Blood Omen Book I: The Vampire Wars

Blood Omen 1: The Vampire Wars

Second Edition. Copyright 2015 Katie Ruth Davies

(First Edition, Copyright 2013 Katie Ruth Davies)

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means – by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise – without the prior written permission of the author.

Prologue

This isn't going to be one of those stories with a happy ending. The reason I know that is because I'm still living it.

But before we begin I have a question for you: if you saw Death waiting for you; saw Him just up the street ahead of you- waiting, half hidden in the darkness just outside the circle of light from a streetlamp- would you walk towards him, head held high? Or would you run the other way?

Make the choice now.

Because he's coming.

Chapter 1

Run. Run. Run.

My feet pounding on the tarmac pavement. My heart slamming against my ribcage, hard and fast in time with the word that flashed on and off in my brain: DANGER, DANGER, DANGER.

My lungs burning. The air seemed void of oxygen; raking harsh fingernails down my dry throat as I sucked in and blew out. Even the tears I swallowed couldn't satiate the dryness; the pain.

I didn't know if I was running from him or towards him. I only knew he was there, somewhere.

Waiting.

Waiting for me.

And he would find me.

Just like he always did.

I searched the shadows as I ran. Was that him there in the darkness between the silent houses? Or there: his face in the window of the corner shop? He was everywhere and nowhere; in every garden; in every house of sleeping strangers; in each and every heartbeat.

Run.

'Dea?'

I pulled up short, my bare feet sliding painfully on the sharp stones of the pavement. I felt them tearing into the soles, bringing the stinging warmth of blood. My eyes darted all around me even as I doubled over with my sweating hands on my knees, struggling not to retch. My heart throbbed loudly in my ears; the only sound in the silence of night on this empty street.

'Dea?' Her voice, like a trembling breath carried on a breeze.

"Mum?" I whispered aloud, frowning.

'Dea...come. Help me...' Beckoning now, and at the same time fading away.

"MUM!?" I shouted, the fear tearing at my raw throat. This was wrong. She wasn't supposed to be here. If he found her...

'Dea...'

I suddenly became certain that the voice was coming from ahead of me. From somewhere nearby. I began to limp forwards, leaving behind me dark bloody footprints.

"Where are you?" My voice came out as a dry croak.

'Here.'

"Where...?"

And then, as I passed a parked car, I saw her. She was on her knees in the middle of the road dressed in her hospital gown, her hands bound and bloody in front of her, her hair stuck to her head in damp sweat-soaked layers; her head bowed, barely illuminated by the light of the streetlamps.