Descended by Blood (25 page)

I shrieked. I knew that landing head first from a three-story fall would surely slow down my escape, so I arched my back and neck, hoping the weight of my head would cause the pull of gravity to spin me around. I flung my feet forward and started to fall parallel to the ground. I used the drag, flipping in the air and landed on my feet. My knee jammed upon impact, and I let myself roll with the momentum. I hadn’t rolled early enough and pain shot up my thigh.

I lay on the cold, dead grass, cursing Mirko for not teaching me how to fall and roll properly in our training. That was definitely a skill I could have used right now.

Boots drumming across the concrete echoed toward me from the side of the house. I pushed myself up and rose to my feet. I tuned into my vibrations to use my chameleon power, but I realized I only had enough strength to use it or run. Not both. I wobbled forward on my hurt knee, clenching my teeth in pain.

I peered over my shoulder to find men barreling toward me faster than I ran away. I sucked in a ragged breath and fled, forgetting the pain in my leg and focusing on my escape. I might not be able to kill Dikan or Jelena at this point, but at least she wouldn’t be able to use me to enslave mankind.

I drove onward, tapping my stored energy and calling forth my Pijawikan side. It roared within me and reveled in its release. I shot forward with speed that I had seen others use, but doubted I possessed.

I swiveled my head back and found that the men were still fast approaching. One of them lunged into the air and tackled me to the ground. I struck my hand out as we rolled in the dirt, swiping my claw along his stomach. He spun off of me and three more men landed on me. My arms wrenched out from their sockets as they pulled me to my feet. I lashed out with my legs, snapping bone with my heels wherever they connected.

More men grabbed me, sweeping me off my legs, and I swung from their arms, vertical to the ground as they carried me back toward the house by my wrists and ankles. “Let. Me. Go,” I growled, arching my back and pulling at my arms and legs, but found no give in their hold.

One of the men punched me in the gut. I folded up as much as I could, which wasn’t much with the way my captors held me. I coughed, trying to catch my breath. “Give it up, little girl. Your half-blood is no match for us,” he said, revolt emphasizing each word.

My attempts had been futile. All it brought me were bruises and an almost losing battle with tears. I sagged in defeat as they carried me back into the house and up the stairs.

Dikan stood on the landing of the third floor, a symbol of my failure at all things today, and his smirk rubbed it in. “In here,” he said, creaking open a door to another room. The men threw me in, and I landed hard on my hip. I gasped in pain and tears burned my eyes. I kept my face just above the floor so they couldn’t see the tears spilling over.

The door slammed behind me, and I wished I had jumped out of the window, landed on my head, and broken my neck, ending this nightmare once and for all.

30

Resistance Ends Now

I lay huddled on the frigid floor because this room didn’t have a bed. Nor did it have a window. The room also seemed to be barren of a vent for any heat to flow through. The temperatures had fallen sharply in Utah, and all I had to cover my arms was the light jacket Kaitlynn lent me to cover my spandex top Mirko had purchased for me.

Hours passed, and I hadn’t so much as moved across the room. When Jelena swung the door open, in what I assumed would have been the next morning, my arms had gone passed the tingly stage onto the dead-weight stage.

“Put this on,” she said, throwing a gown of amethyst silk toward me.

I sat up and scowled at her.

“You do it, or I get Dikan in here to dress you.” She looked serious, so I picked up the dress and tried to figure out how to put it on. Sharp needles stabbed at my fingertips as proper circulation returned.

“Dikan will be in here in five minutes. You may want to be dressed by then.” She pulled the door shut with a bang.

“Yes, evil stepmother,” I said, gathering the silk. This would be it; she would dress me in a Cinderella gown and march me toward those who would bring the Zao Duhs and humans back into slavery.

The way to avoid it evaded me, but I knew I couldn’t be the coward I had been when I sat by in English class while Carley ridiculed Miss Andersen about her chalk marks, nor could I be the deserter that I had been when Lijepa lost her life. My time to step forward had come.

I looked at the high-end gown that would be my battle uniform and sighed.

I slid the jacket off my shoulders and then pulled the spandex shirt over my head. I picked up the silk dress and searched the sea of material for the top of the zipper.

