Reign of Blood (The Vampires of Vegas Book 1)

Chapter Nineteen

Who knows how long I had lain in bed, pondering everything that had happened in just the past few days. I hated being in this uncertain place in my life, it felt out of control and I didn't like it. My mind raced, wondering how I could regain my hold on the situation. It kept me up for hours, restless.

I didn't hear anyone else come into the sleeping quarters at all the rest of the night and it made me wonder if the vampires even required sleep. Maybe they had realized how different I was and what a hazard it could be to have a human amongst them. If my blood paralyzed Rye so, how would the others react?

Seraphin hadn't tried to drink my blood. I was relieved for that. She could have easily ripped my throat out if she had so desired. I cringed at the thought as I subconsciously reached up to touch the gauze on my neck. I wondered what they were discussing in their debriefing of Seraphin. I desperately wanted to know and the wait made me feel like I could jump out of my skin from my fraying nerves. I hated waiting, it was worse than getting a tooth pulled.

I sighed, sitting back up as my anxiety made my sleeping impossible. I wondered if I should get up and search for the others. The place was big and I didn't want to run into any more unknowns. These hybrids were fast, I was going to have to step up my game if I was to fight any of them and live. I sighed again, got up and stretched. I hadn't worked out lately and I could feel the slack in my muscles growing. I missed the limberness that exercise gave me. It was like meditation in motion.

I had on the loose clothes that they had provided me with; mine were once again blood-stained and dirty, hopefully getting washed by whoever did the laundry around here. I tried not to think about it as my fingers gripped my ankles, enjoying the slow burn in my muscles as they stretched and relaxed. I continued this for a few minutes before I stood up. Luckily, I healed quickly and my arms and hands were now feeling much better. Even the slice on my neck had stopped throbbing.

I grabbed my machete and gave it several swings and jabs, moving my legs along like a dance that I once knew. It felt fluid, like an old friend's embrace, partnering with me. Spinning, I let my bare feet grip the floor and swipe at an imaginary foe.

I paused to grab the second machete and began my routine exercises to condition my arms with the work of both blades, letting the air rush past with each movement. It refreshed me as I felt the intensity of it bring the sweat out on my skin. My training routine was calming in a most relaxing way. It let me get lost in my own thoughts as the metal flashed and my body became one with the dance. I'd had some formal training before the outbreak. My entire life I had been more physical than other girls, taking dance classes, karate and other martial arts training, almost anything I could get into. It was exhilarating and had hooked me right off the bat. That, along with a year spent watching my fill of videos on weapons training on the TV and DVD player during the endless hours in the bunker, had done wonders for my strength, agility and abilities. I was an excellent fighter; killing was what I was built for, a vampire hunter in every sense.

Like music in my mind, I let it take the movements of my body with it. I usually had music playing at these times but the silence provided its own. My kicks and jumps reminded my muscles what they should be doing. Practicing flips while holding two swords was difficult at first but once you got the hang of it, it was just a matter of keeping your center of gravity. It could either feel like the world has jolted you about or like you are flying. I preferred the latter and let my body take control of the movements without a problem. The adrenaline filled me up like an empty flask and I drank it in eagerly.

A movement in the room jolted me back into the present as I brought my blades up to the trespasser who had interrupted my solace. I held one of my weapons to their throat, ready to slice through it if I so wanted to.