Heart of the Dead: Vampire Superheroes (Perpetual Creatures Book 1) (25 page)

Jerusa could be happy here, roaming these woods, or others more perilous. Just her and Alicia and no one else, roaming, with freedom and impunity, the dark places of the world where men of cruelty and power feared to tread. But such liberty was an illusion, as it had been her whole life.

Yes, she had been changed by the vampire spirit, fashioned anew with health and strength and longevity of life, but that didn’t mean she was free. It merely meant her shackles were heavier, thicker, more constrictive. Before, she had been bound by her physical health and her mother’s over-burdensome love. Now, the sun was her prison. Soon, the blood-thirst would be her chains. And most likely, no matter what she did, the law of the Stewards would be her condemnation.

Alicia materialized in the distance and Jerusa gave a cry of relief. She ran for Alicia, leaving the group behind, startled, and in a press to follow. As Jerusa neared Alicia, the ghost vanished only to rematerialize, moments later, several hundred yards away.

Jerusa spotted Alicia through the thick of the forest, glowing like the flicker of witch’s fire. None of the spirits that had ever visited Jerusa had glowed in the dark as Alicia did now. She wondered, in passing, if this was due to her new vampiric eyes or the odd change that seemed to have taken place in Alicia.

Just as Jerusa caught up with Alicia the second time, the ghost vanished again, reappearing once again in the distance. This happened several times more, and each time Jerusa pushed harder, ran faster to try and catch her ghost friend. She ignored the calls of her companions, gave up all pretense of stealth, snapping over small trees, tearing through the underbrush like a tornado on two legs. What a frightful sight she must have been.

A strange combination of scents hit her. The smell of a smoldering fire and death filled the world around her.

At last, Alicia held her ground and allowed Jerusa to catch up. She slid to a stop in a tiny twenty-foot circle where the vegetation was pressed flat. Jerusa stood bent over, hands on knees, trying to catch her breath.

A few tiny coals in a diminished campfire sent up wisp of smoke pleading to the heavens for help. Slivers of shiny yellow fabric and webs of cotton down were scattered about. Sitting up against a tree, still in his shredded yellow sleeping bag, was a man. He seemed as though he were awaiting company, a gentle soul to come share the warmth of his fire and a sip from the bottle of cheap wine he still clutched in his hand. Jerusa imagined that, in a better circumstance, the man would have had a great and cheerful smile, though now she would never know.

The man’s head was missing.

Chapter Twenty

T
o say that the man sitting against the tree was missing his head was a bit misleading. It was clear from the wound that it had been separated from his body with great speed and force, but it wasn’t actually missing. It had been obliterated.

The creature that took it had peeled the man’s head open to get to the brain inside, leaving bits of skull and flesh scattered about like discarded melon rind. From the trail of remains, it looked as though Kole had circled the body almost aimlessly as he gobbled his gray-matter treat.

Jerusa turned away, nauseated by the grim spectacle. Shufah ran into the tiny beaten circle of grass. The others came darting up behind her, and it wasn’t until just then that Jerusa realized just how much faster she had been running than all the others.

Shufah had admitted that she had never witnessed a fledgling quite like her, and Jerusa was beginning to get a sense of what she meant. Her strength outmatched Foster’s, and that in itself was impressive. Foster was her fledgling twin, born the same night — and from the ancient and powerful blood of Shufah — even so, he was no match for her. She wasn’t sure how old Taos was, but if she had to guess, she’d say more than a few centuries. Yet, when they had their little battle back at the house, she would have overtaken him had the fight not been stopped. Though Taos would never admit to it, the fear she had seen in his eyes told her that he had been on the verge of fleeing.

But then there was Shufah and Suhail, the beautiful twins of untold years. It was clear that they were millennia old, but just how many Jerusa was afraid to think about. Surely her speed and strength didn’t outmatch theirs. Perhaps they had stayed back with the younger vampires for fear of being separated.

But if not …

Jerusa shuddered at the thought. If she truly held this much power now, what would she become if permitted to live a thousand years? Could she use this to her advantage to sway the minds of the Stewards? Would they see her as an asset, or a threat?

Jerusa didn’t want to know those answers.

“What is the matter with you?” Shufah asked, circling around to stand before Jerusa. “Have you gone mad? What if Kole had still been here?”

