Rise of Midnight Read online

  This mass of pure muscle stared back at me with its large black pupils surrounded by orb-like irises, the left a sage green and the right a baby blue. My eyes.

  I moved. It moved. I paused. It did, too.

  It was me, a reflection of me in the windows of another building, the image of a non-existent creature coming to life right before my eyes. According to my reflection, I was a seven hundred pound feline, a muscular and armored panther-like form. I wavered. But then, I felt excited, giddy as another wave of adrenaline rose inside of me. Letting loose a bloodcurdling roar, I enjoyed listening to it bounce off the skyscrapers in the distance. An unrealistic confidence surged within me. Another roar surfaced.

  My ears perked up. They caught a noise that resounded from somewhere around me. I spun. There—another pale man. He kneeled on the roof’s edge opposite me. His dusky silver hair blew across his face. His eyes glinted in between strands. I backed away, but he pursued. He loomed over me before I realized it. His arm wrapped around the girth of my neck. My head swam as I tried to struggle away, but my strength didn’t seem to faze him.

  “Forgive me,” he whispered in my ear.

  I raked my claws across his arm. His sleeve shredded under my paw, but I never felt blood or torn flesh. Everything blurred together as I gasped for air. My ears rang. An overwhelming light-headedness took me over. My legs buckled and caused me to collapse. When I hit the concrete muzzle first, I tasted blood and felt my body tingle and shrink.

  Everything went black.

  Chapter 7

  Part 1

  People of the Night

  “Finally awake, Autumn? How are you feeling?”

  A voice brought me around, but I swore I dreamt it. Ever so slightly, my eyes opened to a haze of color. I blinked several times before my vision cleared. I lifted my head. I found myself lying in a neatly made bed far larger than the twin I slept in at home. My eyes swept across the small and elegant room. They gathered every little detail.

  I examined the woodwork on the walls and ceiling. The antique wallpaper held a detailed but faded salmon and hunter green floral print against a splotchy amber background, which probably used to be white. It also peeled at every corner of the room. Warped and splintering two-by-fours covered a window on my right from the inside, framed by heavy-looking curtains hanging down to the hardwood floors. Despite that the entire place smelled of old wood and musk, I felt relieved to wake up in such a comfortable setting.

  My eyes met the bright caramel brown eyes of a woman standing in the doorway. It was strange to me how the image of the man I’d encountered in the sewers appeared in my mind’s eye. This girl had the same warm skin tone, eyes, dark hair and even the same nose as he did that slightly turned up at the end. She might have been my age, maybe a little older, and as I studied her face, my heart missed a beat.

  I knew her! Eden—the girl in the picture I found in Jacoby’s room, the same girl I’d met at his funeral.

  She came to sit on the end of the bed, all the while adjusting the sleeve of her satin turquoise blouse.

  I sat up, feeling as if I weighed a ton.

  “Eden,” I blurted. “Where—”

  “I know you’re confused,” she began. “But before I explain what’s going on, you should take a nice long shower and eat a little something. You were in an underground prison for the past few hours, and I’d say you’re a little overdue for both.”

  A warm smile tugged at her lips as she picked up a glass from the nightstand. It was filled to the rim with what appeared to be red wine.

  “It’s good to see you again. I’m just sorry it’s under these circumstances,” she apologized after taking a sip. “I think you met my brother Garrett, the guy with the dreads. He and a team of our vampire friends saved your little tail tonight.”

  “I…vampires?” I stuttered. “No. No. Not again. I’m still dreaming.”

  “This is no dream, Autumn. I’ll explain everything shortly,” she promised. “Believe me, it’s not what you think. But first, let’s take care of you.” She went to a small cabinet to my left where she pulled out a towel and washcloth and handed them to me. “Come down to the kitchen when you’re done. This place isn’t that big. Well, above ground, anyway. You’ll be able to find your way around easily. Take your time, and make yourself at home.”

