House of Royals(8)

There is a body next to mine. It’s a man. Writhing and shifting and twitching in unnatural ways. Gurgled, strangled sounds work their way out of his blood-soaked mouth. There’s something protruding from his back.

But most terrifying are his glowing yellow eyes and the black veins covering his face.

“Where’d you come from?”

My eyes shift up just a bit to see a man kneel next to the body. He’s young, probably only a few years older than me. In the dark, I can’t see any of his features, though. But in his hand is a genuine wooden stake. “Who’s your sire?” he demands.

My attacker gives a wet-sounding gasp. He reaches up a hand, like he’s about to wrap it around the other man’s neck. But his hand shakes and then collapses back onto his chest. His body grows still.

Even though it’s dark, I can see the way the color instantly bleeds out of him and his skin turns an ash gray.

“Damnit,” the man breathes.

My eyes flutter closed. It takes me a long time to open them again.

When I do, the man is hovering just in my vision.

“Stupid tourists,” he says. But his voice sounds hazy, like my ears are full of cotton. “Never know better than to go wandering around after dark in this forsaken town.”

“I’m not…” I try to explain, but all the energy in me is gone.

“I’m real sorry about this, but there’s not a chance you won’t turn,” he says. I’m fairly sure I feel his arms slide under me and I’m being lifted. “So you’re going to have to stick with me until it’s over. Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick and painless.”

“Wh…” my breath leaves my chest. “What?”

“It doesn’t usually help to explain,” he says. Then there is something hard under my back. It looks like he’s putting me in the back of a van of some sort. He leaves and returns a minute later. He lays the other body next to me.

Blackness takes over my vision and my brain fades in and out. But we are moving. Driving. My body screams in pain at every bump we roll over, every jostle that sends me shaking across the hard plastic floor.

Sometime later, maybe ten minutes, maybe an hour—I’m not with it enough to tell, the doors to the van are opened again and I am flooded with unfamiliar scents. Of rotting wood. Stagnant water. Decay and wild earth.

A flashlight blinds my vision and the man is above me.

“Eyes still look normal,” he says, flashing the light in and out of my vision. “Pupils still dilating. Why’s this taking so long?”

“Please,” I say, feeling hot and itchy. “Help me.”

“Sorry, darling,” he says. I realize then that his accent isn’t as overwhelming as many from here. “No one can help you now.”

He grabs the dead man next to me, a wooden stake still sticking out of his back. He slings him over his shoulder.

Using everything I have in me, I roll half onto one side and prop myself up on my elbow.

A swamp. That’s where we are. I can only faintly make out the standing water in the moonlight, the trees rising up out of it. The moss that holds onto everything.

A slight hissing sound makes my skin crawl.

“Got a nice meal for you tonight, Bernie,” the man says. He walks right up to the water’s edge and a second later I hear a great splash and a hissing snap. “A nice double-double.”

The hissing and snapping grows in intensity, accompanied by a sickening tearing sound.

Flesh.

Snap. Bone.

“Hey now, share, Carl,” the man says, and I can almost imagine the sarcastic smile that had to accompany it. “There’s plenty for everyone.”

Second by second, I feel like my strength is returning and my limbs regain their usefulness. Very slowly, I push myself up onto my forearms, nearly sitting up.

Footsteps crunch over the earth, returning to the van.

“Hey, hey!” he yells, jogging over to me. “Slow it down there. I knew it wouldn’t take much longer.”

Again, I am blinded by his flashlight. He holds my chin to keep me still as I try to turn my face away.

“What the hell?” he breathes. Over and over, he flashes the light in and out of my eyes.

“Stop,” I say, pushing his flashlight away. “My head is already pounding. That is not helping.”

“You’re getting your strength back,” he says, once again flashing the light in my eyes. “You lost way too much blood, though. There’s no way you shouldn’t be changing. But your eyes, they’re still dilating.”

“What are you talking about?” I hiss angrily, once again shoving the light away from my face. “And what the hell just happened?”