Vampires Rule Read online

  VAMPIRES RULE

  by

  K. C. Blake

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

  ****

  Vampires Rule

  Copyright 2011 K. C. Blake

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ****

  DEDICATIONS

  First of all, I want to thank God because He gave me the idea and the skill, walked me through it, confirmed it through other people and kept me from quitting when I was tired. I also want to thank the following people in no particular order: James and Shirley Poe, Natashia Harris, Jonathan Canada, William Kumbier, Stacie Schott, and Robert and Kerry Stewart.

  ****

  Table of Contents

  Chapter1-A BOY WITHOUT A HOME

  Chapter2-SLEEPOVER WITH A HUNTER

  Chapter3-MORTAL AGAIN

  Chapter4-A SENIOR AT LAST

  Chapter5-TROUBLE ON THE FIRST DAY

  Chapter6-THE WEREWOLF POPULATION GROWS

  Chapter7-MORE BAD NEWS FOR JACK

  Chapter8-A KISS A DREAM AND INVISIBLE CLAWS

  Chapter9-TWO WEREWOLVES ARE MORE DANGEROUS THAN ONE

  Chapter10-JERSEY MAKES A CONFESSION

  Chapter11-JACK'S FIRST HUNT

  Chapter12-NEW MONSTERS CHECK IN

  Chapter13-SUMMER FINDS OUT ABOUT SILVER

  Chapter14-WHEN FRIENDS BECOME ENEMIES

  Chapter15-FIRE!

  Chapter16-THE HOMICIDAL JANITOR

  Chapter17-A TRIP TO JERSEY'S HOUSE

  Chapter18-DECIDING WHO TO KILL

  Chapter19-THE SECRET BENEATH JERSEY'S HOUSE

  Chapter20-BITE ME

  Chapter21-SUICIDE BY SUNLIGHT

  Chapter22-BETRAYAL...DECEIPT...MURDER

  Chapter23-GOING OFF TO WAR

  Chapter24-THE BATTLE BEFORE THE WAR

  Chapter25-A BRAND NEW DAY

  Chapter One:

  A BOY WITHOUT A HOME

  The vampire stood in the shadows and stared up at the farmhouse he used to call home. No longer the bright sunny yellow his mom had chosen, the exterior had been covered with a muted olive tone. This small difference knocked Jack off-balance. For a fraction of a second he thought he might be at the wrong address.

  Had his brother sold the farm?

  His gaze skimmed over the dark windows, two on the bottom floor and four on the top, searching for signs of life. The porch light glowed with an eerie, almost palpable presence that warned Jack to stay hidden, but he had to know if his brother was gone. Focused on the task, he walked into the light and crept up the porch steps. He slowly crossed to the huge bay window. He leaned in to peer through the dirty glass.

  A wild drum solo broke out in Jack’s pocket. He jumped backwards and tripped, almost falling off the porch before realizing it was only his stupid cell phone. An electric guitar joined in, adding to the ear-splitting racket. He patted his pockets, frantically searching for the thing while he scanned the yard for movement. This wasn’t exactly the covert operation he’d planned. His fingers closed around cold metal, and he answered without checking Caller ID. It could only be one of three people; his vampire friends were the only ones with the number.

  “You’re going to die!” Lily shouted.

  Jack flinched. With a jerk of his hand, he put a few inches between the cell and his traumatized ear. Lily’s warning barely registered; his mind was on other matters. He was about to break into his childhood home, ten times in ten years. Although no one was around and the house was in a sparsely populated rural area, Jack tried to keep the noise to a minimum. He glanced around again to make sure Lily’s high-pitched freak-out hadn’t stirred up trouble. No telling what creatures lurked nearby.

  “Hello?” Lily yelled, “This is serious! According to the cards, you’re going to die within the next three hours.”

  “Well, I already died once. What’s the big deal about doing it twice?”