Bunching the silk, I tucked my head through the hole, then released the fabric and let it flow around me. The glitter woven into the material was evidence that I had been given a dress more expensive than I’d ever worn before. This surely would be a special occasion for somebody.

I reached my arm back to snatch a hold of the zipper in order to close the back of the dress, but dropped my hand in pain. My shoulder ached, reminding me of my weaknesses, that I would never possess the strength needed to escape Jelena’s tyranny.

The thought that Dikan would be coming soon, and he would most likely touch me to get the zipper closed, spurred me forward. I reached behind my back again, sucking cool air in between my teeth, and clasped the zipper, guiding it closed.

A moment later, the door opened to Dikan standing on the other side. “Kako si lijepa,” he said, eyes alight with desire.

I pursed my lips. He’d called me beautiful. Lijepa told me her name translated to
beautiful
. “Jelena’s waiting,” I said, giving him an evil smile. If he tried to touch me, I’d do my best to rip his arm off.

* * *

We drove in an Escalade for almost thirty minutes toward what I guessed must have been Salt Lake City’s downtown; the buildings grew taller, and parking became sparse.

The driver pulled the Escalade into an underground parking tunnel nestled below a lavish marble hotel. This must be where we would meet the other Pijawikas—the start of my father’s demise.

My heart beat like a jackhammer in my chest, and my palms grew sweaty as I gathered my resolve to fight the vampires. When I couldn’t wait any longer, I tested my mental strength by roaming it over the minds in the vehicle. All of them, save for the driver’s, were secure. I wiggled inside his mind, and when I grew confident I had landed on the right pathway, I set it ablaze.

He screamed, turning the wheel sharply, and smashed into a concrete wall. I held onto his mind as Jelena grabbed me by my arm and dragged me out of the vehicle. She threw me to the ground, and I hit my head, teeth chattering. I lost the link to the driver’s mind, and the screaming stopped.

Men in fine, tailored suits sped toward us. Their speed gave them away as Pijawikas. “Is the catalyst still alive?” one of the men asked.

“Yes, Commissioner Abdul-Hakeen. She’s fine.” Jelena clipped. “Get up,” she said, kicking me in my shin.

“We need her intact. Everyone is seated and waiting for the reveal,” said an Asian man dressed similar to the commissioner. He must be in the commission, too. These men ruled their part of the world under my father, and they were her allies.

“She has been more than an annoyance ever since I found her. This resistance ends now. Get. Up,” Jelena growled.

I pushed up on my arms, tucking the pleats of my dress under me as I stood. My eyes bore into Jelena’s. They had everyone here, the witnesses who would find my father unworthy to serve them any longer. They would throw me down in front of them as evidence to be used in turning humans and Zao Duhs into slaves.

I couldn’t allow that.

People die for their country, and people die for their loved ones, but rarely is someone given the opportunity to die for mankind. I would fight Jelena, and I would try to kill her, but I felt confident that I would be the one to die.

Pijawikas surrounded me. I jerked my head to the right, immediately to my left, and then I slowly raised it up to match Jelena’s eyes. I stood, calm and elegant, staring at her.

I lunged for her throat, fangs extended to spill her blood.

She spun, avoiding me. Her men moved to contain me. “I’ll handle this,” Jelena ordered with a confident smirk on her stunning face, and her men backed away.

“You had better,” said Commissioner Abdul-Hakeem in a Middle Eastern accent. Everyone backed away.

I attacked Jelena again, but I dropped low, sliding my feet out to knock her off of hers. She jumped, eluding my sweep.

Before I could rise, she pounced on me, landing heavy blows to my jaw and eye sockets. Blood gushed into my eye and blurred half of my vision.

I flung my leg up and captured her by her shoulder, pulling her weight off of me enough that I could use the momentum to swing forward and up.

“Impressive,” she said and lunged at me again.

I bounded back, blood from the cut above my eye running down the side of my mouth and then inside as I inhaled. The copper tang tingled on my tongue and my rage demanded that I draw hers. When I considered her to be at the right angle, I thrust my fist out and landed it in the center of her throat.

