 
# The Turning: Bound to Darkness

(Prequel)

A Novel by

April M. Reign

&

E. Arellano

## The Turning: Bound to Darkness

Prequel

April M. Reign

Copyright 2011 by April M. Reign

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the permission of the author, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

This is the work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of this author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

## OTHER BOOKS BY APRIL M. REIGN

The Turning – Unleashed (Book 1)

The Mancini Saga: IOU (Book 1)

The Mancini Saga: Snap Shot (Book 2)

Beyond Today

Dividing Destiny

Enticing the Moon

# BOOKS COMING IN 2012

Christmas with the Mancinis

# BOOKS COMING IN 2013

Dhellia Series

The Turning: Vampire Vengeance (Book 2)

The Mancini Saga (Book 3)

## Prologue

_Am I dead?_ Nicholas thought. His mind faded in and out of consciousness. One minute, he could see the chaos around him, and the next minute, everything was dark. Like a strobe of flickering light, the world around him moved in slow motion. Nicholas closed his eyes tightly before he slowly opened them again.

Briefly, he was able to focus long enough to become aware of his surroundings. What did he notice first? Was it the lights or was it the pain screeching through his body?

Slowly, it all became clear. Noise, confusion, people yelling orders to each other, and sirens blaring, all surrounded him. But, it was the consistent thudding in his head that sped up and then slowed down. That consistent inner pounding threatened to consume him. He knew it was his heart, but the labored beating sounded odd. It felt wrong. Nicholas tried desperately to remember what had happened to him. He tried to, but the insistent beating of his heart echoed louder than his thoughts.

He knew he was lying down. His body was shaking violently, but even that felt strange. His arms and legs felt heavily weighted down. He could move his fingers and toes beneath the restraints that confined his limbs, which in turn eased his mind that he was not paralyzed.

The sounds around him were deafening and the pain was unbearable. His blood-tinted eyes distinguished the bright interior surroundings. As the siren blared, he realized that he was in an ambulance. Suddenly, the pain, the noise, and the horror that had broken open like a busted dam became secondary to what was more important—his wife.

"VICTORIA!" he tried to scream past the blood and saliva spurting from his mouth. The exposed artery on the side of his torn neck pulsated. He could not breathe, could not talk to the paramedics, could not stop shaking, could not stop bleeding—and he could not stop the pain.

He was unaware that his badly bruised, beaten, and bleeding wife lay in the ambulance following behind his. While he was fighting for his life, Victoria was fighting for three: hers, and their unborn twins.

Once the ambulance stopped, Nicholas heard doors open and slam shut. One second, he stared at the ceiling of the ambulance and the next, he looked into the dark, starless sky. As the medics pulled him out of the ambulance, every shift and movement of the gurney gyrated bolts of pain through his body.

The flashing lights played havoc with his mind. Everything was happening at once, everything was confusing, and everything moved in slow motion—everything except his heartbeat. The medics wheeled Nicholas into a room filled with digital sounds and chaotic chatter. The noises, the pain . . . he felt the room spinning at the speed of light.

Amid it all, Victoria remained foremost in his mind. He tried to focus his thoughts on her to keep from fading. She was his rock, his stabilizer when he thought he was going to slip out of consciousness.

His body's gross, traumatic injuries and loss of blood were winning. Nicholas was losing his fight to survive. He knew his wife's voice would give him the strength to fight for his life. He tried to yell her name again, but her silence left him hopeless.

As he mentally fought to stay connected to his wife, Nicholas felt the room start to fade. He shook violently, yet again. The distorted sounds around him faded, and the lights dimmed. Then, as easily, as letting out a sigh, he succumbed to his fatal injuries and closed his eyes. His body released its final breath. The heart-rate monitor made the high-pitched drone of a perpetual flat line. The medical team stopped, and the room became instantly quiet.

Every medical person in the room looked at the head surgeon. His face may have been hidden behind his surgical mask, but his eyes searched the faces of everyone in the room. Then the head surgeon glanced at the clock and called the time. The medical team felt deflated, even defeated, but how could they have saved him with injuries that were so severe?

"Clean up, folks," the head surgeon stated. "We may have lost him, but we have his wife in the next room. She's eight months pregnant and ready to give birth. Let's make sure we don't lose her, too."

Three members of the medical team left to assist with the delivery of Victoria Shelly's twins. A nurse pulled Nicholas's surgeon aside. "Doctor," she said under her breath, "I've never seen injuries like this. What do you suspect happened?"

"A wild animal—it had to have been. What else could've torn him up like that?" he replied to the nurse. Then he looked directly into her eyes and leaned in toward her as if to tell her something in confidence. "But I've never seen anything like that either."

The small hospital in Stockwood, Washington was usually quiet. There was the occasional tourist who arrived at the hospital due to a hunting accident, or a parent who was frantic because their child had broken an arm or leg. But, the wounds inflicted on this patient baffled the medical team, even disturbed them.

The noisy, frantic room where Nicholas took his last breath was efficiently cleaned and rearranged. A nurse covered his lifeless body with a blanket and wheeled him downstairs to the morgue.

