Disarming
Page 7
It was brilliant. Why I hadn’t thought of that was beyond me. I carefully took stock of the surroundings and discovered a small worn path to the right of the gaming area. It was not the first choice of anyone walking through here, which made it easy to hide and disguise the trap-free route. I snickered, making my way carefully to the path without setting off any more traps.
A gurgling sound drew my attention before I got to it. Turning back the way I had come, I held my blade out as I rounded a corner to find what had created the disturbance. A feral vampire hung by one leg, swinging and thrashing as I got closer. I examined its restraint, making sure it would hold before creeping closer. I watched as it twisted to look at me, its fangs exposed as a low guttural growl formed in its throat. He swung his arms at me, making the rope sway and creak under the movement. I grinned, finding it rather amusing. The trap was quite effective, rendering him harmless as he hung like a slab of cow on a meat hook.
I held my machete up and was about to slice through his neck when another noise startled me. I spun to my right and found a man waiting nearby, arms crossed, an angered frown pasted on his face. I didn’t turn back, certain the feral was helpless enough that I could leave him swinging as I sized up the stranger. Surprise was not the world that described what I felt. Shock was more like it.
“Who are you?” I demanded, gripping my machete tightly, wondering if he was a human or a hybrid. Without answering, he stepped closer, into a ray of light that leaked through a skylight high above the card game tables. He wore a rumpled light blue T-shirt with well-worn jeans covering dark black boots. His clothes were worn but clean. Stubble colored his strong jaw and his dark brown hair laid in locks that threatened to cover his ears and fall into his eyes.
The look on his face confirmed that he had not expected to encounter any humans. The very fact that whoever had taken such pain-staking steps to keep the ferals from entering the bottom floor of this place made me think that they had not figured other humans into the equation at all. How this person was so sure there were no others, was beyond me. But I had certainly not expected to meet a hybrid vampire when Miranda had waltzed into my life, for that matter. My guess was that the traps were never meant for humans, but had been laid there for feral vampires.
We studied each other, and I knew then he had stepped into the light on purpose, for me to know exactly what he was. The sun did not bother him, and there were no golden halos surrounding his irises, reflecting the light. He looked pretty human to me, which was intriguing yet shocking. I wondered what he had been up to for over a year in solitude and why I’d never run into him before.
“I’m Elijah.” He tilted his head to the side and continued to glare at me. “You’re trespassing.” He stepped even closer, making me back up, still holding out my sword. I didn’t trust him, but I could not bring myself to bolt out of there immediately.
Now standing by the dangling feral, he shifted his eyes to the animal swinging in his trap. With a snap of his arm, he decapitated the snarling creature with a sword I had not noticed on him before. Stepping back to a row of slots beside the fallen creature, he pulled the lever on the nearest slot machine which sent the rope and the body crashing down in a mangled heap. I watched his every move, waiting for an attack. But it did not come.
“You shouldn’t be here.” He muttered, kneeling down to undo the restraint on the feral’s leg. Finding it too tight to undo, he pulled out a hatchet and hacked the foot right off. Blood sprayed the carpet, but the rope was now free—and bloodied—but he nevertheless unraveled it and reset the lasso.
“What are you doing here?” I stuttered as I waited, unsure if I should let my guard down or not. He didn’t seem as threatening when his eyes were not bearing down on me. Still, I trusted no one.
“Does it matter? I live here, so go away.” Emphasizing the last two words, he refocused on me with the same daggered glare. I shook my head; I wasn’t going to go anywhere yet. Not without the answers I sought.
Our stare-down continued as he stood back up and pocketed the hatchet. He wiped the sword clean on the dead feral’s dirty clothes before placing it into a sheath attached to his belt. Obviously, he was pretty strong and intelligent to outsmart hordes of feral vampires for so long. I felt a sort of kinship with him, knowing we must have had so much in common.
Especially the human part.