  Jack went to the front door and considered it from every angle. Under normal circumstances a vampire couldn’t enter a house uninvited, but as long as Billy kept something belonging to him and didn’t sell the place, Jack could enter anytime he wanted. He waved his hand over the doorknob and heard the lock click. Billy hadn’t moved. Relief and excitement flooded his system as the door swung open, silently inviting him inside. Cool. No matter how many times he used his powers, the same tiny thrill rocked his senses. A short-lived laugh escaped his dry throat.

  “This isn’t funny, Jackpot!”

  A scowl replaced the smile and he warned her, “If you don’t stop yelling at me, I’m hanging up.”

  “You have to stay away from her.”

  “Away from who?”

  “That girl in the fuzzy pink sweater. She’s the reason you die tonight.”

  Jack looked around the empty porch, confused.

  Lily babbled on. “She has long hair, but the color is kind of hard to pinpoint. I’d say it’s either dark blond or light brown. Doesn’t matter, I guess. Um, she’s short and thin but not skinny, and her eyes are deep blue. She’s not classically pretty, not to me anyway, and she’s definitely not your type. Just stay clear of her. She’s trouble.”

  “The cards told you all that?” Dry amusement altered his tone.

  “Don’t be a smartass. After I did the cards, I had a vision. This is serious. When you see the girl—and you will—walk the other way.” There was a short pause. Sometimes Lily hesitated on purpose for dramatic effect. It made his skin itch. “No. When you see her, I want you to run the other way.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Promise me.”

  He shrugged. “I promise.”

  “Say it like you mean it.”

  He rubbed his tired eyes. The house called to him. More than anything he wanted to go inside and take his annual trip through the rooms, mentally relive better days, but Lily had ruined everything with her kooky vision crap. His brother might show at any second, spoiling his return visit. Time slipped through his fingers like tiny grains of sand. Every muscle in Jack’s body tightened.

  “I promise,” he said. “I swear on my grave. Okay? Do you need it in blood?”

  “You don’t have to get snippy. I’m only trying to help.”

  “You caught me in the middle of something important.”

  “What?” He could practically see her twirling strands of curly blond hair. “Where are you? What are you doing?”

  He disconnected the call and returned the cell to his pocket. For a moment he stayed where he was on the porch and tried to picture the mystery girl Lily had described. His mind could only produce a vague rendition of a fairly pretty girl. Lily shouldn’t worry. He had no intention of taking a stroll in the sunlight or getting into a fight with a hunter. He especially wouldn’t get himself killed over some random girl.

  He took a deep breath and entered the house. Each bittersweet step reminded him of what he’d lost. He’d give anything to have his old life back. Anything.

  The foyer hadn’t changed. He smiled at the yellowing wallpaper, cream-colored with tiny purple flowers, as he remembered the day his mother had brought it home. There was a small coat closet to the right and an arch next to it that led to the kitchen. His mother had put a small table on the left because his father wanted to drop his keys the second he entered the house. An arch leading to the living room, also on the left, beckoned to him but Jack didn’t want to venture into there yet. The stairs with the ha
ndmade railing he used to slide down as a kid lay directly in front of him. Maybe he should go upstairs, take a look at his old room.

  His heart ached for his family. On an average Thursday night his mom would have been in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner while his dad watched television, beer in hand. Depending on their ages, Jack and Billy would have been doing homework or wrestling around in their room or running around town with friends.

  With the exception of Billy, the entire Creed family had been murdered by a werewolf.

  Jack strolled through his former home, his fingertips skimming the tops of possessions, stuff that had been passed down to Billy. He loved touching tangible evidence that once upon a time he had been human. His brother had kept everything: Jack’s old baseball cards, his variety of sports trophies, and a photo of him the night of his Junior Prom. He picked up the frame, stared at the picture. The name of his date stayed just out of reach. He remembered his mom insisting on taking the photo. Guilt over giving her a hard time made his heart sink.

  Another regret in a long line.