***

A howling sound from the air conditioner duct filled the cold room. A dripping sink echoed against the walls as each droplet hit a metal pan at the bottom of the basin. Death made the air thick in the room of corpses. Nicholas was just one of many in permanent slumber.

Suddenly, there was a rush of air, a small movement. Nicholas' chest began to rise and fall with each breath of air he sucked into his lungs. His rapid blinking moved the sheet, which covered his face. His body was cold.

The white sheet over his body and face annoyed him. Nicholas sat up and pulled the sheet off his face in one swift movement. Unknown to him, his black nails were longer than usual. His irises were no longer brown but matched his black pupils. What he noticed was a ravenous hunger that was gnawing at his stomach. Nicholas scanned the room in every direction, trying to figure out where he was and why he was there.

"Hello?" he called out.

His puzzled question echoed against the walls of the quiet room. His eyes darted from the drainage hole in the center of the tiled floor to the stainless steel door ten feet away from where he sat. He slid his legs off the table and stepped down onto the cold, white tile. Nicholas was alone—or, at least, the only thing standing—wearing nothing.

He took a step toward the door. He felt strange and uncoordinated, but he was confused by a strength he had never known before. His body was different—something had changed. Nicholas grabbed a lab coat draped over the back of a chair and quickly put it on.

Just outside his door, he heard two men talking. How could he hear people talking on the other side of a steel door? Their voices were loud, clear and distinct. His curiosity needed answers. He approached the door, held his breath, and leaned his ear to the cold metal.

The men were discussing how perplexed the doctors were with the mauling of two people in the hospital that evening. Nicholas had no clue what they were talking about until one of them said the phrase that revealed it all, a phrase that froze Nicholas right where he was and made his knees weak.

"At least the twins survived."

Instantly, Nicholas remembered why they were there. His memories flooded back like a crashing wave against his skull. _It was the attack! Those wild human-animal things attacked us out of nowhere!_ _We were helpless and left there to die._

_Victoria didn't survive?_ _My wife didn't survive?_ His mind raced around those words that seemed to echo in his head. Pain struck his stomach like an iron fist. He doubled over and grabbed his midsection. A mix between devastation and physical pain were holding him hostage.

"Victoria," he said reverently. He whispered her name. His quiet calls gradually became loud cries of anguish. "No, Victoria. No!" Nicholas crumpled to the floor.

His wailing caused the two hefty security guards standing outside his door to enter the morgue. At their feet was Nicholas. His dark brown hair was plastered to his scalp from dried blood. His long, black fingernails dug against the tiled floor.

"Sir, what are you doing in here? Patients are not allowed in this room." The guard leaned down to help Nicholas to his feet.

Nicholas growled. Deep, throaty growls that he had never heard come from his mouth welled up from deep within his chest. The hunger pangs were unbearable and he suddenly felt a desire to hurt someone . . . or worse.

He tried to focus on his wife—his beautiful redheaded wife, Victoria. She completed him. She was the love of his life—his soul mate. But, something else took over. He felt an uncontrollable rage consume his instincts.

Nicholas pushed himself onto his feet. The torment on his face, and the blackness of his eyes made the guards take a step back. One guard had his hand on his baton while the other pulled out a stun gun.

Nicholas had one thought that was as pressing as his hunger pangs: finding his twin babies. They were all he had left of his wife. "Where are they?!" he yelled.

"W-We don't know what you're talking about."

Without warning, Nicholas picked up one guard and threw him across the room into the tiled wall.

"Oh, fuck," the other guard whispered under his breath.

Nicholas's own strength shocked him, but he had no time to evaluate it. His head snapped back to glare at the other guard. A low, continual growl vibrated in the back of his throat. His black, enraged eyes glared at the guard.

"Where are Amaya and Apollo?" he demanded.

The guard's hand was shaking fiercely as he held the stun gun out in front of his body. "Who? I've n-n-no idea who you're talking about."

"Where are my twins?"

"Uh, uh, the nursery? Maybe the nursery? I'm only a guard. I don't know. Pl-please don't hurt me!"

Nicholas could hear the guard's pounding heart like a bass drum next to his ear. It was distracting his thoughts, and he wanted it to stop. He suddenly had an urge to hurt the guard.

In one swift movement, faster than the speed of thought, Nicholas thrust his hand through the man's chest and pulled out his beating heart. The guard, with his eyes wide open, crashed to the ground.

The heart was still beating in Nicholas' hand. He crushed his fingers around it, until it stopped the insistent thud. When he dropped the heart to the ground, a strong hunger pang lashed his stomach again. The bloody, caved-in ribcage of the guard sprawled out at his feet unleashed a sweet aroma he could not resist. He felt a strong instinct to taste—to drink. Without hesitation, he licked the blood from his hand.

He succumbed to his animalistic urge by ripping into the guard's jugular vein. The initial bite released a warm, thick gush of satisfaction he had never felt before. He did not fight it; his body needed that blood, and he acted accordingly. It felt right. Once he was full, Nicholas left the room in search of his twins.

In seconds, he ran up three flights of stairs. Although he was confused and disoriented, he had one goal: to find his twins. When he threw open the door to the nursery, another growl welled up from his chest to his throat. He approached two nurses and demanded that they release his children. Both nurses screamed and cowered on the floor behind the nurses' station.

