Four Centuries (Damned and Cursed Book 7) (42 page)

Taking a deep breath, she shoved the note in the glove compartment.
 
She wasn't happy with the words, and could probably spend another hour getting her thoughts together, but wasn't sure she had the time.
 
The man she was going to kill wasn't going to wait while she wrote her goodbyes.

She left the Jeep and glanced at her reflection in the window.
 
Her outfit, as simple as it was, had occupied her thoughts more than when she ever wanted to impress a guy.
 
She wore a pair of black yoga pants and a turquoise shirt.
 
It wasn't her goal to show off her figure, although she drew a few second looks from the passersby.
 
All she was thinking about was movement.
 
Whatever was going to happen with Steven, she didn't want loose clothes getting snagged on anything, distracting her.

Zoey paid her way at the door using Victoria's credit card.
 
It still hadn't been canceled yet.
 
Her nerves were frayed as she stepped into the club.
 
Not only because of what she intended to do, but also the typical attack on her senses.
 
She made a promise to herself that if she was successful, she was never going to another club again.

She skulked and moved about the club for nearly thirty minutes.
 
She even took the time to flirt a little with the guys nearby, and enjoy a dance or two, simply to blend in.
 
All the while she kept her eyes moving about, searching.
 
She tried to think of how Victoria would handle things.

Doubt started to creep in, the most terrible feeling.
 
What if Kevin was wrong?
 
What if whatever magic he'd used on her phone didn't work?
 
He said himself it was his first attempt at that particular potion, that it was supposed to be a photo, and not a drawing.
 
What if she drove through several states and betrayed Victoria's trust for nothing?

Just as she was battling her turmoil, she spotted him.
 
Steven.
 
Zoey didn't know his last name.
 
She didn't know his likes or dislikes, how old he was, where he called home, what his favorite color was.
 
She didn't care about anything when she'd first met him, other than he was attractive and charming.
 
None of it mattered now, either.
 
The only thing that mattered was she was going to kill him.

Steven was using the same charm on another young woman.
 
A rage Zoey didn't expect burned, and she stopped dancing in the middle of the floor.
 
She stood out, something she was trying to avoid.
 
She wanted nothing more than to rush at Steven, claw at his eyes, ruin his life, the way he ruined hers.

Her senses returned.
 
She excused herself from her partner, turning down a phone number in the process, and made her way to the side near the bar.
 
She moved behind people, never staying in the open, keeping out of sight.
 
A power swept over her.
 
She could see Steven, but he couldn't see her.
 
It was her turn to be the hunter, the predator, unlike before.

She squeezed her way to the bar, where she ordered a water she wouldn't consume.
 
Steven was still on the other side of the club.
 
The noise wouldn't let her hear them, but she could imagine the conversation, having lived through it herself.
 
He was complimenting her, telling her she was beautiful, how sexy her laugh was.
 
Zoey watched as he ran a hand through her hair and let it rest on her hip.
 
The woman with him was completely in the palm of his hand, at his mercy.

Zoey knew the feeling.

A frightening thought struck her as she pretended to drink.
 
Could Steven smell her?
 
Victoria could identify people by their scent, something Zoey hadn't mastered.
 
Could Steven do the same?

She chose to believe he couldn't.
 
Steven was nowhere in Victoria's league.
 
Perhaps with the distractions the nightclub provided, his nose was thrown off as much as hers.
 
Zoey could smell so many different things, but had no idea in which direction they were.

A horrible sense of Déjà vu attacked her as she watched Steven approach the end of his plan.
 
During the past two days, Zoey never thought she'd relive the night her life changed, but that's exactly what she was witnessing.
 
He leaned in close to the woman, gently massaging her neck, and whispered something in her ear.
 
Whatever it was, she smiled and nodded, keeping a finger hooked in a belt loop of his jeans.
 
He kissed her hungrily, which she responded to in kind.
 
Zoey watched as he led her to a side exit and left the club.
 
She wiped a tear away.
 
Now she was in Kylie's position, having to follow someone from a nightclub to protect another making a mistake.

She crossed the floor toward the door, but stopped short of leaving.
 
In the open night her scent may carry.
 
Steven may figure out she was approaching.
 
Time was running out, and she had to do something quickly.
 
She glanced at the couple next to her, enjoying an intimate conversation while drinking beer.

"I'm so sorry," she said, and reached out, taking their drinks.

"Whoa!" the man said.
 
"What—?"

Zoey held the two beers over her head and doused herself.
 
Her hair, shirt, pants, were soaked.
 
A few people nearby laughed, while others frowned in confusion.
 
The woman of the couple laughed and stared at her boyfriend.

"That's…kinda hot," she said.

Zoey ignored them and threw the bottles away before leaving the club.

Her breathing hitched when she stepped into the alley.
 
She eased the door closed behind her, not wanting to make any more noise than necessary.
 
Steven and his woman were already well ahead, nearly turning a corner.
 
She knew exactly what was he doing, which unnerved her.
 
He would lead her far away, with the promise of a fun night in his arms, and drink her blood.
 
He would not show compassion or gentleness, like Victoria or herself.
 
There was the chance he would kill her.
 
He simply didn't care.

Zoey didn't rush.
 
She moved carefully and quietly.
 