  Jack tripped over a discarded book on the living room floor. A curse word slipped off his tongue. Billy wasn’t much of a housekeeper. There was an inch of dust on practically everything in sight, and Billy’s dirty clothes were scattered around as if he didn’t know where his closet was at.

  A reluctant smile stretched Jack’s lips, but it froze at the sound of footsteps on the porch. He sniffed the air. Billy had returned. Now what?

  Jack spun around the center of the living room in a full-on panic, needing a quick place to hide. Although he could move faster than any human on the planet, he couldn’t make it out the back door without Billy hearing him. Besides, he couldn’t resist the temptation to see his brother.

  A key rattled in the lock.

  Jack held his breath.

  The front door opened.

  Jack zipped across the foyer and jumped into the coat closet. He left the door open a crack to allow him a clear visual. For some reason Jack had expected Billy to be a fifteen-year-old boy, but his brother had passed him in years and in inches. Jack silently calculated. Billy was twenty-five now. He had become a man, a pinnacle Jack would never reach.

  Billy entered the foyer with a canvas bag slung over his shoulder and a handful of envelopes in his hand. He dropped the bag while looking at the mail. Piece by piece he went through it, tossing each envelope to the corner table after giving it careful consideration. He stopped abruptly, lifted his head and frowned. He scanned the room as if he too was vampire and could sense his brother’s return.

  Fresh from a fight, there was a rip in his jeans, a bruise on his cheek and a bleeding cut above his left eye.

  “Hello?” Billy called out, hesitant. “Is someone here?” He slowly revolved before saying a single word beneath his breath, a word that sent shock-waves through the vampire in the closet.

  “Jack.”

  Jack’s eyes widened. He caught an audible gasp with his hand and sank further into the closet, allowing darkness to temporarily devour him, but he still felt exposed as if Billy could see him through the door. Hiding in the closet had been a dumb idea. Hell, the whole breaking into his family’s home had shown a serious lack of good judgment.

  If his friends ever found out he’d risked exposure, they’d tear his head off.

  Billy headed into the living room, and Jack released a slow breath between clenched teeth. Hissss. The scent of Billy’s blood pulled him forward until he had his face pressed into the crack. Tempting. Hunger pains began deep in his stomach. The ache expanded like ripples when a stone is dropped in still water. His fangs slid forward, protruding from hidden pockets in his gums.

  No, he was not going to hurt his brother. Jack shook his head back and forth hard, gasping for breath and trying to control the monster inside. He couldn’t hurt Billy. His hands clenched into fists. Resting his forehead against the door’s wooden frame, he regulated his breathing. It took a great deal of effort.

  He silently chanted the words again and again. I am not going to kill my brother. I am not going to kill my brother. I am not going to kill my brother.

  Or worse—change him into a vampire.

  Billy returned to the foyer, shook his dark head and mumbled, “Okay. Have it your way, bro.”

  The words sounded almost sinister.

  Jack’s eyes popped open. He must have imagined the words. Billy thought he was dead. There was no way Billy could know he was in the closet. It wasn’t fair! Why did he have to lose his life? A murderous rage climbed to the surface. He tried to calm himself, took several more deep breaths. He couldn’t afford to lose his temper, not when his brother was this close.

  Billy took the stairs two at a time, and Jack sighed with relief.

  He slowly stepped out of the closet and went to the front door, careful to open it without making a sound. Billy thumped around upstairs. Jack took one last look at his past. In the blink of an eye, he was gone. Before Billy could reach the foyer, he was miles away

  ****

  Next stop on the comeback tour: the local graveyard.

  He stood over the grave of a boy named Jack Creed, a boy long ago dead but only temporarily buried. The grave belonged to him, his final resting place. What a joke! He squatted in front of the headstone and traced the letters of his name in the cold, hard granite. It was a repulsive yet necessary tradition.

  Jack’s foul mood sank further south.