Nicholas walked up to a nurse and grabbed her by her shirt, lifting her straight up and over his head. "Where are my twins?" he growled.

"T-twins? Th-they're over there. J-Jane and John Doe," she stammered.

Nicholas dropped her to the floor, turned and peered at the small row of bassinets. The guard's blood covered Nicholas's hands, arms, body and face. He looked like a skinless heap of blood walking toward the bassinet of babies, _his_ babies, and he was not leaving without them.

He searched the nametags on the bassinets. Finally, he found Jane and John Doe. He scooped up Amaya with her black hair and fair skin. Then he scooped up Apollo the same way, but stared at him a moment, fascinated by the same red hair his mother had. They were _his_ babies.

***

Nicholas ran for the staircase, cradling his newborn children between his arms and his sides. Among the screams and chaos his appearance alone created, he ran straight out the exit door, activating the hospital alarm. He did not care; he was determined to get out of the hospital with his babies.

He collided with a defenseless man just outside the hospital exit and kicked him on the chest, sending him through the air and against a large oak tree. His white lab coat flapped open. He continued to run until he heard the chaos of sirens close in around him. He slowed down as one police car after another slid into place, encircling him.

In a flash, he was standing in the middle of the street, in the dark of night, surrounded by flashing sirens and glaring police headlights—he blinked and then he was gone. Large claws gripped Nicholas Shelly's shoulders and lifted him into the air of the dark ominous night. Nicholas tightened his arms around his babies, so tight that he was close to smothering them.

## -1-

5 years later

**Nicholas leaned his** shoulder against the bedroom doorjamb where Apollo and Amaya were sleeping. He watched and admired his children with an overwhelming amount of pride and love—a love that did not require a soul.

The twins were the result of the love that Nicholas once shared with his wife. His children were a gift. They were a reminder of the moments of perfection he'd shared with her. Whenever he looked at them, he reminisced about his human life.

Nicholas tried to hold onto those memories with his lovely Victoria. However, with every second that ticked away, he was another memory further from his life with her. His human years were those of the past; they were blurred memories floating below the surface of a river, yet, every once in a while, he would see a glimmer of _her_. He could see his beloved Victoria in the mannerisms of their twins. In those rare moments, if Nicholas _had_ a beating heart, it would have skipped a beat.

As he stood in the doorway and stared at his young children, he realized that they would age while he physically remained the twenty-six-year-old man he was just before the attack. What choice did he have but to change his children from human to vampire at the mature age of eighteen?

Sure, there were vampire customs that he wished he could protect his children from knowing. One of those things was the urge to drink blood or feed on humans. However, he justified his thoughts with one question: what made vampires any different from human beings? People were carnivores. They slaughtered cattle, pigs, chickens for their own consumption. Humans were part of the food chain, too.

But, he refused to watch his children grow old, wither, and then die while he remained young and strong. Maybe he was being selfish—maybe—but no parent wants to bury a child, not even a vampire parent.

There were times he missed his human life. During those times, he lived vicariously through his twins. He watched their innocent faces light up when he entered the room. It touched him to see the love that they had for him—love that vampires rarely knew, understood, or even remembered.

On the night of his vampire birth, Nicholas felt disoriented and clouded by his competing impulses and memories of his human life. However, his fierce, intense lust for blood erased those memories. He was a ball of rage, starving to quench his thirst. A massive amount of strength surged through him like a fireball of anger when he realized he had lost his wife. He was raw, untamed, and destructive. His strength overpowered his body. This was a body he was not familiar with—a body full of adrenaline yet, oddly lifeless.

That is exactly how Maximiliano found Nicholas: confused and alone, running through the hospital parking lot in Stockwood. Max swooped down, grabbed Nicholas with his sharp claws, and flew him back into the cavern that was nestled in the forest below ground. A few hundred feet from the cave was an old house—the very house in which Nicholas now stood, watching his five-year-old twins sleep.

Maximiliano granted immediate protection over Nicholas's children. Of course, such an agreement came with a price. It was a price Nicholas was willing to pay if it meant his children would be safe until they were eighteen. Then he could turn them from human to vampire.

Even in those first days, when Nicholas fought over his thirst for blood, their beating hearts never tempted him, never made him waver from his role as their father. This was a rarity. It took time for clan members like Ori, Tereq and Fatima to build up a resistance to the smell of the children's blood. In time, they were all successful in befriending the children and keeping their dark, vampire secret hidden from them.

Nicholas sensed when Fatima entered the house. Her earthly scent tantalized his hyper vigilant senses. He could hear her light footsteps walk up the stairs toward the children's bedroom. He imagined her deep blue eyes, long auburn hair and slim body walking up to him. When she stood behind him, he always knew she was there.

Fatima had been the first to befriend Nicholas after Maximiliano brought him from the hospital to the cavern. Nicholas remembered his first glance at her. She resembled his beloved Victoria. It was because of that close resemblance that he was able to adjust to his life in the clan.