  As she left, I went into the quaint bathroom and caught my reflection in the mirror above the sink. The room was just large enough to do what needed to be done, and that was it. On my right, an old and immaculate claw-foot tub sat surrounded by a white shower curtain. Below the white chair railing, a blush wallpaper with cherry blossom branches stretched around the lower half of the walls. When I moved to the oval sink, the hardwood floor creaked. It, too, appeared faded and cracked—so ugly, in fact, that I took one of the towels from the sink and laid it flat on the floor to cover it up. I gripped the loose diamond-cut orb that was the bathroom doorknob, and it faintly twinkled as I closed the door behind me.

  I grabbed every shampoo, conditioner and body wash I could find in the small wash cabinet. While showering, I searched for the wounds I’d sustained a few hours earlier. I remembered the moment one of the men had knocked my pocketknife from my hand before I was taken underground. I’d expected it to be bruised or still aching, but as I lifted and rotated my wrist, I found it completely pain-free. I couldn’t find the cut I remembered getting when my car wrecked, and I didn’t even feel the whiplash anymore.

  While the water ran down my skin, I felt as though I were washing away all the blood and grime from that underground place, and in my imagination, it all swirled down the drain. With muscles relaxed, skin tingling from the hot water, I stepped from the shower. The first things I noticed were my clothes missing from the sink. I crept from the bathroom wrapped tightly in a towel and feeling like an entirely new person. A clean set of clothes lay on the bed alongside Jacoby’s pocketknife, which also looked like it’d been scrubbed clean. Who the clothes belonged to, I had no idea, but I assumed it was safe to say they were mine now.

  After getting dressed, I glided the knife into my pocket. I hoped I wouldn’t need it anymore. Timidly, I went to the doorway. Directly across from my room was a small loft overlooking the staircase. On my left was a room adjacent to mine with the door closed. Farther down, a deeply set dormer and another boarded up windowpane caught my eye. An end table sat just below. A vase of wilted roses sat in its center alongside a heavily used ashtray. To my right, the hallway extended about a yard where a staircase descended. I went down them without a second thought. This led me to a small landing just beside the front door. It, too, was boarded up. Just beside it were three bay windows that had the potential to accent the entryway if they hadn’t also been boarded up.

  To the left, the entryway opened up and presented a living room where an antique and cream-colored couch sat against the back wall. There didn’t seem to be a TV in sight, but there sat an empty entertainment center. The kitchen shared a side wall with the living room. Directly beside that, at the back of the house and below the mezzanine, was a sitting room. Here, two fraying ruby loveseats faced one another. Just past them appeared to be the back door, the only entrance or exit I’d seen so far that wasn’t boarded up. Overall, the downstairs area sat in tight quarters, but the vaulted ceilings helped provide a spacious illusion. By the layout, I guessed this was all part of an old townhouse—what we call in Chicago, a “greystone”.

  I entered the kitchen, scanned the old appliances—the sink, gas stove and small refrigerator. That’s where I encountered Eden again. She took another glass of wine from the refrigerator and sat down at the kitchen table. I had to take a second look, skeptical of the elaborate meal occupying it.

  “Sit down and eat,” Eden urged warmly and crossed her arms.

  I felt too nervous to sit beside her now that I’d had time to think about things. If that guy Garrett from the sewer really was her brother, that meant Eden wasn’t human, either. I wondered if they were part of
this so-called “haviden” race, too. But I hungered after the steak steaming on the plate closest to me. A side of mashed potatoes and corn accompanied it as well as four more bowls full of food. My hunger overrode my fear.

  “Is this all for me?” I asked, uncertain.

  Eden peered over each of her shoulders. “I don’t see anyone else around here who eats,” she said with a grin.

  I thought it was a weird thing to say but ignored it and pulled up a chair.

  “Are you sure you don’t want any?” I asked her. “I can’t eat all of this.”

  “Are you kidding?” she asked with raised eyebrows. “I can’t eat that stuff. It’s all for you. Whatever you don’t finish, I’ll put back in the fridge for you later. Go ahead and eat. I’ll try to explain everything to you.”

  “What’s with the boards on the windows and doors?” I couldn’t help but to ask.

  “To reinforce them, but mainly to help keep out the sunlight,” she explained nonchalantly.

