Just A Taste | BOOK 1 The Night Lords Series

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'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.