Just A Taste: The Night Lords, #1

By Rae Evergreen

Based in a post-apocalyptic world, seventeen year-old Isabelle Grace is forced into the hands of the undead. Torn from hiding and thrown into a life of lust, fear, and hunger, humanity has been enslaved by vampires and now, after three years of isolation, she must face the worst of them. A vampire has discovered her and he has no intention of ever letting her go. Suddenly, Isabelle finds herself questioning who she is as her body and mind fall victim beneath silver eyes and a hypnotic voice. As the immortal world begins to drag her deeper within its dark depths, her past resurfaces to bring old scars to the surface. Should she chase after something that could very well lead her back to the monster that nearly killed her three years ago? The same monster that murdered her family? Or should she just continue to run away? All the while, the vampire that seeks to devour her body and heart will hunt her down no matter how many times she escapes him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rae Evergreen
• Release date: Feb 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9781736689608

Book preview

1. Curiosity Killed the Cat

My dad was a paranoid psychopath. Every Sunday, he'd take his truck out to the store to load up on dried goods, food that could be stored for long periods of time and come back looking like he just won the lotto. My mom gave up a long time ago on convincing him the world wasn't going to end. I guess she came to appreciate his issues later on.

The garage became our bunker in a way. He couldn't afford to build an underground safe house so he settled for that instead. If anyone were to ask, I'd say we were getting ready to donate to a big charity, planning on posting a YouTube video of the world's largest food haul, or pretend that my family liked to hoard food. Just like mom, I'd been embarrassed about my dad's obsession. Now, he's the reason I'm alive.

Clutching a can of beans to my chest, I stare at what's left of the stash. Twelve cans of vegetables, six cans of fruit, a couple packages of dried beef, and a container half full of Twizzlers. My gaze falls to the empty shelf on the floor that used to be filled with water. If I continued to ration as I have been, I had about a month, maybe two. Then, I'd have nothing.

I turn off the garage light and leave, shutting the door. In the kitchen, I pry the can open with my handy can opener. I scoop a cup's worth onto a plate and sit down alone. The dim light seeping through the thick, ivory curtains provides just enough of a glow for me to move around without tripping over anything. Conserving electricity has been a huge concern of mine ever since the microwave stopped working. It's already bad enough I had to live the night in darkness. I was not fond of the possibility I might have to do the same during the day.

I finish my serving of beans. Gathering my plate and spoon, I'm about to clean it at the sink when a light set of knocks sounds from the back door. The plate slips from my grasp to go crashing to the ground.

I whirl, facing the back wall of the kitchen where the knocks came from. The back door had a small window up top, its view obscured by a pair of gauzy, white curtains. Still, it does nothing to hide the shadow of someone standing outside. My gaze stays locked on the male silhouette as I stumble across the room towards the speaker plugged into the wall. I hit the play button. Alec Benjamin's emotive voice drifts through the house just as another voice reaches for me through the door.

Hello, Emmy.

I stay absolutely still, frozen between the living room and kitchen doorway. His silhouette moves. I can tell he's now leaning against the side of the house, arms crossed.

He sighs, his ability to transmit his voice into the room allowing me to hear the gentle breath. Today's been uneventful. Jacques tried to get in another quarrel with me. He was trying to steal my meal again, not that it matters. The blood was bland, anyway.

I swallow, feeling disgusted. It's always been like this. Ever since he stumbled across my house four weeks ago, he's been coming here every day after doing who knows what and starting up a conversation. Well, a one-sided conversation. That first day, he tried to persuade me to let him in and I've been wary ever since.

It was strange, listening to a vampire vent about his daily routine. I hated how he didn't bother filtering anything, meaning he liked to divulge himself in every detail, including the parts in his life when he would feed. It sickened me to know he killed someone- be it a woman, a man, a teenager- every day. Though, on the other hand, some twisted part of me was glad to know there were others out there still, humans fighting to survive. At least I wasn't alone on this planet.

