Chapter 4
The air was calm as Liz ran her well-worn path through the forest toward the bayou. It was also heavy with moisture, but what was new? She'd lived with the humidity her whole life, so it didn't bother her. Besides, there were other things on her mind today, so the only thing to do was run. If she didn't, then all she'd be doing was fantasizing about Sam all day. Damn, he was a good kisser. Good as in mind-blowing.
When she saw a man standing on the path ahead, it didn't register at first. When it did, her heart tumbled in her chest and she skidded to a stop. He had this awful look of satisfaction on his face. Satisfaction that he'd caught her? Suddenly, she understood that he'd been waiting for someone to come along the path. Someone like her.
She eyed the man, wondering if she could outrun him. He looked rough around the edges, unshaved, clothing torn and dirty, mud caked into the knees of his jeans. He looked like a cross between a homeless man and an axe murderer. She was in trouble. Big trouble.
It was like one of those stories on the news. True stories. Bad things hardly happened in Ashburton - it was that kind of small tight knit community…but that didn't mean anything. Bad things could happen anywhere. She had to run and find some help.
Spinning on her heel, she intended to bolt back the way she'd come, but when her eyes focused on another two men slipping out onto the path between the trees, she gasped, her heart wrenching painfully in her chest.
Making a break for the tree line directly to her left, she was grabbed from behind and pushed into the ground, face first. Pain burst through her cheek as the air was pushed out of her lungs.
“Where are they?” the first man said, his voice raspy like he'd had one too many stiff drinks.
“Who?” she gasped, trying to struggle as he grabbed her hair, pulling her face toward his. He stunk like he'd rolled in something dead and she gagged.
“The vampers. Where are they?”
“What? I don't know-” She was yanked to her feet, her hair tearing painfully against her scalp.
“Lying, bitch.” The man shoved her into a set of arms that stunk just as bad. “Give her a taste of what we do to lying little human bitches.”
Liz was helpless as the third man's hand connected with her temple, her head snapping to the side. Stars began to burst in her vision and the warm trickle of blood began to run down her skin.
“Let me go,” she shrieked, beginning to thrash against her attackers. Her arms were held behind her back, but she kicked her heel backward, connecting with flesh. Suddenly, her arms were free and she slipped between the men and started running. She'd got the big one right in between the legs.
Fear overtook her then, and she hardly knew which direction she was fleeing in. Sounds of pursuit were coming from behind, but she couldn't focus on anything but her heaving breaths and thumping heartbeat. Help. She needed help.
Another man she hadn't seen, stepped into her path and she slammed hard into his chest, falling flat on her back. Staring up at the treetops, she couldn't make her limbs work. No. No, this couldn't happen to her.
“Help!” she screamed, thrashing as hands started grabbing at her.
“No one is coming, little bitch.” She stared up into the inhuman, beady eyes of her attackers and screamed.
It was no secret Sam liked to walk to clear his mind. Zac had his alcohol, and he had more constructive ways of dealing with his issues. Perhaps that job Liz was talking about at the gardens would help, too.
The forest had been oddly silent that morning. Usually there would be all kinds of sounds echoing through the trees. Birds playing in the Spanish Moss that hung from cypress branches, the trickle of water from the river that fed into the lake, wind through the leaves overhead. But as he walked, everything was heavy and still. It kind of made his skin prickle.
That's when he caught the sent of werewolves on the air. Yet another complication to deal with. They'd known there was a pack that lived deep in the bayou, but they were too far away to be an issue. If they were straying closer to Ashburton, then they'd caught onto the scent of vampires. Damn it. He'd have to have words with Zac when he got home.
A scream split the air and his head snapped back toward the direction of the bayou. A female scream. It was faint, far in the distance, but he ran anyway. Suddenly, the forest was alive with noise - not the soft, calm sounds he was used to, but the tell tale signs of violence. If someone was in trouble, it was his duty to help, especially if the werewolves he'd smelt traces of earlier were harassing some poor girl.
Sam ran and ran, but by the time he neared, whatever had happened to the woman was long over. Skidding to a stop, the scent of blood and wolves slammed into him and he almost doubled over it was that strong. Holding his breath, he stepped out onto the forest path and saw a woman lying on her back covered in blood, her blue eyes glassy and vacant. He recognized her instantly and his heart leapt into his throat.
Liz.
God. Her blood was everywhere.
Her eyes seemed to fix on him and she coughed, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Shit. She was still alive. He ran forward and pulled her up into a sitting position. She cried out in pain and it was then he realized they were in big trouble. There was a reason she was covered in so much blood. The wolves had ripped her stomach open, a steady stream of red was flowing, staining her top and the earth below them.
“Liz, hold on, okay? It's okay…” But even as he said it, he knew it was too late. She'd lost a lot of blood and her heart was already slowing...too slow to give her his blood. He was too late. A tear slid down his cheek. The things he felt for this human girl were unexplainable.
Cradling her close, he held her as her eyes drooped and the life slowly bled from her. If they hadn't of come back then the werewolves wouldn't have come. Fuck. Fuck. What was he going to do?