They turned the corner, but she didn't panic.
 
Victoria taught her that there was more in processing the world than her eyes.
 
She could hear them.
 
Their quiet whispers, throaty laughs.
 
She couldn't tell their scents apart, but she could smell them.

She'd made it halfway down the alley when her ears picked up a barely audible gasp.
 
In her mind, Zoey could picture exactly what was happening.

Silence was quickly forgotten.
 
She ran to the corner, and although she knew what she'd see, was still shocked.

Steven had the woman pinned against the wall.
 
Zoey had expected him to walk further, take the woman deeper into the alleys, like he'd done with her.
 
But he already had his fangs in her neck.
 
His hand covered her face, to keep her still and her neck exposed.
 
With his other hand he held her by her jeans, to prevent her sliding down the wall.
 
The woman enjoyed the sensation as her body quivered, but Steven didn't care about her pleasure.
 
He drank far too fast.
 
It wouldn't be long before she was dead.

Zoey ran as fast as she could.
 
She lowered her shoulder just before impact, connecting with Steven's side.
 
Reckless and primal, but effective.
 
The trio fell to the ground, knocking over a garbage can on the way down.

The woman held her neck, confusion and panic in her eyes.
 
Blood seeped between her fingers as she glanced between Zoey and Steven.
 
Steven was on one knee, gathering his senses.

"Are you okay?" Zoey asked.

The woman said nothing.
 
Her gaze finally locked on Steven.
 
Zoey could see the emotions playing out.
 
Confusion, fear, anger, and finally betrayal.

"What did you do to me?" she shouted.

She tried to stand up, but only succeeded in rolling over and vomiting.
 
Zoey crawled toward her and tried to pull her hand away.
 
She resisted at first.

"Please," Zoey said.
 
"I can help you."

The woman lowered her hand, giving Zoey access to her neck.
 
She licked quickly.
 
The blood was delicious, but a quick sip wasn't her goal.
 
The woman shivered involuntarily as Zoey lapped up the remaining nectar.

"Go."
 
Zoey pushed her away by the shoulder.
 
"Run!"

Her first few steps were a stumble, but the woman finally managed to pick up speed.
 
Zoey tried to stand as the woman ran away.

Her eyes shot open as a hand grabbed her by the hair.
 
She was lifted off her feet, twisting and flailing about, like a puppet.
 
Steven frowned at her as he looked her in the eyes.

"You look familiar."

Zoey didn't get a chance to respond before he rammed her head into the wall.
 
She couldn't even scream in pain.
 
He forcefully dragged her face across the brick, tearing at her skin.
 
She tried to reach behind her, but her enhanced strength could do nothing if she couldn't grab him.
 
She had no leverage, no range.

Steven flung her aside, as if she were nothing.
 
She landed on the ground and slumped against the fence.
 
Pulling herself to her hands and knees, Steven landed the first of many kicks to her ribs and stomach.
 
The air rushed out of her from the powerful blows.
 
His strength was at its highest peak, a minute removing from feeding.

"I know you," he said.
 
"We've met before?"

She didn't know what was more insulting.
 
The beating, or the fact that he didn't remember her.

"Zoey," she hissed, clutching her side.
 
"You're the one that made me a vampire."

Memory flashed through his eyes.

"Yes!
 
I remember."
 
His eyes traveled along her, making her feel unclean.
 
"Florida, right?
 
You're much paler now than then.
 
It suits you, I like it.
 
It was you, and one other young woman.
 
I just remember she tasted delicious.
 
What was her name?"

Anger pushed her forward.

"Her name is Kylie!"

Another kick sent her down once again.

"Yeah, that was her.
 
You helped me get rid of her body."

Despair, grief, and guilt overwhelmed her once again.
 
She was familiar with the feelings, good friends with them.
 
They were her companions for weeks in her parents' basement.
 
She would have given anything to have that night of her life back.

"And then you told me to fuck myself," he said, laughing.
 
"Now you're here for revenge, I guess."
 
He shook his head sadly.
 
"Zoey, did you even put thought into any of this?"

She hadn't.
 
The furthest she took her thoughts was that she wanted to kill Steven.
 
The parade of
should haves
teased her as she winced in pain.
 
She should have tracked Steven longer, learned his habits and hangouts.
 
She should have drank blood before coming to the club, to keep her strength high.
 
She should have begged Victoria to help her.

Instead, she'd lost the element of surprise.
 
Steven loomed over her, every advantage his.
 
She was going to die.

She allowed herself a small smile.
 
At least she would die saving someone else, which was more than she could do for Kylie.

"Do you even know how to kill one of us?" he asked.
 
He walked to a nearby dumpster and pulled out a broken curtain rod.
 
"So many people think it has to be a wooden stake through the heart, but it doesn't have to be wood.
 
This would do, for example."
 
He brandished the rod.
 
"And it won't kill you.
 
But I'll let the sun finish that."

"Fuck you," Zoey said.
 
"I'm not scared of you."

"It didn't have to be this way.
 
I would have taken care of you."

"And go from town to town, killing people?
 
No."

"I don't kill everyone.
 
That wouldn't be smart.
 
But sometimes, I have to let off some steam.
 
I'll admit, though, your friend, Kylie.
 
I just couldn't stop drinking."

"You—"