Other than that, I found myself interested in most of what he had to say. He spoke of meetings and relations between vampire clans. Nothing important, of course. He never gave me any secret information, like, what their weaknesses were. It was mostly personal opinions on what might be going on. He would commend decisions made by the Night Reverend— some group I guessed had some sort of authoritative power over all the leeches. It was no surprise to me that most of their decisions had something to do with controlling the 'blood flow.' Apparently, there were humans out there like me, hiding or on the run. Then, the vampire told me that the majority of my kind has been taken into slavery. I've caught on to the fact I shouldn't expect to hear anything good. He made it obvious he only shared news that would undoubtedly lead to me feeling disheartened. It's like having the radio stuck on that one station nobody wants to listen to.

In addition to his aberrant duty to deliver morbid reports, the vampire generally speaks of his own affiliations. I say 'affiliations' because he speaks negatively of everyone he knows. Especially over someone named Jacques. Vampires could bicker, love, reason, and everything else, so it seems.

I hated it. It made them almost normal.

At times, I would wonder what his motive is behind these talks of his. Was he trying to make me develop some sort of... compassion towards him? Maybe build trust? I considered it a possibility. He was a murderous, deceptive vampire after all.

You seem to like Alec Benjamin a lot. Is he your favorite artist? The vampire chuckles, not expecting me to answer. I never did. I was impressed, you know. The day you cranked up that music in order to drown me out. Smart. Still, you wanted to know what I had to say so you turned it down, not off. Does my voice still entice you, Emmy?

His nickname for me was interesting. He explained to me once, since I refused to give him my name, that he was giving me the name Emmy because of the color of my eyes. Emmy was short for emerald, I guess. Another bout of silence ensues.

Are you mad at me? He almost sounds concerned.

I press my lips together, my eyes burning with fresh tears as the question arouses memories of last night. My cat, Milly, was dead. My only companion, the only soul I could hold dear to me since my family disappeared, was killed by the wretched vampire outside my door. I knew why he did it. Milly had been my savior. Each time he would turn on his attractive voice, or whatever, Milly would come screeching and yowling into the room to snap me out of my hypnotized daze. I'd known my fluffy little angel since she was a kitten. She had meant the world to me.

All the vampire did was catch a rat. He had dangled that sucker in front of the doggy door in the front. I forgot to seal it last night. I usually left it accessible during the day so that Milly could go outside to potty. It's never been a concern for me that she would get hurt. My brother and I did it even when we knew the vampires were out because my dad had reassured us that Milly would never be caught. I blame myself for her death. The vampire was just a convenient source to direct my anger at concerning said matter.

It's not good to attach yourself to things, Emmy. Comes the velvety voice, seductive and warm. You could always talk to me. I'm certainly more reliable than a cat. His voice turns calculatingly smooth. I wouldn't leave you. My heart beats faster as he pushes off the wall, placing one slender hand against the window. Despite the fact he was nothing but a shadow through the flimsy fabric hanging limply over the top half of the door, I could feel his eyes on me just as strongly as if he were standing right in front of me with nothing between us.

Say something. He prompts.

A sudden feeling to appease him and his request makes me open my mouth, a whisper of sound escaping my lips. I automatically reach up to cover my ears and the feeling eases. I swallow, closing my mouth once more. The vampire tilts his head.

Emmy?

I return to the living room, snatching up the remote to my Echo speaker and turning the music up some more. I glare at him as I skip to a more upbeat song. Alec's soundtrack fills my head, cutting off all sound; the hush of my socks as I walk, the sound of ceramic pieces scraping across the floor as I sweep up the broken plate with a broom I snatched from the closet.

His voice.

When his shadow disappears, I don't think much of it. I've already gotten used to the fact he does either one of two things. One, he lingers somewhere outside, or two, he leaves.

How long this will last between us, I wish I couldn't say. But that's not the case. As soon as I'm out of food, I'll have no choice but to face the outside world. Unfortunately, I know he'll be waiting for me too.

2. Nightmare

Something was wrong . My mom's smile was too stiff, my dad's hug too tight, my brother's gaze too guarded. Again, I catch my twin's arm just as he's about to grab his bag.

Where are you guys going?

Nowhere, Bells. I told you, it's nothing you need to be concerned about. His emerald eyes, my eyes, shift away. I narrow my gaze.

Liar.

If it's nothing to be concerned about, why can't I go? I was annoying him. His jaw was set and I could see the irritation in his face. Gently removing his arm from my grasp, Oliver picks up his bag to sling it over his shoulder. He leans down, kissing my brow before ruffling my hair, something I despised. I ran my fingers through it, scowling. We were both fourteen. I don’t know why he always has to act like he’s older just because he had a growth spurt before me.