  “Oh…okay. Um—” I said, unsure how to answer. “Thank you for the clothes. I appreciate it.”

  She studied me and sipped on her wine. “They’re a little big on you, but they’ll work for now. I figured you wouldn’t want to wear what you had on as dirty and bloody as they were,” she said as I eased into the chair. “I threw them in the washer for you. I need to get your sizes so I can find more clothes for you along with a few other things tomorrow.”

  “What? For what?” I asked.

  “I know it must sound ridiculous for you not to be able to go with me to get your own things, but trust me. It’s for your safety. I promise we don’t mean you any harm. We don’t want you to feel like a prisoner here, but it’s for the best. You’re going to be here for a while.”

  I paused with a spoon full of mashed potatoes firmly pressed between my lips. My stomach tied itself into knots, causing my appetite to immediately suppress. My eyes floated to my plate. The spoon clanged against it when I set it down.

  Her words replayed in my head. You’re going to be here for a while.

  I swallowed my food. “How long is ‘a while’?” I had to restrain from snarling as I spoke.

  “Shane, the man and his clan who held you prisoner last night—forget anything he may have told you. They are the enemy,” she went on as if I hadn’t asked.

  “Eden, look. I’m sorry, but I really don’t care about any of that. I just want to know when I can go home. My parents are probably losing their shit right now.”

  “Autumn, please,” she replied faintly. “Just hear what I have to say first. Let me set the record straight. I’m not sure what kinds of things Shane and his men said to you when they brought you in, but I can guarantee that most, if not all of it, was a lie. You are the reincarnation of our vampire leader Lady Latresma, one of the eldest, most powerful leaders of the Vampire Nation. She and her associate in leadership, Lord Cavell, are still legends of our time. Latresma and her prophecy are universally known in the vampire world. It’s like a fairy tale except this tale is true and has been told for many years throughout generations of vampires and havidens. Sadly, not many believe in its legitimacy anymore, or at least those who haven’t laid eyes on you yet.

  “In the early seventeen hundreds, a demon named Arlos showed his face to the Vampire Nation. Whether he found his way through himself or if someone brought him here, nobody knows. We do know that he sought out ways of creating a stronger race of beings. Mostly, he studied the writings of a vampire elder, Maurice, who was exiled for these very writings. Following what was written in Maurice’s journals, Arlos imprisoned numerous humans and vampires, performing gruesome experiments on them. Of the previously untested theories written in the elder’s journals, only two held up. A human being’s consumption of vampire tears that resulted in the human dying, then arising with an impressive scale of strengths and abilities—a ‘haviden’. And then the other, the breeding of a vampire and a human with an inherent gene, bringing forth a haviden child. That gene is, of course, unknown, and there is no way to tell which human carries it. That part is more of a theory than a fact. Through other experiments, Arlos also learned that the havidens are sterile beings, so he had to go on creating them as he already had.

  “He brought to life many of them using these two ways until he encountered humans, and even a handful of vampires, who joined him—who willingly participated in becoming or creating the havidens. These vampires who volunteered to become part of the experimentations did so against the law. Long ago, it was against their laws for vampires and humans to try conceiving children together. The vampire leaders wanted to keep a definite line between the races. If that law were broken, it was punishable by death, I’ll add. But things are quite different these days. That law no longer stands. Even so, the creation of a haviden is rare at best and is still looked down upon by the Vampire Nation.

  “Arlos kidnapped Lady Latresma in 1715 sometime after he began his experimentations. Lord Cavell demanded his arrest. Latresma was safely returned, and Arlos was brought before the Vampire Royal Court. He explained his actions and ideas of raising an entirely new world of havidens. But of course, Lord Cavell rejected his logic and sentenced Arlos to death. Arlos flew into a rage. He murdered the entire leadership court including Lady Latresma. As told by the few royal guards who survived Arlos’ attack, while Latresma lay dying, she promised to return as a human to stop Arlos.”

  “Shane told me Arlos and Latresma were working together,” I began, confused. “And that she was returning to help him get rid of the vampires.”

