Read The Turning: Bound to Darkness (Prequel) Page 3

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  Nicholas ran for the staircase, cradling his newborn children between his arms and his sides. Among the screams and chaos his appearance alone created, he ran straight out the exit door, activating the hospital alarm. He did not care; he was determined to get out of the hospital with his babies.

  He collided with a defenseless man just outside the hospital exit and kicked him on the chest, sending him through the air and against a large oak tree. His white lab coat flapped open. He continued to run until he heard the chaos of sirens close in around him. He slowed down as one police car after another slid into place, encircling him.

  In a flash, he was standing in the middle of the street, in the dark of night, surrounded by flashing sirens and glaring police headlights—he blinked and then he was gone. Large claws gripped Nicholas Shelly’s shoulders and lifted him into the air of the dark ominous night. Nicholas tightened his arms around his babies, so tight that he was close to smothering them.

  -1-

  5 years later

  Nicholas leaned his shoulder against the bedroom doorjamb where Apollo and Amaya were sleeping. He watched and admired his children with an overwhelming amount of pride and love—a love that did not require a soul.

  The twins were the result of the love that Nicholas once shared with his wife. His children were a gift. They were a reminder of the moments of perfection he’d shared with her. Whenever he looked at them, he reminisced about his human life.

  Nicholas tried to hold onto those memories with his lovely Victoria. However, with every second that ticked away, he was another memory further from his life with her. His human years were those of the past; they were blurred memories floating below the surface of a river, yet, every once in a while, he would see a glimmer of her. He could see his beloved Victoria in the mannerisms of their twins. In those rare moments, if Nicholas had a beating heart, it would have skipped a beat.

  As he stood in the doorway and stared at his young children, he realized that they would age while he physically remained the twenty-six-year-old man he was just before the attack. What choice did he have but to change his children from human to vampire at the mature age of eighteen?

  Sure, there were vampire customs that he wished he could protect his children from knowing. One of those things was the urge to drink blood or feed on humans. However, he justified his thoughts with one question: what made vampires any different from human beings? People were carnivores. They slaughtered cattle, pigs, chickens for their own consumption. Humans were part of the food chain, too.

  But, he refused to watch his children grow old, wither, and then die while he remained young and strong. Maybe he was being selfish—maybe—but no parent wants to bury a child, not even a vampire parent.

  There were times he missed his human life. During those times, he lived vicariously through his twins. He watched their innocent faces light up when he entered the room. It touched him to see the love that they had for him—love that vampires rarely knew, understood, or even remembered.

  On the night of his vampire birth, Nicholas felt disoriented and clouded by his competing impulses and memories of his human life. However, his fierce, intense lust for blood erased those memories. He was a ball of rage, starving to quench his thirst. A massive amount of strength surged through him like a fireball of anger when he realized he had lost his wife. He was raw, untamed, and destructive. His strength overpowered his body. This was a body he was not familiar with—a body full of adrenaline yet, oddly lifeless.

  That is exactly how Maximiliano found Nicholas: confused and alone, running through the hospital parking lot in Stockwood. Max swooped down, grabbed Nicholas with his sharp claws, and flew him back into the cavern that was nestled in the forest below ground. A few hundred feet from the cave was an old house—the very house in which Nicholas now stood, watching his five-year-old twins sleep.

  Maximiliano granted immediate protection over Nicholas’s children. Of course, such an agreement came with a price. It was a price Nicholas was willing to pay if it meant his children would be safe until they were eighteen. Then he could turn them from human to vampire.

  Even in those first days, when Nicholas fought over his thirst for blood, their beating hearts never tempted him, never made him waver from his role as their father. This was a rarity. It took time for clan members like Ori, Tereq and Fatima to build up a resistance to the smell of the children’s blood. In time, they were all successful in befriending the children and keeping their dark, vampire secret hidden from them.

  Nicholas sensed when Fatima entered the house. Her earthly scent tantalized his hyper vigilant senses. He could hear her light footsteps walk up the stairs toward the children’s bedroom. He imagined her deep blue eyes, long auburn hair and slim body walking up to him. When she stood behind him, he always knew she was there.

  Fatima had been the first to befriend Nicholas after Maximiliano brought him from the hospital to the cavern. Nicholas remembered his first glance at her. She resembled his beloved Victoria. It was because of that close resemblance that he was able to adjust to his life in the clan.

  Fatima had seen many humans turned into vampires in the century that she had walked amongst her peers. When she was attacked and reborn a vampire, she fled her hometown of Portland, Oregon. Instinctively, she ran far away from her five-year-old son and husband in order to spare their lives. She needed answers. She needed to know what or who attacked her. More than that, she needed to know what she had become and why.

  Brokenhearted, she made her way, by night, from Portland toward the northeast through Washington. She kept a low profile below ground, through sewers and in the shadows, only surfacing at night.

  In the beginning, Fatima fed on rodents and small animals, fearful to sink her teeth into the flesh of a human being. But, as time moved forward and the memories of her family began to fade, Fatima began to feed herself with the oozing blood that ran through the veins of mortals.

  When she made it to the outskirts of Washington, she ran into other creatures like herself. Ori, Tereq, and Vasco took her in, taught her how to hunt, and soon allowed her into the Sanguis clan. She has remained a faithful servant and follower of their leader, Maximiliano, for almost 98 years.

  Fatima slid her hands around Nicholas’s waist as she stood next to him, and watched the children sleep. She glanced up at Nicholas’s profile. His neatly cut, jet-black hair cupped around his ears. His strong chiseled jaw and defined nose were secondary to his clenched teeth. She could see the tension in his face, and sensed the unwavering commitment to his children in his eyes.

  She looked toward the bunk bed against the far wall. A single candle flickered in the room, providing enough light to see the children balled up beneath their covers. The top bunk was Apollo’s, and the bottom was Amaya’s bed. Tonight, however, Apollo cuddled with Amaya on the bottom bed.

  Fatima had just fed at the blood bank; therefore, the children’s small beating hearts were not as inviting as they might have been otherwise. She loved Amaya and Apollo as if they were her own children, but at the end of the day, they were human and she was a vampire. Fatima always took precautions before she spent time with them, making sure she was not ravishingly hungry.

  The palm of her hand rested on Nicholas’s back while her thumb moved back and forth in a comforting motion. His tense muscles conveyed the obvious strong emotional conflict he was feeling.

  “You’re worried about Apollo?” Fatima whispered.

  “I am.”

  “You’re worried about his heart.”

  “Yes, listen to it. It’s beating twice as fast as Amaya’s heartbeat.”

  Fatima listened closer. She closed her eyes and focused on Apollo’s heartbeat. “Maybe it’s time for you to run some tests.”

  “No, his heart has always beaten faster than hers. I heard it in the hospital when I pulled him from his bassinet. But, what concerns me is that it beats at double the speed of Amaya’s. Maybe he needs to see a doctor.”<
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  “No, Nicholas. You can run tests from here if you think there might be a problem.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll continue to pay close attention.”

  Fatima rested her head against his chest while they watched the children sleep. The flames of the single candle reflected dancing shadows on the bedroom walls.

  Fatima grinned. “I remember the night when you were brought here. All the Sanguis were angry that humans came to live here with us. We thought it were cruel to dangle them in front of us. But the next memory I have is when Apollo took his first step.”

  Nicholas let out a grunt. “Yeah, and Amaya was angry.”

  Fatima laughed. “She is a competitive one, isn’t she? I think she spent the next three days trying to pull herself up, so she could take her first step.”

  “She hates being in her brother’s shadow. I think she lives by the creed ‘whatever he can do, I can do better.’”

  Fatima sensed his emotional conflict growing stronger.

  “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” Nicholas glanced at her. “I mean turning them when they’re eighteen?”

  “Yes, without a doubt. You have the means to give them eternal life. That’s a gift they will be proud to receive. Plus, you’ve already given your word to Max. You can’t go back on your word.”

  “I know, but I want to do right by my children.”

  “If you kept them human, Nicholas, you’d probably hurt them. You know, Max wouldn’t allow them to leave and risk our exposure.”

  Nicholas nodded.

  “Let’s make that moment special for them, something they’ll look forward to in the future. We can call it a ceremony and allow the clan to witness the event,” Fatima said.

  Nicholas glanced at her. “But, I don’t want them to know what they will become until I’m ready to tell them.”

  “Understood.”

  He leaned over and kissed Fatima’s forehead. “You came to the house to find me. Was there something you needed?”

  “Yes. Maximiliano asked me to bring you back to his lair.”

  “I guess he’s back from his trip then.” Nicholas sighed, “What is it now?”

  Fatima shrugged, “It’s best that we don’t keep him waiting.”

  “Of course not.”

  Nicholas took one last look at the twins. Even though he did not fully understand Maximiliano’s reasons for rescuing them, he was grateful to Max for letting his children remain in the home near the underground cavern. He was even more grateful that Max had cast protection over them from other vampires that roamed the area.

  In thirteen years, his children would become vampires like him. They would be part of the Sanguis clan. As he closed his children’s bedroom door, he thought of that bittersweet day.

  Nicholas wrapped his long fingers around Fatima’s narrow waist. Her long auburn hair flowed loosely down her back, draping over his arm. Side by side, they walked in silence through the front door and out through the forest to the large, thick bush that hid the cave opening.

  The humid sulfuric air from the neighboring volcano hardly masked the smell of bat guano from the elevated pockets of bats. The echoing sounds followed them with each step they took as they descended further underground through the dark labyrinth tunnels. The bottom of the passageway led past the blood bank.

  When Nicholas arrived at Maximiliano’s steel door at the bottom of the stairs, he took a deep breath. He felt Fatima lean in and kiss his arm where she could easily reach before she left him to stand in front of the entrance alone.

  A rancid half-human, half-vampire deformity opened the rasping steel door. Nicholas stepped inside with his bowed head. He stood in front of the raised platform where Max sat in a hand-carved Baroque-style throne. With his arms behind his back and his eyes diverted down, he waited for Maximiliano to address him.

  “Nicholas.” Max’s deep voice echoed through his lair.

  Nicholas raised his head and opened his eyes to meet his leader’s stare. With his hands clasped behind his back, he remarked, “Sire, you sent for me?”

  “How much time does it take the best research scientist in the field of hematology to make what I need? How long have you been working on this, for five years?”

  “I need more time.” He quickly stepped back when his request had an immediate physical effect on Maximiliano.

  Max’s chest rose up and down with an enraged pant. He drew his eyebrows together in frustration, forming two deep lines at the bridge of his slightly crooked nose. In annoyance, his brown eyes clouded black while he peered at his subordinate. His pursed lips hid behind his coarse, yet manicured salt-and-pepper mustache and goatee. However, the hair on his face could not conceal his yellowed upper fangs that extended downward.

  Maximiliano’s translucent pale skin revealed thickening veins that streaked his face. Three deep, long scars were the focal point of his left cheek on an otherwise well-chiseled face. They were scars he had received hundreds of years prior when he had been human.

  Maximiliano fought to control his furious demeanor by suppressing his vampiric facial traits—the dead giveaway of his irritation. He knew he had to change his approach with Nicholas to get his way without unnecessary bloodshed. He stood perfectly still, staring at Nicholas. Maximiliano changed his tone of voice from anger to a more calmed hum. When he spoke, his words were clear and precise.

