Page 23 of A Wicked Dance of Obsidian and Light (Echoes of Darkness #1)
A fine mist hangs in the air as I enter the dingy alley situated between two aging buildings. The brick walls are stained by time and weather, with patches of peeling paint and graffiti. The drip, drip, drip noise coming from a busted pipe gets swallowed momentarily by the hum of traffic in the distance. The windows I pass are cracked and boarded up, and the pavement underneath my new Dr. Martens combat boots is uneven and littered with trash. As I continue my trek on the narrow alley, I step on something sticky.
Eww.
Earlier, when I arrived home, a box with a brand-new pair of over-the-knee Dr. Martens combat boots was waiting for me on the coffee table. It was beautifully wrapped, and it had a handwritten note that said,
‘Sorry I threw the old ones out.
K.’
I don’t want to admit it, but my insides melted as I opened the box and got the boots out. Aside from Sam, no one has ever done anything as thoughtful as this for me before. I freakin’ loved my Dr. Martens, and the fact that they got destroyed when the umbra chased me equally enraged and made me sad. I can’t believe Kaiden went through the trouble of getting me a new pair. My heart skips a beat when I think about him, and I shake my head, concentrating on my task while repeating my mantra in my head.
He’s a demon. He’s a demon. You’re not attracted to a demon, Iris!
The musty odor, a combination of dampness, garbage, and neglect, alongside the pungent smell of rotting meat, crawls up my nose and makes my stomach roil with disgust as I advance on the alley. My onyx choker warms slightly while I get closer and closer to my target; it only alerts me of the remnants of demon activity.
The flickering lamppost casts eerie shadows as I round the corner. I nearly lose my dinner on the pavement when my eyes land on a zombie chomping happily on what looks to be a human arm in the corner, his back to a chain link fence. Another zombie is digging through the dumpster pushed against the exposed brick wall on my left.
Random human body parts scattered throughout the neighborhood led me to this alley. Zombies are not exactly subtle when they feed, especially since they operate on zero brain cells. When a demon possesses a human, it starts feeding on its soul. After it consumes the soul entirely and jumps to another host, there’s nothing left of the human but a decaying husk with a penchant for consuming human flesh.
The zombie surfing through the dumpster turns around when I take out the sword strapped to my back and approach it. From the long, brown hair clinging in clumps to its scalp and what I can make out of the meat body dangling precariously off its bones, I can tell it was once a woman. It makes a garbled sound from deep within its chest, probably identifying me as its next meal, and stalks toward me. As it tries to grab me, I sidestep its clumsy attempt, and the razor-sharp blade of my sword goes through its rotting neck as I sever its head from its body.
The sound of tearing flesh and a pained animalistic moan fills the alley as the smell of death and rot burns my nostrils. The now lifeless body falls to the pavement with a loud thud along with the head, making the other zombie alert of the threat I possess. It jumps up from its crouched position in the corner and comes at me with a finger still dangling from its decaying teeth, which are partially exposed through hanging, rotting lips. I swear I’ll have nightmares with this exact image for a few years to come.
This zombie is surprisingly agile, probably because it just ate. It brushes against my side as it tries to grab me with its bony fingers before I get the chance to fully dodge its attack. I shudder in revulsion and twirl before bringing my sword down and severing its neck from its body. The head smacks down the pavement, and it starts rolling toward the chain link fence while the body crumbles to the ground with a loud thump. I try not to gag as I wipe my sword on what’s left of its clothes and put it back into its sheath, strapped to my back.
I’m about to exit the alley when a blood-curdling scream pierces the air. Despite my apprehension, I tap into hellseeker speed and sprint toward the loud sound. In another narrow alley two streets over, a man looms over a woman, his mouth latched onto her neck as blood trickles down her clothes. She is crying and trying to push at the man, but he simply grips her in a chokehold against the brick wall and feasts on her blood. Clearly, his strength outmatches hers because he is a vampire.
Since she’s not dead or dying, and assuming he’s part of the Obsidian Conclave, I am technically not allowed to get involved. But I can’t sit by idly while a vampire attacks a woman in front of me.
“Let her go!” I grit out through clenched teeth as I uncoil the whip before swinging it over my head and cracking it forward. The loud snap slashes through the air.
However, the vampire doesn’t seem scared in the slightest. A lazy smile tugs at his lips as he turns toward me like he has all the time in the world. His tall, lanky body is clad in a cheap-looking black suit. “I’m not breaking any rules, hellseeker,” the vampire snaps with an oily voice, his hand still gripping the woman’s throat tightly.