Fatima had seen many humans turned into vampires in the century that she had walked amongst her peers. When she was attacked and reborn a vampire, she fled her hometown of Portland, Oregon. Instinctively, she ran far away from her five-year-old son and husband in order to spare their lives. She needed answers. She needed to know what or who attacked her. More than that, she needed to know what she had become and why.

Brokenhearted, she made her way, by night, from Portland toward the northeast through Washington. She kept a low profile below ground, through sewers and in the shadows, only surfacing at night.

In the beginning, Fatima fed on rodents and small animals, fearful to sink her teeth into the flesh of a human being. But, as time moved forward and the memories of her family began to fade, Fatima began to feed herself with the oozing blood that ran through the veins of mortals.

When she made it to the outskirts of Washington, she ran into other creatures like herself. Ori, Tereq, and Vasco took her in, taught her how to hunt, and soon allowed her into the Sanguis clan. She has remained a faithful servant and follower of their leader, Maximiliano, for almost 98 years.

Fatima slid her hands around Nicholas's waist as she stood next to him, and watched the children sleep. She glanced up at Nicholas's profile. His neatly cut, jet-black hair cupped around his ears. His strong chiseled jaw and defined nose were secondary to his clenched teeth. She could see the tension in his face, and sensed the unwavering commitment to his children in his eyes.

She looked toward the bunk bed against the far wall. A single candle flickered in the room, providing enough light to see the children balled up beneath their covers. The top bunk was Apollo's, and the bottom was Amaya's bed. Tonight, however, Apollo cuddled with Amaya on the bottom bed.

Fatima had just fed at the blood bank; therefore, the children's small beating hearts were not as inviting as they might have been otherwise. She loved Amaya and Apollo as if they were her own children, but at the end of the day, they were human and she was a vampire. Fatima always took precautions before she spent time with them, making sure she was not ravishingly hungry.

The palm of her hand rested on Nicholas's back while her thumb moved back and forth in a comforting motion. His tense muscles conveyed the obvious strong emotional conflict he was feeling.

"You're worried about Apollo?" Fatima whispered.

"I am."

"You're worried about his heart."

"Yes, listen to it. It's beating twice as fast as Amaya's heartbeat."

Fatima listened closer. She closed her eyes and focused on Apollo's heartbeat. "Maybe it's time for you to run some tests."

"No, his heart has always beaten faster than hers. I heard it in the hospital when I pulled him from his bassinet. But, what concerns me is that it beats at double the speed of Amaya's. Maybe he needs to see a doctor."

"No, Nicholas. You can run tests from here if you think there might be a problem."

"I'm sure it's nothing. I'll continue to pay close attention."

Fatima rested her head against his chest while they watched the children sleep. The flames of the single candle reflected dancing shadows on the bedroom walls.

Fatima grinned. "I remember the night when you were brought here. All the Sanguis were angry that humans came to live here with us. We thought it were cruel to dangle them in front of us. But the next memory I have is when Apollo took his first step."

Nicholas let out a grunt. "Yeah, and Amaya was angry."

Fatima laughed. "She is a competitive one, isn't she? I think she spent the next three days trying to pull herself up, so she could take her first step."

"She hates being in her brother's shadow. I think she lives by the creed 'whatever he can do, I can do better.'"

Fatima sensed his emotional conflict growing stronger.

"Do you think I'm doing the right thing?" Nicholas glanced at her. "I mean turning them when they're eighteen?"

"Yes, without a doubt. You have the means to give them eternal life. That's a gift they will be proud to receive. Plus, you've already given your word to Max. You can't go back on your word."

"I know, but I want to do right by my children."

"If you kept them human, Nicholas, you'd probably hurt them. You know, Max wouldn't allow them to leave and risk our exposure."

Nicholas nodded.

"Let's make that moment special for them, something they'll look forward to in the future. We can call it a ceremony and allow the clan to witness the event," Fatima said.

Nicholas glanced at her. "But, I don't want them to know what they will become until I'm ready to tell them."

"Understood."

He leaned over and kissed Fatima's forehead. "You came to the house to find me. Was there something you needed?"

"Yes. Maximiliano asked me to bring you back to his lair."

"I guess he's back from his trip then." Nicholas sighed, "What is it now?"

Fatima shrugged, "It's best that we don't keep him waiting."

"Of course not."

Nicholas took one last look at the twins. Even though he did not fully understand Maximiliano's reasons for rescuing them, he was grateful to Max for letting his children remain in the home near the underground cavern. He was even more grateful that Max had cast protection over them from other vampires that roamed the area.

In thirteen years, his children would become vampires like him. They would be part of the Sanguis clan. As he closed his children's bedroom door, he thought of that bittersweet day.

Nicholas wrapped his long fingers around Fatima's narrow waist. Her long auburn hair flowed loosely down her back, draping over his arm. Side by side, they walked in silence through the front door and out through the forest to the large, thick bush that hid the cave opening.

The humid sulfuric air from the neighboring volcano hardly masked the smell of bat guano from the elevated pockets of bats. The echoing sounds followed them with each step they took as they descended further underground through the dark labyrinth tunnels. The bottom of the passageway led past the blood bank.

When Nicholas arrived at Maximiliano's steel door at the bottom of the stairs, he took a deep breath. He felt Fatima lean in and kiss his arm where she could easily reach before she left him to stand in front of the entrance alone.