  “Nicholas, have you forgotten the importance of your project? We want to be prepared should our archenemy attack. We can’t sit back and wait for them. We must be prepared. Find a way to enhance our abilities, and make us more extraordinary than what we already are. I’ll give you what you need. Tell me, how can I help you be more efficient?”

  “Give me time,” Nicholas replied.

  “How much time?”

  “I’m not sure, but I can assure you that this is my priority. I’m missing one key ingredient—an ingredient I’m not familiar with,” Nicholas explained. While he stood in front of Max, one thought raced through his mind repeatedly. I’m not giving you anything until my children are safely turned.

  Maximiliano clicked his fingernails together as he peered down the length of his nose at Nicholas. Then with one quick nod, he motioned for Nicholas to leave.

  -2-

  13 years later

  Apollo keenly lifted his bow and arrow and nuzzled it against his shoulder. His trained, stealth movements gave him the advantage against his prey—a herd of elk that stood several feet away. He inhaled through his nose and quietly exhaled through his mouth, remembering each step that Ori had taught him through the years.

  Apollo’s brown eyes were filled with extreme concentration. His red, tousled hair was wet from perspiration. There was one single drop of under-pressure sweat that ran from his freckled forehead to his red eyebrow. There it sat for a few seconds before it disappeared into the maze of his eyebrow hairs. He wore a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt with a black leather jacket. The weather was cold. Each time he exhaled, a visible stream of moisture floated into the evening air.

  Ori squatted down next to Apollo with his forearms resting on his thighs. He watched Apollo’s movements closely as he ran his hand through his blonde, spiked hair. His baby blue eyes concentrated with almost the same intensity as Apollo’s. Although his features made him look the same age as Apollo, he was actually a two-hundred-year-old vampire. Ori considered Apollo like a brother—albeit a much younger brother.

  During the last days of Ori’s human life, he had planned to grow old with his new bride. However, on their wedding night, while he went outside to fetch some wood for the fireplace, he came face-to-face with a stray vampire. In an effort to protect his bride, Ori had fought his attacker. The vampire had mauled him, and then left him for dead—the living dead, to be exact.

  Today, however, he was Apollo’s mentor. He was like an older brother who had trained Apollo to be the best hunter he could be. Ori knew when the twins turned eighteen, they would become creatures
of the night—a vampire like the rest of the Sanguis clan. He wanted to make sure that both Apollo and Amaya were prepared to take on their new lives as vampires.

  Ori whispered, “You can do it, take your time, Polly. If he senses danger, he’ll run. Everything depends on your ability to blend with the elements.”

  He had trained and watched Apollo target and kill elk since Apollo was eight years old, but this time, Apollo had raised the stakes. Two arrows hoisted onto one bow, each with a designated target area on one elk. Like a game of pool, he had called out where each arrow would land and on which elk he planned to bring down.

  Apollo’s eyes squinted to see through his longer-than-usual red bangs that lay across his eyes. The moon’s glow shined down on the herd, making them easier to see in the dark. He focused on the moment. With his arm extended back, the bow pulled tight, and two arrows positioned just right, he elegantly released them, sending them both through the air, landing directly into the elk’s neck and side. The herd fled in a frantic stampede when their fellow elk collapsed with a thud against the forest ground.

  In his excitement, Apollo allowed the adrenaline to flow through his veins. “Yes! I got him. I nailed him with both arrows right where I said I would.”

  Ori threw his hand up in the air to high-five Apollo. “I told you that it wasn’t hard. All you have to do is become one with the elements.”

  “I can’t wait to show my father. He’ll be proud of me, don’t you think?”

  “Of course, he’ll be proud. But, why did you choose the smallest one?”

  “He wasn’t the smallest.” Apollo pushed Ori.

  “Hell yeah, he was. Look at him.” Ori walked toward the dead animal and stopped a few feet away. “That’s a calf if I ever saw one.”

  Apollo had his arms crossed over his chest, the bow in his hand, while he stared down at the calf. He drew his eyebrows together and pursed his freckled lips. “Well, I couldn’t tell. I don’t have night vision like you. I could barely see the damn thing in the moonlight.”

  Ori grinned. He picked up the 250-pound calf and threw it over his shoulder. “Excuses, excuses, little boy. We should have brought Amaya out here. She may have bagged herself a bigger kill.”

  “Shut up, Ori. No girl is going to do anything better than me,” he said annoyed. “I hit that thing with two arrows at one time and sent them in different directions. Just wait till I’m as strong as you.”

  “Face it, Apollo, you’ll never be as strong as me,” Ori laughed. “But after your ceremony, we’ll teach you the secrets of our skills.” With his fingertips, Ori pushed Apollo to the ground. In a split second, he ran at the speed of light, leaving Apollo alone out in the back part of the forest.

  Apollo shook his head as he stood and swiped at the muddy leaves that clung to his backside. He picked up the quiver that held his arrows and tossed it over his shoulder before he headed back toward the house.

  Apollo stood upright. He felt pride in the achievement of his kill, and he was excited to share the news with his family. But, while he walked back through the forest toward their home, he tossed around two thoughts in his mind: the first was that he hoped to impress his father with his prize kill, and the second was that he would celebrate his eighteenth birthday in three days.

  He knew that would be a monumental day for him and Amaya. They were finally going to have their long-awaited birthday ceremony. This was not going to be just any birthday ceremony. This was going to be their clan initiation ceremony to become Sanguis members. With such a membership, they would be able to attend meetings and work outside their home. At least, that’s what he remembered his father telling him, years ago.

  When Apollo finally made it back to the side door of the old, weathered house, Ori was sitting on the step of the porch, leaning up against the house, pretending to be snoring.

  “Three more days, Ori, just three more days and I will learn how to outrun you.” Apollo tossed a rock at him.

  Ori’s eyes remained closed. He continued to make a snoring sound, but he caught the rock in midair. “It’s going to take more than your initiation to become one of us to make you as good as me, little boy.”

  Before Apollo could retaliate, Amaya swung open the screen door and hopped out onto the porch. She plopped down next to Ori. Her long brown hair hung down her back from the binding of her tight ponytail. The tip of her nose instantly turned red from the cold weather that nipped at her fair skin. Her blue eyes were large and glossy when she glanced at her brother’s sulking face. “Nice baby elk you caught there, Polly,” she laughed when he shot her a frustrated glare.

  Apollo tossed his archery equipment down at her feet. “If you can put an arrow through anything that moves, I’ll clean your room for a week.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And all I have to do is put this pointy thing right here into anything that crawls, runs or flies, and you’ll be my personal servant for a week?”

  Apollo grunted, “I’m so certain you can’t do it, let’s make it two weeks.”

  “Polly, you have no idea how lethal I am with this thing.”

  “Yeah, right, you’ve never even touched it before.”

  “Are you sure about that?” she grinned.

  Ori laughed at the twin’s banter. He felt the pent-up anticipation of how this competition would play out—who was going to be whose servant for a week.

  “Stop laughing, Ori,” Apollo demanded, annoyed.

  Ori threw his hands in the air as if to call a truce. “Listen Amaya, if you think you’re so much better than your brother then prove it. Otherwise, you’re wasting our time.”

  “Yeah, prove it to me, Amaya.”

  Amaya laughed at the two of them daring her to prove her hunting skills. She loved to hunt. Many times when her brother was asleep, she would take his bow and one arrow, and practice on inanimate objects. Apollo knew she could hunt; he just refused to admit that a girl might be better than him.

  “See? She’s all talk, no action.” Apollo reached for his weapon, anxious to take it back from his sister.

  “Back up, Polly, I don’t want you to be the one thing that I stick with the point of my arrow,” she chuckled as she brought the bow up to her petite shoulder and aimed at a tree. “By the way, the bending portion of the bow is a limb, the part I’m holding right here is a handle or grip.” She giggled as she continued to name off parts of the weapon while she aimed at nothing—at least nothing that Apollo could see.

  Her breathing was perfect, her form textbook, and her stance flawless. Her motions were fluid; her sight was set on something specific.

  Ori stood, watching her hold the weapon as if it was an extension of her body. In awe, he walked over and stood next to Apollo. He examined Amaya’s form closely. Ori placed his hand on Apollo’s shoulder. “She’s got it. She’s a natural hunter. Look at her, Polly.”

  Apollo crossed his arms over his chest and snickered to himself. “The only thing she’s going to hit with that arrow—”

  “Quiet, let the girl concentrate,” Ori whispered.

  Amaya was in a trance, the same type of trance she would put herself in when she practiced. She forgot that anyone was around. Her focus was precisely on the target. She pulled the arrow back further, adjusting for its flight through the air, the speed at which she needed it to go, and the wind factor. She released the arrow.

  It flew straight through the air with powerful purpose. When the arrow connected with a tree, Ori ran to Amaya and hugged her. He picked her up and spun her around. “You did it, Maya. You got it.”

  “She got what, the tree? That’s the only thing she connected with.” Apollo sulked, refusing to look at exactly where the arrow landed.

  “Look closer, Polly,” Ori laughed.

  The three of them walked to the tree, and sure enough, the arrow had pierced the heart of a red-breasted nuthatch.

  “Luck, Amaya, that was pure luck,” Apollo grumbled, snatching
his equipment from her hand.

  “Luck or not, you’re my servant for the next two weeks,” Amaya gloated.

  Apollo turned on his heels. He was taking long strides toward the house when Amaya ran and jumped on her brother’s back. She wanted to lighten his mood. She was two inches shorter than he was and petite compared to his larger build. He kept walking, ignoring her as if she were not draping herself on his back. “I’ll race you back to the house,” she whispered in his ear.

  Apollo enjoyed any significant challenge, and Amaya was always the person that seemed to challenge him. He tossed his archery equipment to Ori and unhooked her arms from around his neck. He was ready for the challenge. “Okay, Ori, you tell us when to go.”

  Ori stood in front of them, put his arms up in the air, and whispered toward Apollo, “You better win this one.” Then he swung his arms down, “Go!”

  Apollo toyed with Amaya and then left her far behind him to eat the dust he kicked up. Right before she made it to the finish line, she fell, sliding across the dirt on her knees. She stood up and limped toward the porch. When her brother ran to her side to make sure she was okay, she slapped him on the arm. “You didn’t have to beat me that badly.”

  Apollo reached over and gave his sister a strong hug. As he glanced down at her scraped knee, there was no sign of blood.

  “What’s going on out here?” Nicholas asked from inside the house, behind the screen door.

  “Father.” The twins ran to Nicholas and gave him a hug.

  “Father, I killed an elk today. I used two arrows on my bow. Both arrows hit the animal and brought it down.”

  Nicholas was an authoritarian—a man of few words. He rarely praised the twins on their accomplishments. Even knowing how he was, they still yearned for his recognition. Apollo began to relate his proud moment.

  “Come, I’ll show you where it happened.”

  “I can’t right now. I’m only here for a few minutes to visit you two.”

  “Can you stay and eat with us tonight, just this once?” Apollo asked.

  “Not tonight. This night is no different from any other time. In a few days, all of that will change.”

  Nicholas brushed off the conversation as he usually did when it came to what they ate—or drank for that matter. He kept the twins sheltered from much of what the Sanguis were. Apollo and Amaya knew the Sanguis were stronger, faster people. They found the clan’s extraordinary abilities attractive and exciting, but they did not know what they would become in three days.