“Very well then.” He groaned and turned, heading down the unrigged path to an elevator. He hit the button, which lit up at his touch. My mouth hung open as the doors slid open and the empty car revealed a well-kept ride. “You coming or are you going to stay there with your jaw on the floor?” He smirked, the death glare all but gone. I followed him to the elevator and entered, positioning myself beside him, never letting him out of my vision. He gave me a curt nod and hit the penthouse button.
The lurch made me grab the side rails of the car. The last time I had ridden an elevator was at the Stratosphere Tower. It had ended pretty badly, with me beaten and near death. It was not a pleasant memory whatsoever, and I was pretty sure my apprehension was showing as he focused his eyes on me. It was like he was trying to probe my mind as we shared this tiny space. The end came quickly, with a slight ding as the doors opened onto the highest floor of the building.
If shock could permanently be stamped on my face, right then would have been a good time for it to happen. He led me into the old Ghost Bar, a dance club I had heard about and seen advertisements for on TV. He had it all rigged up with electricity somehow, and the lights on the chandeliers above the bar twinkled. It was pristine, like any minute a gang of partiers could waltz right in. But it was just me and this Elijah. And I still had no clue who he was.
“Not too shabby, right?” He beamed at my shock and headed toward the bar. A door stood right by the end of the counter, he entered a code into the panel beside it and then pushed it open. He motioned for me to follow. I was still awestruck, but I reminded myself to remember where the hell I was.
The bottles of beer lining the shelves of the bar were green, just like the shattered glass on the road.
I entered what was a comfortably-sized apartment behind the bar. It had a simple set up to it and one black accent wall. His bedspread was a striped black and brown, making it clean and crisp. It looked like a hotel room, but the decorative knives and swords lining the walls and sitting in glass displays along with the pictures of smiling people made it more lived in. One picture was of a woman, bright blue eyes and dark brown hair. Her perfectly white smile gleamed at me through the glass. Another had an older couple, white hair peppering their once dark strands and wrinkles cinching on their happy faces. I wondered who they were, what they meant to this man. I was definitely fascinated.
He walked to the mini bar he had set up in the center of the room and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of rum. He even had cans of soda, and my heart leaped at the sound as he cracked open a can and poured it into the liquor. I had not drunk any alcohol since high school, and that had been very little. But this little luxury was too good to pass up.
Elijah held the glass out to me as he took a swig of his own. “Come on, I don’t bite.” I stepped forward and took the glass, looking down at the little cubes of ice floating in the liquid, hitting the sides with the usual tink. I smiled, eager to taste the fluid. I took a swig, almost coughing as the burn tumbled down my throat and into my belly, setting it on fire. “Whoa there, not so fast.” He laughed, handing me a dinner napkin to mop up the dribbles sliding down my chin.
I cleaned it up and set the glass down on the counter, staring at Elijah, wondering what to say. I had imagined this moment for months, but now, finally meeting another human, I had nothing to say.
“You never told me your name.” He watched me tentatively, the anger gone from his face as he tossed back his drink. He was built enough he could throw someone out of a club if he wanted, but he didn’t feel dangerous to me. I hoped my gut feeling was right.
“April.”
“Well, April. It seems you are the first human I have seen in Vegas in a long, long time.” He set his glass down and sat on the edge of his bed. He offered me the spot next to him, to which I shook my head. I was starting to feel a tad uncomfortable standing in a bedroom with someone other than Rye.
“Everyone’s dead.” I managed to squeak out. Sweat was forming on my brow from the liquor, and I was sure I was drenching my maroon shirt with stains. I had hung my machete on my belt in the elevator, leaving me free to wipe my dampened hands on my jeans. He watched my every move, which made me self-conscious, but the need to talk with him overpowered my desire to run.
“Yep, that’s pretty much what’s happened.” Elijah sighed, scratching his head and staring out the window.
“How come you’re alive?” I wanted to kick myself for sounding so stupid.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he mumbled. His dark brown eyes found me again but crinkled with the large smile widening across his jaw. “Glad to meet you, April. I’m sure we would’ve been really great friends.” Elijah stood up and held his hand out to me, still flashing his pearly whites as he waited for me to take the next step. I accepted, slipping my hand into his to give it a shake.