  “That’s a lie. Remember what I said. Shane probably told you a lot of things so you’d cooperate with him. They would’ve continued lying to you until Arlos got exactly what he wanted out of you. As long as you cooperate with Arlos, he can eventually gain complete control over you, over your mind. This is one of his demonic powers. One of many. But we intervened before they could take you to him. I don’t know what other lies were told to you regarding Arlos and what he wants, but I’m here to tell you exactly what that hell-demon plans to do. He wants to open a portal to hell to allow more demons like him through.”

  “So, he’s not here to save the human race from vampires?” I asked timidly, angered by how much Shane had lied to me.

  “Hell no. He’s not here to save anyone,” Eden confirmed with resentment in her voice. “He’s a demon. His nature is to destroy. He’s here to exterminate. He won’t let anything get in the way of annihilating both the human and vampire races…even if it means that the havidens he created starve to death after the demise of the humans. To him, they are merely a stepping stone on his way to bringing his army of hell here.”

  “Then what does he want with me?” I wondered aloud.

  “It’s obvious to us. He wants to use the powers you potentially have passed down from Latresma to help him in opening his portal to hell. From what we’ve gathered, he can’t do it without you. You’re more useful to him alive, for now anyway. If he has you, Latresma’s reincarnation, on his side with all of her spells and abilities. Then—”

  “Spells and abilities?” I stopped her.

  “I mean, think about it. Not only will he open his portal, but he’ll also have anything else he wants. You alone can make him more powerful than he’s ever been. He may try to sweet talk you into joining him, but if you deny him, we believe he won’t hesitate to kill you…or worse.”

  “Kill me?” I asked, my voice rising. “Why the hell would he want to kill me? And what powers?”

  “You are his only threat, Autumn. You are the key to stopping him. That’s why we have to keep you here, safe from Arlos and his followers.”

  “But what makes you think that I can fight a demon? I mean, it's not like this Latresma woman left us with instructions. Is there anything that you know for a fact?”

  “Look, we can only go by this one thing—that she promised she’d return to send him back, and the fact that you’re here says a lot. We aren’t mistaken. The aura you
radiate, it proves everything.”

  “So far, the only thing Shane didn’t lie to me about is that I’m carrying around the soul of a dead vampire and that I have an aura. Why am I the only one who can get rid of this Arlos guy? And what abilities do I have?”

  “Latresma was a caster, the only known vampire who could use the art of spell crafting.

  The Lost Craft, to be specific. There is no telling what Latresma can do through you, what you can do.”

  “I can cast spells?” I asked. “That would explain what happened to me last night while I was jumping fifty feet in the air and scaling high-rises.”

  “At first, it was all a theory. That’s why Arlos wants you so badly. But yes, you proved it with that little hell-cat stunt you pulled. By the way, don’t ever do that in public again if you can help it. I’m assuming it’s one of Latresma’s protection incantations, but it was the most dangerous thing you could have done. It’s a sure way to get Arlos’ followers to notice you.”

  “Honestly, I don’t even know how I turned into that thing,” I admitted.

  “Probably a good thing until you learn to control it, but you may have instinctively chanted a spell. It must be some kind of defense mechanism, a part of being Latresma’s reincarnation. It’s one of many, I’m sure. But don’t ask me how to use them. I’m merely a haviden. I don’t know anything about casting spells.”

  “That makes two of us. And you’re half vampire, too? A ‘haviden’?” I asked, trying out the word. I couldn't believe I was even asking such a question.

  “Yes,” she said with a nod. “My brother Garrett and I. ‘Haviden’ is the demon word for ‘half-blood’. We’re not as physically strong or as fast as the vampires, but we’re stronger in the sense that we don’t have the weaknesses they do. For instance, we can walk in daylight without perishing. Vampires cannot. We age physically like a human until we reach twenty where we begin aging much more slowly, whereas vampires stop aging at rebirth. It’s just little things like that which set us apart. I might look like I’m in my early twenties, but I’ve looked this way for several decades. I’m closer to ninety. Garrett is eighty-four now.”