  Fatima stood at the side door and called the twins in for dinner from behind the closed screen. They moved quickly into the warm house, where Fatima had cooked a large pot of rice and beans over a wood-burning stove. Ori sat at the square, light oak table with the twins. An extremely thick, beige candle sat in the middle of the table, which provided enough light so that everyone could enjoy the kitchen. They talked about both Apollo and Amaya’s kill.

  “You two know that this is your last meal before your three-day fast?” Fatima asked.

  “No food for three days? That seems barbaric to me. I’m hungry every hour, and now I can’t eat for three days?” Apollo mumbled.

  “Father said it was part of our initiation ritual to become Sanguis,” Amaya reminded her brother.

  “I know.” He shoveled a combination of rice and beans into his mouth. “I’m just messing around.”

  “Children, I have to go back to my lab.” Nicholas hugged both his kids. “I’ll come back in two hours to say goodnight to you both.”

  Once Nicholas had left the room, Ori looked at the twins. “I’m going, too. I need to find Tereq, so we can hunt.”

  “Can I go with you?” Apollo asked.

  “Sorry, buddy, we’re not hunting elk tonight. This time, we’re hunting tourists.” Without thinking twice, Ori left the room before anyone could comment.

  Fatima rolled her eyes at Ori in disbelief at how careless he was about the intent of their hunting expedition.

  Apollo shrugged. “Whatever that means.”

  Fatima glanced at the twins from the kitchen sink where she finished washing the cooking utensils. “No food for the next three days. You can have water, but that’s it. And you might want to save your energy for the initiation ritual,” Fatima said as she put away the clean dishes. “Also, don’t forget that Ms. Beasley said she will leave your final exam scores in an envelope at the front door tomorrow morning.”

  “I’m so happy that dreaded tutoring is over,” Amaya sighed.

  “Are we going to celebrate in the morning when we find out that we passed? Or do we have to wait until you get home from work?” Apollo asked.

  It surprised Fatima that the small group of vampires that Apollo and Amaya interacted with, on a regular basis, was able to keep the lie of their whereabouts from the twins all these years. While they thought that their family was out working during the day, they were sleeping, hidden in the caverns below.

  Nicholas had hired Ms. Beasley to look after his children while he slept during the day. She arrived at sunrise and Nicholas instructed her to leave just before sundown.

  Although Ms. Beasley did not understand the popular modern mentality of having kids raised by a babysitter, she appreciated the work and the paycheck. It was because of that appreciation that she never asked questions.

  “We’ll be here to congratulate you when we get home from work,” Fatima mentioned as she hugged the kids and excused herself from the room.

  Apollo stood up from the table. “Okay, I want you to show me how in the heck you pinned a bird to a tree from such a distance away. Because, there is no way my sister is going to be better than me at hunting.”

  “Too late.” She hit Apollo in the face with a cloth that was on the table near her. She got up and ran from the table as Apollo chased her outside.

  “That was just a lucky shot!” Apollo yelled.

  -3-

  Later that evening, Nicholas found his children in Apollo’s candlelit room. A cluster of five large pillar candles sat together on his desk, dripping wax down the side. Amaya stood next to his bed near the bedroom door, wielding a homemade wooden sword in the air against an imaginary opponent. Apollo was lying on his stomach on the hardwood floor next to his desk, with a candle on the ground in front of his paper. He was using charcoal to sketch a drawing in a sketchpad that Ms. Beasley had given to him.

  “It’s time for sleep. You must be well-rested for the grueling days ahead,” Nicholas said firmly. He walked over and took the sword from Amaya. “Now get some sleep; you have a long day tomorrow.”

  Amaya hugged her father and said good night before she left to her room. She heard her father’s footsteps fade as he walked toward the staircase that led to the downstairs foyer and front door.

  Amaya lay in her bed, but she could not sleep. She felt tired, but her mind replayed the highlight of her day—her proud kill. All she could think of was the adrenaline rush when she saw that bird pinned to the tree. And, of course, that she’d beat her brother in the bet.

  After tossing and turning for a while, she decided to spend her time perfecting her skills. She knew how protective he was with his archery equipment, but that did not keep her from wanting to use it—even without his permission.

  Amaya jumped out of bed and headed toward his room. She opened his door and tiptoed inside. She approached him cautiously and peeked at him to see that he was asleep. Suddenly, Apollo shifted his sleeping position and turned his back to her. She held her breath and froze. She was determined to get what she came for.

  She lifted his bow from the bed’s corner post near his head where he always kept it. She also slid two arrows from the quiver that tilted against Apollo’s twin bed. Then, she quietly slipped out his bedroom door, feeling relief that she did not wake him.

  Amaya sprinted down the stairs to the front door. She reached into a drawer of a desk near the entrance, grabbed matches and the oil lamp that sat on top of the desk. She lit the lamp before she
opened the front door. She stepped out into the beautiful, cold night and closed the door behind her. Once outside, she pulled her trench coat tighter around her and shivered in the frigid air.

  She needed to find a location where the trees were sparse, and the bright moon could provide enough light for her to see comfortably. After she navigated through the forest for a while, she realized that she had wandered further than she should have. But, in her search, she found a mountainside area that caught her eye as the perfect location to practice.

  An oak tree nestled behind a mound of thick bushes became her target. She aimed and shot, hitting the tree trunk slightly to the left.

  Amaya grabbed the other arrow. She pulled it back on the bow and aimed, concentrating a bit harder on hitting the same tree in the middle of its trunk. This time, when she released the arrow, a slight breeze grabbed hold of it, and pushed it where it fell somewhere past the tree on the ground.

  “Oh shoot, really?” she whispered. “Apollo will kill me if I lose one of his damn arrows.”

  Amaya sighed. She grabbed her oil lamp and walked toward the tree with one thought on her mind: to recover the arrow. The closer she got to the tree, the rockier the ground became, and before she knew it, she was standing in front of a large hedge. The shrubbery was thick. Amaya lowered and raised her lamp to see inside of the massive rock formation and shrubbery, but saw no arrow. She moved branches aside as she was desperate to find her brother’s arrow, but it was impossible to see into the shrubbery, even with the lamp. Amaya kneeled down and slipped her open hand under the thicket. She anxiously patted the ground. Instead of finding the arrow, she found a clear, yet strange, open space. Amaya pulled her hand out and contemplated the next logical spot the arrow could have gone.

  Amaya’s adventurous attitude could not resist the temptation of crawling through the open space. She reached back under and lifted her hand to try to pull the branches apart. She pulled open just enough branches to slide in and crawl through to the other side of the shrubbery. Amaya poked her head out to take a glance at her surroundings.

  When she felt it was safe, she stood. The ground was rocky and uneven. Large boulders lined the area along the open space. Someone had pushed the boulders neatly away from what seemed like a pathway entrance on the side of the mountain.

  The discovery of that place left an eerie feeling in the pit of her stomach. I need to find that darn arrow and get outta here. She raised and lowered her lamp to get a clearer look, but it was hopeless.

  Suddenly, she heard a loud thud that came from the opening in the side of the mountain. She quickly peered in that direction and reconsidered whether or not it was a good idea to have come so far. She pulled her coat tighter around her, and continued her exploration in the direction of the entrance, despite her initial thought to flee.

  Amaya scanned the interior as far as her lamp would allow her to see without having to step inside. Her heart pounded rapidly against her chest as her mind raced with uncertainty. Should she go in or get out of there? She was conflicted yet inquisitive.

  Finally, her curiosity won over her indecision. She had forgotten about her brother’s arrows. She stepped inside the opening and slowly tried to navigate over the rocky ground. The opening of the cave was tubular, deep, and large. A glowing fungus covered the cave walls. A dripping noise echoed through the cave, which had a smell of stale water.

  She realized that someone must be inside. Someone had to have been through there for it to look the way it did. She crept further into the cave toward the flickering of a candle that illuminated the jagged stony walls. She was careful not to step between unstable rocks. Candles on the wall? There is something in this place. Her mind raced.

  The further into the cave she went, the more the tubular entrance began to widen. She glanced to her right where she noticed another entrance to a black tunnel. Her fear was not enough to make her turn back. She swallowed against the fear that was rising in her throat and continued toward the flickering light. Her breathing was deep and slow, and her shaky hand wrapped tightly around the lamp’s handle. Amaya could hear the pounding of her heart in her own ears.

  With her next step, she noticed a smoother surface under her feet. The rock was less stringent, yet the cave walls were still rough and uneven. The cave curved to her left. When she looked back at the cave opening, she realized that she was losing sight of the entrance. Amaya paused for a moment and glanced around her immediate surroundings.

  Suddenly, without a hint, a shadow of what appeared to be a tall, human-shaped body glided across the wall. A yelp left her lips as she turned and ran back toward the cave opening. Her feet fumbled on the uneven ground. Fear raced through her mind. She felt the hairs rise on her arms at the thought that something was following close behind her. She wanted to scream.

  Finally, she ran out into the crisp air and straight toward the bushes where she had come through. She let go of the lamp and slid her body under the shrubbery as fast as she could. A branch caught her jacket by the sleeve. She yanked and tugged until she eventually gave up and slid her arms out of her jacket. She left the lamp behind, along with her brother’s bow and arrow. She stumbled to her feet and took off empty-handed in flight toward the house.

  Amaya threw open the front door and rushed up the stairs toward her brother’s room. Breathless and full of fear, she woke Apollo to tell him about the hidden cave.

  -4-

  ”Apollo, wake up.” Amaya shook her twin brother. She pulled his pillow out from under his head and tossed it to the floor. “Apollo, please get up!”

  “What? What?” he yelled, pulling the brown wool blanket over his head. “What are you doing in my room?”

  “Get up. You have to see this. Something is wrong.”

  “I don’t have to see anything. Can’t a guy get some rest around here?”

  “C’mon, Apollo, please? It’s important,” she begged. “There’s something outside that you have to see.”

  “Amaya, I’m sleepy, and you’re begging me to follow you on one of your childish adventures again. Leave me alone.”

  “Polly, this isn’t an adventure. You have to see this, damn it. Listen to me!” she yelled.

  Apollo lifted his head and looked at his sister’s anguished face. He heard a different tone in her voice, one he was not used to hearing from her. She was frantic. He knew something had disturbed her.

  “What’s wrong? What is it?” he sat up quickly, taking one of her hands in his, and wrapping his other hand around her arm. He could feel her body trembling.

  “Something’s wrong, Polly, something awful,” she blurted. Her sea-blue eyes stared at him behind a pool of tears that threatened to stream down her pale face.

  “Slow down and tell me from the beginning.”

  “Okay . . . Okay . . . I couldn’t sleep, so I went outside. There was a cave behind some bushes, and there was something in there.”

  “A cave?”

  “Polly, I’ll show you. Please come with me.” She threw her hands on his shoulders gripping her nails into his skin. “Maybe it was a. . . Yeah, that’s what it was, Polly. I think I saw a Sombra. I saw the shadow of a Sombra.”

  Apollo pried her fingers from his shoulders and took her hands into his again, “Breathe, Maya.” He took deep breaths, trying to get her to follow suit. He needed her to calm down before he could understand what she was trying to tell him.

