The Jaws of Life

By Fallon Jones

For a high school student, two months can seem like a lifetime—especially if she dies over summer vacation.
Two months have passed since her death, and Holly Hawthorne has finally become a full-fledged angel. Now she is back to avenge her own murder. Unfortunately, someone is already on the undertaking: her immortal boyfriend, Gerard Winchester. To make things worse, Gerard doesn't recognize Holly after her transformation. Damien seems to be the only friend Holly has who can see through her guise- a valuable ally, if she can overlook his arrogance and womanizing ways. Gerard is a different man himself, tormented by the death of his angel at the hands of his arch-nemesis, Viktor.
Can Holly stop Viktor and his undead army before he destroys her, or will she shatter under the pressure of her transcendental life and the secrets she keeps? Will Gerard see Holly for who she is, or will he fall in love with the façade she has become?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fallon Jones
• Release date: Jan 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465796981

Fallon Jones

Fallon Jones is a writer from the rainy state of Washington currently residing in California. She has released three novels, Bite Me. The Jaws of Life, and The Lazarus Serum, which have sold thousands of copies worldwide. This year she received her Bachelor's in Literature at University of California - Santa Barbara's prestigious College of Creative Studies program. When not writing, Fallon can be found strolling cemeteries, rocking out at punk shows, and drinking too much tea at Starbucks.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

BRIDGETTE HOWELL'S DIARY

BRIDGETTE.

This June, I probably would have laughed at Holly when she told me about the world we lived in— where vampires were real (she was dating one), werewolves were scary (I still resent that), and she was being targeted by a centuries old vampire, Viktor, who happened to be hunting her down because of some ancient prophecy; oh, and because evidently, she's an angel. But I can't laugh now. Holly is dead.

So much has changed in two months. I planned on vacationing all summer, until Damien had to ruin everything by accidentally biting me on our first date—which just so happened to be on a full moon. Did I mention he's a werewolf? And thanks to his inability to keep his paws to himself, I'm one too. I'm praying that we don't have any football games on a full moon, or cheerleading is gonna suck.

Praying. That's what I'm supposed to be doing. And remembering Holly, not venting about myself.

Take a deep breath, Bridge. Where was Gerard when you needed him? Gerard is—or was—Holly's boyfriend: dark, handsome, and an immortal, which is why he still blames himself for Holly's death; no matter how many times Aiden (his awkward younger brother) and I tell him not to. Sasha, on the other hand, still blames Gerard, but Sasha hates everyone. Sasha's a vampire, too, so she'll be around for a hundred more years to complain. Viktor is her ex-boyfriend, so she hates Viktor even more than I do—but she got to ambush his vampire-infested mansion with a rocket launcher before Holly died, while Gerard and Holly tried to save the day. And they did, sort of. The prophecy was fulfilled when Gerard and Holly kissed, and Holly became an angel, while Gerard got some superpower we haven't quite figured out yet. Unfortunately, Viktor got stronger, too, and came after them. Holly sacrificed herself so that Gerard would live, and Viktor killed her right in front of him.

No one has seen Gerard since then. All of us split up after Holly's death, because she was the only person that could keep such an incompatible group of people together. I've heard rumors that Gerard went crazy after Holly's death or that the prophecy was too much for him to handle, and how he wanted to get revenge on Viktor, alone; which was really suicide. But Gerard can't hide from us anymore, because Holly's funeral is tomorrow.

None of us are ready.

PART 1

Chapter 1

BLONDES HAVE MORE FUN— ESPECIALLY

DEAD ONES.

HOLLY.

I stared back at the girl in the mirror and pressed my hand to the cool glass, my so-called reflection.

This wasn't me.

Instead of the ordinary high school girl I was used to seeing every morning, this was someone completely different. My wavy chestnut hair that once fell past shoulders now extended to my waist and shone a glossy starlight hue. It was so pale I couldn't tell if it was blonde or silver. The childish freckles that splattered my face had disappeared, leaving my complexion pale as lilies. I looked— well to be honest— quite dead.