“P-p-please,” the woman stutters. Tears run down her face in rivulets, blue eyes wide and pleading.
My nostrils flare. “I’ll be the one that decides that. Are you a Conclave member?”
He shoots me a bloody grin, which looks downright sinister paired with the translucency of his skin. Extended canines flash in the artificial light cast by the neon sign of the bar across the street. “Of course I’m a Conclave member.”
“Then come closer and show me your tattoo,” I demand, my grip white-knuckled on the whip’s handle.
“I thought you’d never ask.” His smile turns dangerous, all teeth and sharp edges, as he drops his hold on the woman. She falls to her knees, and her gaze flicks to mine. I tilt my head as a sign for her to take the opportunity and run. Before she can move a muscle, the vampire grabs hold of her and thrusts his hand into the woman’s chest, pulling out her still-beating heart. Her face is trapped in a silent wail of horror and surprise as she falls to the pavement in a pool of blood.
Red hot anger bubbles beneath my skin with the force of a hurricane. With a flick of my wrist, the whip coils around the vampire’s legs like a serpent, tightening with a satisfying snap. The vampire, momentarily surprised, narrows his eyes and snarls at me, exposing his fangs. As I’m about to yank him toward me, the shadows around us shift and move. With a dazzling speed, about ten more vampires surround me in a circle.
I have no choice but to let the vampire go and pull back my whip. I welcome the adrenaline that sharpens my vision as a smile curves my lips. I’m outnumbered, and I know my chances of getting out of here alive are slim. I’m not going down without a fight, though.
“What is this, the sparkle convention?” I ask as the grip on my whip tightens, and with my left hand, I feel the weight of the daggers sheathed at my sides. “Wait, don’t answer that. I know what you’re going to say.” I clear my throat and thicken my voice with mock exaggeration. “This is the skin of a killer, hellseeker.”
The redhead in front of me hisses. I guess she didn’t like my joke. Oh well, not everyone can appreciate good humor. I anticipate her move before she lunges at me, teeth bared. Cracking my whip in a figure-eight pattern, I coil it around her ankles and yank to the side using the hellseeker force. She crashes into the other two vampires on my right.
Chaos erupts in the next second.
Everything is a blur, a live wire of electricity zipping through me as I swing the whip in the air, creating a makeshift barrier between me and the vampires while I send my daggers flying. Shouts of agony resound as the daggers find their marks. I’m especially proud when one of them impales an eyeball with a wet crack since I’m using my left hand, my right being occupied with the whip.
One of the vampires manages to catch the end of my whip. He yanks hard. Muscles screaming in agony, I let him pull me toward him as I unsheathe my sword. With a swift arc, I sever his head from his body. Blood shoots out from the cut, and as much as I try to avoid the spray, it still covers the front of my corset. Luckily, none of it got in my mouth. Another one sizes the opportunity and grabs me by the hair. My scalp catches fire as multiple strands snap from the root. In my disorientation, I drop the whip. As soon as I recover, though, I surprise him by launching myself backward, making him lose his footing. I twirl and make a clean cut through his wrist, severing the hand holding my braid from his body.
His agony-filled scream is cut short when I swing my sword again, and the sharp blade goes through his neck. His head bounces off the asphalt as more blood shoots out, some of it getting into my mouth this time. Dammit. As I spit it out, a brawny male vampire, tall as a mountain, who looks like he’s on a diet of steroid blood and could flip a truck with the flick of his finger, comes at me.
I thrust my sword forward, and he catches the blade mid-air, yanking it from my grip easily as if he just took a toy from a toddler. He throws it to the ground and punches me so hard my head flies to the side with a sickening snapping sound.
The metallic taste of blood coats my tongue as I stagger on my feet and blink a few times to clear my vision. My right leg shoots out in a powerful kick that he blocks with ease.
The vampire that was feeding from the woman earlier shouts, “Don’t kill her! We need her alive,” before the beefy vampire picks me up by the throat and hurls me at the brick wall like I’m a rag doll.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
I collide with the bricks so hard my lungs rattle inside my chest. The world tilts on its axis as shockwaves of white-hot pain pass through my entire body until I feel my bones vibrating. It blinds me momentarily with its intensity. Blood trickles down from the back of my head, warm and sticky as I fall to the cold asphalt with a loud thud. I suck in a jagged breath only to let it out in a muffled cry as I try my best to get up and fail.
A strange feeling slithers through my veins, like a newfound energy fighting to the surface. I don’t have the strength to stop it if I wanted to. But before I can make sense of what is happening to me, I feel the prick of a needle in the side of my neck, and everything goes black.