We'll be back before you know it, Bells. Why don't you read your Harry Potter books? That should help you pass the time.

He turns to leave. I reach for him. No! He can't open the door! Oliver grabs the doorknob. I want to close my eyes but they stay open. I know what's coming next and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

Oliver opens the door. The vampire on the other side smiles, my parent's blood staining his teeth. My scream mingles with my brother's as the demon rips him apart.

I OPEN MY EYES TO UTTER darkness. My blood is racing, the sound of my heart pounding seeming to thunder outside of myself as a cold sweat breaks out across my brow. Fear, an all too familiar friend of mine, wraps its chilly fingers around my spine before dragging jagged nails down my back.

Where's the light?

I can feel my eyes darting back and forth but all I can see is black. I bolt upright, willing my eyes to adjust to the perpetual shadows that were beginning to take shape thanks to my wild imagination. I was starting to hyperventilate. Patting the sheets beside me, I feel around for the flashlight I always bring to bed. As soon as my fingers brush the cool, steel handle, I grab it and switch it on. The white beam is glaring and I breathe a sigh of relief as it kills almost every shadowy monster that had been creeping closer in my mind.

The light is shaking and it takes me a second to realize it's me. I set the flashlight down on my bedside dresser, beam up so that the light could be distributed throughout my room evenly. My eyes then trail the length of my room towards my closet. The door was cracked. When I'd gone to bed, I remember using the closet light as a nightlight.

With my knees pulled to my chest, arms wrapped around my legs, I stare at the inky sliver that somehow returns my gaze.

They can't get in unless I give permission.

I repeat this to myself over and over again, trying to dampen the paralyzing fear taking over my shaking limbs once more. Nyctophobia. I developed this intense fear of darkness three years ago, the day my family disappeared. The same day a vampire almost took my life.

Tears start streaming down my face as I think of my nightmare. It was the same one I had every night. It always made me relive those final moments I had with my parents. I would have that last conversation with my brother, and then...

They would all die.

My twisted, sadistic imagination always changed the ending. Sometimes I'd watch my parents die, sometimes my brother, sometimes all of them together. Other times, they'd leave and I would do what I did that day. I would open the door to look for them. They were never there once they were gone. Instead, I would be greeted by a vampire, maybe more than one, but he would always be there. The vampire that almost got me.

It's not until the light in my room becomes natural that I stand. My feet drag as I cross the room to close my closet door. Another day has arrived and I can't help but feel cheated. I hate it when my nightmares keep me up all night. It gives me the worst kind of anxiety during the day, especially when that stupid vampire shows up. I hope today might be one of those days he's unable to make time for a visit.

Making sure to grab Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire off the floating shelf above my desk, I tuck it under my arm and proceed to head downstairs to start my usual routine.

For breakfast, I eat a bowl of peaches. I store the second half of canned fruit in the fridge for later. I do my morning yoga, some aerobics, and settle down with a bit of stretching. After that, I take a quick rinse in the shower before heading back downstairs to read. By midday, I'm halfway through the Goblet of Fire and feeling hungry again. I eat the rest of the peaches. Tossing the can in the trash, I suck the lingering juices off my spoon, not wanting to waste even a drop. Today was Wednesday. I would be out of food by Friday.

Meaning I would have to leave to resupply.

I brush the thought aside. I don't want to think about it. At least, not today. I clean my spoon and return to the living room to collapse on the couch. Picking my book up from the floor, I finger the thin pages, listening to them sigh against one another as I flip through. This is like, the twenty-third time I've read the series. It was a nice distraction but I was starting to get sick of it. Potter's problems seemed more and more trivial every time I read about them. First off, he only has one person trying to kill him. Two, he knows how to defend himself. I mean, he gets a wand for crying out loud! Then there's the fact he's not entirely alone. Friends, teachers, he has people looking out for him everywhere he turns. I, on the other hand, am completely alone. I don't have a magic wand to help me fight the bad guy and I don't have any greater purpose in life to rid the world of evil. No, I'm just a normal seventeen-year-old girl whose biggest concern is making sure she has what it takes to live in a world where her kind no longer has any rights.

Emmy.

The pleasant voice shakes me from my reverie and I automatically get up to turn my music on.