A rancid half-human, half-vampire deformity opened the rasping steel door. Nicholas stepped inside with his bowed head. He stood in front of the raised platform where Max sat in a hand-carved Baroque-style throne. With his arms behind his back and his eyes diverted down, he waited for Maximiliano to address him.

"Nicholas." Max's deep voice echoed through his lair.

Nicholas raised his head and opened his eyes to meet his leader's stare. With his hands clasped behind his back, he remarked, "Sire, you sent for me?"

"How much time does it take the best research scientist in the field of hematology to make what I need? How long have you been working on this, for _five_ years?"

"I need more time." He quickly stepped back when his request had an immediate physical effect on Maximiliano.

Max's chest rose up and down with an enraged pant. He drew his eyebrows together in frustration, forming two deep lines at the bridge of his slightly crooked nose. In annoyance, his brown eyes clouded black while he peered at his subordinate. His pursed lips hid behind his coarse, yet manicured salt-and-pepper mustache and goatee. However, the hair on his face could not conceal his yellowed upper fangs that extended downward.

Maximiliano's translucent pale skin revealed thickening veins that streaked his face. Three deep, long scars were the focal point of his left cheek on an otherwise well-chiseled face. They were scars he had received hundreds of years prior when he had been human.

Maximiliano fought to control his furious demeanor by suppressing his vampiric facial traits—the dead giveaway of his irritation. He knew he had to change his approach with Nicholas to get his way without unnecessary bloodshed. He stood perfectly still, staring at Nicholas. Maximiliano changed his tone of voice from anger to a more calmed hum. When he spoke, his words were clear and precise.

"Nicholas, have you forgotten the importance of your project? We want to be prepared should our archenemy attack. We can't sit back and wait for them. We must be prepared. Find a way to enhance our abilities, and make us more extraordinary than what we already are. I'll give you what you need. Tell me, how can I help you be more efficient?"

"Give me time," Nicholas replied.

"How much time?"

"I'm not sure, but I can assure you that this is my priority. I'm missing one key ingredient—an ingredient I'm not familiar with," Nicholas explained. While he stood in front of Max, one thought raced through his mind repeatedly. _I'm not giving you anything until my children are safely turned._

Maximiliano clicked his fingernails together as he peered down the length of his nose at Nicholas. Then with one quick nod, he motioned for Nicholas to leave.

## -2-

13 years later

**Apollo keenly lifted** his bow and arrow and nuzzled it against his shoulder. His trained, stealth movements gave him the advantage against his prey—a herd of elk that stood several feet away. He inhaled through his nose and quietly exhaled through his mouth, remembering each step that Ori had taught him through the years.

Apollo's brown eyes were filled with extreme concentration. His red, tousled hair was wet from perspiration. There was one single drop of under-pressure sweat that ran from his freckled forehead to his red eyebrow. There it sat for a few seconds before it disappeared into the maze of his eyebrow hairs. He wore a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt with a black leather jacket. The weather was cold. Each time he exhaled, a visible stream of moisture floated into the evening air.

Ori squatted down next to Apollo with his forearms resting on his thighs. He watched Apollo's movements closely as he ran his hand through his blonde, spiked hair. His baby blue eyes concentrated with almost the same intensity as Apollo's. Although his features made him look the same age as Apollo, he was actually a two-hundred-year-old vampire. Ori considered Apollo like a brother—albeit a much younger brother.

During the last days of Ori's human life, he had planned to grow old with his new bride. However, on their wedding night, while he went outside to fetch some wood for the fireplace, he came face-to-face with a stray vampire. In an effort to protect his bride, Ori had fought his attacker. The vampire had mauled him, and then left him for dead—the living dead, to be exact.

Today, however, he was Apollo's mentor. He was like an older brother who had trained Apollo to be the best hunter he could be. Ori knew when the twins turned eighteen, they would become creatures of the night—a vampire like the rest of the Sanguis clan. He wanted to make sure that both Apollo and Amaya were prepared to take on their new lives as vampires.

Ori whispered, "You can do it, take your time, Polly. If he senses danger, he'll run. Everything depends on your ability to blend with the elements."

He had trained and watched Apollo target and kill elk since Apollo was eight years old, but this time, Apollo had raised the stakes. Two arrows hoisted onto one bow, each with a designated target area on one elk. Like a game of pool, he had called out where each arrow would land and on which elk he planned to bring down.

Apollo's eyes squinted to see through his longer-than-usual red bangs that lay across his eyes. The moon's glow shined down on the herd, making them easier to see in the dark. He focused on the moment. With his arm extended back, the bow pulled tight, and two arrows positioned just right, he elegantly released them, sending them both through the air, landing directly into the elk's neck and side. The herd fled in a frantic stampede when their fellow elk collapsed with a thud against the forest ground.

In his excitement, Apollo allowed the adrenaline to flow through his veins. "Yes! I got him. I nailed him with both arrows right where I said I would."

Ori threw his hand up in the air to high-five Apollo. "I told you that it wasn't hard. All you have to do is become one with the elements."

"I can't wait to show my father. He'll be proud of me, don't you think?"

