The picture in the photo section on the right is meant to be Zandre :3
Note: the picture on the right is property of Alex Evans (saturdayx on Deviantart) I do not own it.
This chapter was written in a bit of a rush, so if you spot mistakes, do let me know.
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Tears swell in my eyes, daring to fall and expose my weakness.
“You can’t take Cross away from me… I won’t have it!”’ My voice grows in intensity towards the end of my sentence, and I feel like charging at Jezebel.
Unwanted memories replay in my mind. The way Jezebel has a lock on Cross, threatening to turn him—the way Cross looks hopeless and in pain—it reminds me of the look on my mother’s face when she was turned into one of those monsters. The night she left me… the night my life changed and I automatically became a slayer.
She was taken away from me less than a year ago, and my heart aches to see her again. But I know I can’t. She’s a vampire now, and I don’t even know where she may be.
“I get what I want, sweetheart. Let’s face it, you can’t stop me. I’m the one in power here. I’m the eighty-two year old human who’s made a pact with the devil. You’re just a little girl, useless and horribly flawed.” Jezebel says to me, smiling widely as I see her fangs pop from her gums. She gets closer to Cross, going for his neck, almost reaching it…
“Jezebel, must you really be so rude?”
Everything stops. Movement, noises, and even thoughts.
A boy around my age walks down the stairs with his hand sliding down the railing. Unlike the other vampires, he’s not dressed fancy. He simply wears a loose white t-shirt and blue jeans along with… combat boots. What an odd outfit for a vampire...
“Off her.” He orders the two vampires holding me.
Suddenly, they release me and I fall to the ground. I cough a few times, my throat still in pain from the tight lock the vampire had on me. I grab my stomach, still feeling the dull yet horrible pain in my system.
“Master! I—I,” Jezebel searches for the right words, but she comes up blank. I see Cross look at the teenage boy, looking just as confused and curious as me.
Master? Him?!
“Let the man go.” He tells Jezebel, looking right into her eyes.
“But, I was going to—” Jezebel tries to protest.
“Now.” The boy orders, his voice stronger.
The boy—or, vampire master—has a voice different from the others. His voice is surprisingly… human. There’s so evil shining through in it, no horror, no… vampire-ness.
“Yes, master.” Jezebel says, looking down and releasing her hold on Cross.
Cross’s hands dart for his neck, feeling in disbelief that he hasn’t been bitten. He then quickly walks over and crouches next to me, his hand on my shoulder and his eyes searching my face protectively.
“Leave us.” The master orders again, and I’m overly amazed that all the vampires actually walk away—the two vampire men leave the restaurant out the back door Cross and I entered from, and Jezebel walks back upstairs softly. She looks humiliated and small.
Cross and I both look up at the master. He appears to be around our age with a simple high school student outward appearance. His over-the-ears hair is dark and looks lush, almost as if he spends time making it look so shiny and healthy. His skin isn’t horribly pale, and I see no sign of purple veins showing through. His eyes are a piercing, chilly ice-blue. They don’t have a vampire look about them, instead, they just look very light and actually, very beautiful…
YOU ARE READING
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Vampire→Slayer rule #1: Never fall in love with the target you're meant to kill.