Wait. Distress taints the vampire's voice and I hesitate, my finger hovering over the play button. Listen, he says. The rest comes out so fast I have trouble keeping up. Jacques is coming. He wants to know where I go. Why I leave in the middle of the day. You have about two minutes. I need you to be quiet for me, do you understand? You mustn't let him know you're here. He will find a way to get you, Emmy, and if that means calling on others to help him tear this house to the ground, he'll do it.

My blood runs cold, my eyes going wide as what he's saying sinks in. What?

I'm going to lead him away from you. He continues, sounding frustrated. This is the first time I've heard him sound so ruffled. I'm too scared to care much about it, though. An hour tops, Emmy. Stay still and quiet for one hour. Wait until you hear me tell you it's all clear before you do anything, do you understand?

It sounds like he actually wants me to answer him this time. After four weeks, he wants me to say something. Just one word. I don't, though.

He sighs. Don't let him know you're here.

And he's gone. I'm not sure where he'd been standing outside. His voice projecting trick, or whatever you want to call it, doesn't seem to give one any idea of where he might be located. After another second of deliberation of whether or not this was just a joke, I lied down on the ground to wait. Well, look at me, listening to a vampire. He didn't even have to use his hypnotic voice either.

3. Decoy

The Vampire

Blood splatters across my clothes, my arms, my face. I close my eyes, relishing her screams before finishing her off with a slight twist of the head. So breakable, humans. They were like little rabbits, brittle and soft, always looking for a place to hide. After emptying the woman's corpse of her sanguine fluids, I toss the body aside. Two servants come skittering into the room, heads bowed. Their white suits, the attire of slaves, are crisp. With practiced hands, they lift the lifeless human into their arms without sullying their clothes. I don't bother to watch them leave.

So bland. I drum my fingers on my knee, suddenly feeling regretful that I fed on that last woman. The Blood Master promised she would give me a good time but, alas, here I sit, unsatisfied and more irritated than I had been this morning. She was sold to me as a pleasure slave and I ended up using her to quench my thirst. It was getting worse. My need for my little green-eyed girl was especially strong today. It put me in a bad mood.

That will be another fifty grand for the Blood Master. I'm sure he'll be displeased to hear you killed one of his best slaves for pleasure over a little tummy ache.

I grind my teeth, the sound of Jacques serpentine voice sending a streak of hot, murderous rage through my torso. My hand twitches, claws itching to come out, but I manage to keep them retracted.

I glance left. Leaning languidly against the wall beside the door to my office, the snowy-haired vampire flashes me a wicked grin.

Get out. The underlying threat in my voice is obvious. You'd have to be stupid not to listen.

Jacques saunters further into my room.

Any plans today? he asks, sounding suspiciously innocent.

My upper lip peels back from my fangs. Why would it matter to you?

Jacques is beside the back wall. A massive bookshelf filled with hundreds of volumes covers most of it. He strokes the spines with one alabaster hand. His red lips crack into a smile. My eyes narrow.

Why don't we go on a hunt? The blood slaves have been disappointing me lately and I'm just dying for something new. He chuckles, a tinkling sound that makes me think of bells. I don't join him. His poor attempt at humor was revolting. Just like his presence at the moment.

Leaning forward in my chair, I smirk, though it's not because I'm amused. I have no interest in hunting with you. Besides, we have a meeting at noon. I sit back and turn my chair around to face my desk. Documents from the Reverend were scattered across my workspace. They'd given me the task of sorting through last week's productivity since they killed the actual man responsible for such a time grating job. A messenger informed me that a new sorter would be available come tomorrow evening. Until then, my hands were tied.

Hence the reason my purchase of a pleasure slave. Sorting blood production papers was a maddening process, at least for me. I haven't been able to visit my Emmy since last Sunday. Clearly, my frustration cannot be mitigated with sexual play.

A shadow suddenly falls over my shoulder and I tense as Jacques slides his slender hands around my chest. One hand slips beneath the fabric of my shirt to glide along my skin. When cool lips press into the nape of my neck, a finger circling my left nipple, I let out a low growl. Catching his wrist, I'm up and pinning him to the wall with both wrists locked above his head, my fangs mere inches from his face.

