Eventide

Page 9

They both nod.
“Let’s split the city up,” Eli says. “And meet back at the historic district and take that section together.” He glances around. “Preferences?”
“We’ll take Tybee Island, Skidaway Island, and Isle of Hope,” says Phin.
Luc nods. “We got the South side up to Victory Drive, east and west.”
Eli nods. “All right, we’ll take Garden City and work our way through the industrial area and meet up at Forsyth Park. You know the routine. Clubs. Businesses. Dimly lit areas. Hangouts. These newlings aren’t breaking into homes. Too much work for them. And they’re looking for more youths.”
“What about Noah?” Luc asks.
Noah Miles is a vampire, also bound by Gullah pact to protect Savannah’s sister city, Charleston. He’s probably one of the most beautiful beings I’ve ever laid eyes on, with his unique dreadlocks and flawless pale skin and mercury-colored eyes. He knows it, too. When we’d fought against Valerian’s newling army in Charleston, Noah had been right there with Eli. Only Noah eggs me on. He wants to see me fight and trusts me to handle myself. Unlike Eli.
“They have their hands full right now,” Eli says. “There are just as many newlings running in Charleston and surrounding areas as there are here.” He glances at his father. “To break this, we have to break Valerian Arcos.”
“And that seems impossible since he can shift bodies,” Phin says.
And if what Vic says is true, Valerian can’t be killed anyway.
“Okay, let’s get going,” Eli says. “Mama, Papa”—he heads to the door—“be good.”
“Always,” Gilles answers.
At the door, I stop Seth. “Hey,” I begin. “I’m sorry, okay?”
My brother looks at me with those big, expressive green eyes, and right now they’re filled with hurt. He hugs me. My heart melts, and I hug him back. I want to keep him in my arms forever. Safe. Alive. Sweet. “I’m just not myself, Seth. I don’t know what’s happening.” I pull back and look at him. “My DNA, I suppose. It’s acting all crazy and I can’t control it. I’m having wicked dreams that seem so realistic, and I guess it’s putting me in a terrible mood.” I shake my head and knock Seth on the jaw lightly with my knuckles.
Seth studies me for several seconds, and he pulls me into one last embrace. He kisses the top of my head. “I love you, Sis,” he mumbles, sounding like the much more grown-up sibling. “Be careful.”
“I will, and love you, too,” I say. “And you be careful.”
Riggs is leaning against my Jeep when I walk out. Ankles crossed, arms over chest, looking way too cocky for his own good. “What say I ride up front with you, babe?” he drawls and glances at Eli. “You won’t mind, will ya bro?”
Eli smacks him on the back of the head as he gives him a shove. “In the back, Squirt.”
Riggs shrugs and gives me a sympathetic look. “Sorry sweetheart. Maybe next time.”
I can do nothing more than roll my eyes and shake my head. What a goober Riggs is. “Maybe so,” I respond. He smiles. I climb in the front seat, and Eli drives. We take off for Garden City.
Even though the October night air is cool, we keep the Jeep’s top off for easy access in and out of it. Besides, Riggs and I both handle temperatures a lot differently now, so it has to be really cold for us to be bothered, or really hot. This night, my long-sleeved shirt is all I need. The temp is about sixty-two degrees.
Eli downshifts as we hit the squares, the night air cool as it brushes my cheeks. I close my eyes against the wind and inhale the brine of the salt marsh. Unfortunately, the closer we get to Garden City, which is just outside of Savannah, the brine turns into a stinky sulfur smell. Paper mill. It’s enough to make you gag sometimes. Thankfully this night, it’s not too bad.
Eli’s hand slips over my thigh and rests there as we drive, and the sounds of the night, the wind, lure me into a calm rest. I’m not asleep; I still hear Riggs’s iPod blasting in his ear. But I’m lulled. Yeah, that’s what I am.
A flash of light illuminates a face hidden in a dark hoodie. Jaw unhinged. Fangs dropped. Eyes white, pupil pinpoint red. He lunges at me—but the face isn’t a newling. It’s me. I scream—
“Riley?” Eli says, his hand wrapped around my arm, shaking me. “Wake up, we’re here.”
My eyes flutter open, and the moment they focus on Eli, he shifts, his jaw unhinges, his fangs drop, and he lunges for me.
Part Three
MALEVOLENCE
This is all new to me. I mean, I know it’s not old shoe to Ri and Seth, but they’ve been involved a lot longer than I have. They’ve had time to adjust. They have powers. Almost like…they’re not all the way human anymore. I am. One hundred percent. Which means vulnerability to the nth degree, and it scares me. I’m scared of losing Ri and Seth, and I’m scared of…monsters. Of what they’ll do to me. Luc promises to keep me safe, and I believe him. But who’s going to keep Riley safe? She’s not herself lately. Not at all. She’s…mean-spirited. And there’s a look in her eye that seems, I don’t know, predatory to me. I don’t understand what’s going on with her, but I hope to God this is all over with soon. I know our lives will never return to normal, but as close to normal as possible is okay by me.