He pressed his lips to her forehead, careful not to get the taste of blood in his mouth. He didn't want the last thing she saw to be the black eyes of a monster looking down on her.
When her heart slowed and finally stilled, he crushed her limp body against his and felt his heart break. It was all his fault. This beautiful, vibrant woman with her whole life ahead of her. He should've left her alone. He should've been strong enough to stay away.
Her eyes snapped open and she gasped for air, hands clawing at his skin.
“Liz?” he cried, grasping her face with a steady hand, his heart beating as erratically as hers. Willing her to focus and look at him, he pulled her toward him. She was alive? But her heart had been still, silent…that could only mean…
“No,” he whispered, horrified. “Not you. No…”
“Sam?” Liz croaked.
Blood, there was too much blood. He checked the cuts on her face and arms, but they were already staring to fade. Tugging at her shirt, he saw the laceration in her stomach was knitting itself back together.
Someone had changed her…someone…
“Sam?” she asked again, blood bubbling in her mouth, making her cough.
“You've had a nasty accident,” he murmured, trying to hold his vampire side at bay. The last thing she needed was to see him change into something other than human.
She just stared up at him, her blue eyes that were usually so full of life, glassy.
“You're going to be okay,” he said, pressing his lips to her forehead. “I'm going to take care of you, okay?”
“What-” she tried to ask something, but it seemed like too much effort. No wonder - her body was working overtime to heal her wounds.
“Shhh. Don't talk. I love you, okay? I'm going to take care of you.”
She nodded so slightly, he almost missed it. Scooping her up in his arms, he frowned as her eyes fluttered and closed as she passed out cold.
He felt the tears streaming down his face as he ran through the forest with her in his arms, running faster than he ever had in his entire life. He had to get her back to the manor. She would be safe there. Zac would know what to do…wouldn't he
?
When he kicked open the front door, breaking the lock, he didn't understand how he'd gotten there. Striding down the hall, he didn't even register Zac, who was staring at him with a horrified expression. What the hell must he look like? A bloodstained angel in the arms of a devil.
“What the fuck, Sam?” Zac exclaimed, covering his nose and mouth with a hand.
“I found her in the forest,” he said, hardly able to control himself.
“What did you do?” His brother moved forward to take Liz from his arms, but he carried her up the stairs, ignoring Zac's accusation. “Sam? What did you do?”
Placing her gently on top of his bed, he ran is eyes over her bloodstained clothes. This wouldn't do.
“Sam,” Zac said, trying to hold in his anger. “Did you give her your blood?”
“No!” He shoved his brother away. “I found her dying in the forest. I felt her heart stop, Zac. She was dead before I got there.”
“She looks alive to me.”
“I didn't do this to her. I would never-”
Zac placed hand on his shoulder, but he couldn't tear his eyes from Liz. “I know you wouldn't. But I had to ask. You know I had to.”
Sam nodded, his jaw tense. The stench of blood was still everywhere, and the stench of werewolves.
Zac took a deep breath and his gaze snapped to Liz, who was still out cold. “Sam?”
“Werewolves… Their scent was everywhere. Her stomach was ripped to shreds.”
“Fucking dogs,” Zac hissed.
“They must have picked up my scent on her…”
Zac grasped his shoulders. “This isn't your fault, Sam. Not by a long shot. We need to get her out of those clothes. If she wakes up with all that blood on her-”
“I'll do it,” he replied. “It'll be okay.”
Zac seemed to sense that he wasn't needed and he grimaced. “If you say so.” He turned to leave, but stopped in the doorway. ”Sam?”
He turned and met his brother's gaze for the first time since he'd walked into the manor.
“How did she get vampire blood in her system?”
“I don't know.” He shook his head, totally numb. “I don't know.”
Liz felt her eyes begin to open, but it was a struggle. She felt heavy, like every limb was weighed down with lead. She was laying in a bed. A big, soft, bed…Sam's bed?
The room was dark, only a sliver of light streamed through a slight crack in the curtains. Her vision focused even more, splitting her head in two. Everything was sharp…too sharp.
Reaching out toward the light, her fingers trailed through the stream and she pulled back with a hiss. Did the sun just burn her? She'd seen this on television before. People that were hypersensitive to light, touch, smell… What was happening to her?
“Liz?”
Turning her head, she saw Sam perched on the bed beside her. He looked worried. What the hell was that smell?
“It's okay,” he murmured. “You had a nasty accident. It's going to be okay.” He reached out and pressed a cool hand to her forehead, but it felt like his touch was burning through her skin.
“No!” she cried, pushing him away.
Sam fell backward, but it was half way across the room. She stared at him, wondering how she could push a man twice her size with enough force to send him reeling.
“Liz,” he said, sitting up into a crouch. “I don't know how to explain it to you, but you need to calm down-”
“Calm down?” she exclaimed, scrambling up against the headboard, her knees pulled into her chest.
“Yes. I'll explain everything-”
She slapped her hands over her ears, screwing her eyes shut. “Why do you have to yell at me?”
“You're different, Liz. You're changing.”
“Changing? How did I get here, Sam? I was in the forest, then-” She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening. She couldn't remember how she got here. She couldn't remember anything after she got to the six-mile mark in the forest near the bayou.