"Don't. Ever. Touch me again." The vicious snarl that follows emphasizes my command. Jacques lets loose with a laugh that one might find enchanting. I, on the other hand, am one of the very few able to resist his allurement. His violet eyes gleam with excitement.

"You're so fun to mess with, my lord." he purrs. I'm tempted to rip his throat out right then and there, but I knew that dealing with him dead would just waste more time than dealing with him alive. Unfortunately, he wasn't just some lower vampire I could kill without having to worry about consequences.

But, I think to myself, there's no rule prohibiting me from harming another vampire like him.

I release him, but not quite. Holding on to one hand, I intertwine our fingers and smile. A look of skepticism flits across his face. Before he has the chance to realize what I'm doing, I squeeze.

Hard.

Jacques screams, falling to one knee. He snarls, staring at his crushed hand in mine. With a furious glare directed towards me, the claws of his free hand shoot out. I don't even flinch when he digs them into my arm, trying to make me let go. He digs deeper and blood starts to seep from my arm onto the floor. But, as he does, I shift my hold on his hand, grinding the shattered bones around and he screams again, letting me go. I smirk, amused.

"Next time you decide to 'mess with me,' I say, voice cold. It will be your skull that I crush."

Alright! he snaps. Just let go of my hand!

I return his glare and squeeze harder. His screams reverberate off the walls. I loosen my hold a bit and he stops, now kneeling on both knees before me, panting. Despite his condition, the masochistic parasite actually smiles, licking his lips.

Tell me, where do you go every day?

I still, my breath catching the slightest bit. He doesn't miss it. His smile grows.

Where do you go? he asks again. What could possibly be so interesting that you must leave? Why do you come back smelling... imperceptibly different?

Releasing his hand, I step back, giving him a look of disgust. Get out.

Jacques gets to his feet in one fluid motion. Cradling his ruined hand, he begins to back towards the door. You wouldn't mind if I take a look, would you?

A challenge. If I denied him, it would confirm whatever suspicions he had of me. If I let him go, though...

I don't care what you do. Just get out my office. With that, I return to my desk.

He's gone before the door has a chance to click shut.

"Damn." I push out of my chair. In less than a second, I've dawned my coat and am balancing on the sill of my window. I focus on the grounds below. The sun, a scorching disk in the sky, leaves no path or crevice untouched. A pale figure streaks across the open land, disappearing into the distant tree line.

Jacques.

I leap down off my third story window, landing without a sound before taking off immediately. I stop once I get to the trees. I had no doubt he would find her. How long it would take to do so is what I'm counting on. Thanks to my precautious nature, I had various trails, many of them false leads, that would occupy Jacques for some time. He wasn't that good of a tracker. Not like me.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and concentrate. My voice is a whisper, my lips barely moving. Power surges from my center and throughout my limbs. Honing it into a single line of transmission, I imagine its path. Through the trees, past the city and into downtown, then the suburbs and a bit further. As soon as I'm in her neighborhood, I cut through to a quaint, two-story house that sat at the top of a gentle knoll. Windows and doors sealed shut, curtains pulled tight to block out the world, the house seemed untouched by the chaos most other homes have undergone. There were no broken pieces of furniture strewn across the lawn, no glass shattered or walls damaged to make the shelter unrecognizable.

It was a house that has never been breached by a vampire. Emmy's house. Unlike my body, my power inches forward, past the walls and into the home. I can feel her.

Emmy.

I feel a pull, a shift in movement. She was going for her speaker, the device she uses to block me out. I speak again, worried she might not listen. Not this time, though. If she ignores me this time, it will mean the end for her.

Wait. The pull eases. Listen, Jacques is coming. He wants to know where I go. Why I leave in the middle of the day. You have about two minutes. I need you to be quiet for me, do you understand? You mustn't let him know you're here. He will find a way to get you, Emmy, and if that means calling on others to help him tear this house to the ground, he'll do it. I take a moment to feel her out. It seems like she's just standing still. Irked by her lack of response, I finish what I have to say. I'm going to lead him away from you. An hour tops, Emmy. Stay still and quiet for one hour. Wait until you hear me tell you it's all clear before you do anything, do you understand?

I wait, hoping she'll answer just this once. When she doesn't, I grit my teeth and sigh. Don't let him know you're here.

I open my eyes and run.