She coughed, glaring at me, her nostrils flared. Her eyes held her promise to teach me a lesson. She charged and pushed me up against the concrete wall, trapping me between the crashed Escalade and her pounding fists.

My skull bounced against the cold, solid slab, and I tried to guess how many more punches it would take to end my life, but they kept coming without any reprieve.

“No more in the face!” one of the commissioners yelled.

Pain registered throughout my body as Jelena struck everywhere, save for the face. I couldn’t focus. All I could think about was pain and the sweet smell of leaking antifreeze mixing with the concrete dust from the crash.

It made me wonder if Lijepa could smell the burning flesh as Jelena fried her face. That sent a fire of my own through my veins. I used the tension of the wall and drew my legs up, shredding the material on the back of my dress. Once I connected the bottoms of my feet with Jelena’s gut, I pushed.

She flew back and across the parking lot.

I ran after her, jumping onto the bumper of a car and over the hood. I spun my arms around and over as I jumped off, twisting my legs together and barrel rolling toward Jelena. My dress flowed out around me as I spun.

Blood from my split brow dripped, discoloring the cement as I landed on the other side of Jelena. I grabbed her by her neck and squeezed, drawing blood as I formed my fingers into claws around her windpipe.

Arrogance swelled within me, and I peered into her eyes, assured this would end here and now.

Her lip lifted, and she grabbed my hair, torquing my head back in brutal agony.

I released her throat and clawed at her grip on my hair. I knew I should have been willing to die today, but I wasn’t ready for it. Fear paralyzed me as chunks of hair ripped from my scalp.

“That’s enough!” the Asian commissioner said.

Jelena ignored him. Her eyes were maniacal. She’d finally reached beyond the point of breaking me to now wanting me dead. She brought her free hand up in front of my face, showing me that her palm held a small ball of blue flames. It floated above her hand and shot toward me.

I closed my eyes, longing to be somewhere else and dreading the promised pain before death would free me.

When I opened my eyes, I stood on the other side of the parking lot. Jelena’s fire splashed onto the windshield of a car that, just a second earlier, had been behind me. The fire flickered and sizzled out.

Everyone in the parking garage stared at the car in stunned silence. I had moved from one place to another without physically moving. I hadn’t gone invisible and ran over here.

I had teleported.

31

This Is for Lijepa

Jelena broke the stillness in the garage by shooting another flame at me. I thought of the wall where we crashed, and then I stood on the other side of the Escalade.

I giggled. Who knew fighting to the death could be this fun?

“This ends now,” one of the commissioners yelled.

Jelena and I continued to fight.

She flung another flame at me, and I disappeared again. I landed on her back with my legs wrapped around her and my hands clasped on the sides of her head. I called forth all the anxiety I’d felt when Jaren hung from her lackey’s hand—gasping for air—and I summoned all the rage I’d buried when I found Lijepa burned and murdered on her kitchen floor, all of the horror I’d felt when Kaitlynn wet herself in fear, and every other emotion I’d avoided handling since the moment Jelena’s lackey arrived at Jaren’s house that horrific night.

Lijepa had been right; power comes to you when you accept yourself. “This is for Lijepa.”

I twisted Jelena’s skull, snapping her neck. A loud echo danced along the concrete walls. I dropped to the ground with her lifeless body as it fell into a limp mass on the cold stone floor. Fitting that my nightmare ended the way it began.

I stood up and looked around. Pijawikas gawked at me, some of them in horror and some of them in fury.

Colorful rays reflected off the commissioner’s znaks. Beams of emerald, sapphire, and topaz sparkled in front of me, but none of them resembled the znak my attacker wore at the airport.

Some of the Pijawikas stalked toward me. I’d understood that some would come after me in retribution for Jelena’s death, but I had thought I would have more time between then and now.

Guess not. I wiped the blood away from my eye and crouched low, readying for another battle.

“I’m Pijawikan, too, but I’ve got nothing to lose,” I said and raised my hands up defensively like Mirko showed me.

Tires screeched as a white Mercedes with blacked-out windows swung around the corner and sped toward us. Some of the Pijawikas scattered, but I remained.

Brakes squealed as the sedan stopped in front of me. The back doors opened, and I recognized the dark fuzzy hair that peeked over the top of the roof.