Beauty and the Vampire

By Zoey Hunter

Honor student and cheerleader, Bel Winter, works hard to be a normal teenager. But deep down, she knows she is far from normal. The glowing rose-shaped mark on her shoulder is her first clue. 

As her 17th birthday draws close, Bel's friends fear she is losing her grip on reality. Yet, Bel believes. The visions she sees are real. The men in black capes who come out of the shadows are real. And they are coming for her...

On the night of Bel's birthday, at the stroke of midnight, her world goes black. When she wakes, she is thrust into a new and frightening world—the underground Onyx City. It is a place rife with magic and creatures of the night. It is also a place of dark beauty, dangerous intrigue and ruled by a beast—the ruthless vampire prince, Ezra Blade.

When Bel makes a desperate attempt to escape her captors, she trespasses through the royal gardens, and is caught by the prince himself. Now, her fate is in his hands. Though she fears the mercurial Ezra, Bel knows he alone has the power to release her from the Onyx City... 

 

Can Bel tame the beast and convince him to set her free?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dark Ink Media
• Release date: Oct 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223892403

Book preview

1

ASHES TO ASHES

BEL

The fans are edgy, on the verge of volatile. I can always feel the energy in the stands. And tonight is the first game of the season. North Side Wolverines are playing our mortal enemy, the Valley Vikings, at home.

By half time, we’re down, zero to 22, and North Side is rabid for a touchdown. Blood on the field, blood in the bleachers, win or lose. Wolverines are vicious. Cops are circling. An ambulance is parked on the hill behind the scoreboard, waiting.

In the locker room, the air is thick with adrenaline, rushing straight into my veins. My hands are shaking so bad I can’t even put on make-up. The head cheerleader, Ashley, standing next to me at the mirror, shoots me a look. Girl, you’re a wreck.

I know. Not enough sleep last night. But that’s not it. My moods swing on the energy in the air, and there’s a storm roiling in the stands.

Hey, what’s this? Ashley’s eyes and her fingertips move over my shoulder.

My skin quivers under her touch. I step back. No one has ever noticed my birthmark. Probably because the only sleeveless item of clothing I own is my uniform. Baring the blemish, faint as it is, to the world, has always felt weird to me.

I frown and glance down. Maybe it’s the fluorescent lighting, or maybe I have a darker tan, but the rose is prominent, almost glowing. I swallow.

It’s a birthmark, I say.

Ashley cocks her head. It doesn’t look like a birthmark. It looks… Her eyes narrow. More like a scar.

I’m suddenly defensive. My mom says I was born with it.

She shrugs and turns back to the mirror, focusing on her lipstick, using a tiny brush produced from her cavernous bag. I know it’s a designer bag, the latest fashion, but the important details, like which designer, I couldn’t tell you. All my clothes and accessories are from the thrift store.

I splash cold water on my face and run my fingers through my hair, before gathering the long strands back up into a ponytail. I’ve gone white as a ghost. My mom would say I look like hell warmed over.

Ashley is watching me in the mirror. I face her, and she holds out her hand, palm up, showing me a tiny pink pill. Go on. Take it, she says.

I hesitate.

You need it, she insists. How do you think I survive? It will calm your nerves and give you a boost at the same time. Trust me.

Famous last words.

But it’s enticing, the idea that a pill could straighten me out. My mom has taken me to all kinds of doctors. In the end, no pill has ever worked, which proved to my mom what she’s claimed all along. It’s in your head, Belinda. Snap out of it. I can’t afford any more shrinks.

I’m tempted to put the pink dot on my tongue and hope for the best. After all, Ashley is a North Side superstar and she’s sharing one of her secrets with me. But I’ve learned the hard way. What works for other people doesn’t work for me.

No thanks, I say.

Suit yourself.

We run out onto the field. Images sear my vision and blur into dark edges, like film burning. The world spins too fast and I spin with it.

I’m off kilter, confused. There’s a pounding in my ears. Ashley’s ready to send me for a time out, I can tell. But then, Adam Donovan, our Q.B., and my best friend, makes three touchdowns in a row. The fans go wild. They’re ecstatic. I ride the high.

Now I’m in sync with the other girls. I’m a puppet and the gods are pulling my strings. My timing has never been more perfect.

"Scoreboard! Scoreboaaaard!"

The crowd is roaring. "You can’t stop him. You can’t stop him!" They stamp their feet, the bleachers thunder.

Let’s go, let’s fight… let’s win tonight.

We form a pyramid. Being the smallest, I climb on top, and open my arms to shake my orange pom-poms.

Back on the ground, I whirl and kick and clap and yell.

The score is 36-22, Wolverines.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Hate to beat you… but we must!"

The clock counts down. The band starts up with the victory march.

And that’s when I see them. They float down the bleachers, like dark angels. Five of them; their long black capes billow, their hooded eyes glow yellow. They’re not from this world.

And they’re coming for me…

Belinda? Can you hear me? Get back you guys. Give her some air…

My eyes flutter open. Ashley’s face bobs above me, and then Adam’s. He drops his helmet and squats next to me. Come on, Bel. Sit up. Or they’re going to take you away in the ambulance.