  He needed to pull himself together before rejoining his friends. Cowboy didn’t appreciate sentimentality of any kind. The eldest member of the gang (a ripe twenty-two on the day of his death) thought he was bending over backwards as it was to accommodate Jack’s weird thirst for nostalgia by making the annual stop in Nebraska.

  Jack remembered the first time he’d returned to the cemetery with his friends in tow. Lily had freaked out. “It’s bad luck to see your own grave,” she’d said. “Turn around three times and spit to ward off evil. It always works for me.”

  “Silly superstition,” Cowboy had insisted, yet his eyes wandered the graveyard as if he expected ‘evil’ to attack him.

  Summer had been the only one not to give him a hard time. She at least tried to be understanding even though she didn’t get it either. The rest of them had adjusted to their second identities long ago, embraced life as vampires. Not Jack. He couldn’t let go of his past.

  Jack lifted his chin and sniffed the air.

  He smelled two things at once: one stronger than the other but not as pleasant. Because the two odors mixed before invading his nostrils, it took him a moment to mentally decipher the information. Of course it helped when he looked up to see one of them, a girl standing a few tombstones away.

  He knew her in an instant.

  It was the girl in the fuzzy pink sweater, the one Lily had warned him about. He tried to remember every word Lily said about the girl. There had been confusion on her hair color. Jack made a mental note to tell Lily it was like warm honey. It spilled over the girl’s shoulder in soft waves, blocking her face from view so he couldn’t tell if she was pretty or not.

  She stood over a grave, oblivious to his presence.

  What had he promised to do when he saw her? Run? Problem was his feet were glued to the ground. Something about her held him in place. He couldn’t move. He didn’t want to move—unless it was to close the distance between them. His fingers itched to touch her. She smelled intoxicating, a lovely floral scent mixed with a hint of sweet fruit.

  The other smell grew stronger, forcing his attention away from the girl. He realized what it was and his heart dropped to his feet. He quickly scanned the surrounding area. It only took him a moment to find the owner of the offensive smell: a werewolf.

  Jack hated werewolves more than anything else on earth. They were rotting, stupid, stinking animals. As Cowboy often said, “The only good werewolf is a dead werewolf.”

  It stepped from the bushes, still in human form, but it was just as deadly minus fu
r and fangs. It had the power to rip apart its prey with invisible claws that only a vampire or another werewolf could see. Jack clenched his teeth to keep the frantic warning in his mouth. There wasn’t anything the girl could do. She couldn’t outrun the beast. She definitely couldn’t win in a fight. That left him as her only means of survival.

  To be killed by a werewolf was horrible, painful beyond description.

  The wolf snarled. The girl jumped to her feet, took a step backwards, hands stretched out in a defensive maneuver. Jack could hear her heart beat faster. It drummed a hundred miles a second. He had to do something. He had to save her.

  The werewolf attacked.

  The girl whipped around, bringing her foot up in a hard arc. Her heel hit the werewolf in the face. The force knocked it back a few feet. It growled, and saliva glistened on human looking teeth. The thing quickly regained its balance and lunged a second time.

  Jack watched in awe as the girl fought with the werewolf. She had the grace of a dancer and the strength of a gymnast. In all his years he hadn’t seen such an incredible sight. Maybe she didn’t need him. Since a single scratch from a werewolf could kill a vampire, he was reluctant to join the fight. As long as she could handle it, he might as well hang back and watch.

  The werewolf swiped at her with invisible claws and missed.

  Figuring it was on the losing end of a long battle, the werewolf changed forms. It seemed to melt. The liquid metal molded into an animal as if invisible hands were working on it. It transformed from man to beast and snarled at her with sharp teeth. Now it was a wolf complete with fur. The thing’s eyes glowed, liquid gold flashing in triumph. It had the advantage. Hand-to-hand combat would no longer work.

  The girl froze. She and the beast stared into each other’s eyes for what seemed an eternity. The only movement was the slight lift and fall of the girl’s chest as she took slow and even breaths.