After Ever (25 page)

“Not good,” Sam repeats. His fingers close around my wrist like a vice. “Not good at all. Win, what did you
do
?”

“Do?” I cry. “I didn’t do anything! You said no one would be able to see us!”

We’ve reached the walkway. It curves to the right, around the back of the resort where we came from. Sam’s pace quickens. I hesitate.  

“Winnie,” my dad says brokenly from behind us. “Winnie, is that you?”

“Don’t turn around,” Sam warns me. “Just ignore him and—”

“And what, Sam? He’ll go away?” I plant my feet and pull my hand free. “No. You know I can’t do that.”

“Win,
please
,” Sam pleads desperately. “We can’t break the rules. Especially not the first one. You have no idea what will happen.”

I smile. It’s a soft, wayward smile. An affectionate smile for my sweater vest Sam. Reaching out, I gently touch his cheek. His shoulders slump in defeat.

“You’re not going to listen to me, are you?” he says.

Silently I shake my head.

“You’re making a huge mistake. Don’t do this, Win. After everything we’ve been through don’t—”

“Shhh.” I bring my finger to my lips before I wrap both arms around him and draw him close. “It’s okay,” I whisper against his neck. He trembles against me. “It will be okay, Sam.” Rearing back, I squeeze his shoulders one last time before I let him go. “Trust me,” I say with a confidence I do not feel.

I have no idea what will happen when I turn and acknowledge my father, or what the consequences of that one action will be. But I do know what will happen if I don’t. Bracing myself for the unknown, I slowly turn around. Sam stays by my side and I draw quiet strength from his presence.

“Winnie?” My dad whispers my name as a myriad of emotions flash across his face. Despair. Sadness. Loss. Hope.

Hope
. The one thing that has never abandoned me. I had hope that I would find Brian. Hope that I would save Sam. Hope that I would have the strength to defeat Craven. And a silent hope, a secret hope, that my dad would see me again. That he would
really
see me, and look at me like he is right now, as if I exist for the first time.

“Hi Dad.” I clear my throat and shuffle from foot to foot as I search for the right thing to say. What exactly
do
you say to someone who shouldn’t be able to see you? I can think of only one thing. “I’m dead.”   

READ ON FOR AN EXCERPT FROM JILLIAN EATON’S NEW RELEASE
PITCH
, A YOUNG-ADULT PARANORMAL NOVELLA, NOW AVAILABLE ON AMAZON FOR $0.99!

PROLOGUE

The End of Everything

I can smell the blood. It tastes metallic on my tongue and I close my mouth tight, clamping my teeth together until my jaw aches. Still the scent of it invades my nostrils, sweet and ripe as an apple left out to rot in the sun. My stomach cramps, a knee jerk reaction to what the smell of blood has come to signify: death. 

A Drinker has been in the hotel. I can see the claw marks running down across the woodwork of the main desk. What little furniture remained in the lobby has been completely wrecked, as if the Drinker went into some kind of mindless rage, destroying everything in sight.

He was wrong. Not all of the Drinkers left. At least one remained. One who knew where we were hiding. One who waited until I went away to finally strike.

With my heart in my throat I sprint across the lobby and fly up the stairs, screaming their names with every step.

The green and cold carpet muffles my footsteps as I race down the hall, bypassing door after door until I get to the one I want. I throw it open with such force I nearly fall forward onto the mattress, but I catch myself just in time.

The smell of blood is stronger here. There is no mistaking it. No point in convincing myself I am imagining things.

The shades are still drawn tight. My pounding heart counts off the seconds as I search the pitch black room. I know every nook, every cranny of this small space and I go through it ruthlessly. My fingers glance off the wooden dresser that houses my meager collection of clothing. I don’t bother opening the drawers. What I am seeking is not here. But it is somewhere. The blood does not lie.

Cursing, crying, pleading for their lives I stumble down the hall and search room after room after room, yelling until my voice is hoarse.     

 The further I go into the hotel the darker is gets, until I am running blind, using the walls to support me. When I see the light blossoming from the edges of a door at the end of the last hallway my knees nearly buckle with relief. I have found them and they are hiding away, just like they should have been. Safe and sound. A breathless laugh forces its way past my lips. I have worried myself to death for nothing. Except the scent of blood is stronger than ever, and I cannot shake the terrible feeling of dread that is threatening to choke me. 

I push open the door and instantly cover my eyes, blinded by the light after running so long in the dark. For a few seconds all I see are two blurry shapes. One sprawled lifeless on the ground and another hunched over it.

My vision refocuses like a camera lens. Sharpening slowly around the edges before spiraling in towards the middle until everything is clear. Clear as crystal. And I see who is on the ground. And I see who is standing over him. And I see what I have chosen to overlook for too long.

“Is he dead?” My words come out flat. Emotionless. It is a rhetorical question. I know he is dead. No one can lose that much blood and survive. It seeps across the tile floor, reaching all the way to the door, and I am forced to step in it as I walk across the room.

The survivor turns to face me and my breath whooshes out to stain the air with shock and betrayal. I had not thought… I had never imagined… But the blood does not lie and his face is covered with it.  

“You,” I whisper in agony. “How could it be you?”

 His mouth opens and closes. Quick, so quick, but I see the flash of tell tale silver before he can conceal it. He reaches out his hand to me. A silent plea. Blood drips from his fingertips.

 “This is not what it looks like,” he says quickly. “Lola, you don’t understand. Let me explain.”

“Isn’t what it looks like?” I repeat dully. “You’re one of
Them
. You’re a… a… Drinker. You’re a monster.” My voice thickens with tears. “And you killed him.”

He says nothing. His eyes dart to my left hand.

The gun. It has become such a part of me I almost forgot I had it. I raise it now and point the muzzle true. His face pales. He takes a step back, then stops. Goes still. “Do it then. Just do it, Lola. If you think I could have done this I am dead already.”

“No.” I look at the body on the floor. “He’s the one who is dead.”

I aim the gun dead center of his chest. Aim it right at his black, lying heart.

“Lola, I love –”

I pull the trigger.

Sixteen-year-old Lola is a daredevil. She likes playing hooky, making out with bad boy Everett James, and stealing cars. The reason behind all of her rebellious antics?
Because she can
. But what can one girl do against a horde of murderous vampires?

Aided by her sometimes sober father, her best friend Travis, and Maximus, the mysterious stranger who appeared out of no where to save her life, Lola must accomplish what the rest of the human race has failed to do in the aftermath of the world wide massacre: survive.

But how do you survive when everything you know has been destroyed… and the one person you thought you could trust ends up being the most dangerous person of all?

FIND OUT IN
PITCH
, AVAILABLE NOW ON AMAZON!