Instead, he pulled me toward him, spinning me around so that I faced away from him, and pinned my arm behind me. He easily yanked my other hand, which was trying to reach for one of my weapons, back behind me as well. I bucked up and down, trying to hit his face with my skull or stomp his feet, but he was well trained. He dodged my efforts easily, pulling me snug against his chest, his head cradling mine as he waited for me to calm down.
His rough stubble scratched my neck, making me pull away as his hot breath trickled down the side of my face. He smelled of cologne and clean linen. Pleasant. So why was he doing this? Up until that point, I had not felt a threat from him at all.
“The city is not safe. I wouldn’t dream of harming you, but I’m warning you now. Go back to where you’re hiding and stay there. Don’t ever come back, and don’t tell a soul about me, or I will kill you.” With that, he pushed me forward.
I stumbled to the floor, catching myself on a chair with my arms, which now burned from the restraint he had me locked in not a moment before. I glared at him, wide-eyed and furious. He had his sword out and pointed down toward me, but made no move to use it. “I mean it. Come back and I won’t be so merciful.” He spat out his words, trying to look threatening. Was that concern I saw flashing in his eyes? In a second, it was gone, leaving only the cold stare.
My gut told me it was a farce, but my mind had me scrambling to get up to run out of the apartment, into the bar and out the doors to the lone working elevator. I shoved at the call button, fumbling with my machete in the other, just in case he came stalking around the corner or changed his mind about leaving me unharmed. The familiar ding came fast and I rushed into the box, turning to see if he was there. He was. He stood nonchalantly watching me as he leaned against the wall of the entrance to the club. His face was blank as he let his eyes glide over me and down to my machete, giving me a slight nod before the doors slid shut.
Chapter Eight
Broken
Rye
RYE WALKED TO his car as the sunrise’s unseen tendrils prickled his skin and eyes, making him don his sunglasses. He hopped into the heavily-tinted dark grey Dodge Charger. The shiny exterior of the car was an inky, black pool under the scant moonlight. The air was already heating up, rolling over his skin like a wave of steam. Summer was heading their way, promising long days in the inferno of the solar glare, heating to obscene temperatures that made traversing about the land nearly impossible for him. He hated the summers in Vegas, swearing under his breath that he had to deal with yet another one.
The call of the northern west coast coursed through his veins, making him long for the wet and freezing temperatures of the sea-sprayed air. This place was nothing but dirt and death. Even the land had a way of withering the neglected buildings around him, claiming the structures back for itself. He sped down the mountain road to the even hotter and dismal valley below. How he had come to be anchored in a place like this was beyond his comprehension. He had the urge to keep driving, past The Strip and the disarrayed tangles of garbage, cars and tumbleweeds that littered the streets and highways. Keep on driving until the ocean met him with open arms once more. Only then would he feel safe and sound again.
Oh, how he longed for that day to come already.
Rye wondered if April would join him. He wondered many things about the human girl who had stolen his heart but probably didn’t feel the same toward him. He had watched her pull away, watched her cease her loving embraces and holding of hands until the wall she had built up stood so high around her, he couldn’t reach her anymore. Left out in the bitter cold. And he didn’t even know why.
The hum of the motor made his thoughts drift. He had come to see April and found her lost in her thoughts and quiet. Dinner had been no better. He had tried to coax out of her where she had been all day long. Leaving her brother at the hive while she traipsed around town alone had sent up red flags. She loved to be alone, roam the city and do her thing. But he wanted to join her, to explore with her, spend every living second with her. Yet he didn’t want to suffocate her and push her away. It was such a struggle to let her go and be who she was, but he had to. Otherwise he’d risk losing her forever.
His superior night vision left no stone or bundle of debris unseen. Rye dodged them easily, swerving at speeds that would make most lose their lunches. April hated his driving, and he had watched her bite her tongue as she silently prayed she would live through his hellish driving to see another day. This caused him to chuckle; these small things that made him think of her were the reasons why he kept coming around. He loved her, like he had never loved anyone, even Seraphin.