“I found you in the forest. You'd been attacked.”
“Attacked?” She looked down at her bare legs, then turned her hands over and over. She was so cold…
“You don't remember?”
“Remember what?”
“Waking up in the forest?”
“I woke up here,” she said, trying to sift through her memories. Running, then…nothing.
“You died,” he choked out. “I held you in my arms. You were dead.”
“Dead?” Her heart constricted in on itself. But she was here...
“Then you woke up… Liz, I'm so sorry.”
“You're sorry? If I died…am I dead?”
“No.” He shook his head. “You're changing, Liz.”
She started to panic. “Changing into what?”
“That's what I've been trying to tell you,” he murmured, holding a hand out like he was trying to calm a wild animal. ”I'm a vampire, Liz. Zac and I, we're vampires.”
“What?” She looked at him like he was stark, raving mad. “Is this fucking Twilight?”
He ignored her comment. “And you're changing into one, too.”
“You're lying. Why are you lying to me?” she cried, getting more and more agitated. “Let me go!”
She went to stumble out of the bed, but Sam stuck his thumb into his mouth. When he held it out to her, a bead of red blood began to swell against his pale skin. A sickly sweet smell filled every part of her and she had to taste it. Lunging for him, he grasped her shoulders, holding her back. He grunted at the effort of holding her sudden fury at bay and pushed her onto the bed. He sucked his thumb into his mouth and suddenly the smell was gone.
She slapped a hand over her mouth, embarrassed and dumbfounded at her reaction to…blood. She wanted it, she needed it. “No! Did you do this to me?” she gasped. He found her in the forest...
“No!” he cried. “I would never, ever, change anyone. Neither would Zac. We never had a choice, Liz, so why would we force that onto someone else?”
Taking deep breaths, she hugged the blankets to her chest. The sun burnt her skin, she wanted blood… Sam had to be at least a hundred and sixty years old. Who could live that long? ”When you said your parents were dead, it was because of the time.”
“No. It's not.”
She just stared at him, not sure how to grasp onto anything that meant something.
“The vampire that turned Zac killed them, then turned me to get to him.” She hissed through her teeth and reached out for him. Somehow she could understand he was telling the truth. “He won't admit it, but Zac blames himself for me being this. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't anyone's but the woman who chose to do this to us.”
“Do you think…is she…”
“No. Zac killed her the night of the massacre.”
“The massacre was real? It was vampires?”
“A single vampire, Liz. This isn't a game. None of what we do is. If you choose to complete the change that is what you might become.” His head dropped into his hands. “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry this happened to you.”
Creeping forward across the mattress, she threaded her arms around his strong back, laying her head against his shoulder. “I believe you when you say you didn't do this to me. But what's done is done.”
“How can you be so calm about this?”
Sighing, she tightened her embrace. “I have to be, don't I? I can hurt and lash out all I want, but it won't change the fact that I can't go back. I died. Isn't that some kind of miracle?”
“A miracle?” Sam scoffed. “A miracle would be a cure. A miracle would be turning you human again. A miracle would be having a choice.”
Sam never got a choice, she got that, but she did. It was just a heavier kind of decision. Life as a vampire, or death. Maybe she was meant to die in the forest, maybe that was all the time she was meant to have. Or maybe she could live forever as something else. Right now, she couldn't fathom any of those options. All she knew was that she didn't want
to die, but she wasn't sure she wanted to live on as a vampire either.
Her, a vampire? The notion seemed so far fetched, she snorted at the irony.
“You're wrong, Sam,” she said, straightening up. “I do have a choice.”
“Liz-”
“How long do I have?”
“Please-”
“Sam.” She squeezed her eyes closed and asked again. “How much time do I have?”
“Two days, maybe less.” His voice came out at barely a whisper, but she heard it as clear as day. She was already different.
“Then I have to make a choice.”
He cupped her face in his cool hands and she suddenly understood all the things that hadn't quite added up about him. He'd been born before the Civil War. He'd seen a lot of things that should be impossible.
“You can't force me,” she whispered, taking in his green eyes. Eyes that seemed a hundred times more luminescent than before.
“I would never force you to do something you didn't want. Especially not this.”
A tiny hint of a smile tugged at her lips. “I know.”
To her surprise, he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her tenderly, a thumb stroking back and forth across her cheek.
“Can I get you anything?” he whispered when he pulled away.
“Can you call Gabby?” The emotions that we welling up inside her were almost unbearable. Love, despair, anger, longing. As much as she needed Sam, she needed her friend.
He nodded and rose from the bed, leaving Liz to figure out her fate on her own. She hoped Gabby would be able to help because she didn't know what she was going to do.
When Gabby walked into Sam's room an hour later, Liz was beginning to fret. She was feeling sicker by the minute. Was that how she was going to die if she didn't change? Waste away until she closed her eye and didn't open them again?
Her friend almost ran across the room and threw herself on the bed, pulling her into a tight hug. “Fuck, Liz.”
“Fucked is a more appropriate word,” she said wryly.
“How are you feeling?” Gabby asked with a kind smile.