Page 22 of Of Hearts and Hunters (Fallen Crowns Duet #1)

The man rolls his eyes, tossing his dish towel over his right shoulder. “There’s no way there’s an ambush, boy. There’s a truce. Your Queen and the il Sovrano saw to– auuhhh !” he suddenly cries out, dropping to his knees, clutching his chest.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, following him and taking hold of his shoulder as he continues to grimace. Is he having a heart attack? Chest pains?

“Oh, shit !” he cries out, his curse coming out as a half-growl. I leap backward in surprise. “I’m in transition! First time in bloody years!”

My God.

“What can I do?” I gasp.

The eerie interruption of glass shattering from down the block alerts both of us. We stare at one another in horror. Screams suddenly erupt through the walls, reverberating in our minds like a haunting refrain.

“Get the hell outta here!” the older Korama yells in my face. “Go find Verity. I’ll tell you what you need to know. Warn as many wolves as you can!”

“What about you?” I ask as he hunches over further than before, teeth gnashed together and sweat beading on his brow. He’s in agony–and a target for hungry and vengeful Vampyrs. “Aren’t you vulnerable while in transition?”

“A-Plus for you, kiddo,” he snarls through another tortured growl, bones suddenly snapping out of alignment, causing him to swing his head down and curse. “Get me a wooden spoon, then go out the back way!” he orders gruffly.

I spring to my feet to oblige him as quickly as possible. I yank open drawers, spilling their contents until I find what he asked for. I return, seeing him pale as a ghost, sweat streaming down his rigid face as he grunts under the pressure of more breaking bones. He thrusts out a weakened arm. I hand over the wooden spoon.

“I’m not leaving you like this, …” I trail off, hoping he trusts me enough to tell me his name, to help him through this awful transition. If I abandon him, the Vampyrs will find him and kill him for sure.

The Korama frowns at me, dumbfounded by my proposition. “Bodhi. Bodhi Moon,” he gasps out around another grimace of agony. “And you’re not–” His involuntary scream cuts him off. He bites down on the spoon before it can go on for too long.

I don’t wait for confirmation or approval. I scoop him up as carefully as I can, using my Vampyr speed to rush behind the counter. I set him down onto the floor, the ruckus and hollers from down the block alerting us to battle, to death.

“So, you’re not gonna suck my blood, eh?” Bodhi exhales after dropping the wooden spoon to the wooden floor, his breathing ragged and erratic.

I give him a small smile. “The urge is there, but I have it under control.”

Bodhi gives me the tiniest nod of his head. “Honest to a fault. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re not half-bad, kid.” He sucks in a tortured breath. Maybe he is debating before continuing his train of thought. “My granddaughter–Briony–is with Verity. Please–make sure they’re… Okay. They’re–they’re at 6919 Alpenglow Cres–”

Footfalls echo close to the building. I whip my head around in response, my heart thudding frantically in my ears. I turn to Bodhi, seeing the fear flashing in his gray eyes. I wonder if this is how I looked when I was murdered all those months ago…

“How much longer?” I all but whisper–but there’s no point in being stealthy. The Vampyrs know, sense, a Korama in this bar. They likely sense me, too. With any luck, they'll think I’m a Vampyr on the same mission and move on to the next Korama-populated establishment. But my good fortune has never been good –case in point: I’m a Vampyr.

“Who knows? I’m not as spry as I used to be!” He coughs, wincing as his spine begins to snap. “ Ahhhhh -kay, I’m getting there!” he exclaims just as the sound of splintering wood jerks me to my core.

Time’s up.

They’re here.

“Where are you, old man?” calls a voice I don’t recognize.

Bodhi’s heart skips a beat. I ignore my Vampyric senses, all of which are urging me to drain him of his essence, causing his already-frightened heart to stop beating altogether. I mouth, ‘stay here’ to him and rise up on my feet, making direct eye contact with the three Vampyrs who broke down the doors to the small business.

Three Vampyrs to take out one Korama? That seems cruel, unnecessary. Bodhi must have some notoriety in the Korama community. Regardless, he’s not dying tonight. If I have to defend him with violence, I will. Older citizens shouldn’t be harassed in this way, or at all–immaterial of their faction.

These three Vampyrs are Nightwalkers. I do not know them, but I know they’ve heard of me. They freeze when they see someone from the Vampyr Nobility is in the tavern.

Maybe I can use this to my advantage and not spill any blood tonight–though the thought of doing so to these murderers makes saliva pool in my mouth. They can’t get away with the slaughter of innocent people, like this older gentleman who clearly hasn’t killed or bothered any Vampyrs in decades.

“No need to bother with this tavern,” I tell them. “I’ll take it from here.”

