The Slayer Chronicles: First Kill (16 page)

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Authors: Heather Brewer

BOOK: The Slayer Chronicles: First Kill
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Then he turned his head and saw a familiar face peering out from behind the funeral home across the street. Dark, brooding. The face of a killer. It was the vampire who’d attacked Kat just two weeks before.
Well, not attacked, exactly. But it had chased after her. It had scared the daylights out of her and had made him shake from the inside out. What was that thing doing still lurking around? It clearly knew that Sirus was a Slayer. Why stay in a town where people were out for your blood and hunting you? Why not move your so-called hive to a safer location? Joss didn’t know, couldn’t even fathom something resembling a sensible reason for putting your life in danger like that. But he was determined to find out.
Plus ... he had been training lately, and his skills were developing nicely—even Sirus had said so. And what better way of impressing Uncle Abraham than taking down a vampire on his own, just days into his training?
Joss walked over to the truck and set the brownies inside on the dashboard before turning back to where he’d seen the monster lurking. As he approached, he kept a close eye on his surroundings, carefully making sure that he wasn’t being followed. After all, he was fairly certain he could handle one vampire. But any more than that and he’d be toast.
He moved around the corner of the funeral home as silently as possible, but it turned out there was no need for sneakiness. The vampire was sitting on a stump, as if awaiting his arrival. It smiled at Joss as it rubbed sunscreen on its skin. “It’s warm today, my Slayer friend. I’ve had to reapply sunscreen twice already and it’s not yet noon. It would be no wonder to me if the sun chases me inside by early afternoon.”
Joss stood very still, saying nothing. He hadn’t expected the thing to attempt a conversation with him. Let alone a casual, friendly conversation about the weather. The creature finished rubbing sunscreen on its skin before capping the bottle and slipping it in its inside jacket pocket. Then it smiled at him again. He could see no sign of fangs, but knew that they were there somewhere, lurking within its monstrous mouth. It looked so human, so ... normal. But Joss knew that it was anything but.
He could feel the corner of his mouth twitch as he parted his lips to speak. Even as he did so, he wasn’t exactly certain what he was going to say. He only knew that he had to say something, so it would know why he was here. “So we meet again.”
Great, Joss. If that wasn’t the most stereotypical response to a mortal enemy, he didn’t know what was. But it was out there now, hanging in the air between them. To his greatest disgust, the monster visibly suppressed a smile.
Of course it was amused by his antics. It had probably faced Slayers like Abraham and Sirus. What threat could a boy spewing cheesy movie lines possibly provide?
The vampire met his eyes and again Joss was stunned by how distinctly human it appeared. If he hadn’t already witnessed this monster’s fangs once before, he might be doubting his actions now. The very thought was unnerving. It removed its jacket and placed it casually on an old stump to its right. Before Joss’s training, he might have dismissed such an act as nothing notable at all, but now he knew better. It was preparation for a fight. The fabric might inhibit its movement slightly, and it didn’t want to get its jacket dirty with Joss’s blood. Joss casually glanced around the yard, noting areas of escape: back around the side of the building, into the woods, or through the open window. Few options and none of them smart choices. But there were weapons available: a small hatchet was stuck in a nearby log, sharp branches lay strewn about the edge of the yard, and a hose was attached to the back of the building. Maybe he could wash away the sunblock and let the sun take care of his work for him. The point was, there were options. And Joss was seeing those options—something he took great pride in.
When his eyes found the vampire again, it was perching on the stump, its hands folded in its lap. Perhaps it was excited about the idea of feeding from him and trying to keep its hands from trembling. Joss didn’t know. All he did know was that judging by the sounds and sights and smells around them, they were alone.
It smiled warmly, like they were old friends. “I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t ask your name, boy. So? What do they call you up there in that house in the hills?”
It knew where he was staying, where they were staying. Joss swallowed hard at the realization. After the briefest of pauses—one to consider whether or not answering the creature could possibly compromise himself as a Slayer or the Society as a whole—he said, “Joss. And you are?”
He didn’t think admitting his name would compromise them. After all, it was just a name ... right? It wasn’t like he was revealing deep Society secrets.
