Dying Forever (Waking Forever Book 3) (28 page)

Bryce shook her head. “They won’t. I left without notice when -” Her mind raced as the vivid images of Abitha and Aaron in bed together filled her mind’s eye.

“What is it?” Duncan was suddenly next to her again.

“The women I was staying with - they were doing things and I wanted no part of it.”

Duncan’s brow arched. “What things?”

Bryce hadn’t intended on ever telling anyone what she had seen. The thought sickened her and she had no desire to relive the moment for purposes of storytelling. But things were different now and she felt unafraid and uninhibited for the first time in her life. Impossible seemed foreign, more like a challenge than something to dread.

“The women had knowledge of one another
. And the mistress of the house and her son were - together.” Bryce watched as Duncan’s expression went from amused by the women’s coupling, to concerned by the mother and son’s fornication.

“These women
- they’ve lived together for how long?”

Bryce shrugged
. She was surprised at how the memory had faded along with the disgust, fear, and uncertainty. It was distant as if it were a story she had heard, not something she had witnessed. “They all knew each other when I arrived.”

“
What else was happening when you discovered them?” The urgency in the man’s voice made Bryce uneasy.

“The group was in
Abitha’s bed. Candles were everywhere, along with -” Just picturing the blood that covered their bodies caused the burning in the back of Bryce’s throat to flare again. Swallowing hard, she continued. “Blood. The four were covered in blood.”

A flash of blue lit up Duncan’s eyes. “
I need to make inquiries.”

Bryce couldn’t help but laugh. “What? Why would it matter to you?”

Duncan stood perfectly still, his tall frame silhouetted by the light coming through the cellar doorway. “You were living in a coven, Bryce.”

Coven was a word Bryce
was
familiar with. The tales and folklore of her homeland weren’t that different from the Colonies, and she had known about the existence of witches since she was a child. “I don’t think Abitha is a witch.”

Duncan rubbed the back of his neck, his irritation evident. “They aren’t the specters of the night and purveyors of the occult that you think
, Bryce. They have powers, and some are very strong. Stronger still when they gather in numbers.”

Seeing he meant to leave her, Bryce began to struggle against the silver restraints. “Don’t leave me here!”

“I’ll send Nan down to sit with you. I’ll be back shortly.” Without another word, the man was gone. Bryce laid listening to sounds and whispers she could only guess at, all overshadowed by the loud cracking and booming of gunfire and the smaller sounds of men dying in the distance.

Hours had passed before Nan came into the cellar. Bryce was amazed at how she felt no hint of fatigue or discomfort. The burning in her throat and stomach had returned, though, and she hoped Nan would bring her something to relieve it. She was still struggling with the idea of consuming human blood, but the grotesqueness of the act faded with each passing hour.

“Duncan is dead.” Nan stood over Bryce, a rag dripping with blood clutched in her left hand.

“What?!” Bryce went to sit up and was reminded of the silver cords as they dug into her shoulders, chest, and hips.

“Your witch ended him.” Nan knelt next to Bryce and held the rag to the woman’s lips. “He thought too much of himself - and our kind.”

Sucking furiously at the rag, Bryce forced her mouth away. After the initial wave of euphoria washed over her from the infusion of blood, she managed to speak. “How?”

Tossing the rag to the side, Nan shrugged, her tone flat and indifferent. “Some witches have power over life and death. Since we are dead, that gives them domain over us
, too.” She lifted the silver cord from Bryce’s legs.

“He - he said I could never die.” Bryce felt relief as the weight of a second cord was removed from her hips.

Nan chuckled. “Everything dies, Bryce. Everyone’s days are numbered. Some higher than others.”

The last cord was removed and as quickly as the thought to move shot through her head, Bryce was on her feet and standing near the entrance to the cellar.

“I thought -” Bryce looked at the woman, who now, with her new sight, was even more radiant and beautiful than Bryce remembered.

“He wasn’t my maker. He found me
fifty years ago, half-starved in the wilderness.” Her cool demeanor faltered, but then she set her jaw and continued. “He taught me how to be a vampire, but I was done with his decadent way of life. He knew it, and we had agreed to part company on good terms.”

Bryce remembered the splendor of the house above them and couldn’t imagine why Nan would want leave. “Why would you want to give -”

“We’re animals, Bryce. The very top of the food chain. Duncan’s refinements haven’t suited me for years.” Nan walked toward Bryce, dropping the last cord to the ground. “Restraint, moderation - those are just nice words for conceding your power.”

The woman brushed past Bryce and stood on the stairs.
“You’re going to help me, Bryce. In return, I will teach you how to be a vampire.” The woman sighed deeply. “Make no mistake. I have no interest in you as a companion. You seem altogether too decent for my taste. But I need your help; I mean to kill Abitha and her coven, less they impede my efforts in the future.”

Bryce felt no kinship with Nan, but though the memory seemed very distant, she did owe Duncan her life. Both the one he had saved in the alley and the one he had given her hours ago.

Though dawn was at least an hour away, the sky seemed bright and alive over Bryce as she
and Nan walked down the street. She had often struggled maintaining her balance on the uneven, muddy streets of Boston, but now she moved smoothly, not so much as a stutter in her step.

The cannon fire from earlier had subsided
. If Bryce focused her attention, she could hear the echo of a hundred footsteps as the soldiers drew nearer to the city.

“A bi
t early for you to be out on your own, sweethearts.” A man in his forties, dressed in tattered, dirty trousers and a jacket, was snuffing out a street lamp with a long metal pole as he leered at Bryce and Nan.

A
tickle began on the roof of Bryce’s mouth. Her vision narrowed until all she could see was the man; all she could hear was the pounding of his heart in her head. The smell of urine and sweat was masked by the most deliciously sweet, floral scent she had ever experienced. Instantly she felt her incisors extend.

