Overworld Chronicles Books 1-2: Sweet Blood of Mine & Dark Light of Mine (51 page)

God, it hurt so bad. She punched her pillow. Punched it again. Picked it up and threw it against the wall where it hit with a muted thud. Elyssa got out of bed and paced the room wanting to smash the simple wooden furniture to pieces and scream and rage until the agony in her heart went away and left her alone. How could she do this? How could she let another person take a part of her soul with her wherever he went?

"Justin," she said, and fresh tears leaked from her eyes.

She growled and punched the wooden-paneled wall, cracking it down the center. She punched it again and again until her fists were raw and bleeding.

"Go away. Go away!" She said it over and over as if it would dissipate her feelings. As if she had the power to command love into oblivion.

An image of brilliant light flashed into her mind and she stopped mid-punch. Her fists healed, the skin sealing up and pushing out the splinters in her knuckles. Elyssa barely noticed. The dream was coming back to her. The one that had woken her. The one that made her cry in her sleep. Justin was dying, or dead in the dream. She'd floated to him on a brilliant cloud of light and held his hand until he left her.

Panic welled in her throat and she choked back a scream. No, it hadn't happened. Had it? It was just a dream. But it had felt so real. His skin, the touch of his lips still lingered on hers and she could smell him and the overpowering Axe deodorant he used. She really needed to get him to switch to Old Spice.

Deep breaths didn't make her panic go away. If anything, more images came into her mind. An old crone, toothless and cackling at her. Telling her four-three-one-one was the magic number. Then she'd vanished, replaced by glowing light. It felt as though something had possessed her then, the way dreams usually operated. Except it had seemed frighteningly real.

The bedroom door cracked open and Leia poked in her head. Elyssa hardly ever called her mother anymore. In fact, she'd been trained to call her parents by their first names for years now. Family ties would earn her no leeway in training or any other aspect of Templar business. If anything, having a commander who was also your father made things worse. Ryland's training, from the way he told it, was a cakewalk compared to the things she'd had to endure. But it didn't anger her or make her love her parents any less. If anything, it increased her respect for their standards.

"What's going on in here?" Leia asked, stepping inside, the black soft-soled boots she wore making little sound. The silver ends of two short swords protruded diagonally from sheaths across her back, and the tight black Templar night camouflage she wore pressed tight against her curves.

"Nothing." Elyssa turned her back to her mother and stared out the window.

The door clicked shut. "I can't believe you're being so unreasonable about that—that thing. What part of your lessons don't you remember? Maybe we should send you back to your history teacher and have him fill in the blanks again."

"I remember everything,
Mother
. But I'm smart enough to realize not every individual is a clone of every other of their kind." She turned to face her. "How many dhampyrs have we arrested or put down over the years? I haven't even been on active duty that long and I can list three of them."

"That's different and you know it."

"Different? Tell me how."

"A tiny minority broke the law. Some are serving time at Lazaro while the others resisted and paid with their lives."

"And what makes them different from spawn? I don't remember ever apprehending a spawn. The last time one of them broke Covenant, they turned themselves in."

"Because their house made them do it."

"You can't accept it, can you? Whatever harm spawn did to Thomas is no reason to hate the entire race. Especially not Justin. He's not even full spawn."

"Don't be foolish, girl."

Elyssa bristled, fists clenched and eyes narrowed.

"That's right. You're being a stupid girl, Elyssa. Thomas and I have talked and decided you're of no use to us in a normal school any longer. You're to be reassigned to boarding school with others of your kind."

"You're sending me to Westbury?" It was the only supernatural school close enough to be a candidate.

She nodded. "We wanted you to adapt to a normal human way of life so you'd blend in better should we need you to go undercover once you achieved the Cho'kai. Instead, you let yourself be fooled by spawn and seem so brainwashed we see no way you'll be able to take the trials this year."

Elyssa felt her bottom lip drop in disbelief. "You know I'm ready. Give me the trials right now and I'll prove it to you."