“I was following Alicia.” Though she wanted to look at the ground in shame, Jerusa forced her eyes to stay fastened to Shufah’s. “I knew that I would be safe. She would never lead me into harm.”

“Take it from me, child,” Shufah said. “A restless spirit is a jealous and bitter entity, no matter what they lead you to believe. Do not put all of your faith in the dead. They have their own motives that the living can never understand.”

“Alicia is not like that,” Jerusa said. Her voice quivered, as much from anger as from fear. “She’s not like the rest. She’s not just my friend, she’s like my sister.” Jerusa caught Alicia’s face from the corner of her eye. The ghost’s mouth pressed tight, her brows furrowed. She seemed touched by Jerusa’s words.

Shufah’s eyes flickered to the top of the scar poking out of Jerusa’s shirt collar. “Still, you need to learn to reign in your emotions, for they are the master of your powers. You are like a toddler behind the wheel of a car: dangerous, unruly, and irresponsible with the force you wield in your hands. Kole is gaining strength. With each brain, he regains a little more cognitive awareness. He is still but an animal. But your blood, your brain, would give him a large leap forward. Trust me, a mindless savage is a kitten compared to a self-aware savage. Be careful from now on, if not for your own sake, then for ours.”

Shufah sure did have a grasp on the sword of guilt. Jerusa wondered if Shufah had ever spent any time with her mother, for they both had the technique down pat.

A strange thought occurred to Jerusa. Had Shufah ever been a mother herself when she had still been mortal? Could she be a mother now? It was obvious that she and Foster were lovers. One could argue they were husband and wife, bound in the eternal vow of blood. Was sex an option for vampires? An image of Foster and Shufah tried to invade her thoughts, but Jerusa shut the doors of her mind, denying it access. Jerusa still felt the same way about men — to be honest, it seemed to have become worse. Thad, Silvanus, Suhail and even the harsh and hateful Taos — she found them all attractive. If she took a husband, could she someday give birth to a child?

“What is it?” Shufah asked, noticing the puzzled look on Jerusa’s face.

Jerusa’s cheeks blushed again. Shufah was right. Jerusa did need to get ahold of her emotions, if for no other reason than to not be an open book to anyone gazing upon her.

“Nothing,” Jerusa said. “Nothing important.”

Shufah looked down on the headless corpse. “This body is fresh. Kole is not long from here. Let’s spread out and search for his trail.”

The other vampires dispersed into the forest, but Jerusa stayed near the remains of the campfire. Thad stayed, as well, drawing close to her as his human eyes scanned the darkness in vain. His scent was intoxicating. The thundering of his heart, the roar of his rushing blood, was a maddening chorus.

She wanted to snatch him up, carry him off to someplace far from here, hide him where this strange world of the undead could no longer trouble him. Right now, though, she’d settle for just holding his hand.

Jerusa reached out to take hold of his fingers, but at that moment, a noise rattled in the underbrush and Thad turned, startled. Having missed its target, Jerusa’s hand dropped to her side in defeat. Though the night was too dark for Thad to see her awkward attempts to hold his hand, Jerusa felt foolish nonetheless.

“What was that sound? Did you hear it?”

She stifled a laugh. He had no idea just how well she did hear it. In fact, if she concentrated, she could not only pick out the creature’s high pitched-breathing but also the machinegun firing of its heart.

“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “It’s only a raccoon.”

“Really? How can you tell?”

“I can see it. Smell it. Hear it. Take your pick.”

“That’s amazing.” He cleared his throat as he contemplated his next question. “Do you like being a vampire? I mean, you’ve got to, right? To be so fast and strong. It’s like being a real-life superhero.”

“I don’t know,” Jerusa said. “I feel like I’m dreaming and I can’t wake up. The world around me has changed, but then again, it hasn’t. It’s like looking at the same black-and-white photograph your whole life and then, one day, you glance at it and it’s in color. It’s still the same picture, but now you see so much more. Does that make sense?”

Thad shook his head. “No. Not really. Sorry. I guess I’ll get to see for myself someday.”

“Do you want to be turned?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I sure don’t want to be locked up in one of those prison towns for the infected.”

This thought excited her more than she realized it would. If Thad became a vampire, she wouldn’t have to be alone. Foster and Shufah might stay with her for a while, but they were like a newlywed couple whose honeymoon had been disrupted. Eventually, they would seek to be alone. It was clear that Taos had no love for her, and Jerusa didn’t trust Suhail. But if Thad were changed, they could spend eternity traveling the world together, immortal companions.