What scared me most were my eyes. They were no longer friendly and brown, and they didn't seem to hide my emotions. My eyes were hazel now; but they didn't change color when I moved in and out of the dim light that shown overhead.

They changed with my mood.

Vampires. They flashed gold.

Viktor. My eyes turned such a deep brown I thought for a moment they were black.

Gerard. They flashed back to a bright green. I almost laughed at my new mood ring but stopped. I had bigger things to worry about.

I had to attend my funeral today. Chills shot up my spine at the thought. Everyone I cared about would be there, and I wondered what would be in the casket if I were here. I bit my lip and wondered if I was cut out for this.

If I can keep my mouth shut just for today, I'll do fine. I reassured myself, straightening my black dress nervously.

Just don't talk to anyone. Easier said than done. It felt like years since I'd seen or heard from my friends, but in reality only a month had passed. Death can take a lot out of you, and the only time I'd slept this week was when I fell into a coma for three days after realizing what had happened.

I glanced down at my golden wristwatch (silver was obviously a bad idea). The tiny hands read 7:48, which meant that I had about ten minutes to get to the church.

Naturally, the vampires wanted the funeral to take place at night.

I gave the house another quick glance before I sped out the door. It was smaller than where I'd lived with my brother and a few decades older, but the overall feel was cozy rather than cramped. White walls matched with pale green shutters, and the place smelled faintly of roses.

I still don't know how I ended up there, or why new clothes in my size were already in the closet… But I don't argue with God. I found a modest black Nissan in the driveway and a set of keys in my left pocket.

I hoped I wasn't insane. But even if I was, this was going to make a terrific story for the cops.

I crawled in and shoved the key into the ignition hastily, starting the car. I drove as fast as I could without breaking the speed limit or drawing too much attention to myself. I definitely didn't want to run in halfway through the sermon.

What will my tombstone say? I wondered silently.

Vampire slayer. Angel. Almost a Senior.

Oh God, please don't let my brother be there. This wasn't the year-and-a-half reunion I had been planning for when Jackson came home from the Air Force.

I escaped my thoughts as a large cathedral came into view. I pulled the car into a parking space near the back and frowned.

Wait a minute; I thought vampires couldn't enter churches…

And I thought witches wore pointy hats.

I jerked around to see a man with cologne-model good looks leaning against my car, his amber eyes watching me with mild curiosity. DAMIEN. I have never been so happy to see the sarcastic, arrogant, werewolf in my life.

That's what you are, isn't it? You have a strong aura around you, but you don't smell like a vampire, and—

I didn't know werewolves read minds. I commented, my eyes locking his.

Stop thinking about me! About the old me! Wait, since when can I read minds?

I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead and blinked, hoping to clear my head of the flashing images that seemed to be twisting through my thoughts.

I'm in Damien's head, I realized, trying to sort through his thoughts. I cringed. Didn't need to see that.

You're projecting a telepathic link to me, he explained, tilting his head. Are you okay?

I snapped back to reality and pulled my hand away from my face, thankful that my head was my own again.

Well that went over well.

Damien laughed and stood up, pushing his chocolate hair back from his face casually. We'd better get going, the funeral's about to start. I'm assuming that's where you're headed?

I nodded and stepped forward, pulling my thin blazer around me. It's really cold for August.

Damien nodded and headed toward the church in a somewhat leisurely manner, holding the door open with his foot. I glanced up again as a light drizzle of rain began to fall, darkening the once cheery summer sky.

You can blame them for that. Damien said, pointing out a small cluster of people near the open casket as I stepped inside. Vampires don't usually stick together for very long but when they do, something weird is bound to happen.

I squinted and felt my heart stop. Again. I watched the scene as I stood rooted to the ground, unable to tear my eyes away. One or the other I might have been able to deal with, but I wasn't ready for both yet. Gerard was leaning over the casket, his knuckles white as he stared at the girl inside the open coffin.

I stepped forward cautiously, hoping to get a better view. When I finally reached the side of the white casket, I wished I hadn't let curiosity get the best of me.

It was my body inside the coffin.

Chapter 2

SUNSETS AND CELLULOID

I placed my hand on the cool white marble of the coffin and peered inside tentatively.

