#BloodOmen 1: The #Vampire Wars (Excerpt)

By K. R. Davies

Second Edition. Copyright 2015 #KatieRuthDavies

(First Edition, Copyright 2013 Katie Ruth Davies)

All Rights Reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means – by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise – without the prior written permission of the author

Chapter 1

'Wake up.'

I rolled over in the bed, trying to ignore the voice whispering softly in my mind.

'Wake up.'

I pulled the duvet up, snuggling further down. It wasn't morning yet: I didn't want to let go of the comfortable safety net of sleep.

'Wake up, Dea.'

The voice was more insistent now.

Groaning, I sat up and opened my still tear-sore eyes to the darkness of my bedroom, slowly picking out the dark-on-dark shapes of my desk, chair and wardrobe and the clothes scattered messily on the floor.

"Who's there?" I whispered, but saw no-one.

Looking at the green readout of the digital clock on the bedside table, I saw that it was only one o'clock: I’d only been in bed an hour. I almost flopped back down to sleep, but something was nagging at my brain and I knew I wouldn't get rid of it until I checked it out.

I reached out and found the lamp switch and squinted against the sudden brightness. Once my pupils had adjusted, I got out of bed, automatically grabbing my hair-band and tying my hair into a ponytail as I did. I could see I was the only one in the room but I had an almost overwhelmingly strong sense of another presence somewhere in the house.

I crept out onto the landing and quickly stuck my head in the bathroom and then in mum's bedroom. Both rooms were empty.

I stood at the top of the stairs, shivering slightly in my skimpy nightshirt, refusing to be afraid as I stared down into the darkness of the living-room.

"Hello?" I called out, putting false strength into my voice.

Predictably, nothing answered. So I started down, thinking as I did: this is one of those classic horror film moments when the audience is screaming at the young victim, 'Don't go down there!' I tried to smile but fear froze it into a grimace. I moved slowly and carefully- my feet being guided by experience to the steps that didn't creak -with wide eyes trying to see through the impossible blackness.

As soon as I got to the bottom of the stairs, I felt for the light switch on the wall and flicked it. Suddenly every corner of the room was lit up, clearly showing me what a pigsty I’d let it become: videos, DVDs and CDs had been left wherever they’d fallen when mum or I had last watched or listened to them; dirty coffee mugs, magazines and this evening's pizza boxes almost completely hid the beautiful woven rug that my mum had bought for us two flats ago- a rare addition to the usual rented furniture we lived with. The sofa and armchair were reasonably clean, though the cushions had frayed and needed replacing, and the rucksack, with all my college books inside, lay scruffily where Karen had left it on the telephone table near the front door.

"This room is a tip!" I told myself in disgust.

But at least it didn't contain a mystery intruder: which left the dining-room and then the kitchen at the back of the house. Thankfully, though, they were just as deserted as the other rooms. In fact, looking at the state of the kitchen, I would’ve been more embarrassed than frightened if anyone had been there.

Leaving the lights on, and explaining away the whole experience as the remnants of some nightmare I must have been having, I headed back upstairs.

As I walked into my room, I suddenly realised how unnaturally hot the house was. I'll have to get someone out to look at the central heating, I thought to myself as I pushed open my bedroom window. It was the old-fashioned wooden-framed type but instead of the half-opening sash style, my window opened wide in two separate panes. I smiled as I let the cool night breeze blow into the warm room, gently lifting my hair as it passed, and making the open net-curtain whisper against the wall.

The garden beneath my window was dark and quiet. I took deep, calming breaths, recalling my earlier tears with embarrassment now, knowing that my mum would’ve expected me to be stronger than that, knowing that from now on I would have to be. For her and for me. I looked out into the darkness of the garden and suddenly all my thoughts condensed into a single thread of terror; my heart doubling its pace at the sight of the two tiny circular pinpoints of light that had appeared on the lawn. I stared at them, not daring to move, not daring to breathe; remembering again the disembodied voice that had woken me. Then I heard a meow and the lights blinked out.

"Thank God! It's just Barney!" A rush of air escaped my mouth and I breathed free again. Barney was the neighbour's cat. "Now will you please stop scaring yourself?" I scolded myself. "You're getting paranoid!"

