Drown Under Earth - Shadows of the Night 3

Chapter 27

Hi!

I hope you had a great weekend! Writing this chapter was fun and I hope you enjoy reading this! Let me know.

Lara

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Chapter 27

I closed the front door behind me and strutted out into the street like the madwoman I felt and probably looked like. The depths of the closet in that apartment had produced a black leather cap that could have belonged to the policeman of the Village People. At least it matched the leather jacket. I could have done without the studs on the shoulders, though.

Now that I wasn’t wearing those stupid sunglasses, I could at least see who was going to jump me. Fat lot of good it would do me.

I gripped the cap and drew it deep into my face, hiding my hair inside of it. So much to enhanced vision. As a quick, but exhausting side-trip into second sight had shown, there were still vamps in the street. Last I checked they were on the other end of it. I crossed the street, aiming for that gap in the vamps’ ring I had seen.

It lay right before me. It was the only exit strategy I had left. Going back to my car was a no-no for more than one reason. One: I would have to go into the direction of the Jolterhead, which should have descended into chaos by now. I would encounter another bunch of Alexander’s goons way before reaching it – I checked when I went into in second sight and they were still there. Two: There were not that many people who were crazy enough to drive that kind of junk car. At least Zack and Alexander had seen my green Ford up close. For all I knew half of Alexander’s goons would recognize it too.

I drifted along on the sidewalk, my knees feeling like Jell-O. Locking my magic inside of me and masking my aura as human had taken the last ounce of strength I had. To anyone able to read auras (or sense magic) I looked and felt like a Jane-Doe-human. As drained as I was I damned well could have been one for real.

“Come on! Let’s go!”

I looked up at the voice, peering out from my leather cap warily – and groaned inwardly.

Not those bleeder addicts again.

The streetlights threw a warm orange glow over their features. They were about twenty feet away from me. Five people, teenagers, crazy enough to go into the Red Zone of their own free will. Three couldn’t have seen their twentieth birthday yet, including a girl dressed in an admittedly interesting new variety of Goth.

“I wanna go to the Crimson District. Beats hanging out here,” the girl said.

As I moved closer, one of them happened to look my way. His too thin, pale face peeked out from a hood. The black sweater looked worn and practically reeked of Goth-fashion. Somehow he reminded me of me in my earlier outfit. That was not what made me take a closer look, however. His watery blue eyes were shiny, had that vacant look eyes got when the body was flooded with intoxicants. I doubted that he had had legal highs. I eyed the rest.

It was not only him. The whole group was as stoned as a wall.

“No. Five more minutes,” one of the guys threw in.

“Man, how many times do I have to tell ya? Alexander’s not gonna show up,” the girl snapped.

Wait a moment! Where they talking about THE Alexander?! Oh crap!

I turned around, flinching like a teenager sneaking out in the middle of the night. My eyes did that roaming thing. Uncoordinated and frantic, they went up and down the street. I almost expected to see the emotionless face of New York’s biggest undead shot. I cursed under my breath for my lapse and willed my body to do what it was supposed to do. Walk past a group of addictive bleeders like your neighborhood human Joe, then slink away and get the hell out of here.