Covering her mouth, she remembered how frightened she had been when Duncan ha
d attacked her. She looked at Nan, who stood passive at her side, and Bryce felt her stomach cramp as the man came closer.

Looking nervously from Nan to the man, Bryce could see
his lips moving, but all she could hear was his heart. Then there was the low hum of a running river that seemed to be in sync with the heartbeat. Bryce instinctively knew it was the sound of the man’s blood flowing through his body.

An amused smirk spread across Nan’s lips. “Practice.” The woman whispered the single word into Bryce’s ear as she stepped behind the redhead.

“You two look a little pale. Need some help?” The man grabbed for Bryce, and in a second the woman had reached for his wrist, bending it backwards until it snapped.

Down on his knees in front of her, the man’s filthy face was stained with tears as he cried out in pain. Pulling him to his feet by his greasy hair, Bryce felt a surge of excitement as she s
ank her teeth into the front of the man’s throat. Warm, minerally blood rushed into her mouth. A sob escaped her as the exhilaration of feeding cascaded over her.

Seconds later, the once sweet blood began to take on a
bitter taste, and again, Nan’s voice was in Bryce’s ear. “Let him go before the blood spoils.”

Dropping
the dead man to the ground, Bryce spit the last of his blood onto his still chest. Wiping at her mouth, she was shocked by the ease at which she had taken another life; but it seemed altogether right.

“You’re a natural. Good, I won’t have to spend too much time bringing you up to speed.” Nan stepped over the corpse and continued walking down the street.

Leaving the dead man
on the muddy street, Bryce continued after Nan, toward Abitha’s house. She had no idea what had transpired there between the witch and Duncan, but the woman and her coven were clearly a threat. Bryce had spent her entire life afraid of one thing or another, and she would not begin eternity in the same vein.

“Can you hear the heartbeats?” Nan stood on the sidewalk in front of Abitha’s house, her eyes glowing an intense blue as she stood shoulder to shoulder with Bryce.

The house was cloaked in darkness, but Bryce could hear the steady beat of three hearts. Her strength and speed emboldened her as she followed Nan up the front stoop. The brunette quietly forced the front door open and a second later the two women were standing on the second floor in front of Catherine’s bedroom door.

Nan nodded toward the closed door. “In the beginning, you don’t need to be neat. Refinement comes with repetition and practice.” She pushed the thin wood door open, revealing a sleeping figure in the bed near the corner of the small room.

Bryce took a deep breath in through her nose. The scent of roses and moss washed over her, and in a blink of an eye, she stood over a sleeping Catherine.

“Bryce?” Catherine’s hushed whisper came
as the woman’s eyes fluttered open and she started to sit up.

Without warning, Bryce silently
lunged at the woman, pushing her back onto the bed. Sinking her teeth into the woman’s neck, she was abruptly forced backward onto the floor by invisible hands around her chest.

Catherine
rolled from the bed and staggered to her feet. She gasped, her blood flowing onto the floor as she glared at Bryce. When the woman opened her mouth to speak a wet, gurgling sound escaped her. Her eyes widened as she stepped back, nearly falling to the ground.

Bryce felt the
vise around her chest loosen and immediately lunged toward the dying woman, snapping her neck with a single stroke.

Stepping back out into the hall, Bryce
turned to see Nan leaning against Aaron’s bedroom door. “Well, done. Ruthless, cruel, and quick.”

The brunette lifted her head and took a deep breath in through her nose. “Focus. Can you smell that?”

The scent of stale blood mixed with lavender reminded Bryce of Margaret. The woman had been killed in the house, most likely by Duncan. “Someone else has been killed here.”

Nan nodded. “Now they are only two.” She pushed off the door and stood in front of Bryce. “I’m leaving you to do your
worst. Or die trying.”

The woman walked toward the stairs and turned one last time to consider Bryce. “
Remember, everything dies, Bryce. It’s the life you lead, not the length of that life, that matters.” She turned her back to Bryce and began descending the stairs. “Indulge your nature, and don’t be lulled into complacency by the promise of immortality. Everything passes.”

The woman was gone and with her the only other vampire Bryce knew. She was alone, and where she would have expected an overwhelming sadness she found only irritation and anger toward Abitha. Her emotions towards the woman were amplified, as was her need for revenge for her dead maker and being left to navigate eternity by herself.

Bryce pushed open Aaron’s door. The young man lay on his back in bed, his sheet pulled up to his chest. Determined not to make the same mistake Duncan had by underestimating the witches, Bryce pounced on the sleeping man, plunging her fist into the man’s chest and ripping his heart free. Tilting her head back, the vampire drank the blood as it poured from the still beating organ.

Bryce looked
down. Aaron’s eyes were open, glassed over with a look of shock and pain. Leaping from the corpse, she landed silently on the worn wood floor. Turning to leave, she stopped. Abitha stood in the doorway, naked, her black hair cascading over her shoulders.

“What have you done?” Her eyes were fixed on her dead son.

Now faced with the witch, and on her own, Bryce had no desire to confront Abitha. Given what Nan had said, she knew the woman posed a very real threat and could end her life before it even began.

Without a word, Bryce ran toward the small window and dove through it. Landing on the street below, she looked up to see Abitha’s rage
-filled face staring at her through the shattered glass.

The
redheaded vampire sprinted through the streets of Boston and into the forest beyond the city. It was time to leave, to go somewhere, anywhere - fill her mind, stretch her imagination, and be truly awake for the first time in her life. Now she had nothing to fear, nothing to lose. She was free.

Chapter
12

Alison and Bryce sat facing each other on the sofa.
The blonde was at a loss for words given the depth of Bryce’s two-hundred-and-seventy-three-year life.