The Vampyr who’s closest to me turns to look at his companions, one male and one female, who are waiting at the dilapidated threshold behind him. They have a silent conversation with one another. All that can be heard is Bodhi’s muffled screams from behind us, wooden splinters cracking from the spoon due to his pressure-packed biting.

“A Korama in transition could be gnarly, Prince,” the Vampyr tells me, finally including me in the discussion. “It’s best if we handled him together.”

I hesitate. This isn’t working. I might have to–

“Come to think of it, why haven’t you killed him already?” asks the woman, tilting her head to the side, ice-cold blue eyes seemingly penetrating my facade. I’m afraid–no, I know –they heard my heart falter at her inquiry.

I’m finished.

“Get both of ‘em,” commands the black-haired Vampyr ahead of the other two. He is clearly the one in charge.

“What? But he–la Reine–” the blond man begins to protest.

“Just do it! He’s clearly in league with the Koramas! You ungrateful little prick!” the black-haired Vampyr lunges at me, fangs outstretched and bloodlust in his eyes.

I shift into a defensive stance, but he is clearly older, stronger, and faster than me. I might not survive this conflict. He is angling at me in mid-air, throwing his arm back–either to hit me or to rip my head clean off my shoulders.

If I die trying to protect innocent people, then at least I know this life–if it can be called that–had a silver lining.

The outraged Vampyr’s brown eyes widen, pure dread drowning his irises. I’m shocked by the abrupt change in his demeanour. An enormous shadow looms over us. The other two Vampyrs, who were in the throes of coming around me to attack Bodhi, holler in surprise.

I turn just in time to see an enormous gray wolf sailing through the air, ducking halfway through the motion so it doesn’t collide with me. The wolf lands on the black-haired Vampyr with a thunderous thud . With a large scraping sound, the creature drags the now-helpless Vampyr across the blood-stained floor, his neck in its teeth. It crunches.

Snap.

My attacker’s head is rolling across the soiled wooden floor of The Azalea Tavern.

“Ben!” the woman gasps.

The other male Vampyr lunges for Bodhi, who in turn hops onto the counter and snarls at his opponent. I look from Bodhi to the two Vampyrs who are circling us.

“There’s no need for more death,” I try to reason, holding out my hand as if to steady them.

“You’re a traitor!” the woman snarls at me.

“I don’t want innocent people getting killed. You’re all breaking the treaty by engaging in this–”

The woman lunges at me, interrupting my protest. We collide and fall to the blood-soaked floor, her grabbing my throat with gusto. I struggle with the idea of hurting a woman–no, hurting a woman again . Never before could I have envisioned such a bleak reality for myself. What has my life come to?

I finally push her off of me, only stronger than her by inches. Perhaps she is a new Vampyr like me. She stumbles only slightly and is just about to jump onto me again when her comrade is thrown into her, knocking the wind out of her. The two Vampyrs fly across the room, smashing through one of the main windows of the tavern.

Hollering from the guest corridor echoes into the mayhem. We need to take this brawl outside so the humans don't discover this supernatural quarrel.

I turn to look at Bodhi, who in turn gives me an expression dripping with sarcasm that seems to say, ‘Snap out of it!’

Though it pains me to think this way, I know I have to be all-in or all-out. Either I let the Vampyrs attack and murder innocent people who are obeying the treaty, or I defend them the best way I can, which might mean I also become the murderer.

How can I decide who lives and who dies? What gives me the right? But at the same time, this genocide is hideously wrong. I can’t idly stand by while the Vampyrs thwart the accord.

Bodhi and I are quick to follow the Vampyrs outside, only a moment behind them–but realistically, that is all they’d need to scatter, even if they were injured.

The black night and falling snow greets us like a slap to the face.

They’re gone.

I’m sucking in a painfully cold breath when something slams into my shoulders, knocking me down to the icy sidewalk. I immediately roll, the woman from before trying to stay on top of me as she claws for my eyes. It will be harder to disarm, or unfortunately kill, her now. She’s filled with vengeance for the death of her comrade.

It sounds as though Bodhi is embroiled in his own conflict behind us; I hear snarling and sounds of combat as the Vampyr and I wrestle for dominance.

Powerful snarls reverberate through the icy streets as more Koramas flood the scene. Humans scream and run as fast as they can to escape the gigantic wolves that are now slamming toward the hordes of Vampyrs descending upon the used-to-be quiet Vancouver cityscape.

