Page 16 of Bitten Vampire (The Bitten Chronicles #2)

Chapter Sixteen

What on earth is going on? How the heck did I end up here?

I spin, scanning the area. Across the road stands a clump of trees and a sign for Westview Park . Nearby, a group of women in matching T-shirts emblazoned with ‘Pink Ladies’ shoulder leather bowling bags and chatter about today’s lawn bowling competition.

On my side of the street, a mum pushes a pram—the tiniest baby curled inside—while a little boy of about four skips beside her, clutching the handle.

His voice is bright and eager; he chatters about his new baby sister, words tumbling over one another in excitement.

The mum looks exhausted, dark shadows under her eyes, yet she answers every question.

“Mummy, can Cathy come and play on the swings? ”

“Not yet, sweetheart. She’s too little, but soon you’ll be playing on the swings together.”

“Oh, can she watch?”

“Yes, she can watch you play.”

Then the baby wails, a shrill, urgent cry. The mum bends to rearrange the blankets, murmuring comforts.

I notice the boy’s grip loosening, one chubby finger at a time. His attention drifts. Across the road a fluffy dog trots out of the park, tail wagging, tongue lolling. The boy’s eyes widen.

“Puppy,” he whispers.

He steps forward, tiny shoes slapping the pavement.

There’s a car parked to the left, another to the right. He squeezes through the narrow gap, hands outstretched.

“Puppy,” he says again, louder this time, his hand stretching towards the dog.

“No!” I shout, panic surging.

I rush forward, instinct screaming at me to grab him, but my hand passes straight through. I can’t touch him. I can’t stop him!

He toddles farther, oblivious to danger. He giggles.

I hear it—the low hum of an engine. A car, coming fast. I see it before anyone else. It’s seconds away; the driver cannot see him. My breath catches.

“Joshy! No!” his mother screams, finally looking up.

Time slows.

The car is almost on him.

He takes another step, still smiling at the dog.

I scream, but no one can see or hear me.

The car hits. The impact flips him into the air and his small body twists, then crashes onto the road with a sickening thud.

The world erupts in screams—his mother, the bystanders—while I stand helpless, tears streaming down my face.

I jerk upright, gasping. Oh heck. Heart thudding, hands shaking, it takes a while to calm down. Baylor grumbles, touching his cold nose to my wrist. I’m still on the sofa in the living room, phone clutched tight in my hand. I haven’t moved. I was scrolling…

I try to shake off the memory of an impact I didn’t witness in real life. I try to ignore it, but I can’t. Everything inside me screams that what I saw is real. A little boy. I can’t ignore that.

What was the name of the park?

I grab my laptop and start frantically typing, fingers flying as I search.

Westview Park. Yes, I think that’s it. I close my eyes, and the scene re-forms, every detail crystal clear.

It feels as though I’m still standing there.

I have not forgotten a single thing. My vision memory is different: sharper, almost photographic.

I have the place, but I need the time. The Pink Ladies and their bowling competition… Another search—it’s today.

“House!” She can hear me, obviously, but I can’t seem to lower my voice. I’m panicking.

What is wrong?

“I had a vision. I was in a trance. I was scrolling on my phone, and suddenly I was standing in the street. It felt so real—a little boy was hit by a car.” I give the details in a rush .

“I checked: the park is in the Vampire Sector. It’s real, and the bowling competition is today.”

I feel an overwhelming compulsion to save him.

“What’s happening to me, House? Am I going mad?”

The reason you can hear me isn’t my magic, it’s that you are psychic, she replies. You may always have had the gift, and the vampirism is amplifying it. It’s rare—hardly spoken of—but some vampires are special. Do not worry, Fred, we will work it out.

An emerging gift.

One that I’ve been doing my best to shut out for weeks.

“If it’s real, I will need to go to the park and save that little boy.”

I kiss Baylor on the crown of his head and leap up, heart pounding. I dash upstairs and throw on some clothes, nearly tripping as I shove on my trainers.

Tie your laces, House scolds.

“Right, right! I will!” I mutter, fumbling to knot them before grabbing my coat and bolting for the door.

I’m halfway down the path when I realise I’ve forgotten my keys. Spinning around, I see them hovering behind me. “Thanks, House,” I say, breathless.

Be careful. Drive carefully. You won’t save him if you have an accident.

“No, you are right,” I reply, forcing myself to nod before sprinting to the car.

I pull out of the drive, gripping the wheel tight as I head for the Vampire Sector. My brain screams at me to go faster, but I have to be sensible. At the next stop, I slap the park’s name into the navigation, then floor it as soon as the lights turn green.

I barely remember crossing the border. I follow the directions, skid to a halt outside the park and fling the car door open—I don’t even switch off the engine.

I’m almost too late.

“He’s going to get run over!” I yell, sprinting along the pavement. The mother turns at my shout, her scream piercing the air.

Without thinking, I do what I couldn’t do before: I grab the little boy and yank him clear.

He wails, terrified.

I’m holding a child. A real child.

His dark-haired mother—her eyes the same green as his—snatches him from me, sobbing. “Thank you, thank you, he would’ve died.”

The driver climbs out, pale and shaking. “I didn’t see him. He came out of nowhere from behind that parked car. If you hadn’t grabbed him… I—I would’ve killed him. I wouldn’t have stopped in time.”

My heart pounds. The vision was real.

“I think she’s in shock,” someone murmurs.

“I’m all right,” I say faintly. “Just… glad he’s safe.”

I wave awkwardly and walk back to my car. I climb in, buckle up, and pull away—carefully, shakily.

A few streets on, out of sight, I stop and sit while my heart hammers.

The child is alive. He cried because I frightened him, not because he was hurt. The vision saved his life. Somehow, I ended up where I was needed.

That’s… insane.

When I can face the road again, I drive to the end, turn around and head home.