  “Remember the stories that Tereq told us of the Sombras?” she asked.

  “Tereq was being a jerk. They were only stories to scare us away from the mountain. Trust me, there is no such thing. Don’t you think Father would have told us if something like that existed?”

  Amaya nodded. She tried to keep her bottom lip from trembling. She inhaled deep before she leaned in and hugged her brother. She always felt a sense of comfort in her brother’s arms. Maybe it was a twin thing, or maybe it was because they had only spent time with each other growing up. But one thing was for sure, he was more than
her brother: he was also her best friend.

  Apollo held her in his arms and waited patiently for her to calm down.

  “Let me get dressed and then you can show me.” He walked across the cold hardwood floor in his bare feet. The creaking sound echoed in his room when the weight of his footsteps pressed down on the old, dull floorboards.

  Apollo opened his closet drape and pulled out a pair of tattered jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt. He glanced over at his sister, “It’ll be okay, Amaya, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  Amaya nodded, wiping at the tears that were rolling down her face. She took a deep breath and mentally told herself to toughen up. She wanted to be the warrior that Ori had taught her to be.

  When Apollo was ready to go, Amaya led him down the squeaky, narrow staircase and onto the battered foyer just before the front door.

  She led Apollo outside into the night. Amaya followed the same route she had taken an hour prior. As she got closer to the area, she had found earlier, her pace slowed down.

  “Amaya, where are we going?”

  “Through those bushes.” Amaya pointed to an area with bushes clustered together, just beyond the oak tree.

  “How did you find this place? What were you doing here?”

  “I was practicing with your bow until one of the arrows got lost in those bushes. I went in to get it.”

  “What?” Apollo yelled, “Did you take my bow? Where is it?”

  “I’m sorry. I was going to bring it back.”

  Apollo moved some leaves aside from the bush. “Look, I see your jacket.” Apollo pulled her jacket out. “There they are. I found my bow and one arrow.” Apollo was relieved to have found his archery equipment.

  He was almost as happy as the day he’d first discovered the weapon in their weathered house. The curious eight-year-old had found the hidden trove underneath a squeaky floorboard in his bedroom. It was an exciting find that had included someone’s journal, metal arrowheads and anatomy sketches.

  Apollo kept everything a secret, except for the archery equipment. His father had allowed him to keep it with the condition that he would accept Ori’s instruction. Over nine years of ownership, he’d never lost an arrow—until now. Thanks to Amaya.

  “Maybe this is a bad idea. Let’s come back in the morning.” Amaya trembled.

  “You dragged me out here into this freezing weather, because you were scared. We’re not leaving.”

  “This is a bad idea. I’m going back.” She turned to leave.

  “Amaya!”

  She stopped with her back to him.

  “Let’s just check this out, okay?”

  Amaya lifted her head. Her curiosity vacillated with her fear. Against her better judgment, she nodded and walked close behind him.

  Apollo positioned his bow and arrow up to his shoulder, ready to shoot whatever moved in the shrubbery.

  Amaya pulled open the leaf-covered branches, and Apollo got down on his knees to maneuver under the bush. He turned around, and helped Amaya stand up in the open space.

  “You came in here tonight by yourself?” Apollo scornfully questioned.

  “I didn’t know this was going to be here. I was trying to get the arrow,” she whispered.

  “At least you brought a lamp with you. This is yours, right?” Apollo picked up the dimmed oil lamp that sat upright on the ground.

  Amaya took the lamp from him.

  The opening to the cave was dark—so dark, they could not see in front of them. Amaya held up the lamp in an attempt to see further down. Deep into the mouth of the cave was the same flickering light that Amaya had seen earlier, with its eerie glimmers of shadows dancing on the stone walls.

  They were both breathing hard, completely on edge with fear, but their curiosity was what kept them both moving forward. With one foot in front of the next, they were careful not to make a noise.

  Apollo lifted the bow to his shoulder again while Amaya gripped his t-shirt. Their ankles were shaky as each step they took landed on an uneven surface. Apollo slid his shoulder along the cave wall to support himself in case he lost his balance.

  They were now as far into the cave as Amaya was before she had run out. The smell was rancid. The echoing of dripping water surrounded them. The air was thick and made it hard to breathe.

  Amaya yanked at Apollo’s shirt. When he turned to look at her, she pointed toward the right. Another opening had a candelabra firmly mounted to a smoother surface on the wall. Apollo swallowed loudly. He led Amaya in that direction, holding the bow white-knuckle tight.

  When the light from the lamp caught a rodent running across the floor, Amaya yelped and jumped, making Apollo jump. He released the arrow into the spine of the rodent. The small creature instantly died.

  “Don’t do that,” he whispered angrily.

  “I didn’t mean to, it came out of nowhere and scared me.”

  “We have one arrow with us, and we don’t need it stuck in the back of a vermin.” He stepped down on the small animal and yanked the arrow from its body.

  They continued to move deeper into the cavity of the mountain. Within one step, Apollo’s foot felt the ground change from unstable to a smoother surface. He placed his back along the wall while Amaya gripped his bicep tightly.

  “Hold the lamp down. I want to see what we’re stepping on.”

  Amaya flashed the light down toward the ground. The stone was hand carved to create steps that plunged them further into the hollow.

  “Someone carved out steps from the rock. Look at them, they’re meant to be steps that will take us further down.” He pointed. “Flash the light down there, so we can see.”

  “We can’t see anything. This light isn’t bright enough, and the candles aren’t giving off enough light.”

  “Amaya, look,” Apollo moved his back away from the wall. “It’s smoother here, too. My back was just against sharp rocks, but the texture has changed.”

  “I can see it. So, something is living down here.”

  “Let’s keep going.” When Apollo glanced down to the fourth step, he flung the palm of his hand up to stop Amaya. He squatted down and ran his fingers over a liquid substance that had formed a puddle on the carved stair.

  Apollo lifted the sticky substance to his nose and smelled the tang of blood. He stared at the brownish-red liquid that shimmered under the light. The wet blood began to dry fast on his fingertips. He swiped his hand along the ground to remove the blood from his fingers.

  He slowly stood, lifted his bow and arrow again and held it in front of him. “You were right,” he mumbled, barely letting the sound leave his lips. “Maybe there is a Sombra down here.”

  “I knew it! We should get Ori or Father. If something happens to us, no one will know we’re down here.” Amaya moved closer to her brother. She wrapped both hands around his arm to keep him close.

  Apollo glanced at her. He contemplated her suggestion. He stared into her eyes and knew she was right, they should get someone, but what kind of hunter would he be if he ran for help? “You go back. I’ll check it out.”

  “No, I’m not leaving you down here by yourself.”

  “Okay, but at the first sign of danger, we get the hell out of here. Deal?”

  Amaya nodded against her better judgment. She was not sure what they would find below ground in a cave that had several mounted candelabra holders along the walls. Whatever it was, this was its home, and they were intruding.

  Apollo continued down the steps one at a time. His heart was racing with adrenaline. At the bottom of the stairs, he noticed a door—a metal door welded to the sides of a carved-out doorframe. Where the doorknob should have been, there was a one-inch circular glow.

  Apollo leaned down and put his eye to the hole. He sucked in his breath, reached for Amaya’s hand as he gazed through to the other side of the door. After several seconds, he stood up quickly, pressing his back against the wall next to the door.

  “What?” she silently mouthed.

 
Apollo was shaking his head, his eyes were wide, and he tried to breathe quietly. His chest was heaving up and down with the air he was trying to pull into his lungs.

  Amaya moved to peer in the hole in the door, but Apollo held her arm to stop her. She yanked her arm from his grip and bent over to look through the hole. She could feel the screams wanting to escape from her lips, but her hand covered her mouth and muffled her cries.

  On the other side of the door was a candlelit room. There were naked people chained to the walls, and creatures latched to their necks. Some people appeared semiconscious and had two creatures latched to them—one to their neck and another to a leg or arm.

  The room reeked of blood, vomit and feces. No one was screaming. Their moans seemed weak and feeble. Most of the people seemed to be barely holding on to life. They were thin and drained of their essence. To the far right, Amaya could see a man and woman with more spunk. The creatures had their hands over the man and woman’s mouths while they latched themselves onto the humans’ necks. The look in their eyes horrified Amaya.

  In the center of the room, two beastly looking creatures played tug-of-war with a little girl. One had a grip on her arm and the other had gripped her leg. She was dead, but that did not matter when Amaya saw them rip her apart with ease.

  Tears streamed down Amaya’s face as she witnessed the girl’s innards slap against the ground. She could not breathe, she could not catch her breath against the horror she was witnessing. When she had raised her eyes to the far right along the wall, before she pulled herself away from the hole, she saw something that made her fall to her knees on the rock floor. She looked over at Apollo, whose face was wet with tears, and out of nowhere, she leaned to her right and began to vomit.

  Apollo grabbed his sister and helped her to her feet. He feared the sound of her puking would draw attention to them at the door. To their right and left were tunnels. Apollo did not want to take a chance; he decided they would go back the same way they came.

  He helped Amaya quickly make her way up the stairs and outside the cave. They ran past the clearing, under the bushes and outside to the open forest. They ran far enough away from the cave when Apollo found a massive tree trunk. He pressed his back against it. Amaya was right behind him.

  -5-

  Apollo slid down the tree trunk onto his butt and buried his face into his hands. Amaya knelt down in the dirt next to Apollo and wiped the tears that streamed down her face. They trembled out of horror, fear, and disgust. It took several minutes for both of them to catch their breath before they said anything to one another.

  “Did you see him?” Amaya asked.

  Apollo nodded but still could not speak.

  “Father was eating those people!” Amaya exclaimed.

  “No, no, no. . . There’s an explanation for this. There has to be.” Apollo stood and paced, running his hands through his red hair. “Why? Why would he be there?”

  “Maybe he was helping those people.” Amaya stood up and went to her brother to give him a hug.

  He pushed her away while his mind tried to process everything that had just happened. “Maybe that’s his lab. Could that be Father’s lab? Maybe he was helping them with a blood disease or something.”

  “Right, that has to be it. Those people were diseased, and father was trying to help them. But. . .”

  “But what?” Apollo shot at her.

  “What about the little girl?”

  “The one that was lying on the ground in the center of the room?”

  “I saw her torn apart by some ugly-looking things.” Amaya cupped her hand back over her mouth.

  “The only way we’re going to get to the bottom of this is to ask Father.” Apollo grabbed Amaya’s hand and started toward the house.

  A gust of wind stopped them both in their tracks. One second they were alone in the forest, and the next, Tereq was standing in front of them. His arms crossed over his chest, his dark brown, short hair was ruffled, and his thick eyebrows formed a V at the bridge of his nose. “Where are you two going?” Tereq asked.

  “Don’t do that, Tereq. You scared us,” Apollo said gruffly.

  “Why are you two out here?”

  “Amaya found a cave, and we were exploring.”

  Tereq moved closer to them, his black trench coat flapped in the wind caused by his quick movements. He pressed his hand against Apollo’s chest to stop him. “What did you see?”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Apollo remarked, pushing Tereq’s hand away from him.

  Tereq pushed his palm against Apollo’s chest. The strength within that light push sent Apollo flying backward through the air onto his back.

  “Tereq, what are you doing?” Amaya yelled.

  “I want to know what you two saw in the cave.”