—Nyxinnia Foster
“Riley?”
I blink, and Eli’s face returns to normal. “Yeah?”
He studies me longer. Scrutinizing. “We’re here.”
The night air surrounds us, a blanket of darkness void of streetlights. I blink. We’re at the Amtrak station just off of 516. These hallucinations are beginning to be a pain in my friggin’ ass. “Okay, let’s do it.” I unbuckle and swing out of the Jeep. Riggs is already standing at the hood.
He draws a deep breath, then jumps onto the hood. He glances first at Eli, then me. “I can smell ’em.”
“Well let’s go then,” I say with way more enthusiasm than I really feel. I’m getting used to hiding my true feelings again now that Eli can’t read my thoughts. Dangerous. Seriously dangerous.
I don’t know what you’re thinking anymore, but I can certainly interject my thoughts into your mind. Just as you can. So if you need me, Riley, for God’s sake, call me.
Startled by his sudden mind infiltration, I look at Eli over my shoulder. Is it a coincidence, my thinking of his inability to read my mind and his weird interjections? “I will.”
I mean it.
So do I.
“Better,” Eli says. “Now come on.”
The three of us head out into the night. It’s about nine p.m. With the Jeep stashed down an unused maintenance lane, we cover the mass of metal as we search the yard, old train cars, unused track, toolsheds. In the distance, the main Amtrak station depot has a faint glow as the lights burn. I can hear the people inside, what few there seemed to be. Some wait to catch a train. Some to pick up a passenger. All going about their ordinary lives.
None privy to the extraordinary creatures that slip through the night.
The train yard is full of shadows, and Eli leads us to a row of empty cars. In unison, we swing and bound up the side of the car closest to us until we land on top. The wind blows and I catch a whiff of something dead. A rabbit maybe? It’s been dead a while, I can tell that. The stench is nauseating. I almost gag.
Eli stands, a silhouette. He turns his head, inclines it, and without words, Riggs and I follow as the eldest Dupré begins to leap the train cars. Eli’s eyesight is nocturnal—he can see just about anything, at any distance. His hearing is acute, but not as severely as mine. Nor is his scenting as specific as mine.
I sense them. They’re here. Three of them. I sniff the air. They’ve just fed.
Across the yard to the left, behind the maintenance sheds.
Eli doesn’t question me; he doesn’t even look at me or acknowledge the words I slipped into his mind. Instead he leaps off the train car and moves in the direction I say, then cuts left behind the sheds. I head right. Riggs is two steps behind me. We silently bound over stacks of railroad ties, steel beams, cargo trailers. In seconds we’re in a maze of metal and wood. In the distance, the nine-thirty overnight train to Chicago blows its whistle. No, I can’t tell the destination by the whistle. I Googled the train schedule on my iPhone.
Ahead of us, between two cargo trailers, are the newlings. On the ground, a motionless heap that had no doubt been a live heap not too long ago. The scent wafting off the dead human sickens me, and I suddenly realize it isn’t rotting flesh or decay. The trace of remaining blood is stale. Stagnant. Dead. It all but chokes me.
I wonder how I can even detect it. Or worse—why it bothers me so much.
All at once, Eli, Riggs, and I surround the newlings. The first one notices us and instantly morphs. He lunges straight for Eli. I take my eyes off of them and find the other two. Behind me, I hear the newling gurgle as Eli twists off his head. I’ve learned that sound and know it anywhere. Both remaining newlings have turned, fangs dropped, and they bound for Riggs and me. Briefly, I keep my eye on Riggs. I forget how talented the little prick is. He sweeps a leg out and knocks one newling to the ground and is on him immediately, plunging a silver dirk into his heart. I turn and almost get coldcocked by the newling attacking me. He’s big, out of control, and as rabid as a new vamp comes. I know he will not go down easily.
This newling is fast. Fucking fast. In the blink of an eye he’s on me, has me by my throat and is lifting me up. My hearing picks up Eli’s voice. He’s swearing. Now he’s running. Unlike a newling, I have to have air to breathe, and this idiot is squeezing so hard I can barely draw in a breath. I can feel my larynx crushing under the weight of his fingers. But before Eli reaches me, I’ve got my legs wrapped around the newling’s neck. He’s strong as hell, but so am I. With one hand I reach for the silver sheathed at my waist, grab it, and jack it upward. It plunges into the newling’s eye and, as I thought, he turns me loose. I yank out the blade and bury it in his chest. He stands there, stunned, and begins to convulse. I deliver a single kick. Down he goes. Standing there in the train yard, surrounded by shadows, I bend over at the waist and breathe.