A gurgling sound drew my attention before I got to it. Turning back the way I had come, I held my blade out as I rounded a corner to find what had created the disturbance. A feral vampire hung by one leg, swinging and thrashing as I got closer. I examined its restraint, making sure it would hold before creeping closer. I watched as it twisted to look at me, its fangs exposed as a low guttural growl formed in its throat. He swung his arms at me, making the rope sway and creak under the movement. I grinned, finding it rather amusing. The trap was quite effective, rendering him harmless as he hung like a slab of cow on a meat hook.
I held my machete up and was about to slice through his neck when another noise startled me. I spun to my right and found a man waiting nearby, arms crossed, an angered frown pasted on his face. I didn’t turn back, certain the feral was helpless enough that I could leave him swinging as I sized up the stranger. Surprise was not the world that described what I felt. Shock was more like it.
“Who are you?” I demanded, gripping my machete tightly, wondering if he was a human or a hybrid. Without answering, he stepped closer, into a ray of light that leaked through a skylight high above the card game tables. He wore a rumpled light blue T-shirt with well-worn jeans covering dark black boots. His clothes were worn but clean. Stubble colored his strong jaw and his dark brown hair laid in locks that threatened to cover his ears and fall into his eyes.
The look on his face confirmed that he had not expected to encounter any humans. The very fact that whoever had taken such pain-staking steps to keep the ferals from entering the bottom floor of this place made me think that they had not figured other humans into the equation at all. How this person was so sure there were no others, was beyond me. But I had certainly not expected to meet a hybrid vampire when Miranda had waltzed into my life, for that matter. My guess was that the traps were never meant for humans, but had been laid there for feral vampires.
We studied each other, and I knew then he had stepped into the light on purpose, for me to know exactly what he was. The sun did not bother him, and there were no golden halos surrounding his irises, reflecting the light. He looked pretty human to me, which was intriguing yet shocking. I wondered what he had been up to for over a year in solitude and why I’d never run into him before.
“I’m Elijah.” He tilted his head to the side and continued to glare at me. “You’re trespassing.” He stepped even closer, making me back up, still holding out my sword. I didn’t trust him, but I could not bring myself to bolt out of there immediately.
Now standing by the dangling feral, he shifted his eyes to the animal swinging in his trap. With a snap of his arm, he decapitated the snarling creature with a sword I had not noticed on him before. Stepping back to a row of slots beside the fallen creature, he pulled the lever on the nearest slot machine which sent the rope and the body crashing down in a mangled heap. I watched his every move, waiting for an attack. But it did not come.
“You shouldn’t be here.” He muttered, kneeling down to undo the restraint on the feral’s leg. Finding it too tight to undo, he pulled out a hatchet and hacked the foot right off. Blood sprayed the carpet, but the rope was now free—and bloodied—but he nevertheless unraveled it and reset the lasso.
“What are you doing here?” I stuttered as I waited, unsure if I should let my guard down or not. He didn’t seem as threatening when his eyes were not bearing down on me. Still, I trusted no one.
“Does it matter? I live here, so go away.” Emphasizing the last two words, he refocused on me with the same daggered glare. I shook my head; I wasn’t going to go anywhere yet. Not without the answers I sought.
Our stare-down continued as he stood back up and pocketed the hatchet. He wiped the sword clean on the dead feral’s dirty clothes before placing it into a sheath attached to his belt. Obviously, he was pretty strong and intelligent to outsmart hordes of feral vampires for so long. I felt a sort of kinship with him, knowing we must have had so much in common.
Especially the human part.
“Very well then.” He groaned and turned, heading down the unrigged path to an elevator. He hit the button, which lit up at his touch. My mouth hung open as the doors slid open and the empty car revealed a well-kept ride. “You coming or are you going to stay there with your jaw on the floor?” He smirked, the death glare all but gone. I followed him to the elevator and entered, positioning myself beside him, never letting him out of my vision. He gave me a curt nod and hit the penthouse button.