I finally grab the blue-eyed woman’s arm and twist it, her scream aching deep within my core as I kick her off of me. As she’s mid-air, a Korama swings through the air and snaps her neck. I jump back in alarm as the Korama lands close enough for me to smell the death and torture on its breath. It opens its mouth, snarling at me as if to say, ‘you’re next.’ Still winded and struggling to get to my feet, I know I won’t have the time to get away from this angry wolf. No amount of Vampyr speed will spare my life–not with this ravenous beast inches from my face.

Bodhi leaps in front of me, intensifying my shock by way of shudders creeping from my spine all the way to my toes. He growls defensively at the Korama, who whimpers in what sounds like confusion and flees the scene.

Bodhi turns to face me, his gray coat with black splotches on his back shining in the eerie moonlight. Though he has fully shifted, his wolf eyes hold the same hue. I realize now that I’d recognize him anywhere.

“Thank you,” I breathe, struggling to my feet.

Bodhi growls when I step closer to him, jerking his large head to his right, deep into Korama Territory. I know what he wants without him having to say a word.

He wants me to find his granddaughter and Verity. I’m not sure where 6919 Alpenglow Crescent is, but I can use the Maps application on my phone to figure that out.

I look around me as humans and Vampyrs alike rush through town, enormous wolves flitting in and out of their way.

This is mayhem! Even a new Vampyr like me can see that. Not only are the Vampyrs violating the peaceful agreement of the treaty, they’re also showing themselves to the human demographic–which is made obvious by some of my own faction ripping out throats and feasting on blood while killing Koramas.

My own senses come alive with the scent and sight of blood all over the block. My ears are ringing. My pulse is racing. My throat is dry with anticipation while my mouth is pooling with saliva. My tongue sweeps across my Vampyr fangs in a desperate manner, yearning for more than the mere aroma of blood tickling my nose. I try to suppress my hunger, my desire, but the pull is damn near irresistible.

Focus! I yell at myself, trying to eclipse the dizziness and aggressive hunger that is pushing me to my breaking point. You need to help these people! And the innocent Koramas!

I grab my temples and squeeze my eyes shut, gritting my teeth so tightly I’m surprised I don’t break any.

People are counting on you.

Zander.

Terry.

Zain.

Bodhi.

Verity.

When I think of her, a cool wave of relief begins to flood my system. I’m still weak to the hunger, the thrill of blood that could be on my tongue this very moment if I succumbed, but I can open my eyes and draw a peaceful breath. A judgemental Bodhi rolls his eyes up at me, likely seeing my inner turmoil.

“I’ll find them,” I mouth to the gray wolf and take off before I can surrender to my urges.

Despite the eerie stillness telling me there is less chaos in the residential part of town, I still have this nagging feeling that mischief is brewing in the shadows. Every pace intensifies the sensation, as if there are ghastly claws dragging their way along my spine.

I hold my breath as I use my Vampyr speed to draw nearer and nearer to Verity’s home. According to my phone’s GPS, it is mere minutes away. With my supernatural ability, it will be seconds.

It’s late–later than I expected. The majority of the Korama community must be shifted by now. Terry mentioned Koramas’ wolf gene triggers when they hit puberty, but it seems that there is a different set of rules to determine which wolf gets indoctrinated into the pack.

What baffles me is that there aren’t nearly as many Koramas wandering the streets as I assumed there’d be. There are quite a few–but not dozens. Perhaps some are still in transition. Maybe some are in hiding. And some could be honouring the treaty and taking refuge in the National Parks.

I finally round the icy corner, closing in on Alpenglow Crescent. I dive onto the driveway, spying the parked Hyundai in the darkness. I rush up the steps blanketed in black ice and bang on the door. I’m met with a breathless chill that radiates within my lungs when the door abruptly swings open with my effort, revealing a foyer shrouded in darkness.

There’s no way Verity and Briony–two Koramas distrusting of Vampyrs as a general rule–would leave their door unlocked.

And then it hits me.

The overpowering smell– thrill –of blood.

There’s blood everywhere.

I don’t need to see it to know it’s splattered all over the house.

The Vampyrs have already been here.

What if the girls are–

“Verity!” I shout, not caring who could discover me as a result of my yell, taking the stairs three at a time. I try to shut out my panic, desperately wanting my Vampyr senses to eclipse my fear. If I relax and zero in on my abilities, I’ll be able to hear the heartbeat of any entity left in the house. I’ll be able to sense Koramas or Vampyrs in the shadows.

I get to the second floor, the scent of blood insurmountable. This must be where the attack took place. What’s more, I can clearly identify a Korama nestled somewhere in the blackness. My heart skips a painful beat at the laboured beat of their heart, prompting me to hasten. Thankfully, there are no Vampyrs lurking about–but perhaps they finished their mission and didn’t need to remain here. That worries me all the more.

