Daylight - Book 1 (No Death for the Wicked) (3 page)

BOOK: Daylight - Book 1 (No Death for the Wicked)
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Her soul tips the scale of impurity and I bask in the faithless. I raise my hand and within a pulse pounding second, I'm unclothed. Slamming her against the wall I sink myself deep inside her. Thrust after mind-numbing thrust, I study her mortified face, removing my mouth from her blacken lifeless lips and hiss in her ear, “Is this what you wanted? This is your last
thought before you die?” Motionless, the only response I receive is the gasping, airless end of her life.  I savor the last throbbing beat of her heart, watch her skin become drawn and haggard. Sensing her body temperature plummeting, I withdraw placing my grisly clawed hand against her cold cheek. Once I touch her, she's nothing more than a bag of bones. I lean down, scooping her up in my arms and toss the pasty corpse into the water. I sneer as the body floats idly down, “It's unfashionable to be obsessed with death, sweetheart.” Arranging my hood back, concealing my face, I step out into the night. 

 

Mattie

 

My relentless fist bangs the bathroom door, “Hey! What the hell, did you pass out in there?!” I huff out an annoyed sigh and finally head outside. I actually had a glimmer of hope thinking that Graham would grant us his gorgeous presence at some point, but he never came back.  The dull thud from my boots echoes with each step I take as I traipse around the porch. I need to find a distraction. My amplifying pissed off mood will get me in trouble if I don't adjust my outlook on things. I'm hungry, the pangs in my stomach make me restless, and the onset of a splitting headache doesn't assist with my mood. I duck under a stretch of fake, stringy cobwebs and a hanging corpse encased with fabricated webs. I catch a guy adorning a Thor costume with a cigarette in hand, I snicker at the image and hide my cheesy grin. “Can you spare a smoke?” 

He gives me a skeptical, hard look for a moment and hands me one of the coffin nails before he strides away. “THANK YOU! Fucker,” I yell, pacing with a smoke but no light, what good is it to me now? I have no idea where Sammie is, probably getting lucky with a guy or two. I lean against the banister, holding the cigarette between my fingers, brooding over my nagging dependency. When a shiny expensive Dupont lighter wavers in front of my cigarette and I glance up to meet Graham's unearthly blue eyes.

“You know these will kill you?” He mentions as I suck the flames through the cigarette, lighting it.

“I doubt it,” I comment back as he releases the lighter and the iridescent red flame vanishes. I drag the smoke directly into my lungs and revel in the small nicotine muse. I can sense him analyz
ing me, my skin burns but in a sensual way while his eyes scan seductively over me. I pucker my lips and blow out a thin stream of smoke while I take in the sight of him.

“Thanks, you don't know how bad I need this,” raising the cigarette up. He circuits slowly around me like it's a stroll in a park, while I try not to seem high-strung with him so damn close.

Eventually, he props himself along the railing and asks, “So, Mattie, tell me what's the story on your costume tonight?” 

“No story,” is my brassy comeback.

“No offense, but isn't this your usual attire, the dark, mysterious girl theme.”

“I'm just being me. I don't really get into the whole costume thing.” I reach over with my other hand and run the tip of my finger on his scythe blade, splicing my skin open. Retracting my finger back, I lick the blood off. “And your story? The Grim Reaper, really? Please do tell, I'm curious.” Easing myself back, I take another casual drag and flick the ashes over the edge of the banister. Graham focuses solely on my lips, making me feel slightly self conscious. He shrugs and vanquishes the space between us
while holding a wicked smile. That actually has me wet in all the right places.

“It's the only thing I had in my closet. So, when did you pick up smoking?”

“I have this oral fixation and sometimes, simply put, it's hard to ignore.” Pitching the last remnants of my lit cigarette down, I quickly mash my boot down, extinguishing it out. My body instantly becomes alert and completely stimulated at his touch. He grips my chin and silently persuades me to look up at him. “I know a cure for your fixation, come here...”

