Original Sin (3 page)

Last thing, I put my little handheld spade in and a pack of wet wipes. With everything ready, I set off, heading for the woods on the outskirts of town.

Chapter 3: The Hunter, the Hunted

I take a left at the top of the street my apartment building is on, walking away from the centre of town, uphill, heading straight for the wooded area surrounding it.

One of the reasons I like this place is because it has a great backdrop with a vast woodland area. Much bigger than the forest at the back of Nathan’s farm. Nathan would love it here.

As I head out of town the streetlights become fewer, but it doesn’t bother me as I can see just as well in the dark. Another side effect of being a Vârcolac, keen eyesight – well keen is putting it mildly – extraordinary is probably better suited.

When I reach the top of the steep incline, just outside of the woods, I stand for a moment, breathing in the cool crisp evening air. Letting my senses widen; I hear and smell.

These other things inside me just seem to know when there are others around – other ‘beings’. I have to check there’s no one in the forest. I would be surprised if a normal person were here at this time, but I need to make sure there are no supernaturals around.

Nope,g aA all clear.

Making sure my backpack is secured, I walk down the little incline, knowing my way pretty well. I’ve hunted here twice already since I arrived. I tread over the hard mud and broken twigs, cracking them underfoot, bracing myself for the woodland.

The forest seems surprisingly well lit tonight. Glancing up I spy the moon, bright and full, huge in fact. It looks beautiful.

Taking a ten minute leisurely walk, I penetrate deeper into the forest. When I find a good spot, with plenty of roaming woodland creatures, I put the rucksack down beside a tree and retrieve the items I need.

I always hunt in the form I am in now, except with my fangs out. I now know how to protract and retract them as required. I haven’t shifted into my wolf form yet. I have the urge inside me to do so, but I’m not just ready to face that side of myself yet.

And to be honest, I daren’t.

I never got around to asking Nathan, to talk me through how I do it, and I know it might sound stupid, but I’m worried that if I shift while I am on my own, then I might not be able to get back to my human form as I won’t know how to, then I’ll be stuck as a wolf.

With everything I need ready, I begin the hunt.

After I've buried all the little bunnies I just killed, I clean the draining tube and spade with wet wipes, then spruce up myself the same way.

Packing the rucksack, I deposit the mud and bloodstained wipes into the front pocket to dispose of at home. I don’t want to leave any evidence lying around, and I couldn’t litter here anyway, it’s too beautiful a place. I pull the zip closed and stand from the crouched position.

I feel it.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickle, every sense going on high alert.

There’s someone, or
something
here. I stretch my senses out as far as I can. I hear him. He’s light on his feet and is moving toward me – quickly.

A vampire.

Oh God. I’ve never encountered a vampire before. They hate my kind and will hate me even more. Or be curious. Either way it’s not good. I need to get out of here,
now
.

If I know he’s here, then he definitely knows I am.

Slinging the backpack on I sprint through the trees, with one direction in mind. The road. I need to get into population, then get myself the hell out of this town.

Weaving through the trees I jump lithely over fallen bracken. My backpack is bangi I ng heavily against my back. I could do without it but it has everything I need to get me out of here, and quick, so there’s no way I can ditch it.

I’m listening hard. I can hear him moving but can’t pinpoint his exact location.

Keep moving, Alex. Just keep moving.

He jumps out from the thick stand of trees about thirty feet in front of me, skidding me to a halt. My heart whams into my ribcage.

He’s not much bigger than me. Short dark hair and eyes to match. And he looks young. Twenty max. But I also know that even though he might look young and frail he’s probably way stronger and far older than I am.

He raises an eyebrow.

“Now this is interesting,” he says, in a European accent, maybe German, I’m not sure. He tilts his head. “I thought my senses were off for a moment back there. But looky here, I’ve got myself a lady Vârcolac.”

I can’t speak, I’m crippled with fear.

“What to do,” he muses, tapping a finger against his lips. “Do I kill you myself ... or do I have a little fun with you first, then take you to Elijah? I’m sure he’d be
very
interested to meet you.”

I inch a step backwards.

He raises an eyebrow.

“Y-you take me.” My voice stammers. I try to garner control. “And the Originals will come after you – Matthias and Isaiah,” I add their names on hoping it will make some difference.

Okay, it’s bullshit, they have no clue where I am – with very good reason. But it’s the only card I’ve got to play.

He folds his arms across his chest and narrows his gaze.

“Don’t lie to me little girl. If Isaiah or Matthias had their hold on you they would not for one second let you out of their sight, let alone running around the forest late at night hunting animals. And if I didn’t already know that fact, then it would have been the speed up in rate of that pretty little heart of yours. If you’re going to lie honey, lie better. Get control of those human emotions you’re so desperately and pathetically clinging to.”

I need my blade. It’s in the pocket inside the rucksack, with my money and passport. If I could just get my hand in the bag without him noticing, then I might just stand a chance.

Taking another slight step back, I try to put more distance between him and me in the hope that he won’t see as I try to slide my hand up my back. I can feel the zip.loc

Fuck! It’s zipped up. Of course it is; nothing’s ever easy for me. He smiles, quirking his lip. I leave my hand where it is on the zipper.

“So it’s just you and me honey, and boy are we going to have some fun before I take you home to my family,” he says.

Oh God.

