Don't Kill Dinner (The Rules Trilogy) (8 page)

A year had past and I stayed true to my word. It was hard at first and there were nights where his embrace was the only thing that kept me from losing it. I still felt guilty every day for putting him through the pain I caused but I was finally good, finally back to normal. We lived life to the fullest and constantly trained. Arthur had taken to the idea that we could find a training method that would yield the same results as the essences I used to take.

We had studied meditation, yoga and started a brand new serious workout regimen that had both of us in the best shape of our lives. With the meditation and increased workouts even Arthur was able to finally feel the pulse of life that had driven me to my blood crazed state a year ago. We had found a way to tap the power without becoming the monsters the media portrayed us to be.

The annual summit was coming up where the heads of coven’s around the world come together to discuss business important to the species. The four vampires representing our coven would be Ihrin, Aurel, Arthur and me. It was an honor to be invited and it felt good to be an integral part of the coven.

One of the main topics of the summit would be the Siren invasion. We weren’t the only coven who had to ward them off their land. It seemed that the Sirens were becoming tired of their island homes and wanted to come mainland. The New Orleans coven would use this summit to teach the others the new form of training Arthur and I developed and how it worked to ready younger vampires for the Siren’s song as well as the physical and mental adaptations it created. I was proud to present this to the covens with Arthur. This would show that fledglings are not to be underestimated. It would do good for the entire vampire race.

The third day of the summit was our day to present. We outlined the training methods both physical and mental and talked about the methodology behind each. After the lecture on what was quickly becoming the Harrison Method it was time to show the covens what I could do. We explained my age of one and a half years and told them about the last year of my training. Each of the top Viclean Razboinics of the covens challenged me in hand-to-hand combat. Even with three against one I came out on top. We discussed the ability to feel essences and I was tested again there. After a day of show and tell, the covens interested in the method stayed for a workshop.

With Arthur teachin
g the mental aspects and me the physical demands of the regimen we were able to accomplish teaching over seventy five percent of the covens how to better equip their mezin and their vechime to combat the Sirens should they try to rise again.

The success of the summit caused
a wonderful feeling of pride and acceptance. I was able to come from the pits of hell to redeem myself and show the rest of the covens how to become the best warriors possible. When we returned home everyone was excited to know about our new training and so we began the training of the new age of vampires.

Vampires young and old were coming to our training sessions. We had acquired the warehouse next to the coven’s HQ and were leading classes in there. The metamorphosis of the coven was amazing. We were stronger, more aware and more powerful as a whole than ever before. Now another species would have to be just plain stupid to attempt to overthrow us. Vampires as young as six months were now giving seasoned veterans a run for their money.

Seeing the changes gave me purpose
, but as we all know I had a tendency to overdo it. I hadn’t spent much time with Becca in the last few months and I hoped she was doing well. I still talked to Brittany about once a week and Tim was constantly flying out to see her. He really did care about her and I was glad to know they were taking it slow.

The time had come for the summer festivities of New Orleans. The Running of the Bulls was upon us and then the white party. It was my favorite time of year. Everyone was friendly and ready for a good time. Nothing could go wrong. I had been through hell and back and survived to tell the tale.

Arthur and I couldn’t wait to watch the running of the bulls. It was a yearly tradition where the Nola Derby Girls would dress up like bulls and beat the runners of the 5K with plastic baseball bats. It was all in good fun and always entertaining. The city would close down for the run and the drinks started flowing when the sun came up. It was one of the days when nothing could go wrong because everything was going so right. Not this year, this year it would be the day when I lost everything.

When the phone rang that night I had no clue I would be getting that phone call. I picked it up still happy and laughing from the Running of the Bulls to get the phone call no one ever wanted. My best friend was dead. I never knew she used me as her next of kin and if I did, I wouldn’t have let her. This was a call for her mother to get not me. After dropping the phone and collapsing into tears for a second time since becoming a vampire, I finally collected myself enough to head to the morgue. Thank God Arthur was there to get the specifics. I had never had to deal with the death of a close friend so I guess you could just consider me lucky.

The entire drive to the medical examiners office was a blur. I was physically there but my mind was gone. We finally arrived
and when I had to ID the body, which caused a whole new round of tremors and uncontrollable crying. She had been badly beaten when she got to her car after work. They cracked her skull with some kind of blunt object and her brain started bleeding.

As I looked down at my best friend and confidant on the cold metal table, I couldn’t help but see all the damage that monster had done to her. She had two black eyes and the blood was still caked to her silky red hair where he had delivered his final blow. You could tell she tried to fight back. There was blood and dirt under her nails and scrapes all over her hands. I knew she wouldn’t go down without a fight I just wish someone had been there to help. I let my vampire get the better of me as I investigated the rest of her wounds. She had been kicked in the ribs, and I could tell through her blue tinted skin which ones were broken. Thankfully her possessions had been their only interest. There was no lingering scent of something worse happening to her. I vowed then and there that she would get justice for what had happened to her.

They were doing an investigation and the police asked me all kinds of questions. No one had anything against Becca, she was the sweetest, kindest person alive. She would do anything to help anyone. I knew this was random and someone was going to pay.