It was definitely me lying inside the casket, but what I'd started to refer to as the old me.

Except I was dead.

My eyes lingered on her face, until I felt a pair of eyes watching me.

The living me. The little voice in my head corrected cheerily. This is really weird… I whirled around to see who was staring at me.

The man didn't jump back like I'd hoped he would and give me some space. Instead he kept staring, as if I were a ghost. If I'd known who had been standing behind me, I wouldn't have wanted space anyway.

Gerard, I breathed. The word flowed easily off my tongue, as if I had known it my whole life. I raised my hand from the casket in a dream-like state and reached out to touch him. I lowered it instead and clenched my fist at my side.

Are you all right? I asked, hoping to break his dazed expression. It worked, and he rubbed his eyes with his hand. I'm sorry. I thought for a second— His voice dropped off.

Answer the question! Are you all right? My thoughts screamed. I tried to keep them to myself, and hoped it worked.

Now it was my turn to stare. His long ebony hair was disheveled, and his peridot eyes were bloodshot and lost. His normally strong stance was broken, and he seemed to droop slightly. It was obvious he hadn't slept in weeks. A funeral band hung in remembrance on his right sleeve, bright pink against his all-black attire. I thought I was going to cry at my own funeral—but not for me.

You're here for the funeral, he stated blandly. Were you close?

More than you'd think.

I shifted uneasily. Sort of.

I'm Gerard Winchester, the vampire said, offering his hand. I smiled. I know.

I shifted uneasily on the wooden pew before glancing back up at the ceiling.

How long is this gonna take? I wondered vaguely, scanning the cathedral again. I only recognized about half of the faces at the funeral, fewer who were referring to me as close friends in their eulogies. Not that there was much to say, seeing as none of the vampires or werewolves could actually say anything because nobody that I'd been friends with during my human life knew who they were. I couldn't help but wonder if there had been a funeral for Amy, too. She was my roommate throughout the summer, my friend— or so I'd thought until she sold Gerard and me out to Viktor, resulting in my death. I didn't miss her, but a part of me still ached from her betrayal.

I glanced at the pew in front of me and chewed my cheek, watching as a head bobbed continually.

Why the heck is Damien laughing?

A few other people (well,mostly people) turned toward the werewolf and stared as he continued to snicker. I leaned forward and grabbed his collar when a few more attendees started to grow fur or fangs.

He turned around, but continued to smile.

"What are you doing? I hissed, leaning forward. This is a funeral!"

Really? I hadn't noticed. Especially considering I'm talking to the dead girl. I froze.

What the heck are you talking about? I whispered. Well, when someone dies they—

I know what a dead girl is!

Then what's the problem? He asked, blinking his amber eyes at me in mock-innocence.

I pulled him out of the pew and toward the back of the cathedral.

Wait! I'm missing the good part!

The organ began to play, and I pushed the looming double doors open with my knee, dragging Damien outside.

I yanked the door shut behind us and turned to face the werewolf. What's going on? I repeated.

Damien rocked back on his heels and continued to smile. Y'know, I kinda liked your eyes better before. They weren't as piercing.

I continued to stare until he finally sighed.

"You know I can't stand to see a damsel in distress like this. I'm guessing you came back as a full angel."

I frowned. How did you know?

Damien tapped his nose with his index finger and smirked. I'm part wolf, remember? And I was around you long enough before you disappeared.

Why didn't Bridgette say anything?

"Probably because she doesn't know; she's new to this whole werewolf thing. I did my research when I was turned. There are very few cases when the angel actually figures it out; even less when they're sent back. My guess is that you still have to take care of Viktor."

Sadly, the part that surprised me the most about his speech was that Damien confessed to studying.

Does Gerard know? I blurted out.

He smiled. "No, don't worry. But he is looking into what happens to dead angels."

Could you—

Already got it covered, he replied with a lazy grin. Don't worry; the others wouldn't realize it if you paraded around with your name tattooed across your forehead.

I rolled my eyes.

So, how are you gonna do it?

Do what? I asked suspiciously.

Get Viktor. Does God let you use machine guns?