  “We saw diseased people chained to walls, and Father was there trying to help them,” Amaya said.

  “Yes, of course that’s what you two would have seen. You are fucking naïve, children! Open your eyes to what is around you. Do you think it’s normal that you’re stuck in the woods, in a house where there are no other kids like you?”

  Apollo and Amaya stared at Tereq, listening to his disturbing and shocking words. “We asked Father about that years ago, and he told us that it was to protect us,” Apollo mumbled.

  “Protect you from what? You believe everything your father tells you, and we cater to your pansy, human asses, pretending to be something we’re not. You should know what we really are.”

  “Really are?” Amaya asked.

  Tereq shook his head and started to pace. His youthful-looking face showed signs of disgust. “You’re telling me that you two haven’t put anything together yet? Where’s everyone during the day?”

  “My father’s at work. What he does is important.” Amaya stepped closer to Apollo.

  “His work is important to Max and Max alone.”

  “I’ve heard enough.” Apollo grabbed Amaya’s hand and started to walk around Tereq again.

  Tereq’s posture changed. His shoulders rounded, his eyes changed from brown to solid black, fangs extended from his mouth, and his eyebrows formed an extended ridge across his forehead. His fingers grew longer; his nails were black and sharp.

  Amaya jumped toward Apollo’s arms while Apollo stepped back, tripping over Amaya and sending them both to the ground.

  Apollo quickly stood, pulling Amaya up with him. “What in the hell are you?”

  Tereq’s voice was deeper, and it grumbled when he spoke, “Finally, I no longer have to walk around here on pins and needles because the pathetic humans can’t know what we are. We, Sanguis, are all vampires.”

  Tereq circled around the twins as he glared at them with his beady eyes and distorted features.

  “Bullshit!” Apollo yelled.

  “In a couple days, you’ll be one of us, too,” he growled.

  “My father won’t allow you to turn us into one of you,” Apollo said fiercely.

  “TEREQ!” a bellowing voice echoed through the forest on the other side of the tree. Nicholas came out from the shadows and stood between them.

  “Switch back, now!” Nicholas commanded.

  “I’ve concealed who I am for eighteen years. This is my home, Nicholas. It’s been my home long before it was yours. How long can one stand to be what they’re not?” Tereq stepped back, ready to defend himself.

  “You have broken the agreement that I have with Maximiliano. You and the others are bound by that agreement.”

  “An agreement that means nothing to me. Max is the one building the army; Max is the one who wants to have super strength,” he growled through his fangs as he paced back and forth. “All I want is to be me in my own home.”

  “You have the caverns to be yourself. You were specifically told not to turn in front of my children.”

  “You should be thanking me. I did you a favor. Now they know what you’ve destined them to become.”

  “Max will arrive tomorrow night. He’
ll be informed that you have disobeyed his order,” Nicholas growled back, trying to stay in human form.

  Tereq released his vampire appearance and turned back into his human, physical guise. “You tell him, and he’ll kill me.”

  “So be it.”

  “No, Father. . .” Amaya ran to her father’s side. She was terrified from the events she had witnessed and yet she was still able to feel sympathy after hearing Tereq’s plea. “We’re fine. No one has to get hurt.”

  Nicholas looked into his daughter’s deep-blue eyes. Just for a moment, he was able to bask in her goodness before he focused his glare back at Tereq. “Get the fuck out of here. If you ever get in my way again, you won’t be so lucky.”

  Tereq nodded toward Amaya before he jumped up into the trees and flew across them. He left without saying another word.

  Nicholas looked over at his son and reached his hand out to him. “Come here, Son. I think we need to talk.”

  “Are you one of them?” Apollo questioned.

  Nicholas nodded.

  “Then you can talk to me from there.”

  “Apollo, this is Father,” Amaya pleaded.

  Apollo leaned down and picked up the bow and arrow on the ground. He then crossed his arms over his chest and stared at his father. “Is that our fate in three days?”

  “Yes,” Nicholas said sternly.

  “You’ve decided to turn us into creatures without even consulting with us?”

  “Your future was determined the day you were born.”

  “The same day you were attacked by wild animals?” Apollo asked sarcastically.

  Nicholas did not respond. He stared intently at his son. He knew that he was now putting everything together from his past.

  “But it wasn’t wild animals, Father. It was a pack of vampires, was it not? Was it Max and Vasco?”

  Nicholas could feel his blood boil with rage. His son was being disrespectful. He realized that this moment was long overdue. He needed to reveal the truth, the truth about who he was and what they were to become. Nicholas took a step toward Apollo to close the gap between the three of them.

  Apollo lifted his bow and arrow, pulling the arrow back taught, aiming it at his father’s heart. “Close enough.”

  “Put the arrow down, Apollo!” Amaya screamed.

  “I want my questions answered first, please.” Apollo shook his head, frustrated with himself for pleading with his father. He deserved these answers and he wanted them without getting emotional.

  “It was a clan of vampires that passed through this area that attacked your mother and me. Your mum was eight months pregnant with you and Amaya.”

  “How did you end up here, then?”

  “I was at the hospital with you both in my arms. Max knew there had been an attack. He did not want to draw attention to their existence with the locals. Remaining clandestine is important to a vampire’s survival. Max heard the commotion at the hospital, and when he saw the police surround me in the middle of the street, helpless, he swooped down, grabbed us, and brought us here.”

  Apollo lowered his weapon. He glared at his father while he set up his next question. “Why did you destine us to become one of those things?”

  “Apollo, I brought human babies with me back to a lair of vampires. I had to negotiate terms with the clan in an attempt to spare both your lives.” Nicholas glanced over at Amaya and then back at his son.

  “And your negotiations included keeping us human until we were eighteen and then turning us into vampires, right?” Apollo demanded.

  “Yes, that is correct.”

  “What did Maximiliano get?” Apollo snidely asked.

  “I agreed to continue research on a serum he feels he needs. He already had a lab. Apparently, it is something he had been working on for centuries with the help of other scientists and doctors, but to no avail.”

  Apollo snickered. He paced from side to side while he kept his eyes on his father. After mere seconds, he looked at his sister. “Amaya, come with me.”

  “No! I want to stay with Papa,” she hissed.

  Nicholas leaned in and hugged his daughter. “Amaya, go with your brother. We need to make him feel comfortable with all of this.”

  Amaya hesitated, looking up at her father. She did not care what he was, she knew him as her father and that was all that mattered to her. To please him, she gave him a hug and walked toward her twin brother.

  “Do you love us, Papa?” Apollo asked.

  Nicholas stood shocked. He had not heard his son call him Papa since he was a young boy. The moment was bittersweet. “More than anything, Son.”

  “Yet, you sold us into an eternal life of slavery and bondage.”

  “It’s not like that, Apollo. I had just lost your mother. My human life was gone, and you both were innocent babies. I was doing what I could do in order to keep you alive.”

  “Only to kill us eighteen years later?”

  “No, on the contrary, I’m giving you eternal life.”

  “That is not life, Father! It’s death.” Apollo’s emotions of anger, fear, and shock struggled for a release. Tears welled up in his eyes. He did not understand how someone who claimed to love him could do this to him.

  “What should I have done? Tell me.”

  “I don’t know, left us at the hospital? Give us to someone? I don’t know, but we don’t want to become what you are.”

  Amaya stepped away from her brother. Her hands clasped in front of her, and her heart pounding out of control.

  “Amaya? What are you doing? Don’t tell me that you want to become a vampire.”

  “I don’t know, Apollo, but I don’t want you to make my decisions for me, either.”

  Apollo nodded his head, dropped the bow and arrow to his side and looked at his sister, disappointed. “They’re dead, Maya. They are dead! Do you hear me?” he shouted.

  “How do you know they’re dead? Father is not dead, Apollo, he is very much alive. So, how do you know so much about them?”

  “Books; I found sketches and books about vampires in the same place I found this.” He lifted the archery equipment. “The person who lived here knew a lot, he even wrote in a journal, Maya. You don’t want to know what they are capable of.”

  “Son . . .”

  Apollo lifted his hand with the bow and arrow and pointed at his father. “Stay away from me. You sold my soul without my consent.” Apollo dropped his arm and tilted his head, looking at his father’s disappointed face. Apollo’s questions had been answered, but he still felt betrayed. He felt a sense of betrayal by the entire clan of vampires he knew as his family.

  “Why, Father, why?” One by one, hurtful tears rolled down his face. He looked from Nicholas to Amaya. The pain on his face was unbearable for Amaya to see. She went to hug him, but he sidestepped her embrace and ran off into the forest toward the house.

  “Father?” Amaya pleaded.

  “Just let him go. He needs time to blow off some steam, but don’t worry, he’ll come around. He’ll realize that I did this out of love.”

  -6-

  Apollo’s mind raced with thoughts of his father, sister, and the confrontation between the three of them. His mind moved with the same speed that he used to run through the dense forest. When his legs were heavy, and his mind numb, he slowed down to a brisk jog until he found a massive rock to rest upon.

  With his breathing labored and his heart beating like a paddle ball, Apollo knelt in front of the rock, rested his head on his arms, and sobbed. He sobbed from deep within. He felt betrayed, he felt alone. Even Amaya had let him stand alone on the ledge of self-preservation. At that moment, he felt nothing but abandoned.

  Once his tears had washed away the initial shock of his firm stance, he sat down on the edge of the boulder. He wondered where he was in the forest. He had never ventured out alone, and never this far.

  Where am I? He thought. Where do I go from here?

  Apollo closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and exhaled slo
wly. He tried to steady his pulse, and level out his adrenaline. He needed to make sense of the mess that his life had become.

  His training with Ori had given him skills he’d never realized he would use. But today, he needed everything he knew to stay alive and keep moving forward. He had to get out from the grips of his father—and his father’s agreement with Max. After all, didn’t he have the right to choose his own fate?

  When the pounding of his heart settled, and his breathing slowed, Apollo thought of one thing and one thing only: his sister. He had left her there alone. He’d run away, acting without thinking, acting out of anger and frustration, fear and disgust.

  His heart ached at the thought that he’d let her down so easily. He had been a coward when he should have been brave; he had showed weakness when he should have been strong; he had left when he should have stayed.

  Could he go back? Could he turn around and right the wrong he had done to her? Did he want to go back? Apollo allowed thoughts to pervade his common sense. He needed to clear his mind of the chaos in order to see the entire picture and to make the right decision.

  He was determined to put an end to his grief, so he turned to the one person he could talk to—the one person who heard his every indecision, every uncertainty, and every concern he ever had—his mum.

  Although he had never met her when she was alive, he took comfort in knowing that she would appear to him when he called to her. She would help when he needed her.

  He had instinctively known of her presence since he was a boy. He did not find it strange that she would appear to him. Fatima chuckled whenever he told her that his mummy came to play. What Fatima did not realize was that little Polly was being serious.

  As Apollo grew, he did not grow out of his private conversations with his mother—he just hid them better. It was not because he feared ridicule or wondered if others would consider him crazy; his time with his mother was precious. He guarded the precious gift like a pearl of great price—a gift he kept from everyone, even Amaya.

  During his teenage years, he often thought she was a figment of his imagination. All the same, he did not waste time doubting himself—or her—for fear he would lose her if he did. She was his mother and, many times, his voice of reason.

