“My turn!” She allows them to release her arms and jerks the nearest dancing male towards her. Vampires are fast, but none as fast as Anya. She leaps on him and falls to the ground with him as the others dive away from her. When her captive runs dry and explodes to dust beneath her, Anya growls in frustration, exposing her bloody fangs in a snarl. Her eyes snap to the two males who bit her wrist, both are now writhing in pain on the floor. Like acid, her blood is burning them from the inside out. Anya does not hear the screams around her, nor does she realize the chaos of humans and vampires attempting to get away. Slowly, she stands intending to go after a new prey, but a new scent catches her interest.
Two powerful creatures approach her from opposite directions. Anya cocks her head sideways to look at them. One is a vampire and the other she can’t identify. The vampire does not worry her, but this one has a scent that torments her. “A new flavor?” She taunts, but he simply grins. His ebony skin and green eyes inform her that she is up against something new.
“I am, Drow, witch, and your stare will not work on me. What manner of creature are you?” He asks releasing his whip to the floor and her body reacts with instant blood lust. The powerful vampire moves around behind Anya and she knows it’s time to go.
“Drow? You smell different than the others; more… flavorful.” He cracks his whip at her and the same second the vampire leaps at her. Anya can see the ripple of his power just before he attacks, warning her of his intent. She leaps straight up and backflips over the vamp, coming up behind him. The whips strike the vampire and he hisses in rage.
“Such power,” the Drow gasps.
Anya doesn’t waste a fraction of a second, the vampire’s scent is too hard to withstand. She is on his back with her fangs buried in his jugular before he can react. Like the others, he screams when the burning begins. The release of her venom paralyzes her victim, leaving her free to deal with the powerful immortal. Her eyes never leave the green stare of the Drow. He rushes toward her and she grins as she drinks.
Vorn’s arms grow heavy and so do his legs. Golden light surrounds him and soon he feels as if he is moving throw thick water or mud. This time, Anya is ready for the moment of extinction. When the large vampire drops, she lands lightly on her feet and moves to meet the Drow.
A shout behind her causes her to frown in annoyance, “I will save your kind for another time.” She runs out of the club and to freedom. Anya doesn’t slow down until she is outside the hospital. When she looks down at her hands and realizes for the first time what she must look like, she is horrified.
Anya switches from hunter to horror, in the blink of an eye. Blood spatter saturates her clothing and skin. Temptation has her trembling with the urge to return for more. “What is happening to me,” she screams. She needs answers that only her father can give to her.
Shame mixes with the fear in her heart and she wonders what manner of monster she has become. When she steps into his room and closes the door behind her, Keane sighs with relief.
“Anya. Thank God. I’ve been so worried.” Keane looks at her and his hands begin to tremble. His scent envelops her, and she smells his old spice after shave. He appears, to her newly born eyes, fragile.
“Da, have I become a vampire? What is happening to me?” Her skin glows from her fresh feeding and her eyes shimmer back to normal.
Keane stares at the daughter he helped bring into this world and he is terrified for her. “I’ve spent years hoping and praying that his day would never come. I hid you as long as I could, Anya,” she sits on the edge of his bed and looks at him.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“No, Anya you’re not a monster, but you were never merely human. You will find a sweatshirt of mine in my bag. You should put that on over your shirt before someone comes in and thinks you’ve been hurt.”
Anya jumps up eager to get the bloody shirt off her body. She takes it into his hospital bathroom and looks at herself in the mirror. Her skin is glowing, and she feels… powerful. Her amber eyes are ringed in black and her shirt is covered in the blood of an immortal. As she draws it off over her head, the metallic scent of the blood calls to her and her teeth lengthen. She watches in the mirror and her eyes begin to glow.
“No! Not now.” Tossing the offensive shirt into the trashcan, she ties the bag up, to hide the evidence. Quickly, she washes in a hot shower, scrubbing the evidence from her body. The water runs a dark red as it circles and enters the drain.
After she rejoins her father, he pours a glass of water and speaks low. “Your mother asked me to protect you until your gifts were released. It looks to me like that has begun.” Keane glances out of the window. “Christian went to recover the book.”
“Why is the book so important?” She asks.
“It is called the Book of the Herald. It is one of the illuminated texts in our world. It holds many secrets, and all the answers you will need. It speaks of the Herald and much more, most of which I