He guides me into a sitting position just as two medics rush up with a stretcher. Ashley leans down and thrusts a water bottle at me.

Step aside, one of the medics says. Let us do our job.

She’s okay, Adam tells them. "Seriously. She’s a fainter. She’ll have a heart attack if you put her on that stretcher."

I gulp water.

The medics recognize Adam and hesitate. He’s a hero in our town. Good game, man. They seem to be relenting.

Adam stands up.

It’s true, I say. I pass out… sometimes. When I don’t eat enough. But I’m fine. Really.

To prove it, I grab Adam’s outstretched hand and let him pull me to my feet. My temples throb but I’m careful not to wince. See? I smile.

The medics guide me to a bleacher and make me sit. The one with the beard takes my vitals.

Adam gives me a reassuring wink.

Her heart rate is too fast, the medic says.

I drag my eyes away from the sight of Adam’s shaggy sun streaked hair and football war paint.

My pulse is racing. And for the millionth time, I wish I could dial back the clock to the old days before I started crushing on my best friend.

After shining a pin light in my eyes, the medics leave. A siren wails across the field. A fight must have broken out somewhere.

As the stands and field empty, I’m shattered by a sudden feeling of loss. The strong emotions of the game have evaporated and I’m left to put myself back together.

I think about what I saw just before I passed out. I’ve had these visions for as long as I can remember, along with a recurring dream of a spiraling staircase. It’s like the stairway to heaven only I’m going the other way.

The visions and the dream feel real to me, like premonitions.

I’ve tried to tell myself it’s my mind playing tricks on me, the diagnosis of every doctor I’ve seen. But I can’t escape the idea that I’m seeing my future somehow. And it scares the crap out of me.

Chin up, Bel, Adam says. Watch out for her, hey, Ash?

I dart a look at him. He’s using the same affectionate tone with Ashley as he does with me.

Watching him lope toward the locker rooms, a feeling of longing washes over me. It’s sharp and painful. I realize it’s not just my own longing. It’s Ashley’s too.

We walk across the empty field and she’s quiet. I’m worried she thinks I’m a liability now.

Despite Adam calling me a ‘fainter’, it doesn’t happen that often. It’s just that he’s known me since kindergarten and there have been a few episodes over the years. But I’ve never passed out during a game before, or in public, except during the third grade Christmas pageant.

In the locker room, Ashley is still hovering. You don’t have to wait for me, I say. Go on. I’ll be fine. I promise.

Her relief is palpable. She heads out, still wearing her uniform, carrying a huge duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

An eerie quiet hangs in the air after she leaves.

Normally, Adam would give me a ride, either to the after-game party or home. Tonight, I have a strong need for quiet. The energy surges have made my whole body ache.

I send Adam a text: Going home. See you later?

He has to make an appearance at the party. But he’s not really into partying. The times I’ve tagged along with him, he’s ready to leave when I am. There’s a chance he’ll stop by, if he knows I’ll be home.

I change into my street clothes; jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers.

Waiting for Adam’s text back stresses me out. My back and shoulders are tight.

I’m not sure what I’m wishing for but it’s my birthday tomorrow. Maybe I’m hoping Adam feels the same as I do, and will make a romantic gesture on my birthday. Maybe I’m even hoping he’ll make the gesture tonight. While I’m still sweet sixteen… and never been kissed.

It’s true. I’m undateable. Adam is my only hope. Of course, he’s the only guy I’ve ever wanted.

I’m dressed, hair brushed, shoes tied, with no text from Adam, which is unusual. But I don’t mind walking.

I take the back way home, along the jogging path beside the river.

The sound of water rushing by and the breeze through my hair soothes me.

When I cross the foot bridge, the street lamps flicker. Apprehension pricks the back of my neck.

And then, from behind, footsteps rush up. Fear races in my veins. I whirl around.

No one.

But I can’t stop the panic. I quicken my pace, walking faster and faster, arms swinging, until I’m running.

In a final lunge, I burst out onto the sidewalk of Main Street.

The store fronts and street lamps glow bright. As if to mock me, a car moves leisurely down the street. Laughing people enter the pub. Nothing to fear here.

Standing under the awning of the closed post office, I gulp for air. Sweat slides between my shoulder blades.

I laugh a little, remembering when I was a kid. I used to make a run for the bed and leap into it so the monster underneath couldn’t grab me. The funny thing was the monster was only there in the dark.

My mom and I live in a duplex four blocks over. I cross the street, walking slowly.

When I turn onto our street, I’m disappointed to see our side of the house is dark.

I dig out my key from my backpack. Inside, I flip on the light and go into the kitchen.

The air is stale, like no one’s been here all day. My mom works from home so I find that strange.

She’s a graphic designer but the jobs are sporadic and we struggle to make ends meet.

My mom and I split the bills down the middle, like roommates. I don’t mind. I like my barista job. It feels good to pay my own way.

Suddenly, I’m famished. But the only edibles in the fridge are a jar of green olives (for my mom’s martinis), a moldy orange, a half-eaten sandwich, a six pack of cream soda.

I eat a few olives. In the cupboard, I find a box of crackers and grab a handful.

Once I flop down on the sofa, I just sit. I’m too tired to