I remember the last time I did this. A little over a month ago, I'd been on the hunt for a rogue. Jacques is nothing like a rogue but this little game of his was giving me a sense of déja vu.

It had been too easy. The rogue had left a trail of blood and gore in his wake. By the time I caught up to him, he'd been in the middle of feeding on another group of human strays. The fight had been short and sweet. Surrounded by so much blood left me in no mood to play games like I usually would. Afterwards, I wandered a bit. It's rare to see so many vagrant mortals in one day. The moon had been a pale tear in the sky, clouds working overtime to wipe her out. When the rain started, it was then that I stumbled across the house.

It seemed so, inconceivable, the situation. Even after everything that's happened, there is still one who stands tall against all odds.

Lifting one hand to my face, I lick a stray drop of blood from my finger as I flit to one of the first-floor windows. I look down at my pale fingers, fluttering them slightly before reaching for the window. The sill was rough beneath my fingertips. I grasp the wooden strip and pull.

Nothing.

I scowl, applying more force, but the window wouldn't budge. Then, just as I'm about to exert all my strength, an intense jolt of pain suddenly lances up my arm and into my chest. I yelp, jumping back nearly twenty feet to stare at my arm in shock. The pain had been instant yet nothing but a flash. I'm sure that if I'd held on much longer I would've turned to ash. My lips pull back as I let out a frustrated snarl. I remember cursing the stupid laws of nature or whatever it is that prevents my kind from entering another's home. I start muttering a string of profanities under my breath as I turn to leave.

And I would've... if the curtain hadn't been thrown aside at that exact moment.

It was a girl. Her wide, emerald-colored orbs glimmer with fear. Ebony locks frame her delicate face, her fair cheeks flush as blood warms her soft flesh. She was pretty, for a human. I wasn't sure at first if she could see me. Human eyes are weak and useless in the dark. With the rain pouring down in sheets, I knew I was invisible. I stare at her for a moment longer before moving. I see her expression turn wary as she peers into the darkness. Her mouth moves.

Dad?

I stop walking. There were others? I wait, listening, but only her heart beats from within. The girl gets up suddenly, flinging the window open and leaning out. She calls someone's name, looking in my direction. I smile.

How entertaining. She thinks I'm a friend. I start walking again, taking it slow. I think I want to play with this one. As I near, I reach back to pull my hood up to conceal my face. That's when something in her face changes. I flash forward a second too late as she slams the window shut. The girl is on the ground, having fallen backwards, staring up at what might appear to be a shadow of a man, warped by streaks of rain on the glass between us.

Tilting my head, I lean forward and inhale. The window, the house itself, does nothing to conceal the girl's scent from me. As soon as her fragrance hits my nostrils, a new wave of hunger takes hold and I can feel my fangs elongating. Her smell alone is mouthwatering and I just want to devour her. I want to savor every drop, take it slow to enjoy such luscious blood even longer. A low growl rumbles deep from within my chest and I forget the possibility of pain as I place both hands on the window, my expression feral.

Open the window, I order, my silky voice saturated with the desire for her virgin blood. To a human, my voice should be hypnotic. "Please." I breathe, weaving power into the single plea. For just a moment, she appears to be entranced, eager to answer my call as she scrambles forward. I watch her, excited, as she unhooks the latch once more. Just before she opens it though, an alarming screech suddenly snaps her out of it. A dark blur slams into the window and I step back to stare at the hissing cat that glares at me, teeth bared.

I hiss back, flashing my own fangs but the vicious feline is unruffled. Before I have the chance to persuade the girl again, she jumps up, grabbing her cat before closing the curtains in my face.

That was the last and only time I've ever been able to look at her.

Breaking free of my reverie, I step out from between two buildings. I was in the downtown area of the city. Cars, nothing but empty husks on the road, created a maze of sorts. I ignored all the different smells, focusing on the one scent I knew to be Jacques's. It weaved in between vehicles before suddenly shooting skyward towards an abandoned apartment complex to my right. I smirk. Leaping into the air, I catch onto a ledge and climb the rest of the way until I'm on one of the terraces of the thirty-seventh floor. I ease through the already opened sliding doors.

Jacques is perched on the bed, scowling at a cabinet of files left open from my last visit. I lean against the wall, arms crossed. Find anything you like?

