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Authors: Lacy Yager

Tags: #vampire, #family, #martial arts, #witch, #best friends, #competition, #warlock, #action romance

Rival (10 page)

BOOK: Rival
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"You want to carry or clear the way?" I
ask.

"You'd better let me carry," he says
with a half sigh. "You'll slice your arms open with that sleeveless
dress."

I shove an armful of swords at him,
seven or eight in all.

I'm ready to grab one for myself when I
think better of it and rush to the nearby rack of long knives. I
take two, quickly strapping one to my thigh with a short belt made
for just that.

I bring the other to Brett and lift the
tail of his jacket.

"Careful," he warns as I slide it into
the back of his waistband.

I pat his butt and go back to the
swords, taking one for each hand. "Let's do this."

I lead the way back into the hall. The
shadowy darkness takes a moment to get used to after the light of
the training room. I thought I was being smart leaving the lights
off, but I should've thought that it would be hard for us to see
once our eyes had been in the light.

I'm out of practice.

"So..." Brett whispers as we walk
carefully back down the hall. "Your family fights
vampires?"

"Yeah. Has for generations."

He is silent for a second. "Bet your
mom loves that."

I hum a half-laugh, getting a little
frantic as we pause in the kitchen to get the lay of
things.

The vamps have the upper hand, some of
my family have fallen, but I can't tell how bad the damage
is.

I look over my shoulder and Brett is
there, steady and confident. And ready.

With all the swords in his
arms, I can’t lean in for a kiss. But I hope he can read my
feelings in the intensity of my gaze. "Stay close," I tell him. But
what I really mean is,
I love
you.

I throw open the door and fly out,
swords slicing.

I decapitate one vamp before he even
realizes we're coming.

Brett whistles shrilly and tosses a
sword to my uncle, the nearest relative. It gives him the upper
hand with the vamp he's struggling with, and he takes it out. We
repeat the move until Brett and I have one sword each. We're
back-to-back in the middle of the parquet floor, and the vamps keep
coming.

And then someone else joins with a
war-cry from the side of the house. A guy about my age with mussed
chestnut hair. He fights like a Chaser, but I've never met him
before.

The stranger protects one of my cousins
who has fallen near us.

"Where's Erick?" I ask Brett over my
shoulder.

"By the pool," he grunts.

Relief surges. My best friend is all
right.

And with the additional fighter helping
us, the tide seems to have turned.

Then everything changes when a gunshot
rings out.

I flinch and swing my sword in a wide
arc. The vamp I've been grappling with jumps backward.

And I see my mom with a smoking .44
clasped in her shaking hands. Slinky party dress and all. There's a
vamp at her feet, a vamp she apparently just blew a hole
in.

Then it's all over for them.

Some of the vamps flee. The rest my
family destroys.

 

 

19 - Brett

I'm exhausted.

I know a crash is coming on. My
adrenaline is still kicking high, but it’ll tank soon
enough.

But we're alive.

I drop my sword. It clatters to the
dance floor, blood splattering off of it.

Emily does the same and turns toward
me. I pull her into my arms and bury my face in her hair that has
all fallen out of the fancy 'do.

I'm not crying, but emotion crashes
over me. Latent fear, relief that it's over, gratefulness that
she's safe, that we're together.

She's shaking, or I am, but before I
can kiss her and truly celebrate our survival, there's some guy
standing beside us, clearing his throat.

Not Erick, like I might expect. Some
dude I've never seen before.

He's wearing a plain t-shirt and jeans,
so not a party-goer. He's ripped, and carrying a sword of his
own.

"You the birthday girl?" he
asks.

"Who's asking?" I respond for her,
bristling a little.

He raises his eyebrows at Emily.
"Boyfriend?"

She looks up at me, still in my loose
embrace. "Yeah. I didn't think he was the jealous type."

I squeeze her waist lightly but glare
at the other dude.

He ignores me.

"Names Shane Campton. I'm a Chaser,
formerly from Indiana but lately from Boston." He waves his sword
around, pointing at the carnage around us. "Things are getting
worse. Here and in Boston. London, maybe in California,
too."

She looks surprised. "I hadn’t
heard..." But then she trails off. I'm guessing with her father
dead, they've kept her out of the loop. Maybe at her mom's
request.

"I'm recruiting for an offensive. I've
got Maggie Wellington pulling together a team—"

Her brows wrinkle. "Of
the
Wellington
Wellingtons?" she asks.

I've never heard the name before, but
it obviously means something to Emily.

"I thought they were all dead,” she
says.

Campton nods. Shakes his head. Looks
like he's got indigestion or something. "She... technically died in
the 1830's."

Emily gasps softly. "She's...one of
them?"

"No." His answer is quick and
definitive. "She's a Chaser, down to the bone. She's been in hiding
all this time, but she's done with that now. She's on our side.
There's a bunch of other stuff, but...I need to know if you'll
come. Fight with us."

Erick appears at my elbow, and Emily
lets go of me to embrace her cousin. Erick jerks his chin in
greeting.

"Who's this?" he asks.

"Some Chaser from Boston," I say, like
I actually know what's going on.

"Why me?" Emily asks. She's between me
and Erick now. "My uncle is the head of the family. All the
fighters in this area will go if he does."

Shane glances over her shoulder to
where the uncle—the first guy who danced with her—is helping
someone else off the ground.

"I've tried," Shane says. "But he's not
listening. He thinks things are fine as they are."