"Oh, you have plenty to prove,
girl
." Leia shook her head. "You could have been the youngest to pass the Cho'kai and the first female in decades to move up to full guardian status."

"Gee, I don't know who's more disappointed. Me or Commander Borathen. All he cares about is that he trained me. I'm not his daughter, I'm an achievement. Just like Jack and Michael before me." Elyssa jerked open her closet doors so hard, the hinges squealed. She grabbed her night camo, stripped, and slid it on. The clingy material felt cool against her clammy skin. She had to get out of there. Had to find Justin.

"What do you think you're doing? We made it very clear you're suspended from duty until we decide what to do with you."

"You can take your duty and shove it."

"That's no way to speak to your mother! You will show me respect."

"Well you're not showing respect for choices I've made or even my opinion, so I don't see how you deserve any respect from me." She sucked in an angry breath to fight back the salty tidal wave threatening to break past her eyes. "If you think you trained me so well, then give me the damned right to choose who my friends are and who I love. Otherwise it's meaningless. All of it!" The last part came out as a shout. Elyssa panted as anger and grief pressed hard against her emotional barriers, the ones she'd spent years building up only to find them torn down the moment she went all gaga for a boy.

Leia stared with wide accusing eyes, her mouth set in a deep scowl. "It's our fault," she said in a restrained voice. "We take the full blame for failing you, child. But we'll set things aright. Don't worry." She sighed. "In the meantime, you're grounded to your quarters. If you try to escape, we'll put you in the brig. Don't think we won't."

A bitter laugh escaped Elyssa's mouth. "Why should I doubt you? I've already spent more time in there than most of the real criminals."

"Don't force me to—" Leia's voice cut off abruptly as Elyssa blurred to her, feinted with a low kick, spun, and caught her with a hard chop to the throat to keep her from yelling out an alarm.

Elyssa whipped her torso the other way, sending a vicious elbow to Leia's temple. The other woman collapsed, unconscious for at least…Elyssa checked the tiny watch she wore and calculated she had one or two minutes before her mother's supernatural healing kicked in and woke her up. Not much time, but enough to get a head start. She grabbed a small knapsack from underneath her bed where she'd put it after filling it with fresh clothes and toiletries.

The bedroom windows were spelled and warded against use, so she'd have to make her way downstairs and through the front door since using any other door at this time of night would trip an alarm ward and have the entire compound of Templars on her back. She slipped the uniform's hood over her head. It wasn't unusual for Templars to wear them like this indoors, but there weren't many females on site and that might make things tricky. Breasts were hard to hide.

The downstairs hallway was empty. Most agents were out on duty, patrolling the streets or going on raids, away from the prying eyes of the noms—a term many used to refer to normal humans. Some agents would come back for a couple hours of sleep and then go to day jobs, blending in with the noms and keeping ears open for signs of unusual activity. Her mother ran a hair salon of all things. The absurdity of that woman styling hair made Elyssa shake her head at times, though she ran the place almost as strictly as she did her squad of Templar agents.

The house's large foyer was also empty, though Elyssa thought she heard a noise from the kitchen. The manor house served meals to the agents, but the time for eating was long past. She crept past the large entryway into the kitchen and looked inside. Nobody. She removed her knapsack and eased open the walk-in freezer. Wax-coated cardboard boxes lined the shelves along one wall. She opened the nearest and stuffed an empty compartment of the knapsack with enough blood packs to last her for a while. There were other Templar posts around the city supplying blood, but after her escape, they'd all be on the lookout for her.

She fastened the pack on her back and slipped out the front door. Crouching in the darkness, she opened her senses to the environment. A horse whickered and stomped its hoof. A dog barked in the distance. Two sentries moved along the perimeter of the ranch fence, nearly invisible but for their body heat which stood out to her against the chill night air.

Thirty
, she thought as her internal timer counted down the seconds. She'd averaged her mother's unconscious state out to ninety seconds and was closing in fast on zero. Time to get away before the alarm went off. She masked her psychic presence, slowed her heart so as to decrease her body heat, and set off down the asphalt driveway at a quick stroll. Thanks to the wards and runes along the perimeter, she had little choice in her exit strategy.