In the months after the murder, it seemed like the police were never going to catch the killer. They had found her car at a chop shop a few days later with nothing but a basic description of the guy who brought it in. Finally, an eye-witness came forward. They had seen the entire thing and were threatened to keep quite. In exchange for protection they testified.

At the trial
, the eye-witness went through every detail. They had been walking by when the attack started. Becca had her keys in the door when the man came up from behind her and pulled her hair. She started fighting back immediately. When he realized she wouldn’t go down without a fight he shoved her to the ground and started kicking her with a big smile on his face. As he reached for her car, Becca tried to stop him again. This time he used the black wooden baseball bat. She tried warding off his swings with her arms but he had been too powerful for her small frame. Eventually her arms gave way and he landed the killing blow right above her ear.

When I talk about America’s flawed justice system thi
s is what I mean. After a three-week long trial, friends and family put on the stand and one of the best prosecutor slash vampires money could buy, he walked away with a warning. I was dead inside. My best friend was murdered and her killer still roamed the streets knowing he had gotten away with her murder. It had been some sort of gang initiation and now he was getting red laces for the death of my first friend in New Orleans.

My catatonic state eventually subsided and I was able to feed. Arthur stayed by my side day and night knowing that I was liable to snap. He is the one who kept me from attacking that SOB right outside of the courthouse and he was also the only one able to glue the broken pieces of my heart back together.

When they say that some pictures are burned into your mind for all eternity they are right. I still couldn’t get the picture of my poor friend beaten to death out of my mind or the look of her killers face when he walked away with a slap on the wrist. If it didn’t keep me up at night, it woke me up screaming. I was a wreck. I wouldn’t even hunt with Arthur anymore. Nothing could bring me back from the dark place I had made my home.

Arthur finally got me to leave my cave of grief one night when he offered to take me to our courtyard. I knew I was in dire need of some happy so I got out of my PJ’s and into my real clothes. The night was fun. We talked about the last year and all the positive things that had happened for us and for the coven. We talked about our future and about all the places we were going to travel. First on the list was Bora Bora. After hours of talking and a couple small smiles we headed back home, hand in hand, with the hope that things would get better. That’s when I heard it, a girls scream.

I ran toward the noise tapping into a power I hadn’t touched in months. I could feel her racing pulse getting stronger as I weaved my way through the alleys with Arthur hot on my tail. I slammed to a halt when we finally came onto the scene that would forever change my life. It was him. The guy who killed my best friend had a wooden baseball bat in his hands and the fire of hate in his eyes. I snapped, fangs out fully and months of hurt and anger exuding from my pores. I ripped his throat open before he knew what happened. He didn’t suffer, unfortunately. I was too angry to play with my food. I lapped at the wide open wound where his throat once was and drank him dry reveling in his essence fueling my body again. I came back to the moment at hand and let his limp excuse of a body crash to the ground like dirty laundry. The fear was back in Arthur’s eyes. He saw me for the animal I was and this time I was not going to stop. If I hadn’t stopped before Becca would still be alive. As my fangs retracted Arthur looked at me and asked, “Do you feel sorry for what you just did?” “No,” I replied. “He deserved it, they all do.” I left the house that evening. I knew Arthur couldn’t stand to look at me. It broke my heart to lose him but I would rather lose my soul mate than lose all of humanity. I loved humans too much to let filth and scum ruin them.

There was nothing stopping me anymore. I had to kill them all. I would always keep my vampirism a secret but they all had to die.

I started with the murders gang. They were easy enough to find, just listen for a girl screaming and you would find them. They were the worst of the worst killing and beating with no mercy all for street cred. One glorious evening I found four of them t
ogether. With no time for dilly-dallying I tied up the three lower ranking members while I put the sergeant, as they liked to refer to him, front and center. With retribution surging through my veins I decided to teach them a lesson. If they wanted to beat and murder innocent people I would make them suffer the same fate.

I started with my fists like they always started on their victims, letting them know who was in power. After sarg was crying and bleeding I moved on to the baseball bat. I broke both of his knees and let him lay there writhing in pain as I moved to the next gang member. I took my time, making sure that each of them suffered long and equally. It took two hours
before all four of them were on the ground begging for mercy with broken bones and broken egos. That was where the fun started.

I propped them all up against the dumpster that would soon become their grave as I explained what a monster really was. A monster was someone who lurked in the dark and stole your life. A monster was someone of nightmares. These four boys were not monsters, they were street scum not even worthy of the bottom of my boot. I finally showed them who the monster was. I drained one after the other in front of the remaining living until their bodies went limp before unceremoniously tossing them into the dumpster they were leaned against. I always made sure to cover my tracks but the kills were all mine.

It took a total of six hours for me to kill those four hoodlums. By the time I finished the sun was peaking over the horizon and I decided it was time to go home and sleep. My new home was back out in Metarie, near where I lived before Arthur. I had found a small flat that was no longer occupied and made it my home. It still hurt to think about him but it was better that he was not associated with me anymore. The coven didn’t need to know that he knew what I had done. I loved him too much to bring him down with me. In the end they would look back and see why I did this, because no one is not good enough to be saved.