Heart of the Dead: Vampire Superheroes (Perpetual Creatures Book 1) Read Free Page A
Author: Gabriel Beyers
Tags: Suspense, Contemporary, Action & Adventure, Horror, Paranormal, vampire, Zombie, supernatural, dark fantasy, Urban, Ghost, Occult, action packed, Americian
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slithered down his head and body, washing away the soot and grime clinging to his skin. He reached out with his mind, searching for an answer to the inexplicable rain, and from another’s mind, he pulled the word sprinkler .
He swayed on his feet, a bit dizzied by the strange world about him. He could remember no past, but he knew he was not newly born, because some things were common place to him, like doors, fire and smoke. Then again, other things — the lights, guns and sprinklers — felt so foreign to him.
And what of his special gifts? His strength and speed, his ability to hear thoughts and make fire with his mind? They came as naturally to him as walking, yet he understood from the fear of those surrounding him that there was nothing natural about them. He was unique and with that came a burden of loneliness.
If he wasn’t human, then what was he?
Before he could search out the answer in the minds of his captors, the hunger pang returned tenfold.
There were others still within the building. He could hear them scurrying about like frightened mice, chattering to one another, seeking places to hide. But there was nowhere they could go that he could not find them. Their very heartbeats betrayed them.
He rushed past the burnt corpses, down another hallway and up two flights of stairs. He tracked the others, not just by the noise they made, but by the scent of their bodies and the beacons of their minds.
He found four of them huddled in a large stainless steel freezer. They backed into the farthest corner, stumbling over one another.
He didn’t like the fright in their eyes, nor the way they begged for mercy. He pitied them. There was evil within them, dark desires such as he could not understand; even so, he wanted to turn and leave them be.
But the hunger warring within was maddening, dulling all sense of justice, silencing all self-control. Breaking free of the black shell, his birth into this strange world, the regeneration of his wounds, and the mind-fire had stolen too much life from him. He needed to replenish life with life. He needed to feed.
Chapter Three
T he sidewalk twisted away from the main school building, snaked its way around the student parking lot, and nestled up against a thick wooded area. Cars were escaping the parking lot like life boats from a sinking ship. Groups stood here and there, waiting for the traffic to thin before heading out. Jerusa waved to them, they waved back, some called her name, but none invited her over to join the fun.
Alicia followed, but instead of walking, she moved along, appearing and disappearing on the tops of the cars. She pouted, refusing to look at Jerusa.
“I’m going to see him whether you like it or not.” It wasn’t a good idea to talk to her ghostly friend where others might overhear, but she figured she was far enough away to not arouse any suspicions. Alicia didn’t look up. “Foster will be leaving soon. I want to say goodbye to him.” She had once asked Alicia why she didn’t like Foster Reynolds, but she gave no answer. Perhaps it was some secret that only those beyond the grave know. Or maybe she, like Jerusa’s friends and mother, thought it was a bad idea for a young girl to be alone with an older man.
Jerusa understood their concerns — she was eighteen and he was in his mid-forties — and with any other man, she would agree that it was creepy. But Foster was different. There was never anything sexual about their relationship. He was the father-figure she had needed after her father ran out, and she was the daughter he yearned for after he had lost his own years ago to cancer. No one approved of their friendship — not even Alicia — but Jerusa didn’t ask for their approval.
Foster was witty and charming. Crazy in a silly way. Wise and learned, without even a trace of the usual haughty hubris. And besides all of that, he was the only one that knew the truth of her supernatural gift.
Jerusa hadn’t meant to tell Foster
He swayed on his feet, a bit dizzied by the strange world about him. He could remember no past, but he knew he was not newly born, because some things were common place to him, like doors, fire and smoke. Then again, other things — the lights, guns and sprinklers — felt so foreign to him.
And what of his special gifts? His strength and speed, his ability to hear thoughts and make fire with his mind? They came as naturally to him as walking, yet he understood from the fear of those surrounding him that there was nothing natural about them. He was unique and with that came a burden of loneliness.
If he wasn’t human, then what was he?
Before he could search out the answer in the minds of his captors, the hunger pang returned tenfold.
There were others still within the building. He could hear them scurrying about like frightened mice, chattering to one another, seeking places to hide. But there was nowhere they could go that he could not find them. Their very heartbeats betrayed them.
He rushed past the burnt corpses, down another hallway and up two flights of stairs. He tracked the others, not just by the noise they made, but by the scent of their bodies and the beacons of their minds.
He found four of them huddled in a large stainless steel freezer. They backed into the farthest corner, stumbling over one another.
He didn’t like the fright in their eyes, nor the way they begged for mercy. He pitied them. There was evil within them, dark desires such as he could not understand; even so, he wanted to turn and leave them be.
But the hunger warring within was maddening, dulling all sense of justice, silencing all self-control. Breaking free of the black shell, his birth into this strange world, the regeneration of his wounds, and the mind-fire had stolen too much life from him. He needed to replenish life with life. He needed to feed.
Chapter Three
T he sidewalk twisted away from the main school building, snaked its way around the student parking lot, and nestled up against a thick wooded area. Cars were escaping the parking lot like life boats from a sinking ship. Groups stood here and there, waiting for the traffic to thin before heading out. Jerusa waved to them, they waved back, some called her name, but none invited her over to join the fun.
Alicia followed, but instead of walking, she moved along, appearing and disappearing on the tops of the cars. She pouted, refusing to look at Jerusa.
“I’m going to see him whether you like it or not.” It wasn’t a good idea to talk to her ghostly friend where others might overhear, but she figured she was far enough away to not arouse any suspicions. Alicia didn’t look up. “Foster will be leaving soon. I want to say goodbye to him.” She had once asked Alicia why she didn’t like Foster Reynolds, but she gave no answer. Perhaps it was some secret that only those beyond the grave know. Or maybe she, like Jerusa’s friends and mother, thought it was a bad idea for a young girl to be alone with an older man.
Jerusa understood their concerns — she was eighteen and he was in his mid-forties — and with any other man, she would agree that it was creepy. But Foster was different. There was never anything sexual about their relationship. He was the father-figure she had needed after her father ran out, and she was the daughter he yearned for after he had lost his own years ago to cancer. No one approved of their friendship — not even Alicia — but Jerusa didn’t ask for their approval.
Foster was witty and charming. Crazy in a silly way. Wise and learned, without even a trace of the usual haughty hubris. And besides all of that, he was the only one that knew the truth of her supernatural gift.
Jerusa hadn’t meant to tell Foster