Terry’s Vampyr overview swings into my mind as I burst through different rooms upstairs, not finding the source of the blood and slow-as-syrup heartbeat that’s making my knees threaten to buckle. I can heal injured people with my blood. Surely that same power extends to other supernatural creatures. If I rush, I might be able to save whoever is dying here. There’s way too much blood in the air to signal a simple flesh wound.

I finally find the answer I’m looking for. Briony is huddled into herself on the floor of her bedroom, eyes open in slits. Her body is covered in Vampyr bites, the tell-tale fang marks giving away her attackers. I suck in a breath, ignoring how the blood all over her body makes me feel.

This is Briony.

She’s in trouble.

I can’t give in to my urges.

I won’t let it happen a second time–no, a third time.

Snapping bones tell me she’s in transition. Her eyelids are rocking open and closed. Maybe her lethal injuries have slowed down her shifting. I’m unsure. But I do know one thing.

She’s dying.

I need to act quickly.

Maybe it’s her sense of smell, her Korama senses that are still on alert even though she’s in the throes of death, that causes her eyes to zero in on me as I approach her. I don’t know if she recognizes me from the peace party, if she knows who I am. All she knows is that I’m a Vampyr–that I could be here to finish the job.

“It’s alright, Briony,” I try to reassure her, crouching in front of her. I ignore my rollercoaster pulse, my body forcing me to take in the smell of her blood. “Your grandfather sent me. I’m going to help you.”

Briony’s green eyes widen ever so slightly at the mention of her grandfather, but there’s still an air of mistrust about her. After what’s happened tonight, what continues to take place all around us, I can’t say I blame her.

I need to do this swiftly–for her and for myself. If I linger, I might lose control and succumb to my Vampyric desires. Unfortunately, those desires are my own, even if I loathe them.

I swing my wrist to my face, slicing into my flesh with my Vampyr fangs. A splash of crimson pools over my hand. I don’t have time to be gentle or to warn her. I don’t want her to die. I also don’t want to kill her. My blood won’t turn her (according to Terry, supernatural beings can’t become Vampyrs), but I do worry about how she will react to this gesture from an enemy species.

I attempt to suppress the ravenous hunger travelling through me in the form of body tremors, angling my wrist into her mouth. Despite her injuries, Briony writhes and protests.

It must be working because more bones break and Briony’s green eyes abruptly change shape into those of a wolf’s. When they regard me, a chill spins down my spine. I back up just in time for Briony to throw her head back and scream, her tattered clothes ripping apart as she completes the transition.

A red wolf of medium height has replaced the dying woman, still wearing the same green hue in her eyes. I take a step back, wondering if she will submit to her own urges and end me.

Briony shocks me to my core by closing the gap between us and nudging my arm with her large head. She looks up at me, her eyes overwhelmingly thankful. In this moment, I realize the beauty of the Korama race–their loyalty, their empathy for others, their ability to see the shades of gray despite their species-wide disdain for the other factions.

Not all Koramas are killers.

I was correct in my desire to save them.

“You’re welcome,” I tell her tenderly.

Briony must be healed. I don’t see or smell any fresh blood on her fur, her new body.

I glance toward the door, not hearing any other heartbeats in the house. “Do you know where Verity is?” I ask.

Briony’s eyes shift alarmingly at the mention of her close friend. She shakes her head ‘no.’

“Your grandfather shifted,” I report softly, knowing she has to have this information before I leave to search for Verity.

Briony’s jaw drops. She whines instantly, her worry for Bodhi identifiable in spite of our supernatural differences.

“He’s fine. He saved me from a raid. He’s quite spry, for–”

I jump when Briony becomes a red blur, bursting through the front door in a heartbeat. I hear her pawfalls thumping down the steps. She’s rushing down the driveway before I can even turn my head to follow her movement.

I quickly search the rest of the house, desperate to alleviate my dread over Verity’s condition. Could she be dead somewhere in her own home? Surely Briony would have led me to her if that was the case, but I won’t be able to leave without confirmation.

I reach the loft portion of the property, knowing this is Verity’s room by the telltale signs of her personal traits: dark décor, disheveled bed, leather jacket on the floor, and the tattered clothes I recognize strewn about like confetti.

What’s worrying is the amount of blood on the floor and sprayed against the wall. I can’t tell if it is hers or the Vampyr’s who tried to end her life. She has strength as the Kormo, but even Verity is no match against hungry, lethal creatures of the night. ‘Vampyrs don’t fight fair’–isn’t that what she told me long ago?

I shake my head clear of the grief that’s abruptly drowning my other emotions. There is a chance, however small, that Verity could still be alive. I owe it to her to find out the truth.