken his door again.
Again, she was losing what she loved. Jak was bleeding out, dying. “Jak. Jak.”
His eyes fluttered open. “Azza.”
“Don’t move, Jak. You’ve been bitten.”
He might have a chance if he received a transfusion, but ambulances didn’t come to this part of town without a full DSA escort. If she left him here the pack of vampires would return and drain him dry. If he died here in the street, he’d turn.
Jak’s pager went off, the alarm startling Azza.
“The raid. Run, Azza.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
He gripped her arm. “You can’t stay.”
Jak was right. They had to make it together or go down together.
God, help me
. Azza hadn’t prayed in decades, but she did now. She prayed that she was making the right choice and that Jak wouldn’t hate her. “Forgive me, Jak.”
Azza sank her fangs into the wound in Jak’s neck, drinking his blood. The sweet-saltiness of his blood coursed through her, the heat and richness near orgasmic.
She’d forgotten how it felt to drink, to replenish, to surge with renewed strength. She drank until Jak’s heart seized and stilled.
Azza lifted her head and licked Jak’s blood off her lips. Then she kissed his still lips. “I love you, Jak.” She picked him up, and, holding him against her chest, Azza ran toward the abandoned apartment and the safety of the tunnel. He was hers now.
Just as she reached the boarded-up apartment building, UV lights pierced the sky in both directions. The raid was on and the DSA was coming.
Azza kicked in the boarded-up doorway and stepped inside. She hustled down a flight of stairs to the garage and ran into Reeni.
Her friend was dressed in her vamp party outfit. “Help me.”
“Is that Jak? I smell blood.”
“Roach and his friends got to him. I’m taking him inside.”
“He reeks of blood,” Reeni said. “His scent will cause a panic.”
Azza laid Jak down, stripped off his bloody clothing and tossed it aside. She picked him up, threw him over her shoulder.
“He’s dead, isn’t he?”
Azza headed for the tunnel. “I drained him. He was bleeding to death. I couldn’t leave him outside, alone.”
“I’m sorry, Azza.”
“Close the door. The DSA knows about the tunnel. They’re going to blow it up tonight and use the raid on the rave as a cover.”
Reeni secured the door. “We’ll be trapped inside.”
“That’s their intent. Take point.”
Reeni took off down the tunnel. Strengthened by Jak’s blood and fueled by fear, Azza followed. They raced along the corridor and up two flights of stairs, pounded down the hallway to the apartment they’d shared for three years.
Azza lowered Jak into the shower stall and Reeni turned on the water. Azza washed Jak from head to toe, dried him off and carried him to her bed.
He’d sleep for days, then rise from the transforming trance she’d inflicted upon him by draining his heart of blood. The eternity factor was no longer an issue, but would Jak still love her when he realized what he’d become?
* * *
Jak opened his eyes. The room was strange, but the face was familiar. “Azza. You’re okay?”
“I’m good, Jak. How do you feel?”
He felt different, but couldn’t put his finger on what had changed. He was naked and cold. He raised his arm, noting how heavy it felt. His tan had vanished, his skin was pale. “What’s wrong? Have I been ill?”
Azza touched his cheek, her fingertips soft and cool. She looked different. Her hair was pulled back from her face and she wore purple scrubs. The color complemented her violet eyes.
Jak looked around. He was lying on a smooth wooden platform in a windowless room. An identical platform stood in the opposite corner. Pictures of sundrenched landscapes were hung on pale green walls. Two chests of drawers were linked by a central desk. A flat-screen TV sat on the desk. “Where am I?”
She took his hand. “In my bedroom.”
Her words sliced through him, their implication too frightening to accept. “Azza, what happened?”
Concern clouded her eyes. “What do you remember?”
He searched his memory. Images of vampires with red eyes and long fangs came to mind. He’d fought them. He recalled the pain when their fangs had torn into his flesh. Then Azza was with him and everything was hazy.
Jak tried to sit up, but he felt so heavy. “Tell me where I am. I want the truth.”
“You’re in my bedroom, in the apartment I share with Reeni. You’re in the Cemetery.”
He lifted his head. His skin was white. “I’m like you?”
“The vampires got to you. You were bleeding to death. I couldn’t bear to lose you, Jak.”
Another memory came, the sounding of his pager. “The DSA? The raid was on?”
“I saw the lights. They were coming.”
“Did they destroy the tunnel?”
Azza nodded. “They blew it up. We’re trapped inside.”
“You drained me? Turned me?”
“I’m sorry, Jak. You were dying. I had to make a choice.”
He’d told her to run, to save herself. Instead, she’d chosen eternity over death. He squeezed her hand. “I love you, Azza.”
She leaned down and kissed him. “I love you, Jak.”
“Help me up so I can hold you.”
Azza grasped his shoulders and pulled him into a sitting position.
“Why am I so heavy?”
“You’ve transformed. When you’ve fed, you’ll feel better.”
Jak looked her in the eyes. “You mean…”
“Yes, but you’ll get used to it.”
Jak stood back and looked over the room. The smell of fresh paint clung to his nostrils. He’d chosen a pale blue to serve as a backdrop for Azza’s pen and ink sketches. Most were of him. In a city without mirrors the word about Azza’s work spread quickly.
An old one who had lost his portrait during the forced move to the Cemetery had hired her, providing the needed supplies. She’d given up her job at the nutrition bank and was painting for a living.
Jak had started his own small company by accident. One night he climbed onto the massive dark dome of tinted UV glass that covered the central atrium of the Cemetery and washed off the years of grime that obscured the star-studded sky.
His efforts had pleased the vampires and the loosely knit governing body of the Cemetery came together and hired him on a permanent basis. As soon as the sun went down, Jak went to work and each night residents of the Cemetery gathered in the courtyard, socializing, listening to the vampire chorus that had recently formed while watching the silent march of the moon and stars across the sky.
Tomorrow night a classical quintet would play and he’d heard a group of teenagers had started a rock band. Instead of being bitter about the change in his life, Jak had embraced the future, accepting the fact that he’d never age and his body and face would remain frozen for eternity.
He heard Azza’s footfalls, recognized the cadence of her walk and the quickening of her step as she approached their apartment. She opened the door and rushed into his arms. She gasped, her gaze skating over the walls. He’d told her he was painting the apartment, but hadn’t told her about framing her sketches.
“You hung them?”
Life wasn’t easy in the Cemetery and there were times when they had to bare their fangs and were forced to stand and fight, but art and music brought the vampires together. Things were improving slowly, but the vampires had centuries to work on it.
Jak hugged her. “I thought the subject was handsome.”
She smiled and cupped his face. “The
subject
is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
“The new tunnel is almost finished.” The vampires had started digging the day after the old tunnel was blown. Winter had come and gone and by summer the vampires would have access to the human zone. “Sure you won’t throw me over for a hot-blooded hunk?”
“There’s nothing out there for me. You’re all I’ll ever need.”
Jak kissed her. All he’d ever wanted was a decent job, a home and someone to love. He had it all, for eternity.
A multi-published author of contemporary and futuristic sensual romance, B.J. McCall is a West Virginia native now residing in Northern California. Thanks to an older sister who was a librarian, reading became B.J.’s favorite pastime. B.J.’s idea of the perfect way to spend a rainy afternoon or a day at the beach is reading a romance novel.
The phrase “Do what you love,” applies to B.J. -- she loves to write and each story is special. She hopes her readers will enjoy each and every one of them. Visit her website at
BJMcCall.com
.
Find more titles by B.J. at
changelingpress.com/author.php?uid=53
.