The monster clucked its tongue, shaking its head. “Curious about a vampire, are you? Abraham would be disappointed, to say the least. He doesn’t believe we even have names. At least he’s never cared to learn mine. May I ask why you’re so intrigued?”
Joss shrugged. “I wouldn’t be following protocol if I didn’t find out everything I can about your kind. Plus I’d like to have a name to give when I report to my uncle this afternoon.”
It leaned forward, a bemused sparkle in its eyes. “And just what will you be reporting, Joss?”
Joss leaned forward, too, his jaw set. “That I found a vampire lurking around Phoenicia and killed it.”
Its eyes widened in surprise and bemused laughter boiled over from within it. Joss could feel insult and anger threatening to take him over, but instead he managed to stay calm and breathe deeply. “Are you going to give me your name, or should I just refer to you as ‘number one’?”
Its smile quickly faded, replaced by fury at Joss’s insinuation. “Look,
boy
, I am over six hundred years old. Six hundred and twenty-three to be precise. You should be mindful of who you threaten.”
“What.”
When the monster blinked at Joss, he said, “I should be mindful of
what
I threaten. After all, you’re not a person. You’re just a thing. An animal. A monster.”
The creature paused for a moment before nodding slowly, as if agreeing that they were at an impasse. “Zy. My name is Zy.”
Joss nodded, bracing himself for what he knew was coming. “It’s time to perish, Zy.”
The creature nodded once more, a dark shadow passing over its eyes—one that Joss regarded instantly as a fusion of hunger and pure, unadulterated hatred. “If you insist, Joss.”
It moved so fast that Joss had no time to react. All of his plans, his forethought came crashing down around him as the monster gripped him by the throat and slammed him down on the ground. The back of Joss’s head met with the earth harder than he could have imagined, and for a moment his vision was blotted out in varying sizes of black polka dots. Then the thing leaned in close, close enough for Joss to smell the metallic hint of blood on its tongue—it had fed recently. “If you’re wondering why I’ve allowed you to live this long, it is because I have a message for your uncle. A message that I cannot deliver to him personally without risking my life or his. And so I am tasked with giving this message to the weakest in that Slayer crew. You, my dear boy. Joss, as it were—I’m not so prejudiced that I refuse to acknowledge your name. You, Joss, will deliver this message to Abraham. And I will let you live ... for now. Are we clear?”
Joss tried to wriggle free, but he couldn’t move as much as an inch. The beast had him pinned. It gave his throat a threatening squeeze and his vision wavered. It was a warning. Don’t move. Don’t even blink.
Out of sheer terror that this might be his last moment on Earth, Joss obliged.
His heart beat in his ears so loudly that he feared the monster’s words would be drowned out by the sound of it, and he wouldn’t know what message he was supposed to deliver to his uncle. But the vampire waited—it looked as if it was listening—until Joss’s heartbeat settled some before it began to speak again. “Tell your uncle that we are well aware of their activities here, and they have reached the edge of our patience. We are giving them—you—exactly one month to pack up camp and leave. If you do not comply, we will skin you all alive, starting with you, my dear boy. Tell him this and mean it. If they do not adhere to our wishes, I shall find you and rip the skin from your bones myself. Do you understand?”
A fleeting, empowering thought entered Joss’s mind then: the Slayers must have been getting close to the hive. Too close for comfort, and that’s why the threat was coming now.
It released its grip on Joss’s throat, and he sucked in a lungful of air before nodding. He wasn’t sure that he could have spoken at that moment. His throat burned painfully, so it might not have been possible. Not to mention the fact that he was also terrified that if he did speak, it would come out in a high-pitched shriek rather than the calm, strong tone that a Slayer should use. Saying anything would completely crush any amount of false confidence that he had left, so he stayed silent.
“If you’re smart, you’ll stay here until I’ve gone. Count to ten. Then return to the truck. Tell no one but Abraham the message that I have bestowed upon you. If you’re not smart ...” It peered down on him, tilting its head to the right, as if it were examining his features and committing them to memory. Then it clucked its tongue. “Well . . . let’s hope you’re smart, Joss.”
As quickly as it had taken Joss down, the thing disappeared again. The thought briefly crossed Joss’s mind that he should follow it, track it, but he pushed that thought way down deep inside of him, in a box marked “stupid, dangerous ideas” and closed his eyes, counting to ten and thanking the stars that he was still alive.
17
 