When the heat signature of the sentries faded in the distance to be almost undetectable, she was about halfway down the driveway. Still, the alarm had not been raised, making her curious and very wary.
Fear destroys logic
, she remembered, thinking back to the lessons her Art of War instructor had beaten into her head.
Panic defies reason. Act with reason and logic.
Easy things to remember, but very hard to put into practice during the heat of battle or the cold fear of discovery during an escape. She'd learned the hard way when vamplings had nearly killed her and Justin during their attempt to rescue his father from rogue vampires.

Things had worked out, amazingly, although Justin had done something when he'd saved her. She could almost feel him at times and wondered if she was truly in love with him, or if maybe he had done something to her when he'd pushed life back into her.

"Of course I love him," she said aloud. She'd loved him even before their first kiss. From the way he respected her as an equal to the way he sometimes told her in no uncertain terms he would do something and did.

He could be headstrong, but he'd taught her to stop being so stubborn all the time and to listen to her heart. He'd been such a silly boy at first but had grown into a man—one who would stand up to bullies for his friends and never hesitate to protect those he loved. Maybe he wasn't the best planner in the world, but his heart was always in the right place. And he had a great ass.

A smile touched her lips.

Who wouldn't love a man like that?
Stop questioning your heart. He almost sacrificed his life's blood for you. Treasure him.

She reached the end of the driveway and listened. No alarm. No rustle of leaves or encroaching body heat to indicate Leia had finally come to and given the order to bring in her rebellious daughter. Worry stabbed Elyssa. Had she miscalculated and hurt her mom? Really injured her badly enough she might be dying right now? Elyssa knew how to hit properly. She could disable a person, completely incapacitate them, or kill if need be. She'd hit her mother just right, she felt certain of it. But the one percent of doubt multiplied in her head.

Doubt kills hope. Hope is the light that leads to victory against all odds.
Her Art of War instructor, Victor Mazin, an old one-eyed human was full of crap like that. Then again, that crap usually helped her through times like this and filled her with the resolve to move forward.

The urge to turn around and go back nearly halted her forward progress but she forced herself onward, reciting mantra in her head. She'd set out on this path and now it was her duty to complete it. Finding Justin was the first order of things. He should be back at Shelton's by now. She pulled out her smartphone and retrieved the GPS coordinates for his hideaway. Listened for a moment more to see if she was being followed. When she heard nothing, she zipped down the road a mile, stopping at an abandoned gas station and entering the garage through a broken back door.

Vandals had broken most of the glass from the windows but none of them had been strong enough to lift the metal plate over the oil-changing pit underneath the car lifts or bright enough to find where she'd relocated the button to the hydraulic lift. She leapt up to the rafters and reached inside a vent, pressing the "Up" button on the control she'd fastened there. One of the lifts rumbled into action, hydraulic pumps thrumming as the unit ascended, taking a thick metal plate with it. Once it was fully up, Elyssa dropped to the floor and entered the pit. She picked up the long ten by twelve piece of lumber stowed there and propped it against the lip of the pit.

The old Harley she'd hidden here had half a tank of fuel left and started on the first try. She'd ridden it almost a month ago, so no surprise there. She guided it up the wooden ramp and parked it, the new muffler on it making only the slightest of rumbles. Some would call it sacrilege to silence a Harley, but her brother Michael had helped her with it, agreeing one could still ride in perfect style without all the noise.

After closing the oil pit, Elyssa hopped on the motorcycle and guided it through the broken down back door on the garage. She activated the GPS on her phone and took off for Shelton's place. Soon she'd be back with Justin and the world would feel right again.

Chapter 11

I heard screaming. Roaring. Growling. The first image I saw was a wooden-beamed ceiling. Or at least it looked like a ceiling. My eyesight was blurry, like looking through a filthy window only muddying the view worse when you try to wipe it clean with a sleeve. The roaring grew louder. Something wooden crashed against a solid object and glass shattered.