Erick shifts, and I think about him
taking the fall for the three of us at that first vampire attack in
the parking garage. "My dad won't want to leave. This is his home."
But I notice Erick doesn't say it's his home. Are things bad with
his dad?

"I've been talking to another Chaser
family in the area," Shane says. "The Reyes family."

As in Sam Reyes? From the martial arts
tournament? It had seemed like Emily knew her. Was being a Chaser
the connection?

"They're going into hiding, unless I
can convince them to fight with us."

Erick shakes his head. "We've only had
a few dealings with them. They're not as dedicated as we
are."

"I don't know," Emily says. "Sam might
be interested. She's a hothead."

Shane grins. "A lot of us are. So...are
you in?"

Emily looks away again, and I follow
her gaze to her mom, across the yard, trying to clean
up.

Many of the other people have cleared
out. I'm assuming some of them had to get medical attention. Some
are dragging away the vamp's bodies. I don't want to know what
they're going to do with them.

"I don't know," Emily says. "I need
to..." She looks up at me, looks at the Shane guy, looks at Erick.
"I've got to talk to my mom." She turns back at me. "Can you
stay?"

"Of course."

I watch her walk away, and it's not
until Erick says something that I realize the other two have been
watching as well.

"You gonna take care of her?" Erick
asks.

I glance at him, and he's totally
serious. Deadly serious. "Yeah."

"Promise?"

I nod.

"But not keep her from fighting?" he
asks.

I crack a smile. "Nobody really tells
Emily what to do."

He laughs. Then he turns to the new
guy. "I'm in, man," Erick says.

"You sure?" I ask. "You don't even know
him."

Erick and Shane slap palms, clasp
wrists in a handshake. "We're both Chasers," Erick says.

"It's like a creed," agrees
Shane.

I'm watching Emily with her mom, and
the words pop out before I can call them back. "How do I join
up?"

 

 

20 - Emily

When I go to her, my mom is attempting
to clean up the three layers of white birthday cake that have been
smashed into one corner of the parquet floor.

"Mom."

She doesn't seem to hear me the first
time, so I call a little louder.

"Mom. Mom!"

When she looks up, her eyes are wide
and panic-filled. She might be in shock or something, but
thankfully, I can see the .44 she used on the vamp earlier sitting
harmlessly next to a plate of empanadas. Far enough away that she
can’t reach it.

"We'll clean it up tomorrow," I tell
her. I take her by the hand, and she must really be out of it,
because she follows me into the house like I'm the grownup and
she's a little kid.

"Uncle Felix will board up the windows.
Brett and I will clean up a little before he goes home."

She “hmms” in what could be agreement,
but she’s mostly silent as I pull her upstairs to her
bedroom.

This door has an industrial lock on
it—it was sort of like the last hold in my dad's defense plans. I
intend to sleep in here with her tonight. For her, not for
me.

"Your party was ruined," she whispers
as I push her down to sit on the edge of the bed.

I can't help the snort of laughter that
escapes. "That's my kind of party," I say.

She has enough gumption to
glare at me, so maybe she's just shocked but not
in shock,
or maybe she's
coming out of it.

"Why did they do that? Attack us
here?"

I shrug. "Maybe they somehow found out
that there would be a big group of Chasers here tonight? Or maybe
one of them got lucky and spotted one of the Chasers coming to the
party."

I go to her chest of drawers and find
her pajamas and that favorite robe she's always wearing. I bring
them to her.

"I saw you fighting," she
says.

"Are you okay?" I ask. "Do you want me
to call a doctor?"

She shakes her head, but her eyes are
dreamy, far off. "You looked like your father. I saw him fight
once. He was fast, like you. And deadly. Like you."

I sit still, on my knees at her feet.
She rarely talks about my dad, and I've never heard her talk about
his fighting.

"It's who we are," I
whisper.

I wish she could understand.

"I don't want you to die like he did,"
she whispers back. Her eyes pool with tears.

And I can't promise her that it won't
happen to me, but I hug her waist. She clings to my shoulders. We
sit that way for awhile, just hugging.

It's been a long time since we've been
this close, this affectionate.

"I can't quit fighting," I tell her as
I ease back.

"I know." She's still got tears in her
eyes, but she dabs at them with a tissue she got from
who-knows-where. Always a lady. "After tonight, I can't ask you to.
I’m...proud of you."

I plop back on my butt, totally
shocked. "You are?"

She nods. "I am. I miss your father,
but...we can't let them win. You can't let them win."

I hug her again. We’re
crying, and I’m even laughing a little. She’s
proud
of me? Wow.

"Are we having a moment?" I ask. Then,
"Am I dreaming?"

"No, dear. And those bloodstains aren't
coming out of that dress."

I look down at myself, at the brown
stains on the pretty taffeta.

"At least your boyfriend doesn't seem
to mind," she says.

I look up at her, a little surprised
that she's brought Brett up. She grins. "He seems good with a
weapon too. Someone who can...how do you say it? 'Have your
back'?"

I laugh at my über-uncool mother trying
to use a slang phrase.

Then I stand up. "Let me check on Uncle
Felix and clean up downstairs a little, then I'll be back. Will you
be okay?"

She nods. "There's another gun in the
nightstand."

Go mom.

 

 

21 - Emily

When I get back downstairs, two of my
cousins are boarding up the windows. Everyone else is
gone.

Except Brett, who waits in the middle
of the deserted outdoor dance floor, one hand in his pocket, the
other hanging at his side. He's ditched his suit coat and tie, and
the way his broad shoulders fill out the white dress shirt makes me
drool, just a little.

BOOK: Rival
8.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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