SECRETS TO SHARE
 
The trip back to the cabin was long, and silent on Joss’s part. He could sense that Kat knew something was off about him, and every time she’d look out the window, Sirus would cast him a glance that was full of questions.
Is everything all right? Are you okay? Did something happen while we were apart that I should know about?
He didn’t have to ask the questions aloud. Joss could read each and every one on Sirus’s face, and in his eyes. And to each one, Joss gave him a look that he hoped would answer him in the most broad and general manner possible.
Everything is fine. I’m fine. There’s nothing to talk about.
Each silent reply was a blatant lie, but a necessary one. He felt terrible for lying—albeit silently—to Sirus. Especially since Sirus had been nothing but a good friend to him since the moment he’d arrived. He told himself that he’d explain everything to Sirus later, after he’d passed on the vampire’s message to Abraham. But even that only managed to comfort him a little bit. So he looked out the window and watched the trees as they wound their way up the mountains to the grand house that they all referred to as a cabin. As his eyes fell on the house, he marveled at the lies they told each other every day. It was a cabin—not a grand spectacle of a house. They were just friends and family, gathered for a summer of hunting and cookouts. They were just regular people, like those in town. The only danger lurking in the woods was a mountain lion. Lies. All lies. And each one had been so easy to tell.
The thought made him feel somewhat queasy.
The truck came to a stop and Kat slid out the passenger-side door. She loaded three bags of groceries into her arms and headed for the house without another word, but Joss could tell she felt cut off from something, from him. He instantly hated that he had to make her feel that way, but there was little he could do about it. Not without exposing the entire Slayer Society, that is. And even though he hadn’t been a part of their group for long, Joss felt a growing sense of loyalty to them. He belonged to them, believed in their cause. They were good and just and right. And more than that, they were his path to laying Cecile’s tortured soul to rest, which was worth the cost of any friendship.
He got out of the cab of the truck, noting the distinct absence of his uncle’s car, and closed the passenger-side door. Sirus was waiting for him near the open tailgate. “What’s happened, Joss? You seem troubled. Shaken, even. So badly that even Kat has noticed. What is it?”
Joss reached for a bag, but Sirus placed a firm hand on his forearm. “Joss ... tell me. Please. I’m concerned.”
He shook his head. “Not yet, Sirus. I need to speak to my uncle first. Then I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
After a moment, Sirus nodded and released his grip, though something in his eyes told Joss that he was reluctant to do so. They each grabbed several bags and carried them to the kitchen. As they entered the house, Sirus called out to a few of the Slayers and soon, the truck bed was completely empty, the groceries tucked neatly away. Once they were finished, Kat disappeared out the door and Joss took a seat on the front porch, hoping that his uncle would return from wherever it was that he’d gone off to. The burden of the vampire’s message weighed heavily on him, so heavily that it consumed his thoughts, filling his head with dark, murky clouds. He ached to be free of it.
Joss lost himself for a while in the pages of the Slayer Society manual. He absorbed rule after rule, and absorbed the message of loyalty and justice. There was an insistence on protocol—of following the correct channels to report any interaction between himself and vampirekind. There was also a list of punishments for those who dared to defy that protocol. Ugly, awful things. Joss didn’t envy the man who went against the Society, but he knew the rules were important to the cause. After all, rules were in place for a reason. Without them, the world would fall into chaos.

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