Damien!

Hey, someone might hear you, he teased playfully.

I looked up and realized I was able to see the sky again.

The stars twinkled and shone through the few remaining clouds, and I let out a sigh.

"I don't actually have a plan yet," I confessed, dropping my hands to my sides. The black dress swirled around my knees as the wind picked up steadily.

Damien raised his eyebrows and grinned, looking skyward. "you might not, but I think He does."

Chapter 3

GET THIS PARTY STARTED

I drummed my fingers on the dashboard of Damien's car absentmindedly as I waited for him to return from the funeral reception. I stared out the foggy window on the passenger's side and traced shapes onto the glass with my pinky, scanning the swollen faces as people began to filter out of the church.

I would have gone back inside to the reception, but if I couldn't keep my mouth shut while the funeral was still in procession, I doubted I could stay silent where my friends and food were involved.

The ironic part was that the only person that knew my secret was Damien. Damien the partygoer, the loudmouth, the sarcastic, narcissistic werewolf. And I'd only known him for a week before I'd died. Yet here I was, sitting in his car and waiting for him to take me to his house and show me books on angels.

I heard the tap of dress shoes on pavement and glanced out the opposite window to see Damien flipping through a keychain carelessly. He popped the correct key in and slid inside the car, pulling the convertible's door shut behind him. He started the engine with the push of a button and began to whistle.

"You could at least pretend to be a little broken up about my funeral." I said, snapping on my seatbelt as he eased out of the parking lot.

He shrugged. Maybe I'm just happy you're alive. Besides, you just came back from the dead to take out an entire coven of vampires! I think that this calls for a little celebration.

I shook my head as Damien's images of celebrating popped into my head.

He turned sideways in his seat to face me. So you've gotten your mind reading powers already, huh?

Eyes on the road! I shouted as a motorcycle swerved in front of Damien's silver Cadillac.

He shrugged carelessly, glancing back at the street.

We're fine. So how long have you been able to do that?

Judge your driving skills?

Damien rolled his eyes. You know what I'm talking about. I seem to recall Gerard saying something about you reading his thoughts, but no one else said anything…

That's because I could only hear his. We spun around the corner of another busy street and Damien accelerated back up to ninety miles an hour. I gripped the edge of my seat. Where do you live?

You'll find out when we get there, he replied casually.

But mind reading is the first sign that you're on your way to getting wings.

I already have them, I replied proudly as we sped down Main Street.

Damien turned to face me again, this time with a serious expression on his face. Did it happen before or after you died?

What, the wings?

No. The prophecy. When was the prophecy fulfilled?

I frowned. Before. Gerard and Viktor were both there. Gerard didn't tell you?

Damien cursed under his breath and gripped the steering wheel until his tanned hands were almost as pale as mine. I felt the car accelerate what felt like another twenty miles and I wondered if telling a crazed werewolf what he obviously didn't want to hear while we raced down the street was such a good idea.

Damien, what's going on? A small tuft of black fur rose on his head and his fingernails elongated. Damien. Turn off the car. I ordered, trying to keep my voice level. Still, no response. Everything beyond the car windows blurred into watercolor. DAMIEN! I screamed and put my hands on the steering wheel, pushing his paws away. "There are people here, Damien. Humans with families. With cameras on their cell phones and access to amateur media. You are either going to run them over or let them see a werewolf driving a Cadillac! Get off the road." I layered my voice with hypnotism and glanced in the rearview mirror. My eyes were gold.

Damien. Look at me. It wasn't a suggestion. He turned to face me, and the muscles in his face seemed to slacken. I held his stare until his face was back to that of a handsome, utterly careless, should-be-in-college student. I kept my hand firmly on the wheel as Damien's foot eased off the gas.

We're here, he said wearily. Damien stepped out of the car and threw the keys over to a valet.

Welcome back Mr. LaPine. the man called cheerily, opening my door. He raised his eyebrows with a slight smirk. You brought another one home I see?

I blushed furiously and jumped out of the car. I'm not—!

Damien cut me off, still grinning, and slung an arm over my shoulders casually, giving the valet a wink. Don't spoil the surprise, Lucas.