"Of course, he'll be proud. But, why did you choose the smallest one?"

"He wasn't the smallest." Apollo pushed Ori.

"Hell yeah, he was. Look at him." Ori walked toward the dead animal and stopped a few feet away. "That's a calf if I ever saw one."

Apollo had his arms crossed over his chest, the bow in his hand, while he stared down at the calf. He drew his eyebrows together and pursed his freckled lips. "Well, I couldn't tell. I don't have night vision like you. I could barely see the damn thing in the moonlight."

Ori grinned. He picked up the 250-pound calf and threw it over his shoulder. "Excuses, excuses, little boy. We should have brought Amaya out here. She may have bagged herself a bigger kill."

"Shut up, Ori. No girl is going to do anything better than me," he said annoyed. "I hit that thing with two arrows at one time and sent them in different directions. Just wait till I'm as strong as you."

"Face it, Apollo, you'll never be as strong as me," Ori laughed. "But after your ceremony, we'll teach you the secrets of our skills." With his fingertips, Ori pushed Apollo to the ground. In a split second, he ran at the speed of light, leaving Apollo alone out in the back part of the forest.

Apollo shook his head as he stood and swiped at the muddy leaves that clung to his backside. He picked up the quiver that held his arrows and tossed it over his shoulder before he headed back toward the house.

Apollo stood upright. He felt pride in the achievement of his kill, and he was excited to share the news with his family. But, while he walked back through the forest toward their home, he tossed around two thoughts in his mind: the first was that he hoped to impress his father with his prize kill, and the second was that he would celebrate his eighteenth birthday in three days.

He knew that would be a monumental day for him and Amaya. They were finally going to have their long-awaited birthday ceremony. This was not going to be just any birthday ceremony. This was going to be their clan initiation ceremony to become Sanguis members. With such a membership, they would be able to attend meetings and work outside their home. At least, that's what he remembered his father telling him, years ago.

When Apollo finally made it back to the side door of the old, weathered house, Ori was sitting on the step of the porch, leaning up against the house, pretending to be snoring.

"Three more days, Ori, just three more days and I will learn how to outrun you." Apollo tossed a rock at him.

Ori's eyes remained closed. He continued to make a snoring sound, but he caught the rock in midair. "It's going to take more than your initiation to become one of us to make you as good as me, little boy."

Before Apollo could retaliate, Amaya swung open the screen door and hopped out onto the porch. She plopped down next to Ori. Her long brown hair hung down her back from the binding of her tight ponytail. The tip of her nose instantly turned red from the cold weather that nipped at her fair skin. Her blue eyes were large and glossy when she glanced at her brother's sulking face. "Nice baby elk you caught there, Polly," she laughed when he shot her a frustrated glare.

Apollo tossed his archery equipment down at her feet. "If you can put an arrow through anything that moves, I'll clean your room for a week."

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely."

"And all I have to do is put this pointy thing right here into anything that crawls, runs or flies, and you'll be my personal servant for a week?"

Apollo grunted, "I'm so certain you can't do it, let's make it two weeks."

"Polly, you have no idea how lethal I am with this thing."

"Yeah, right, you've never even touched it before."

"Are you sure about that?" she grinned.

Ori laughed at the twin's banter. He felt the pent-up anticipation of how this competition would play out—who was going to be whose servant for a week.

"Stop laughing, Ori," Apollo demanded, annoyed.

Ori threw his hands in the air as if to call a truce. "Listen Amaya, if you think you're so much better than your brother then prove it. Otherwise, you're wasting our time."

"Yeah, prove it to me, Amaya."

Amaya laughed at the two of them daring her to prove her hunting skills. She loved to hunt. Many times when her brother was asleep, she would take his bow and one arrow, and practice on inanimate objects. Apollo knew she could hunt; he just refused to admit that a girl might be better than him.

"See? She's all talk, no action." Apollo reached for his weapon, anxious to take it back from his sister.

"Back up, Polly, I don't want you to be the one thing that I stick with the point of my arrow," she chuckled as she brought the bow up to her petite shoulder and aimed at a tree. "By the way, the bending portion of the bow is a limb, the part I'm holding right here is a handle or grip." She giggled as she continued to name off parts of the weapon while she aimed at nothing—at least nothing that Apollo could see.

Her breathing was perfect, her form textbook, and her stance flawless. Her motions were fluid; her sight was set on something specific.

Ori stood, watching her hold the weapon as if it was an extension of her body. In awe, he walked over and stood next to Apollo. He examined Amaya's form closely. Ori placed his hand on Apollo's shoulder. "She's got it. She's a natural hunter. Look at her, Polly."

Apollo crossed his arms over his chest and snickered to himself. "The only thing she's going to hit with that arrow—"

"Quiet, let the girl concentrate," Ori whispered.

Amaya was in a trance, the same type of trance she would put herself in when she practiced. She forgot that anyone was around. Her focus was precisely on the target. She pulled the arrow back further, adjusting for its flight through the air, the speed at which she needed it to go, and the wind factor. She released the arrow.

It flew straight through the air with powerful purpose. When the arrow connected with a tree, Ori ran to Amaya and hugged her. He picked her up and spun her around. "You did it, Maya. You got it."