It was a lovely fantasy, but not one likely to come to fruition. Even if she and Thad survived the inevitable battle with Kole, they still had the Stewards to deal with. Jerusa was confident that Thad would be found pleasing in their sights. But she harbored no such hope for herself. The best she could hope for was the life of a fugitive.

Thad seemed to sense her sadness for he drew close to her, and even though he knew it was dangerous, he draped his arm over her shoulder. She wanted to lean her head against his chest. She wished that he would bend down and kiss her. But this would have to do. She didn’t have any business being this close to him in the first place. She didn’t have a desire to feed, but who knew when that would come? And when the thirst did show its face, would it arrive in a slow, trickling stream or would it overtake her in a deluge of murderous desire?

Eighteen years of being on a first-name basis with death had given Jerusa an untainted appreciation for life. At no time, even at her lowest point, had she ever considered suicide. Still, Jerusa knew that if she were to kill Thad while in the throes of uncontrolled bloodlust that she could never forgive herself. One day of that guilt would be unbearable. An eternity of days would be torture. If she killed Thad, she would build a fire hotter than the sun and run screaming into its embracing flames.

Jerusa caught movement in her peripherals. Alicia stood near the headless corpse, but her attention was focused elsewhere. The ghost stood straight, staring at the emptiness before her. Her hand darted about in animated little gestures, and though she was as silent as ever, she seemed to be talking to someone.

Jerusa broke from Thad’s embrace and approached Alicia.

Thad stood his ground, unwilling to draw closer to the headless corpse. “What’s wrong?”

“Alicia is acting strange.”

Hearing her name, the ghost girl turned.

“What are you doing?” Jerusa asked Alicia. “Are you talking to someone?”

A puzzled look furrowed Alicia’s brow and puckered her lips. She gave a slow nod.

“Who are you talking to?”

Alicia pointed to the empty space in front of her.

“Is someone there? I don’t see anyone.”

Alicia’s head tilted as though her confusion was throwing her off balance. She pointed down at the headless corpse, then to the empty space before her.

“You’re talking to him?”

Alicia nodded. She touched her eyes, pointed at Jerusa then shrugged.

“No. I can’t see him.”

The corners of Alicia’s mouth dropped and she regarded Jerusa with an unsure glance. She whispered something over her shoulder to the unseen spirit of the dead man, who apparently stood by her side.

“What’s going on?” Thad asked.

“Shufah was right,” Jerusa said. “I can’t see ghosts anymore.” She pointed at the headless corpse. “Alicia is talking to his spirit, but I can’t see him.”

“Curious,” Shufah said, startling both Jerusa and Thad. “Why is it you can still see Alicia, but not any of the others, do you suppose?”

Jerusa had a theory, the same one that she had held for two years as to why Alicia was different than other ghosts, and it seemed to apply just as well to this situation. Jerusa had never spoken of her theory to anyone, not even Foster, and she didn’t feel like telling it to Shufah now. Jerusa couldn’t explain why, exactly. Shufah had been nothing but kind to her, a soft and gentle mother, ever since Jerusa had stumbled into becoming a vampire. Perhaps it was the lingering sting of her comment about not trusting Alicia. Or maybe it was the yearning Jerusa saw in her eyes … yearning and a bit of jealousy. But more than any of that, it was Taos’s whispered warning of an enemy other than himself that closed her mouth.

Taos wasn’t the type to whisper, so that meant he was afraid of being overheard. Suhail and Shufah were the only two vampires in the group that he feared. Jerusa’s suspicions were leaning toward Suhail with his passive aggressive glances, pouting demeanor, and eagerness to find Silvanus. But she couldn’t rule out Shufah.

Jerusa had been taken with Shufah right from the start, but charisma often hid a dark heart. She couldn’t assume that just because Foster had always wished the best for her that his lover would do so as well.

She felt dizzy and mentally exhausted. The loneliness of her predicament weighed upon her like fathoms of water. One would think that she would be used to it by now, being the outcast that is, but loneliness is never a thing you gained a tolerance for. It accumulated in your blood, like mercury or arsenic, weakening your system until there was no hope of survival. Loneliness was the cruelest of poisons.