The lurch made me grab the side rails of the car. The last time I had ridden an elevator was at the Stratosphere Tower. It had ended pretty badly, with me beaten and near death. It was not a pleasant memory whatsoever, and I was pretty sure my apprehension was showing as he focused his eyes on me. It was like he was trying to probe my mind as we shared this tiny space. The end came quickly, with a slight ding as the doors opened onto the highest floor of the building.
If shock could permanently be stamped on my face, right then would have been a good time for it to happen. He led me into the old Ghost Bar, a dance club I had heard about and seen advertisements for on TV. He had it all rigged up with electricity somehow, and the lights on the chandeliers above the bar twinkled. It was pristine, like any minute a gang of partiers could waltz right in. But it was just me and this Elijah. And I still had no clue who he was.
“Not too shabby, right?” He beamed at my shock and headed toward the bar. A door stood right by the end of the counter, he entered a code into the panel beside it and then pushed it open. He motioned for me to follow. I was still awestruck, but I reminded myself to remember where the hell I was.
The bottles of beer lining the shelves of the bar were green, just like the shattered glass on the road.
I entered what was a comfortably-sized apartment behind the bar. It had a simple set up to it and one black accent wall. His bedspread was a striped black and brown, making it clean and crisp. It looked like a hotel room, but the decorative knives and swords lining the walls and sitting in glass displays along with the pictures of smiling people made it more lived in. One picture was of a woman, bright blue eyes and dark brown hair. Her perfectly white smile gleamed at me through the glass. Another had an older couple, white hair peppering their once dark strands and wrinkles cinching on their happy faces. I wondered who they were, what they meant to this man. I was definitely fascinated.
He walked to the mini bar he had set up in the center of the room and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of rum. He even had cans of soda, and my heart leaped at the sound as he cracked open a can and poured it into the liquor. I had not drunk any alcohol since high school, and that had been very little. But this little luxury was too good to pass up.
Elijah held the glass out to me as he took a swig of his own. “Come on, I don’t bite.” I stepped forward and took the glass, looking down at the little cubes of ice floating in the liquid, hitting the sides with the usual tink. I smiled, eager to taste the fluid. I took a swig, almost coughing as the burn tumbled down my throat and into my belly, setting it on fire. “Whoa there, not so fast.” He laughed, handing me a dinner napkin to mop up the dribbles sliding down my chin.
I cleaned it up and set the glass down on the counter, staring at Elijah, wondering what to say. I had imagined this moment for months, but now, finally meeting another human, I had nothing to say.
“You never told me your name.” He watched me tentatively, the anger gone from his face as he tossed back his drink. He was built enough he could throw someone out of a club if he wanted, but he didn’t feel dangerous to me. I hoped my gut feeling was right.
“April.”
“Well, April. It seems you are the first human I have seen in Vegas in a long, long time.” He set his glass down and sat on the edge of his bed. He offered me the spot next to him, to which I shook my head. I was starting to feel a tad uncomfortable standing in a bedroom with someone other than Rye.
“Everyone’s dead.” I managed to squeak out. Sweat was forming on my brow from the liquor, and I was sure I was drenching my maroon shirt with stains. I had hung my machete on my belt in the elevator, leaving me free to wipe my dampened hands on my jeans. He watched my every move, which made me self-conscious, but the need to talk with him overpowered my desire to run.
“Yep, that’s pretty much what’s happened.” Elijah sighed, scratching his head and staring out the window.
“How come you’re alive?” I wanted to kick myself for sounding so stupid.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he mumbled. His dark brown eyes found me again but crinkled with the large smile widening across his jaw. “Glad to meet you, April. I’m sure we would’ve been really great friends.” Elijah stood up and held his hand out to me, still flashing his pearly whites as he waited for me to take the next step. I accepted, slipping my hand into his to give it a shake.