"She got what, the tree? That's the only thing she connected with." Apollo sulked, refusing to look at exactly where the arrow landed.

"Look closer, Polly," Ori laughed.

The three of them walked to the tree, and sure enough, the arrow had pierced the heart of a red-breasted nuthatch.

"Luck, Amaya, that was pure luck," Apollo grumbled, snatching his equipment from her hand.

"Luck or not, you're my servant for the next two weeks," Amaya gloated.

Apollo turned on his heels. He was taking long strides toward the house when Amaya ran and jumped on her brother's back. She wanted to lighten his mood. She was two inches shorter than he was and petite compared to his larger build. He kept walking, ignoring her as if she were not draping herself on his back. "I'll race you back to the house," she whispered in his ear.

Apollo enjoyed any significant challenge, and Amaya was always the person that seemed to challenge him. He tossed his archery equipment to Ori and unhooked her arms from around his neck. He was ready for the challenge. "Okay, Ori, you tell us when to go."

Ori stood in front of them, put his arms up in the air, and whispered toward Apollo, "You better win this one." Then he swung his arms down, "Go!"

Apollo toyed with Amaya and then left her far behind him to eat the dust he kicked up. Right before she made it to the finish line, she fell, sliding across the dirt on her knees. She stood up and limped toward the porch. When her brother ran to her side to make sure she was okay, she slapped him on the arm. "You didn't have to beat me that badly."

Apollo reached over and gave his sister a strong hug. As he glanced down at her scraped knee, there was no sign of blood.

"What's going on out here?" Nicholas asked from inside the house, behind the screen door.

"Father." The twins ran to Nicholas and gave him a hug.

"Father, I killed an elk today. I used two arrows on my bow. Both arrows hit the animal and brought it down."

Nicholas was an authoritarian—a man of few words. He rarely praised the twins on their accomplishments. Even knowing how he was, they still yearned for his recognition. Apollo began to relate his proud moment.

"Come, I'll show you where it happened."

"I can't right now. I'm only here for a few minutes to visit you two."

"Can you stay and eat with us tonight, just this once?" Apollo asked.

"Not tonight. This night is no different from any other time. In a few days, all of that will change."

Nicholas brushed off the conversation as he usually did when it came to what they ate—or drank for that matter. He kept the twins sheltered from much of what the Sanguis were. Apollo and Amaya knew the Sanguis were stronger, faster people. They found the clan's extraordinary abilities attractive and exciting, but they did not know what they would become in three days.

Fatima stood at the side door and called the twins in for dinner from behind the closed screen. They moved quickly into the warm house, where Fatima had cooked a large pot of rice and beans over a wood-burning stove. Ori sat at the square, light oak table with the twins. An extremely thick, beige candle sat in the middle of the table, which provided enough light so that everyone could enjoy the kitchen. They talked about both Apollo and Amaya's kill.

"You two know that this is your last meal before your three-day fast?" Fatima asked.

"No food for three days? That seems barbaric to me. I'm hungry every hour, and now I can't eat for three days?" Apollo mumbled.

"Father said it was part of our initiation ritual to become Sanguis," Amaya reminded her brother.

"I know." He shoveled a combination of rice and beans into his mouth. "I'm just messing around."

"Children, I have to go back to my lab." Nicholas hugged both his kids. "I'll come back in two hours to say goodnight to you both."

Once Nicholas had left the room, Ori looked at the twins. "I'm going, too. I need to find Tereq, so we can hunt."

"Can I go with you?" Apollo asked.

"Sorry, buddy, we're not hunting elk tonight. This time, we're hunting tourists." Without thinking twice, Ori left the room before anyone could comment.

Fatima rolled her eyes at Ori in disbelief at how careless he was about the intent of their hunting expedition.

Apollo shrugged. "Whatever that means."

Fatima glanced at the twins from the kitchen sink where she finished washing the cooking utensils. "No food for the next three days. You can have water, but that's it. And you might want to save your energy for the initiation ritual," Fatima said as she put away the clean dishes. "Also, don't forget that Ms. Beasley said she will leave your final exam scores in an envelope at the front door tomorrow morning."

"I'm so happy that dreaded tutoring is over," Amaya sighed.

"Are we going to celebrate in the morning when we find out that we passed? Or do we have to wait until you get home from work?" Apollo asked.

It surprised Fatima that the small group of vampires that Apollo and Amaya interacted with, on a regular basis, was able to keep the lie of their whereabouts from the twins all these years. While they thought that their family was out working during the day, they were sleeping, hidden in the caverns below.

Nicholas had hired Ms. Beasley to look after his children while he slept during the day. She arrived at sunrise and Nicholas instructed her to leave just before sundown.

Although Ms. Beasley did not understand the popular modern mentality of having kids raised by a babysitter, she appreciated the work and the paycheck. It was because of that appreciation that she never asked questions.

"We'll be here to congratulate you when we get home from work," Fatima mentioned as she hugged the kids and excused herself from the room.

Apollo stood up from the table. "Okay, I want you to show me how in the heck you pinned a bird to a tree from such a distance away. Because, there is no way my sister is going to be better than me at hunting."