Our lips unite and I have no idea if I'm drowning or swimming for my life, he explores every inch of my mouth with such skill. My bearings for control are shredded, and ripped away. My body screams more and my craving takes over as my fangs extend.  I drag my fine-tipped fang across his lower lip, puncturing the delicate skin.  The blood trickles out and I suck hard on his lip.  When the taste hits my mouth I know the blood is bad, corrupt,
and too vile even for me. I break apart from him and flash back wiping the back of my hand across my lips. “You...  you really are Death.”

“And you, Mattie,
you are a Vampire.” Graham counters with an intrigued realization.  “That's why you didn't die.”

I give him a coy grin and add, “Don't you know, there's no death for the wicked.”

Chapter One

 

One year later

 

The Midnight Train

 

I crumple my hand around a fist full of twenties and wad them back into my skinny jeans. I flick the shade back with my two fingers and watch the stars string along the predawn sky. Seventy bucks for a midnight train ride out of the
wasteland
is not a bad deal at all. I'm leaving my old town, my old fucked up life back in the north and heading south, to a vamp town. I can just see my mom, well, not my real mom, but in the vampire world, she is the one who changed me, so by default, she is
'mother dearest'
.  I can just imagine her raging and ranting right about now. Waking up from her blood drunken stupor and calling out for me.  Not this time, I am so gone. 

She’
ll be way better off without me anyway.  I already know that I'm better off without her and all her constant yelling, bitching, and manipulating ways.  Plus, she drives like shit.  That damn car of hers probably wouldn't even make it out of the driveway.  Once Fred, Bob,
or
maybe it was Hank, I can’t seem to keep them straight anymore. They are all the same, these sleaze-ball type men she convinces to work on that car for her, if she, which is a big ‘
if’
she gets that old hunk of metal running she just might
attempt
to search for me. I highly doubt it though, one whiff of a man’s scent, she just can't resist, she'll bleed them dry. I made sure she was stocked with bags of blood. Which is one thing I won't miss doing anymore, stealing from the local blood banks. Always an added bonus though, I can see it now, writing that out as a special talent on a job application.
Local embezzler of blood
.  

The word
Addiction
is really what this is all about - a sweet ride for a short term effect on the victim, and quenching the need to feed for the vamp, which is only the beginning of a vicious cycle. The copses stack and the yard turns out to be a cramped up cemetery. The very word churns my stomach with bitterness. My jaw clenches and my lips curl in disgust.
Mother dearest
is definitely a hallmark card for junkies and the only thing I’ve learned is
how I do not want to end up like her
. I tuck my legs underneath me as I rest my head on the window. The skyline wavers with the descent of day. My still cold heart aches none the less, she was right about one thing, leaving meant I wouldn't see the light of day. Bitch.

Months ago, I did however overhear her contacting someone for a lineup on a particular serum, called
Daylight
. Luckily, I wrote it down including the place she called, Solace. I stashed the note for future reference. Like a good daughter I ate my Wheaties and drank my daily dose of daylight, never really knowing what it was before. I went to school, hung out with friends, and partied my ass off every chance I got. The one girl I don't think I'll ever forget anytime soon is Sammie, just before I left she swears she placed a curse on half the town. I didn't stay long enough to find out what exactly she did and I wasn't going to ask. She fully believes she's a witch, and who am I to question it?

Tired of the scenery, I decided to raise the stakes (
not literally
) on my life and clickety-clack out of that lame ole town. Solace, from what I hear, is an all out vamp town, a place to get your hands on anything you could want, a paradise, and a place to alleviate all your misfortunes. Humans populate there too, which makes it perfect. A unique coexistence, only they are completely blind to our kind.

I stretch out my legs in the Sleeper
compartment of the train, and start to put up my things, MP3 player, earbuds, and stack them inside my bag full of cash. We should be arriving at the station soon. The train whistle blows broadcasts the ending of my midnight trip.

I don't ever remember feeling this stoked before, not even before Graham's party.  I feel the train shift and I lean slightly forward as it starts slowing down.  The first blush of light is not in sight yet, but I can feel the presence of daylight, and it's not that far away.  The train rolls into the station that is covered with concrete and florescent lighting.  Many solemn faces flash by my window as they wait for the train to stop, allowing me to get out, ending my day
as they board and beginning theirs.