Before I had the time to point out to Lucas that I was still fully clothed and at least I was inside the building, Damien pulled me away to an elevator, still chuckling under his breath.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, that was believable Mr.

'Lupine'. Way to be creative."

It's LaPine, which makes it French! Have you ever heard of a French werewolf before? He asked smugly.

Actually I— I paused as a man in a bellhop suit carried something in one hand that resembled raw liver. Damien, what was that? I asked accusingly.

Nothing, he answered as quickly as possible. I continued to stare at him and he gave an innocent shrug. Maybe the residents just like their food rare!

There's a difference between eating a rare steak and a raw cow, I stated, rolling my eyes.

Well, when you put it like that… Hey, if vampires get a secret lair, why can't we?

The elevator doors swept open and Damien pulled me inside, pushing a gold key into the wall and pressing a button for the top floor.

You made a hideout for werewolves? I asked incredulously.

Well—no. He cracked a smile, revealing blindingly white teeth. Because as you can see, I'd hardly call this hiding.

I groaned and leaned against the elevator wall.

Damien—

He raised his hands to the sky. I didn't make it! Believe it or not this place was supposedly here for years! But I kinda get the impression you weren't looking for a wolf den until just now.

The doors slid open and we stepped into a swanky bachelor's pad. I smirked. Penthouse.

He nodded. "Well of course! I don't have to hire security guards anymore, which believe it or not saves a ton of money in the long run, and I don't really need to pay for gym memberships either."

"Who are you?" I asked in wonder.

Damien gave a half smile and then winked. If I told you, I'd have to kill you.

I rolled my eyes. Already taken care of.

He shrugged and leaned back against a leather sofa. True enough.

This place is huge! I gushed, spinning around. The walls were covered with plasma screen televisions, windows facing the blur of city lights, and mirrors.

Of course Damien would need a wall full of mirrors.

Surprisingly, there were shelves of ancient-looking books as well. I stepped forward and picked up a particularly worn volume labeled 'Mal'akh'. The pages were yellowed and felt dry on my fingers. I blew dust off the cover and held it up, eyeing it curiously.

Damien leaned over me and smiled. Your luck amazes me.

What does it say? I asked, cracking the book open cautiously.

Mal'akh. It's Hebrew for 'angel'. He explained. The entire novel's written in Hebrew too, so I doubt you'll understand much.

I flipped through the pages with delicate strokes of my finger. I was half expecting the entire book to fall to dust at any moment.

Dust. I glanced out the window at the rising sun, its coral glow setting the sky ablaze. Gerard's asleep, came the little voice in my head. I hoped he was sleeping again, rather than lying awake in his coffin and mourning… Does he even sleep in a coffin? I never saw one in his room.

I realized how little I truly knew about his life as a vampire, and I closed my eyes briefly. I knew deep down that he still blamed himself for my death, even if it was my choice. And there was nothing I could do to let him know that I was okay.

Well, not really okay, but whatever.

I snapped the book shut and turned around. Damien, why did you get so upset earlier?

He took the volume from my hands and placed it carefully back on the shelf. Which time again?

When I told you about my wings…

His relaxed smile faded and his face grew solemn.

Gerard didn't tell me, or anyone for that matter, for a reason. If Viktor got any of that 'power' foretold in the prophecy… His voice dropped off.

Damien, I need to know—

His eyes flashed silver and he clenched his jaw. Gerard has become a lot more reckless after your death. He's not thinking things through. If Viktor has become any stronger since the last time you fought him, Gerard doesn't stand a chance. And he knows it.

Then he should wait a while and gather reinforcements! I said in frustration. But deep down in my gut I knew that Gerard wouldn't wait.

He's going in on August ninth. Damien explained.

He's going to take Aiden, Sasha, Bridgette, me, and whatever other vampires or werewolves he can get to go along with his ridiculous 'plan'.

But that's in two weeks! You have to stop him! I insisted, my face heating up.

You don't think I've tried?! Damien sunk back onto the couch. "There's nothing I can do; he won't listen to anyone on this, not even