I have two options. Fight or run. And that would be fight without my blade as it seems there is no way I can get it without taking my rucksack off, unzipping it, and getting it out. I have a feeling by that point he’d probably be kicking the crap out of me.

And then suddenly out of nowhere I get angry and pissed off.

Severely pissed off.

I’m tired of running. I’m tired in general to be quite honest. I’ve been running since the day I was changed. I’ve lost everything I’ve ever cared about. What else do I have to lose?

Nothing.

So I decide to do one of the stupidest things I’ve quite possibly ever done. I run at him full speed, using every bit of strength I have behind me.

I see the surprise register on his face, before he runs at me too. We crash into each other like a pair of bulldozers.

But he’s the stronger of us two. He slams his hand flat against my chest, taking the wind out of me, knocking me backwards off my feet, and drives me down to the ground with one hand. I feel and hear the bones in my back crack.

Pain shoots up through my chest and my lungs start to burn. My head spins out of control, stars dancing before my eyes.

He’s on top of me now, pinning me. Striving to battle through the agony, I struggle, trying to shift my weight and get out from underneath him, but he’s strong – fuck is he strong – and I’m injured. I can barely move myself, let alone get him off me.

The plastic bottles in my rucksack are crushing beneath me, the impact having already shattered them. The smell of blood is wafting all around, and all I can keep thinking is my picture of Carrie is going to get ruined from the blood leaking out of the bottles.

I shove the thought aside, needing to focus on getting myself out of this. I’m all legs and arms, desperately kicking, hitting, trying anything I can to get free.

He’s calm and collected, like he does this on a regular basis. He probably does.

I need to focus.

Think, Alex.
Think
. What will hurt him? He’s a guy. I know one thing that hurts them.

So going with sheer desperation, that or stupidity, I go for the most sensitive part on a man and just hope it hurts a vampire the same. I clench my fist and punch him hard in the nuts before he even sees it coming.

His eyes go wide, veins splintering into the whites of his evil eyes, mouth tight in a grimace, his hands instantly going to his groin. He groans in pain and rolls off me, dropping to his side.

Not wasting a second, I scramble up onto my knees, then to my feet. Okay, I’m done fighting, now I’m running.

I’m fifty feet and still moving when he tackles me from behind. I feel like I’m being take

Face down in the dirt, I have a flashback of the night I was attacked and turned into this monster. The shock of it loses me my momentum and gives him the advantage. He flips me over onto my back in one easy move, sitting on my chest, he pins my arms by my side with his legs, leaving his arms free for whatever use he wants. And no matter how much I fight beneath him, there’s no give now. It seems he was going easy on me before, now he’s putting real effort in, and I don’t stand a chance.

I start screaming as loud as I can, out of fear and frustration.

The sound grates up out of my throat, my breath giving out on me. I know it won’t achieve anything, no one can hear or help me, but I just can’t do nothing. I could beg, but somehow I don’t think begging is going to save me. And I get the distinct impression he’s not the remorseful sort.

Especially when he laughs, and says, “I love a screamer. Keep it going honey.”

I clamp my mouth shut.

He’s looking down at me with real hunger. I’m surprised my blood would be of any interest to him, but from the look he’s casting over me it seems I’m the very best on offer.

“Honestly, if you’re going to kill me, just hurry up and get on with it because I can’t bear to look at your ugly face a second longer,” I say, through panted breath, my heart pounding painfully against my chest.

He laughs. Putting his hand over his heart, he says, “Ouch! That hurt honey.” A sly grin. “And I never said I was going to kill you. I’m just going to have some fun with you first. You’re a fighter. I like that. It gets me going.”

His eyes drift to my mouth. He lifts his hand to it and runs his finger over my fangs; they came out as soon as I smelled the blood leaking out of my bag.

I bite his finger, hard, but not hard enough to bite it off, unfortunately. I get a sharp taste of his blood in my mouth. It’s odd. Tangy, sharp, but nice. Very different to animal, and something altogether different to human I’m guessing. At least I’m still clean then.

He doesn’t react to the pain. He just laughs again and puts his finger in his mouth, sucking the blood off. Then he removes it, holding it up in front of my face, and I watch in horror as it heals in a matter of seconds.

My heart is hammering in my chest. It hurts, so much. Adrenaline is flooding my body and mind. The word, panicking, just doesn’t even cut it.

“Now, I’ve had Vârcolac before,” he says in an easy tone. “It’s not so bad. It was a man of course. And not anywhere as near pretty as you are.” He runs the tip of his tongue along his top lip. “And well, you honey, you smell as sweet as sugar, and I’m sure you taste just as good.”

Oh God.

My heart leaps into my throat. Every fibre of me going into blind frenzy as I see him release his fangs. The panic quickly rears my body into action. I start fighting for my freedom again, kicking and yelling for help, but he’s unmoving.

He tilts his head back, cricking his neck, like his readying himself for a fight. Then in one swift move he plunges his teeth straight into my neck.

His body tenses around me, clamping down harder, his knees tightening into me, the pain in my chest screaming a silent bellow as his hands pin my shoulders down to the hard ground.

I’m completely immobilised and tied to his will. He’s sucking on my neck, harder and harder.

He’s draining me.

He’s not going to stop. He’s going to bleed me dry. This is it. I’m going to die. I’m actually going to die here in this forest, at the hands of a vampire.