His violet orbs flash with irritation. For once, I thought the perfect Dark Lord might have a flaw. He sighs, one delicate hand fluttering up to brush a silver tendril behind his ear. I see his hand is already healed, if a bit red. Same as my arm which finished healing as soon as I left my office.

I'm disappointed. he murmurs. Standing up, a graceful fox now bored with his silly game, Jacques saunters to my side. I stare back at him, unexpressive. His smile is anything but friendly.

I thought you didn't care what I did.

The meeting has been pushed forward. I came to get you. I deflect his unspoken inquiry with ease. His lovely face falls into a bored scowl.

Fine. He leaps from the window. I take a step and pause, looking back at the room. This wasn't the end. Jacques might have believed this decoy, but it was only a matter of time before he finds out where my true interests lie outside the Night Reverend's territory. With a quick message sent to Emmy, I follow Jacques back to base. The only way to prevent Jacques from getting to Emmy, was for me to get to her first.

All I had to do, was make her listen.

4. Broken Rule

Three wood planks were nailed across the front door from within, a reminder given to me by my fourteen-year-old self to never open this door again. Backpack slung over my shoulder, boots securely tied, hair pulled into a ponytail, I stare at the iron knob. It's been a week and a half since the vampire came to visit. His final words to me had been ironic given what he is.

You're safe.

I wasn't stupid enough to believe anything a vampire said. Right now, though, I'm thinking I'm out of my mind. Down to two cans of food and a single bag of dried beef, I have no choice but to risk a trip to the store.

On foot. For eight blocks.

Steeling myself, I grab the first plank and pull. The wood creaks, nails biting into the wall, stubborn to stay put. It was three years ago that my family made the exact same trip. We'd been running low on water for my mom. She'd been sick.

Crack.

The first plank clatters to the floor. I grab the second one. My dad told my brother to stay at home with me just before they left— a last-ditch effort to protect his only son. I could see it in my twin's eyes that he would rather go with them. To this day, I ask myself whether or not it's selfish of me to wish I hadn't pushed him out the door. All because I'd been annoyed by the fact he'd probably complain the whole time our parents were gone.

Crack.

The second plank bounces off the first one. I brace my feet, grabbing hold of the final board. The convenience store was just down the road. Straight there, straight back. I don't even know if there's anything there to find. Especially after the first panic wave. When the vampires first came out, the world had been in chaos. It was amazing how fast they could kill. The biggest massacre in history took place in a matter of days. By the time anyone figured out what it was that was attacking us, a third of the world's population was gone. That had been the last thing we were able to report before the undead army cut us off.

Crack.

I brush my hands off. My dad had warned me. He made sure to remind me of our number one rule before kissing my head and promising me that he'd come back. A promise neither of us thought he would break.

Rule number one: Whatever you do, don't open the door.

I'd been so naive, so ignorant when I chased after them not thirty minutes later because I'd been afraid. I never heard any screams. I didn't know my family never made it, nor did I know a vampire had been lurking in my neighborhood.

Shaking my head, I cast my memories aside, refusing to relive that day. That is the last thing I want to do right now when I'm about to leave the sanctuary of my home. Let's not jinx me, okay?

I open the door and wince, my hand flying up to shield my eyes from the sunlight.

Oh god, the sun.

I take a step, peering back and forth before looking up. I haven't seen anything more lovely in my three years of self-isolation. My eyes burn as I take it all in. The sky is a vast canvas of cerulean; the clouds, plump and looking softer than my own pillow, are floating just below the heavens. I don't know what I'd been expecting. Maybe piles of dead bodies, a red sky, a world transformed by hellions and nightmarish beasts. I take another step, then another, and before I know it, I'm on the street. Unlike my house, the rest of the houses down the street are somewhat destroyed. Many of them seem to be missing doors, some windows, and others have entire walls demolished. Someone managed to graffiti an abandoned truck. It said, 'Welcome to The End,' with the b-word tacked on to the corner in what could be sharpie. The message was painted in a happy shade of yellow with splashes of red over it. But, upon closer inspection, I realize the darkened red is anything but paint. I don't need to see a body to know that the old blood probably belonged to the same person who'd been vandalizing the truck. My stride turns brisk as I hurry to get far away from that spot.

It's hard to believe that it was only three years ago that my brother and I used to play on this street, carefree and happy with our lives. We rode