Chapter 3

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Trisha's P.O.V:

I burst out laughing, unable to keep my emotions in check. Erupting into a fit of giggles before it turned to a full out maniac laughter.

"Bring you Damien Vandolff?" I asked, after my laughter had subsided. "What am I supposed to do? Carry him on my back and hand him over to you? The man can teleport, Mr. Donovan, if you haven't heard about it yet!"

"I'm aware, Ms. Redfern," his voice had turned serious. "Which is why I want you to meet me at Paradise International this afternoon, 1p.m on the dot at room no. 2101. Don't be late, or you might regret it."

The phone went dead before I could say anything and I kept staring at the phone, speechless, for the next ten minutes.

Helplessly, I shifted my gaze to the clock above my bedroom door. 7.11 A.M. I still had about six hours left to decide my best course of action, but I had a gut feeling I didn't have a choice. What else was I supposed to do? Where would I run? The lands were controlled by Damien, the woods by Lucas and the sea by Rosanna Clintoff, a creature with the ability to control the water around her. No one knew who or what she was, but she was just as dangerous as Damien and Lucas, if not more.

Not knowing what else to do, I called the only person who I could count on my secrets. Jonathan Redfern.

***

During the Wipeout, not only were humans and other species killed mercilessly, they were also turned against their will. But in some cases, the turner had no other choice. As was the case with Jonathan Redfern, a 600 year old vampire who had wanted nothing more than to end his life when his entire family had been slaughtered during a werewolf attack.

He'd been wandering aimlessly through the shredded village when he'd heard a faint heart beat. My entire village had been slaughtered, but somehow, I'd survived, barely holding onto life by a thin string. But instead of wandering off and leaving me to die, he'd made the choice to turn me into a vampire, to give me a new life. But that was two centuries ago, 2019 A.D. The world has changed considerably since then.

Part of the reason I wanted to fight for Neema was because when my entire village had been massacred, my four year old son had died too. Neema bore an uncanny resemblance to David, my deceased son. The same golden locks and blue eyes. The first day he'd arrived at my office, I'd actually mistaken him for David. But that had been impossible. David was dead. He'll never come back again.

The door bell rung exact half an hour after I'd made the call. Neema was still asleep so I'd made sure to keep the door to my room locked so no sound could reach him. I rushed over to the door and after checking the surveillance footage from the cameras placed all around my house, opened the door to a familiar bearded face. "Father!" Not by blood, but in every other way.

He opened his arms wide for me and as I went into them, for the first time in three months, I felt safe, relieved. "Come on in." I told him as I shut the door and locked it with the state of the art technology that had been developed to keep vampires out of any home.

"Is Neema asleep?" he asked as he took a seat on the living room couch. Being turned at a later age, his face wasn't as flawless as that of most other vampires who had been turned earlier in life, when they were at the prime of their youth. But it was a face that held kindness and authority. Jonathan Redfern was a Healer, a Vampire's version of a Doctor and he was quite famous among other species too since he could heal most of them. The only fact I didn't like about his career was the fact that he was a Royal Healer, working for Damien.

"Yes." I told him, pouring him a cup of Darjeeling tea that was his favorite. "Does anyone know you're here?" Jonathan has kept my secret that Neema was currently residing with me in my house. But that secret was getting harder and harder to keep. Damien had spies all around and they didn't spare the family Doctor even though he'd been loyal to them for over five hundred years.

"No, but I'm afraid Damien has started to suspect something." He sighed, making the hair at my nape stand in alert.

"Did he hurt you?" Taking his rage out on me was a different matter, but hurting one of his most trusted men? Damien preferred to keep a very small circle of people whom he trusted with his life, and one of them was my father.

"No, but after what he did to you...I'm surprised he hasn't done anything to me yet."

"And I hope that he has enough sense in him to never try that!" I spat. "How could a man with such low morals become the Vampire King?"

"You know why, Trisha." Jonathan said with a sad smile, and he was right. I knew why he had been chosen King.

He was the first of our kind to become King at an early age of 300 years. Damien was a natural leader and whatever he said, people listened. His presence, his aura is so powerful that even the eldest of our race bow before him. He was also the most powerful vampire of our times. At 900, he could control all four elements and even teleport to far off destinations without breaking a sweat. Not much is known about his origin except for the fact that he had been the only child of the previous Vampire King, his mother having died at childbirth. But no one dares talk about his past and those who try to dig around usually disappear from the face of the Earth.

"So, you wanted to discuss something with me?" Jonathan finally asks, and I'm suddenly unsure as to what I'm supposed to say.

"Father...it's-"

A sudden scream from my bedroom has me leaping to my feet and rushing over to Neema. I barged in through the doors to find him thrashing around in bed, crying helplessly as tears stream down his face.

"Neema! Neema! Wake up!" I shake him to wake him up from the nightmare but he refuses to open his eyes.

"Wait, I can help him." Jonathan kneels on the ground next to the bed and places his hand on the boy's forehead. A faint golden glow comes off his hands and Neema stops thrashing around. A few more minutes and Neema has gone completely still, his face no longer twisted with the nightmare.

After about five minutes, Jonathan removes his hand from his forehead and I lay Neema back on the pillows, draping the covers over him properly.

"How long has this been going on?" Father asks.

"Since he got here." I tell him. "It's gotten better though. It was worse when he first arrived. But he's healing, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure that he never has to endure this pain again."

Father studied me with sharp hazel eyes. "You know this won't be so easy, right? Every single vampire out there is going to rebel against Damien if he somehow miraculously agrees to abolish the blood slave law and give humans back their rights and freedoms."

"I know." I told him. "But I'll never stop believing that we can all co-exist peacefully and I'll do everything in my power to make it a reality. Even if it's the last thing I do."

What I didn't tell him was that now I had the means to make that dream into a reality.

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