Page 25 of Blood Bond

But before Crevan can further plead his case, Donovan reaches into his jacket, swiftly drawing a small, unique weapon. It resembles a hybrid of a crossbow and a pistol, with a ball of light at its centre. A collective gasp echoes through the room, followed by a whimper at the sight of this weapon – a daylight gun, its bullet not just deadly, but horrifically so, carrying the essence of the sun's rays.

Without a second thought, Donovan aims and pulls the trigger. The bullet tears through the air with an ear-splitting crack, blazing a scorching path across the table, and striking Crevan squarely in the chest.

Crevan's face contorts in unimaginable agony, but Donovan is beyond empathy. Crevan had one task – to keep her away from Seth, and he failed. The encapsulated rays of daylight burst forth from within Crevan. Even he can't suppress his cry of pain as it echoes through the room. The crowd backs away, huddled together, watching the horrific scene unfold but offering no assistance.

Crevan's body convulses on the floor, the powerful figure now writhing in excruciating agony. Smoke rises from his skin as the lethal daylight effect takes hold, his dark hair fanning out as he claws desperately at his chest. It's a macabre dance under the dim lights, culminating in a final, silent thud as Crevan's struggle ends.

His lifeless body lies on the scarlet carpet, a gruesome halo of blood pooling around him. The crowd recoils in horror at the sight.

Amidst the chaos, Donovan stands unflinchingly, his face emotionless, cold, and distant. He gazes down at Crevan's lifeless form, an air of finality surrounding him. His icy eyes betray nothing but the deadly determination that manifested tonight.

"Let this serve as a lesson," Donovan announces, his voice resonating through the stunned silence. "This is the fate of those who dare cross me."

ChapterNineteen

We zip through the streets, the city's illumination casting an eerie glow that seems to keep the thirsty at bay. Despite the darkness, the artificial daylight creates an odd semblance of safety, a stark contrast to the lurking shadows where the thirsty hide, their hunger an almost tangible force.

I find myself drawing closer to Killian, gripping his waist tightly and pressing my face against his back. The sight of the thirsty, so visible yet untouchable, haunts me. My mind races back to the nurse and her last night, leading me to ponder the fates of others like her. Once ordinary people with lives and families, they now exist as mere shadows, consumed not just by vampirism but by something far darker, a pervading sense of despair in this transformed world.

The transformation of the world is so striking. Since my last venture into it, the change is so drastic it feels almost unrecognisable. Alone, I would be utterly lost in this new, divided landscape. Many blame the virus for this division, but in truth, it's the people—humans, vampires, and others—who have fractured it, letting it spiral into chaos and ruin.

I can't help but wonder about the future of this place. What will it look like in another decade? Will it still exist, or will it have succumbed completely to the darkness that seems to be encroaching ever closer?

The streets are bustling with activity – people, cars, bikes, even limousines. Seth navigates through the traffic with a sense of command, a clear sign of his authority in this world, and Killian follows suit with equal confidence. Tasha and Naneve trail behind us. A glance back at them sends a shiver down my spine, their stares piercing through the night, so I quickly refocus on the unsettling scenery around us.

The night unfolds like a dystopian tapestry, a world where the lines between human and supernatural blur into a harrowing new reality. And in this world, I find myself clinging to the one stable element I have – the presence of Seth and his protectors – as we cut through the night, heading towards an uncertain future.

As we journey across the border, the city's radiant lights gradually fade, giving way to the enveloping darkness. Shadows along the roadside shift eerily, reminiscent of liquid darkness. Despite the presence of more day light, casting their protective glow to repel the thirsty, the surroundings feel markedly different. Roads, like the one we ride, form a network connecting vampire cities and towns, an interconnected web linking places like Skin Trade to the rest of this transformed world.

This landscape is a far cry from my childhood memories. Buildings that once stood proud are now derelict, their skeletal frames jutting against the skyline, leaving rubble where thriving communities once were. I can't help but ponder the existence of others like Killian and Naneve, the Death Bringers, in other hiding places like the Hollows. Jackie, the leader of the Hollows, who was willing to kill me, I question our understanding of this world. Were we wrong in our assumptions?