I laughed at myself. But even so, I couldn't stop myself from taking a quick look under my bed before I got in it: just to make sure there were no monsters hiding under there with the old teddy-bears and dirty socks.

"Happy now?" I asked myself as I got up from the floor. I nodded. "Good."

I’d just pulled back the bed clothes and was about to climb back into bed, when an icy finger of certainty and dread ran its way down my spine.

He was here. In the room. Behind me.

I stood still, fingers clenched tightly around the duvet; willing the feeling away; willing my heart to stop its renewed pounding.

Then he spoke.

"Turn around, Dea."

I obeyed.

 Chapter 2

After the first shock of recognition of what he was, came relief that he wasn't Him- the vampire from my nightmares: I’d never seen this one before. I wondered if that was better or worse. He looked to be in his late twenties and had sandy wind-tousled blonde hair and pale green eyes and his complexion, though as pale as the others of his kind that I’d seen, was slightly flushed as if he’d been running or…feeding.

Oh god, I thought, please say he's already fed!

He was wearing black jeans, a tight t-shirt that showed off his gorgeous muscular chest and a black leather jacket. He was sitting on my window-ledge, one knee up, his left arm resting casually on it; the other leg hanging down inside.

He watched me watching him, saying nothing and remaining completely still.

"You expect me to invite you in?" I asked, once I found my voice; my heart beating hard and loud against my rib-cage. My mind was flicking through all the information I’d picked up about vampires: a mental fact-file full of the films I’d watched, the books I’d read and the things I’d heard. What he did next made me suddenly realise that I really didn't know truth from fiction.

He smiled, his eyes shining in amusement, and stepped down into the room.

"Thank you, but it's not necessary."

I swallowed and took a small step back. "Why are you here?" I asked.

"Don't be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you." His voice was as soft aloud as it’d been in my head.

I waited, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable in my too-revealing nightshirt.

"I've come to take you away."

I couldn't help it: despite the fear and uncertainty that I felt, I laughed. It just sounded so clichéd: like a line from an old Hollywood romance.

"Come...to take me...away?" I laughed.

He frowned angrily and I quickly sobered. I swallowed again, wondering how sharp his fangs were and how strong he was and…I shook my head and focussed.

"Take me where, exactly?" I asked.

"Away from here. Somewhere you'll be safe," he replied.

"Where?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't," he said, taking a step towards me.

"And why aren't I safe here?" I asked him, putting my hands on my hips.

"Because we can protect you better if you are with us."

Now it was my turn to frown. "Protect me from what? And who's 'us'?"

"Too many questions and we don't have time." He stepped closer and for the first time I saw how tense he was; agitated, impatient, and he seemed to be listening for something- his head occasionally half turning towards the window. I tried to back away from him again but this time my legs hit the side of my bed and I could go no further.

"Please trust me, Dea. Your life depends on it," he said, taking my hand. His skin was cool and soft.

I shook my head stubbornly and pulled my hand away. "This is crazy. I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on."

He was about to speak when we heard the sound of tyres screeching to a halt outside the front of the house. Then a voice called urgently up from underneath my bedroom window.

"Elias, they're here. We have to get her out of here now."

The #vampire, Elias, turned back to me and looked deep into my eyes; pleading.

"Lydia would have wanted you to go with me," he said, carefully emphasising my mother's name.

"How do you know...?" I asked, dumbfounded.

Then I heard a window being shattered in the front room and adrenaline and self-preservation temporarily overrode the confusion.

"I'll come," I said. I grabbed up a pair of jeans, my trainers and a black vest top off the floor and ran over to the window where Elias stood. I looked down and saw another vampire- this one black-haired and somehow vaguely familiar (though at that moment I couldn't place him) -standing outside the back door some six metres below me.

'You have to jump, Dea,' I heard him say in my mind.

"I can't," I whispered, images of broken limbs flittering horrifically through my brain.

'Yes you can. I'll catch you. Trust me,' he reassured me.

I threw down my clothes and then climbed precariously up onto the sill. I could hear feet running up the stairs.

"Go. Now," Elias commanded from behind me.

"This is crazy," I muttered again.

I leaped into the night.

The vampire caught me and set me down. Elias landed lightly on his feet beside us. I picked up the clothes and we ran.

As we turned the corner of the house I glanced back up at my bedroom window and saw a pale hooded figure staring right back at me, ready to jump.

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