  His body temperature was returning to normal, making the frigid air of Stockwood, Washington, intolerable to his exposed skin. The howling wind echoed through the rattling trees, sending a shiver down his spine. He tried to see past the darkness, but he could barely see anything in front of him. He chose to ignore the cold. He closed his eyes and let his other senses take over.

  “Mum, I know you’re out there somewhere, watching over me. I wish you would help guide me in the decisions I have to make. Father is not who you married. He’s a grotesque beast that feeds on humans . . . and Mum, he wants to turn Amaya and me into his kind.”

  “Apollo,” her voice was melodic and soft, like a gentle summer breeze.

  Apollo felt the familiar warmth wash over him. He always became unaware of his surroundings when he was in the presence of the spirit of his mother. When he looked up, he saw her beautiful red hair, her milky-white skin, and endearing eyes. She was a translucent version of her live self. Nevertheless, Apollo could see every detail of her beautiful face. He could even see the warmth in her brown eyes.

  “Mum,” he whispered, with a mix of comfort and despair. He had so many conflicting feelings, but he was so glad she appeared to help him. He quickly looked behind him for that rock to sit on. He sat, hardly taking his eyes off her.

  “I’ve missed you, Son.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, Mum. I love you so much.”

  “And I, you,” she replied with an almost overwhelming amount of love in her voice. She beamed with joy, giving her face a fairytale glow. “You haven’t called on me in months, Polly. What is this about your father and Amaya, my darling?”

  Apollo stared at his mother’s appearance, taking in every detail of her face, every movement in her body. She was the epitome of elegance, and Apollo clearly understood why his father loved her so. Even though he admired her ethereal appearance, he knew somehow that his mother already knew everything. Whatever the issue, Apollo had to talk it out with her; it seemed to help him when it came time to heed her advice.

  He finally built up enough courage to tell her what he witnessed. His stomach was doing somersaults, but he had to tell her in hopes of her guidance. “Mum, the night you and father were attacked . . . it wasn’t by wild animals.”

  She stood—or floated—there, looking at him intently but lovingly, with a half-smile on her face. Apollo knew she was waiting for him to continue.

  “It was a clan of vampires.” He paused, waiting for her response, but, she simply looked at him. Apollo grew impatient. “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Apollo, everything happened that night for a reason. We cannot question Fate. It was meant to be.”

  “But now Father wants to turn Amaya and me into vampires! It means we’ll never have kids, we’ll never age, and we’ll never die. And if we never die, then we will never be with you again. Is that my fate? What about Amaya?” Apollo’s attitude suddenly turned from defensive to despondent. “Mum . . . I left her there.”

  “Find the girl, Polly. She will be your guiding star through the dark. She will lead you back into the light,” Victoria said in a comforting voice, which somehow calmed her son.

  “What about Amaya?”

  “Amaya is on her own path. Let her find her way.” Victoria hesitated. “I have no more time here. Do as I say, Polly. I love you.”

  Before Apollo could say anything else to his mother, she floated away into the breeze, leaving him alone in the forest. He whispered, “I love you, too, Mum.”

  Apollo basked in the residual warmth of his encounter with his mother. He felt sad that she was gone. He sighed. He always did that when he came back to reality. Then he reflected on what his mother had said.

  What did she mean by, “Find the girl?” Apollo thought, shaking his head.

  Apollo crouched down, scooped a handful of mud, and smeared it over his face. He reached for more and more, in order to spread the cold muck on his neck and hands. With each handful of mud, he covered his clothes, shoes, and anything that would leave his scent lingering in the air.

  By not returning, he knew his father would come after him. He trained with Ori and Tereq. He knew how they thought, how they moved, and what they could do. He knew what they were capable of doing as humans, but he did not know what he was up against with them as vampires. He only knew what he read, and he read that they could smell fear, smell any scent from miles away. He relied on the mud’s earthy odor to conceal his scent. He also used the mud to keep himself warm.

  Apollo pulled his knees to his chest and laid his head on his dirty pants. His lips began to tremble, but he refused to let tears well up in his eyes. He was uncertain as to what to do next. He had to find his way out of the forest and away from his family. The problem was that he had no idea what awaited him outside the only home he had ever known. He sighed, trying to hold back his wave of confusing emotions.

  He finally stood, took a deep breath, and vowed to himself that he would not cry. Moreover, he would not let anyone else down, especially not himself. He tried to replay in his mind everything that transpired. Earlier this evening, he was sleeping in his bed, and now a few hours later, he’d found out that his father was a vampire.

  He stewed over the confrontation with his father, thought about the way Amaya stepped back and away from him. He was in deep thought, which prevented him from sensing the presence standing near him.

  A branch cracked through the trees to his right. The warm breath of something living turned to a stream of fog captured in the light of the moon. There was a slight snort. That sound made him realize that whatever it was, it was too close. He froze. Glancing over his shoulder, he anticipated an attack.

  His mind went numb with a barrage of thoughts. Was it a
vampire? Did his father find him? Should he run? Should he hide? Should he stand still and hope that whatever was near him did not see him? His adrenaline pushed him from frozen to panic mode.

  Apollo took off running. He could hear the pounding feet behind him; he could feel his attacker gaining ground. He ran around trees, dodged low-hanging branches and stumbled over roots in the ground. He used his hands to guide him through the darkness of the forest. Then, past the thud of his heart, the sound of his gasp for air, he no longer heard the steps behind him. He only heard his feet pound the dirt, and his heart thump against his chest.

  He stopped, leaned over, and braced his hands on his knees. He realized it could not have been Ori, Tereq, or Vasco. Not even Fatima. They could outrun him without any effort whatsoever.

  Suddenly, Apollo heard the familiar thud against the ground again that gave him just enough time to look up and throw his hands up to block himself. A beast pushed past him. Apollo hit the ground hard, banging his head on a rock.

  He glanced up and focused on a four-legged beast running further into the cascading foothills. Apollo realized it was an elk. The animal seemed more afraid of him than he was of it. He let out a sigh of relief.

  Apollo felt a twinge of pain in the back of his head. When he reached back, he felt a wet spot through his hair. He brought his fingers to his nose and smelled his blood. The unmistakable aroma made his stomach churn. If he could smell his blood, he knew they could smell his blood.

  He reached down, grabbed mud, and pressed it against his wound. Apollo leaned his head back, looked up toward the moon and begged for guidance through the forest. If anyone were listening to his thoughts, he needed a miracle.

  He walked and ran; ran and walked, but he never let his goal change. He never allowed the reason he left his home to escape his twisted mind. Apollo was determined to make it out of the forest where he might have a chance . . . at living rather than fear the fact that, in less than three days, he would be dying.

  After an hour of keeping the same pace, he wondered if the world were one vast forest with four-legged beasts and infinite trees. This was the furthest he had ever traveled away from his home, and he could not see an end in sight. He was hungry and tired. His strength was all but gone. His hunger pangs intensified. He slowed down and took a moment to catch his breath. He needed to replenish his strength. Where would he find food?

  As if to answer his pleas, the moonlight streamed down through the forest trees on a family of beetles. They were large, meaty, and traveling up and down an enormous tree. He watched them run into each other as they scurried along, tending to beetle business. Apollo walked over to the tree and watched the beetles closely.

  He put his hand on the bark, allowing one beetle to crawl onto his arm. It ran to the palm of his hand and stopped. It sat still, unsure where to go or what to do next. With sudden bravado, the beetle crawled to the edge of Apollo’s hand and fell off into the dirt, recovering its way back to the tree.

  Apollo scooped up three large beetles in his hand and closed his fingers around them. He could feel the insects tickle the palm of his hand while they squirmed to be free. He would have rather set them free, but his stomach was now overriding his reason. He hesitated and then gave in to his hunger.

  He shoveled the beetles into his mouth and crunched down on their hard shells. He gagged when the liquid mucus and bitter membranes splattered into his mouth as he quickly chewed and then swallowed. He grabbed another handful and yet another. When the pangs in his stomach were gone, he left the tree and the remaining beetles to continue their work.

  It was seconds after he ate that he heard a strange, distant humming. He tried to listen to where the sound was coming from, but it was so vague that it echoed around him. He turned in circles, looking in every direction, trying to decipher the humming’s whereabouts.

  He walked in one direction, and the sound began to fade. Then he closed his eyes, cleared his mind, and narrowed in on the strange humming noise. The sound was distinct, clear, a variety of humming with two solid surfaces clicking together. Apollo could hear the sound coming from his right. He was stealthy as he moved in that direction, his bow and arrow gripped tightly in his hand.

  With each step, Apollo carefully moved around branches that might snap under his steps. He tried to remember his training with Ori, to move swift and keen on the balls of his feet, focusing on being light as a feather.

  Apollo focused on breathing, seeing past the darkness, and following the insistent sound that buzzed in his ear. A high-pitched hum sounded more like the melody of sweet music against the howling of the forest. He was getting closer to the noise. When he realized that the sound was coming from a bush, he stopped. The bush sat beneath the glow of the moon’s light.

  His advantage: the darkness surrounded him. The sound’s disadvantage: it was sitting, exposed under the moon’s iridescent glow. He was ready to confront the sound that lay beneath the bush. His heart began to pump fast, his adrenaline rushed through his veins. He reached his left hand out and wrapped his fingers around the bush while he held just the arrow in his right hand with the sharp tip pointing downward.

  When he pulled the bushes apart, he instantly stumbled backward at the sight of a girl cowered toward the back of the bush, humming while she rocked to the beat of her chattering teeth. Apollo stumbled backward, letting the bush close back around her. He tripped on a root and fell to the ground.

  She had not moved. She continued to rock back and forth, hum, and chatter even after she saw Apollo in his muddy suit with an arrow over his head. Apollo had inhaled deeply before he stood. He slowly walked back to the bushes and moved the branches out of the way. He stared down at a girl, close to his age, covered in blood.

  He was paralyzed with shock, overtaken by a flood of emotion. He was not sure what to do or how to help her. He wondered if he should close the bush back around her and leave her there. Who is she? Why is she crouched in a bush out here in the cold? His mind moved faster than his thoughts could process.

  Finally, he found his voice to speak. “You’re a human?” he asked. “You’re a person like me?”

  She did not respond. Although she appeared to be looking at him, he realized that she was looking through him. The moon kissed the top of her dark brown hair while her brown eyes stared up at him, a longing for someone to put an end to her nightmare—her distress.

  He took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Then, he knelt down to her level and watched her eyes follow his movements. She had connected with him. He had to keep her focused. He did not want to lose her to that empty stare. He reached out his muddy hand, but she flinched, and pulled away.

  “I’m Apollo. I won’t hurt you. I want to help you,” he whispered. He watched her shake fiercely. He had to speed this up, or she was going to freeze to death. “Do you have a name?”

  “S-S-Soph-Sophie,” she stammered.

  Apollo reached his hand out to her again, and this time she placed her delicate, cold hand into the warmth of his. Could this be the girl Mum spoke of?

  -7-

  Amaya sat on Apollo’s bed alone with her head in her hands. Her long, brown hair fell forward over her face and arms. She had been waiting for her brother to return home after he ran from them earlier. He was gone, and she was alone. For the first time in eighteen years, Amaya and Apollo were apart.