As we continue, the landscape morphs again, sparking my curiosity. I sit straighter on the bike, holding tightly, eager to see more of this world. Despite being warned against it, I've always harboured a curiosity about the world beyond my confinement. The mantra of “stop hoping, stop thinking” never quelled my desire to see beyond the life of a bonded slave.

Ahead on the road, three figures catch my eye. I hesitate to call them people, knowing they are no longer human, but anything less feels like an injustice to their former lives. It's important to remember who they were before becoming these creatures. Their existence now seems so unfair; if it were me in their place, I'd yearn for someone to end my suffering.

One of them steps boldly onto the road, directly in the path of Seth's car. The headlights cast an eerie glow, making its eyes shine like beacons in the darkness. Startled by the light, it quickly retreats, but not before lashing out at us, hissing its displeasure.

Killian, alert and ready, swiftly reaches for the blade holstered at his hip. With practised ease, he unsheathes it, positioning himself for a swift and effective strike as we approach the creatures. They move towards us, arms outstretched, their gait accompanied by an unsettling sound that blends a ghastly inhale with a scream. The noise pierces my ears, making me wanting to cover them.

As we ride past, Killian swings his sword, decapitating two of the creatures in one fluid motion. Blood spurts in a grotesque fountain from one, collapsing to the ground, while the other stands momentarily headless. Naneve, following closely behind us, ensures the third creature meets a similar fate, her actions causing it to collide with the second, both crashing to the ground in a heap.

For as long as I can, I keep my eyes fixed on the fallen creatures until darkness swallows them, and they fade from view, becoming part of the night once more.

We ride onward, the sky gradually lightening with the soft hues that herald the approach of dawn. The air is crisp and cool against my skin, and I tuck my fingers into Killian’s coat for warmth, the chill causing my knuckles to tingle. Killian’s back serves as my only shield against the cold wind that strikes my face.

Seth occasionally glances in his rearview mirror. Sometimes our eyes meet, and in those moments, it feels as if he’s peering deep into my soul, as if nothing else in the world exists but him and me. It’s a feeling that’s both chilling and exhilarating, igniting a warmth in my heart—a heart I thought had long since ceased to feel.

Hope used to be a part of my life when I was younger. Hope for me. Hope for my father to find me, hope to escape, hope for the world to change and hope for something to get better.

Now, as we ride through this altered world, I find myself clinging to that same hope, albeit different. It's a hope not just for survival, but for something more, something beyond the confines of the life I've known.

The night when Craven sold me at the auctions, despite its horrors, was perhaps the best night. I could have never imagined a world like this, even though our journey has been fraught with fights and battles. But there's something about the way Seth looks at me, something I can't quite put into words or perhaps even comprehend. It's like he can touch me even when we're several feet apart. It's akin to the part of me that senses the thirsty all around us—this part feels his presence, too. But he carries a deep sadness beneath his darkness, a sorrow hidden beneath the cocky and controlling exterior that he presents to the world.

We've veered off the main road onto a series of other roads. I'm disoriented, my head spinning, and I'm exhausted. I can't even recall the last time I slept. My eyes sting with weariness, my back throbs and my hands ache from gripping onto Killian.

Seth's previous observation about this area proves accurate. We come across very few of the thirsty here, the landscape offering no refuge or sustenance for them. The few buildings we pass are nothing but dilapidated ruins. I find myself wondering about the humans who might be hiding within these structures, much like Jackie and the Hollows, desperately trying to avoid both the thirsty and the vampires. The sense of desolation is thick, reminiscent of a post-war city where everything is shattered, and everyone has vanished.

After encountering the initial three, we only meet about half a dozen more thirsty. They are mere stragglers, aimlessly wandering along the roadside, forlornly searching for their next meal. But we are not their prey. Killian and Naneve efficiently end their miserable existence, swiftly and without hesitation. Their actions, though harsh, seem almost merciful in this desolate world where the line between predator and prey is so thinly drawn.

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