Instead, he pulled me toward him, spinning me around so that I faced away from him, and pinned my arm behind me. He easily yanked my other hand, which was trying to reach for one of my weapons, back behind me as well. I bucked up and down, trying to hit his face with my skull or stomp his feet, but he was well trained. He dodged my efforts easily, pulling me snug against his chest, his head cradling mine as he waited for me to calm down.
His rough stubble scratched my neck, making me pull away as his hot breath trickled down the side of my face. He smelled of cologne and clean linen. Pleasant. So why was he doing this? Up until that point, I had not felt a threat from him at all.
“The city is not safe. I wouldn’t dream of harming you, but I’m warning you now. Go back to where you’re hiding and stay there. Don’t ever come back, and don’t tell a soul about me, or I will kill you.” With that, he pushed me forward.
I stumbled to the floor, catching myself on a chair with my arms, which now burned from the restraint he had me locked in not a moment before. I glared at him, wide-eyed and furious. He had his sword out and pointed down toward me, but made no move to use it. “I mean it. Come back and I won’t be so merciful.” He spat out his words, trying to look threatening. Was that concern I saw flashing in his eyes? In a second, it was gone, leaving only the cold stare.
My gut told me it was a farce, but my mind had me scrambling to get up to run out of the apartment, into the bar and out the doors to the lone working elevator. I shoved at the call button, fumbling with my machete in the other, just in case he came stalking around the corner or changed his mind about leaving me unharmed. The familiar ding came fast and I rushed into the box, turning to see if he was there. He was. He stood nonchalantly watching me as he leaned against the wall of the entrance to the club. His face was blank as he let his eyes glide over me and down to my machete, giving me a slight nod before the doors slid shut.
Chapter Eight
Broken
Rye
RYE WALKED TO his car as the sunrise’s unseen tendrils prickled his skin and eyes, making him don his sunglasses. He hopped into the heavily-tinted dark grey Dodge Charger. The shiny exterior of the car was an inky, black pool under the scant moonlight. The air was already heating up, rolling over his skin like a wave of steam. Summer was heading their way, promising long days in the inferno of the solar glare, heating to obscene temperatures that made traversing about the land nearly impossible for him. He hated the summers in Vegas, swearing under his breath that he had to deal with yet another one.
The call of the northern west coast coursed through his veins, making him long for the wet and freezing temperatures of the sea-sprayed air. This place was nothing but dirt and death. Even the land had a way of withering the neglected buildings around him, claiming the structures back for itself. He sped down the mountain road to the even hotter and dismal valley below. How he had come to be anchored in a place like this was beyond his comprehension. He had the urge to keep driving, past The Strip and the disarrayed tangles of garbage, cars and tumbleweeds that littered the streets and highways. Keep on driving until the ocean met him with open arms once more. Only then would he feel safe and sound again.
Oh, how he longed for that day to come already.
Rye wondered if April would join him. He wondered many things about the human girl who had stolen his heart but probably didn’t feel the same toward him. He had watched her pull away, watched her cease her loving embraces and holding of hands until the wall she had built up stood so high around her, he couldn’t reach her anymore. Left out in the bitter cold. And he didn’t even know why.
The hum of the motor made his thoughts drift. He had come to see April and found her lost in her thoughts and quiet. Dinner had been no better. He had tried to coax out of her where she had been all day long. Leaving her brother at the hive while she traipsed around town alone had sent up red flags. She loved to be alone, roam the city and do her thing. But he wanted to join her, to explore with her, spend every living second with her. Yet he didn’t want to suffocate her and push her away. It was such a struggle to let her go and be who she was, but he had to. Otherwise he’d risk losing her forever.
His superior night vision left no stone or bundle of debris unseen. Rye dodged them easily, swerving at speeds that would make most lose their lunches. April hated his driving, and he had watched her bite her tongue as she silently prayed she would live through his hellish driving to see another day. This caused him to chuckle; these small things that made him think of her were the reasons why he kept coming around. He loved her, like he had never loved anyone, even Seraphin.