  How did this happen? she wondered as she ran her hands down her face, wiping at her tears—tears of fear, guilt, horror, disgust—but mostly tears for her brother. She felt his anguish and despair. She understood Apollo’s reaction.

  How could their father make an agreement like that? Worse, how could he make a deal like that and not tell them that he planned to turn them into these creatures? Amaya stood and paced, processing each thought that plagued her—each thought that tormented her.

  She circled his room and kicked at the habitual obstacle course of clothing left on her brother’s bedroom floor.

  She grieve
d inconsolably at the thought that her brother was gone and that she was alone. How could he do this to her? How could he abandon her? How could he—

  Amaya tripped over a pile of clothes and landed on her knees. The sudden fall stopped her mental gymnastics and released her raw emotions. She sobbed. When she leaned forward and rested her forehead on his nightshirt, she bawled harder. Apollo’s shirt soaked up her tears like a sponge—a sponge of heartache and despair.

  Amaya pushed herself up to stand, but realized the impact on her knees from the fall had reopened a wound she got the day before when they were racing outdoors.

  Her desperation to beat him in that race had caused her to trip and slide across the gravel. She was competitive, yet clumsy. She wanted to be better than he was. No matter what it was, she wanted to be better. Although she would challenge him in anything, Apollo was there to comfort her and tend to her wounds. They have always had to rely on each other for such things. Now he was gone. Now, on whom would she rely?

  “Dammit, Polly,” she cried. “Why’d you do this?” She regretted waking him up, she regretted dragging him to the cave, and she regretted not telling her father that Apollo had not come home yet. Her father would have gone after him, found him, and brought him back to the house where he belonged. Her father could have fixed this. Why didn’t I go straight to Father?

  Amaya walked back over to Apollo’s bed and sat on the edge. Her mind raced through the reasons why she did not tell anyone that Apollo had not returned. He had been gone for hours—mere hours that ticked away at the agonizing pace of a tortoise.

  What if a Sombra got him? She was scared. Scared for Polly, scared for herself, and scared that she now knew what her father was and what she was going to become.

  “Somebody needs to go after him,” she mumbled. She had to find her father and tell him that he was wrong to think Apollo would have returned on his own. She knew her father could fix this desperate situation. She started for the door, but the sound and power of the door thrusting open made her jump back.

  “Apollo’s not back yet,” Nicholas clamored when he stepped into Apollo’s room.

  “I know, Father. He never came home . . .”

  “He’s been gone for hours. You should’ve told me that he hadn’t come home yet,” he yelled.

  “Father!” she cried.

  “Why did I hear it from Ori and not you?”

  “I was going to tell you, but I thought he’d be back by now.”

  She feared the look in his darkening eyes. His easy demeanor was gone. He now had a twisted monster-like look on his face. The angrier he became, the darker he appeared. His ridging brow and lengthening canines made his face look grotesque. She had seen those features earlier on Tereq, but she had never seen them on her father. Amaya crawled up on the bed and pressed her back against the cold wall.

  When he saw her fear, Nicholas came to his senses. He turned his back to her and took a deep breath to calm his changing appearance. He had to reduce his anger so that he would not scare his own daughter.

  “Don’t fear me.” He inhaled deeply. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I apologize. I’m your father, regardless of my appearance.” He turned around to face her with softer lines on his face, his easy demeanor returned.

  “I didn’t tell you because I was sure he would’ve been home by now, Papa,” Amaya repeated.

  “I thought he would have, too.” Nicholas walked over to Apollo’s unmade bed and sat down on the edge next to Amaya. “I guess we were both wrong.”

  “Don’t be mad at him, Papa.”

  “I’m not mad at your brother, Maya. I just wish Tereq . . .” His words trailed off, and then he quickly picked up another thought. “I should’ve told you two what you were going to become.”

  “When would you have told us?”

  “When the time was right; it just never felt like the right time.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t go through with it?” Amaya whispered.

  That immediate thought had tormented him repeatedly through the years. However, to hear Amaya say it, threw him into a controlled fit. “I refuse to watch you both age and die. I lost your mother. You and Apollo are all I have left.”

  Amaya felt her father’s misery. She reached over and ran her hand down his arm. He had always been cold, but she knew what he was now, and she understood why his body was much colder than hers. For a second, she wondered if her skin would be that cold when they turned her into a vampire.

  Nicholas glanced into his daughter’s eyes before he grabbed and hugged her close to him. While he held her, Amaya could not help but think about her brother’s future.

  “What will happen to Apollo if we can’t find him?”

  “The key to our survival is that we’re not exposed—our secrecy is our vitality. In this life, in this world, our weakness could be our demise.” Nicholas hesitated as he glanced around his son’s bedroom. The candlelit room was laden with Apollo’s scent. Everywhere Nicholas looked, his son’s essence permeated the room.

  Nicholas’s eyes were distant when he answered Amaya’s question. “He’ll be found, he’ll be punished, and he’ll be turned. After all of that, if he does not adapt, I’m afraid Maximiliano will not be tolerant.”

  “No, Papa.” Her emotional turmoil grew at the thought of her brother enduring a punishment or worse. Unable to hold back the flood, she began to sob uncontrollably again.

  Nicholas scooped her up in his arms and cradled her the same way he had when she was a child. She felt safe in the midst of his cold arms, especially when thunder would roar through the night, or she’d awakened from a bad dream. He cradled her now out of instinct, perhaps wishing she was again that young, innocent little girl.

  He knew she loved her twin brother, but he also knew that Apollo had to mature, grow into the Sanguis he was meant to be. Apollo’s turning was non-negotiable. It was an agreement that Nicholas had made with Max in order to spare his children’s lives. Maximiliano would have it no other way. If Apollo defied their leader or the natural order, Nicholas and Amaya had to prepare themselves for the possibilities of Apollo’s death.

  Nicholas stared at the charcoal drawings on Apollo’s walls. He set his daughter down on the bed and walked over to a self-portrait that Apollo had drawn. He put his hand on the feathered edges, trying to absorb Apollo’s remnant energy. “My son, your goodness will do you no good here, but, it would have been gold in the life we lived before the attack,” he whispered.

  Nicholas was emotionally torn. Like any parent, he wanted to give Apollo the opportunity to make his own decisions. But, he couldn’t. Apollo would have no choice in this matter.

  Nicholas walked back to his daughter. He stared down at her beautiful, angelic face. A hint of his wife lingered in her woeful eyes. It was time—time for him to tell her what the true purpose was for his visit. He was on his way to see his children when Ori had stopped him. Ori had explained that Apollo had not returned.

  “Amaya, Maximiliano arrived an hour ago. He had a long journey here and asked to see you and Apollo. When we heard that Apollo had not returned, Max sent Ori and Tereq after him.”

  She nodded. “Why does he want to see us?”

  “It’s time for you to acknowledge our leader and learn what there is to know before your ceremony.”

  Amaya could feel her stomach twisting and turning into desperate knots. “I’m afraid, Father.”

  “Don’t be afraid; I won’t let anything happen to you. Besides, Max rescued us the night you both were born. Sure, we are in debt to him for rescuing us, but he’s always needed me more than he’ll ever admit. I can only help Apollo to a point. After that, he has to find his own way.” He grabbed a jacket draped over a chair in Apollo’s room, “Take this, you’ll need it. It’ll be cold where we’re going.”

  She wondered where her father was going to take her. With each new situation she encountered, she experienced a different kind of trauma.

  Amaya’s thoughts flew in ma
ny directions. From one thought to the next, she fought the paralyzing hunger pangs that took hold of her stomach. Nicholas had ordered her and Apollo to fast for three days before their initiation ceremony, and she was struggling with the first day. Between her heightened emotions, fatigue, and her brother becoming a fugitive of the clan, she felt alone—even in the grip of her father’s arm.

  Amaya could not stop thinking about the inevitable discipline her brother was going to suffer due to his actions. She wished he would find peace with the decisions their father had made, but he was quite the opposite—a martyr for those beliefs that he felt strongly about, always willing to sacrifice for the greater good.

  Amaya took one last woeful look at her brother’s room. The void in her hollowed heart added to the overall pain she was suffering. She took a deep breath and pushed those feelings aside, locked away where she could get to them, but not let them hinder her journey.

  “I’m ready, Papa,” she whispered.

  Nicholas took her by the hand and guided her away from Apollo’s bedroom. It was time for her to learn about her future—her future as a vampire.

  Nicholas led his daughter through the forest and back to the bushes that were nestled in front of the cave. She felt dizzy as they approached the perimeter. The first time she went inside, she was curious. However, this time, she returned to the cave because her new leader—a “leader” she’d never met, one she’d never known—had ordered her to do so.

  Fear and an odd sense of excitement tumbled together in the pit of her stomach. She was on an adventure, a challenge of sorts and the excitement left her in a cloud of mystery. She was stepping into the unknown.

  Amaya and her father walked past the area where she and Apollo had stopped. The deeper they walked into the lair, the more she realized how intricately customized the cave was for the clan.

  She admired the embellishments along the smooth walls. Burning candles still sat in gold and silver candelabras on various parts of the walls. The candles painted a yellow hue upon the carved-out cave. The further into the cave they walked, the tunnels began to resemble the inside halls of a castle. It no longer looked like a rough, natural cave.

  The cavern was an underground castle of intricate sculpted architecture. The walls were adorned with zodiac signs and fascinating eighteenth-century wool wall coverings. Amaya ran her hand across one.

  The corridors that Nicholas took his daughter through were like an endless labyrinth of doors and dim entryways. Amaya absorbed everything. She could not look around fast enough to take in the beauty that surrounded her. She wanted to stop and touch everything she saw, every stone, every bit of the eighteenth-century Spanish décor that dressed up this cold, dark cave. What should have been a bare part of the earth was home to the vampires that lived below the surface.

  Amaya saw one thing that stopped her in her tracks. She narrowed her eyes, enchanted by a Spanish crest above the lair’s solid door. A purple shield with a black stripe and an arching red wreath were the foundation to a banner with words.

  “Nunquam Dormio,” Amaya pronounced while staring up at the artifact.

  “It means Never Sleep in Latin,” Nicholas whispered down toward his daughter’s ear.

  She could not pull her eyes from it. She was mesmerized by the beauty and meaning behind those two words.

  “Stand back.” Nicholas put his hand on the thick iron handle, and pulled the door open, unleashing a spine-tingling cold burst of air.

  Amaya shivered, wrapping her arms over her chest. Nicholas guided her down a winding, cold, carved stairwell that descended farther into the darkness. She moved closer to her father, looking for warmth and safety—well, at least safety, seeing as how he has never been warm and now she knew why.

  With each step, Amaya was frightened to walk further into the dark. She was unable to see the step in front of her and that alone was causing severe anxiety. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Amaya inhaled a breath of relief. But in the next thought, panic rose again when she realized they were so deep underground, no one would ever know she was there. The hidden cave was more than a cave; it was the residence to darkness, death, and night creatures. It was her future home.

  “One more thing, Amaya,” he remembered. “Follow my lead and address him as ‘Sire.’”

  Nicholas knocked three times, and after a few seconds, the door creaked open on its own.

  -8-

  This is so beautiful. Amaya stood at the door of their leader’s lair and peered in. She could not believe such a beautiful room hidden underground. Corinthian black marble pillars stood prominent along the cave walls. The musky smell of soil and rock surrounded her. Aside from the smell, the lair looked anything but decrepit. The room was fit for a king.