I huff at a
dark wavy strand of hair dangling in front of my eyes and hustle past the people. My overstuffed bag sways with each brisk footfall I take. I head straight to the bathrooms. My hyper-awareness makes me glare uneasily over my left shoulder as I pull the door open. A tall silhouette of a man lingers hauntingly in the distance. I pass it off as a payback from not feeding. My small bubble of hope in ever seeing Graham again hightailed it out of town just as he did. That night of the Halloween party, something changed between us. He discovered my fangs were real and he couldn't pop my cherry of life. I'm still numb from that kiss, it was the type of kiss that could take the self-righteousness right out of you, and have you hunger for the rapture of the seven deadly sins. 

I chunk m
y bag under the pedestal sink and take a look around. Red glazed-brick lined walls, a couple of oval beveled mirrors, and red clustered round lanterns hanging from the ceiling. I grip the sink with both hands and give myself a mental pat on the back for making it this far. My big brown dull eyes reflect back what I know already. I need to cater to my thirst, and soon. A loud commotion of noise directs my attention to the stalls on my right. Thumping,
no
, a pounding, frantically someone's being attacked. Right here in the effin' bathroom. The spiked scent of blood stonewalls me from twitching a muscle for a moment. 

I look underneath the stall door and see two sets of feet, each pair pointing in the opposite direction.  One set is definitely male, in hand-painted canvas sneakers and a female in wicked platform shoes. The male's
feet begin quivering as the attack subsides. Several minutes pass without any movement coming from the stall, I decide to stay out of this and begin to wash my hands.  I glance in the mirror and see a lanky female step out and quietly close the metal door.  Attached to the wicked platform shoes is a gorgeous female, with funky strips of bold scarlet hair which stamps an unforgettable impression. One look and I know she's a very content grey-eyed vamp. How do I know she is a vampire? Her fangs retracting and the disregard she shows for what just happened, as she uses the back of her hand to wipe away a smear of blood.  She sees me, smiles with complete sarcasm, then moves to the other sink and uses the mirror to check her hair and makeup.  She doesn't seem to care about the large stain of blood down the side of her white blouse.

“I know, I know...
never
wear white to breakfast, or dinner in my case.” She smirks at me then questions, “New in town? I mean you are at a train station.”

“Yeah, just arrived.”

“Are you here because you know someone?”

“No.”

“Do you want to know someone?”

Her question makes me snort, “Do I need to know someone?”

She reaches past me and swipes several towels out of the dispenser. “Solace is a big city and it is always good to
know
someone
, if you're planning to stay here.” 

“City?” I mumble a bit confused.

“Yeah, it's a
city
,” She wisecracks back with an arched pierced eyebrow. Drying her hands off she extends one out. “Name’s Pandora... now you know someone.”

“Mattie
.” I grasp her hand quickly, making the contact short.

As she adverts back to re-adjusting her blood stained aristocratic blouse she grumbles something or other under her breath. It's obvious it's not the type of blouse she bought at a thrift store
. All the fancy lace and pleats would have me go stir-crazy. Especially the white, I don't do white.

“So, if you're not here because you know someone, then you're here for...?”

She beat me before I can ask her more about the city. I turn and lean a hip against the sink. “A serum.”

“Daylight.” She doesn't even peek up as she states it so matter-of-fact
ly.

“That's the one.” I try to sound all suave and non-nonchalant about it, even though I'm screaming inside my head going
where the hell can I get my hands on it?
!

“Hey, I'll tell you what... you c
an head back with me to my place,
if
you can help me not look like a fucking serial killer. You really don't want to hang out here in the bathroom all day do you?”

“Well, since you put it that way....” I dig in my bag and pull out my
Goth black hoodie, the one with the skeletal hands clutching the boobs of the wearer.  I hope Pandora has a sense of humor.

She slips the hoodie on, looks in the mirror and laughs.  “Wicked. How did you know that I like my men with
boners?”

“Is he going to be okay in there?” I gesture to the stall.

“Yeah, he's sacked out for now, but he may wonder how the hell he ended up in the ladies bathroom,” she clarifies with a wink.

I shrug and zip up my bag, sling it over my shoulder and reply, “Okay Pan, show me this city.”

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