  She glanced above and noticed a majestic mosaic of the sun bordered by stars and the twelve signs of the zodiac. When she looked forward, a robed figure sat in the center of the room on a kingly hand-carved, rock throne. Amaya could barely see through the limited lighting. Only one person could be worthy of sitting on such a masterpiece . . . Maximiliano.

  Amaya hesitantly stepped into his sanctuary, barely noticing the deformed servant who stood to the side, waiting to do the master’s bidding. Mesmerized by the intricate detail of Maximiliano’s den, she swallowed, trying to quell her fear and excitement of entering his lair.

  They walked up to the throne where Maximiliano sat and watched, and Nicholas directed his daughter to bow and show respect. Amaya followed his lead but did not divert her eyes to the ground. She watched Maximiliano, wondering if he was as powerful as she imagined. While she watched him with curiosity, he watched her with utter intensity.

  Maximiliano stood. The flickering candles showed more of his facial features than when he sat in the shadows of his throne. Amaya gasped at the hideous scars along one side of his face. The scars were wide and curved like the claw of a beast.

  His eyes glared at her with bold coldness. The combination of veins on his transparent, pale skin along with the wrinkle lines on his face were from 600 years of simmering revenge that weighed on his mind. She cringed at the sound that his long, sharp nails made when he ran them over the marble banister. The silence in the room turned her stomach even queasier. With disgust and fear, she waited for him to speak.

  “Amaya,” his baritone voice echoed in the lair as he extended his cold, bony hand to her.

  Amaya walked toward him, took his hand and kissed the back of it the way he intended her to do. His skin smelled moldy and old, his bony fingers were stiff and rigid. Her heart was pounding out of control. She quickly backed up to stand next to her father again. She fought the intense urge to wipe her lips of whatever Maximiliano could have had on the back of his hand.

  Maximiliano began to walk around his throne in a methodical, almost menacing, way. His long, sharp fingernails continued to tap at the carved stone that encircled his throne. The room was frigid and quiet, and had an eerie feel. “I’m told that your brother has left the grounds.”

  “Yes,” her voice trembled.

  “I’m also told . . .” His back was toward them as he continued to circle the throne, running his fingernails across the stone, “that you went past the boundaries and found the caves.”

  “Yes.”

  “And what did you see?”

  “People chained to walls.”

  “And?” he inquired.

  Amaya could feel the bile in her stomach inching up her esophagus. She did not want to remember what she saw, let alone talk about it. “They were moaning and crying while other people fed on their blood,” she whispered.

  “Not people! Vampires!”

  Amaya jerked from his loud, sudden response. “Yes, Sire.” She diverted her eyes to the ground, trying hard to forget that her father was a vampire and in less than three days, she would be one, too.

  “How did that make you feel?”

  “Scared,” she managed to say.

  “Humans are always scared,” he stat
ed with obvious condescension. “In less than three days, you’ll feel the excitement. You’ll be proud to declare yourself a vampire.” His voice became lower and deeper when he spoke again. “Tell me, how did your brother feel to see us feed?”

  “Scared—scared enough to leave.”

  “Yes, scared enough to leave you here alone,” Maximiliano replied, raising one eyebrow. “He didn’t care about us, your father . . . and he certainly didn’t care about you. How did you feel when he abandoned you?” he demanded.

  “Angry.” Her voice rose with a strange boisterous confidence.

  “You have reason to be angry at that coward. You were wise to stay where you belong.” Maximiliano paced in front of Nicholas and Amaya with a vicious look in his beady eyes. When he finally spoke, his words were thick with the numbing reality of Amaya’s fate.

  “Your allegiance is not to your brother. It’s to your people. You will become one of us—an addition to our proud family, to our clan. In a few days, you’ll become a Sanguis and your pathetic human life will no longer exist.”

  Amaya’s heart pounded against her chest, trying to find a way into her throat. She swallowed back her odd combination of excitement and resignation, desire and fear. Finally, she would become what everyone around her had always been.

  The bitter taste of fear crept up when she realized she would have to give up the only life she had known, and the human body in which she had peace. She stood on trembling legs, watching her future grotesque and menacing leader contemplate his next words.

  “You’ll sleep during the day and move about at night. You’ll no longer eat food, but instead, drink human blood.” Maximiliano made a hand gesture that summoned a servant toward him. “And you will become acquainted with these beasts who are our servants.”

  Amaya gasped at the limping beast that dragged one leg behind its horrific reeking body. It resembled a human beneath the layers of wrinkled skin and deformed limbs. Its eyes were not symmetrical; one was much lower than the other. Its mouth did not have lips in front of the sharp-pointed teeth that were jaggedly sparse. Its missing nose revealed a nasal cavity that supplied a constant flow of mucus down its twisted face.

  Amaya pulled back slightly and leaned closer to her father. It was difficult to take the sight and smell of it.

  Maximiliano introduced the servant. “She’s what we call a Sombra.”

  “They’re real?” Amaya asked in disbelief. I can’t believe Tereq was telling us the truth.

  Since she and Apollo were children, Tereq had told them that Sombras resided outside the perimeters. They were something to fear because of their gruesome appearance and their insatiable appetite for anything human, or meaty—especially children. They were no longer legendary to Amaya, nor were they an excuse to stay within the grounds. She was shocked. They had been real all along.

  Nicholas slouched forward and looked at Amaya’s face, “Don’t be alarmed. They won’t hurt you. The Sombras are servants to our clan.”

  Amaya’s shock and initial disgust changed. She no longer felt fear. While staring at the deformed creature in front of her, she had an odd sensation of fascination and empathy instead.

  “They? How many are there?” she asked while she walked around it slowly. The creature’s eyes attempted to follow Amaya’s movements as mucus dripped from her chin to her saggy breasts. Amaya was not the only one appreciating the moment.

  Maximiliano admired Amaya’s reaction to the beast. He appreciated her embrace of the clan—so much so, his lips twitched into a slight grin. His tone changed to that of a teacher as he continued to explain.

  “They’ve been part of our feeding cycle for centuries. We consume the human’s blood and they clean up after us by digesting the leftover carcasses. They hunt efficiently and, above all, they are able to avoid human exposure. The secrecy of our existence is the most critical aspect to our survival.”

  “What are they?”

  “They are deformities, unsuccessful transformations.”

  That answer jolted her mind back to reality. She looked at her father concerned. “Does that mean I’m at risk of ending up like that?”

  “No, Amaya,” Nicholas quickly answered, eager to correct her and ease her mind. “Neither you nor your brother is at risk of ending up like that. They were once humans with a rare blood disease. The vampire poison mixed with the blood disease creates these creatures. You don’t have that disease.”

  There was a sudden break in their conversation when the door to Max’s lair swung open. Max’s right-hand man, Vasco, stormed in to the room. Vasco had known Max for 600 years and followed him just like he did when they were humans—when Max and Vasco were both knights to the King of Spain.

  Vasco had an air of arrogance about him. He pulled his long hair back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, his face hardened with bitterness, and his eyes narrowed in on Max.

  He walked past Nicholas and Amaya as if they were not there, obviously not the least bit concerned that he was interrupting Amaya and her father. However, Vasco was upset; his fangs protruded and his jawline bulged with the grinding of his teeth. His thick eyebrows were drawn together, and the veins in his neck protruded. He flipped his leather trench coat back and away from the front of his body.

  When he reached Maximiliano’s throne, he lowered his head and approached respectfully. Vasco moved in as if to have a confidential discussion, but he purposely spoke loud enough for Nicholas and Amaya to hear.

  “This needs to be dealt with immediately. That boy’s weakness is going to expose us all. Have you forgotten how important it is that we stay hidden in these hills away from society?”

  Nicholas knew that Vasco, the instigator, was talking about Apollo. He could feel the rage coursing through every vein in his body. He balled his hands into fists, and he restrained extending his fangs.

  “I’ve sent Ori and Tereq to bring Apollo back,” Max dully responded.

  Vasco’s face was stone-cold angry. He glared at their leader. “We should have dismembered them when they were infants.”

  Nicholas saw Amaya gasp in horror. His fists trembled, he gnashed his teeth and growled as his beastly features manifested. His fangs, black nails, and facial features protruded. His pupils turned black, and his muscles grew larger.

  Amaya watched her father in horror, taking a step away from his changing form. When her father growled, she froze in fright. She had never seen him that angry—that ferocious. He was unrecognizable.

  Nicholas flew in the air toward Vasco, clawing his face as he passed by him and rolled upright on the landing, growling in anticipation for Vasco to counter. Nicholas shook his right hand, tossing the scooped-out flesh from underneath his extended, sharp nails.

  Vasco touched his face to feel the ridges and the flap of skin that unveiled his drooling jawbone. His skin immediately repaired itself. Vasco grinned, and then he hissed and salivated when he further extended his fangs. In a blink of an eye, he was standing in front of Nicholas, ready for the challenge.

  Vasco grabbed a handful of Nicholas’s hair and smashed his face against the wall, knocking Nicholas into a quick daze. Vasco went in for the kill. He raised his sharp claws and was ready to thrust his daggers into Nicholas’s neck to sever his head.

  Maximiliano threw up his hand and used his innate power to stop Vasco from the kill. Vasco was unable to move. “Enough! Stand down!” Maximiliano demanded.

  Vasco felt his leader release him; he obediently let go of Nicholas and stepped aside. Putting his hands behind his back and retracting his razor-sharp fangs, Vasco glared at Nicholas while he did the same.

  Maximiliano sighed at the continual conflict between his followers and the human twins. Two more days and they would no longer have humans on the grounds unless they were food in the blood bank.

  Maximiliano shooed Nicholas and Amaya out of his lair. Amaya ran to her father’s side, clutching him in concern as they walked toward the door.

  Max watched them leave a
nd then turned his attention to Vasco. He extended his fangs, left his throne and stood in front of Vasco in a microsecond. He grabbed Vasco by his shirt and slammed him against the cave wall.

  “Listen to me carefully,” he growled. “Nicholas is on the verge of the serum we need to complete our army. He’s much too important right now. You will not hurt him until we have what we need.” Maximiliano released his shirt and retracted his fangs. “Go find Ori and Tereq, and bring back that boy—alive!”

  -9-

  Apollo helped Sophie stand. She trembled so fiercely, he instinctively leaned down and picked her up, cradling her in his arms. She molded her body to his, slowly burrowing her face into the crook of his neck and shoulder.

  His heart ached for her. What was she doing out in the forest in such condition? Why did she have dried blood splattered on her arms, face, clothes, and hair?

  Apollo found a boulder to sit on while he held the girl in his arms. Her muscles relaxed, and the chattering of her teeth decreased with the rise of her body temperature.

  Apollo gazed down at her delicate features. In areas where there was no dried blood, he could see her soft, beautiful skin and long, silky brown hair shimmer beneath the moon’s light. Her full, heart-shaped lips were a shade of purple from the frigid air. Her slender body molded perfectly in his arms. He would not allow anything to happen to her. He vowed to protect her.

  He scooted back on the rock and leaned against a tree. He tried to keep his eyes open, but while he stared down at the sleeping beauty in his arms, his eyes became heavy and they slowly closed. Fatigue had finally caught up with him, and he dozed off to sleep.