"Too late." She hit Apollo in the face with a cloth that was on the table near her. She got up and ran from the table as Apollo chased her outside.

"That was just a lucky shot!" Apollo yelled.

## -3-

**Later that evening,** Nicholas found his children in Apollo's candlelit room. A cluster of five large pillar candles sat together on his desk, dripping wax down the side. Amaya stood next to his bed near the bedroom door, wielding a homemade wooden sword in the air against an imaginary opponent. Apollo was lying on his stomach on the hardwood floor next to his desk, with a candle on the ground in front of his paper. He was using charcoal to sketch a drawing in a sketchpad that Ms. Beasley had given to him.

"It's time for sleep. You must be well-rested for the grueling days ahead," Nicholas said firmly. He walked over and took the sword from Amaya. "Now get some sleep; you have a long day tomorrow."

Amaya hugged her father and said good night before she left to her room. She heard her father's footsteps fade as he walked toward the staircase that led to the downstairs foyer and front door.

Amaya lay in her bed, but she could not sleep. She felt tired, but her mind replayed the highlight of her day—her proud kill. All she could think of was the adrenaline rush when she saw that bird pinned to the tree. And, of course, that she'd beat her brother in the bet.

After tossing and turning for a while, she decided to spend her time perfecting her skills. She knew how protective he was with his archery equipment, but that did not keep her from wanting to use it—even without his permission.

Amaya jumped out of bed and headed toward his room. She opened his door and tiptoed inside. She approached him cautiously and peeked at him to see that he was asleep. Suddenly, Apollo shifted his sleeping position and turned his back to her. She held her breath and froze. She was determined to get what she came for.

She lifted his bow from the bed's corner post near his head where he always kept it. She also slid two arrows from the quiver that tilted against Apollo's twin bed. Then, she quietly slipped out his bedroom door, feeling relief that she did not wake him.

Amaya sprinted down the stairs to the front door. She reached into a drawer of a desk near the entrance, grabbed matches and the oil lamp that sat on top of the desk. She lit the lamp before she opened the front door. She stepped out into the beautiful, cold night and closed the door behind her. Once outside, she pulled her trench coat tighter around her and shivered in the frigid air.

She needed to find a location where the trees were sparse, and the bright moon could provide enough light for her to see comfortably. After she navigated through the forest for a while, she realized that she had wandered further than she should have. But, in her search, she found a mountainside area that caught her eye as the perfect location to practice.

An oak tree nestled behind a mound of thick bushes became her target. She aimed and shot, hitting the tree trunk slightly to the left.

Amaya grabbed the other arrow. She pulled it back on the bow and aimed, concentrating a bit harder on hitting the same tree in the middle of its trunk. This time, when she released the arrow, a slight breeze grabbed hold of it, and pushed it where it fell somewhere past the tree on the ground.

"Oh shoot, really?" she whispered. "Apollo will kill me if I lose one of his damn arrows."

Amaya sighed. She grabbed her oil lamp and walked toward the tree with one thought on her mind: to recover the arrow. The closer she got to the tree, the rockier the ground became, and before she knew it, she was standing in front of a large hedge. The shrubbery was thick. Amaya lowered and raised her lamp to see inside of the massive rock formation and shrubbery, but saw no arrow. She moved branches aside as she was desperate to find her brother's arrow, but it was impossible to see into the shrubbery, even with the lamp. Amaya kneeled down and slipped her open hand under the thicket. She anxiously patted the ground. Instead of finding the arrow, she found a clear, yet strange, open space. Amaya pulled her hand out and contemplated the next logical spot the arrow could have gone.

Amaya's adventurous attitude could not resist the temptation of crawling through the open space. She reached back under and lifted her hand to try to pull the branches apart. She pulled open just enough branches to slide in and crawl through to the other side of the shrubbery. Amaya poked her head out to take a glance at her surroundings.

When she felt it was safe, she stood. The ground was rocky and uneven. Large boulders lined the area along the open space. Someone had pushed the boulders neatly away from what seemed like a pathway entrance on the side of the mountain.

The discovery of that place left an eerie feeling in the pit of her stomach. I need to find that darn arrow and get outta here. She raised and lowered her lamp to get a clearer look, but it was hopeless.

Suddenly, she heard a loud thud that came from the opening in the side of the mountain. She quickly peered in that direction and reconsidered whether or not it was a good idea to have come so far. She pulled her coat tighter around her, and continued her exploration in the direction of the entrance, despite her initial thought to flee.

Amaya scanned the interior as far as her lamp would allow her to see without having to step inside. Her heart pounded rapidly against her chest as her mind raced with uncertainty. Should she go in or get out of there? She was conflicted yet inquisitive.

Finally, her curiosity won over her indecision. She had forgotten about her brother's arrows. She stepped inside the opening and slowly tried to navigate over the rocky ground. The opening of the cave was tubular, deep, and large. A glowing fungus covered the cave walls. A dripping noise echoed through the cave, which had a smell of stale water.

She realized that someone must be inside. Someone had to have been through there for it to look the way it did. She crept further into the cave toward the flickering of a candle that illuminated the jagged stony walls. She was careful not to step between unstable rocks. Candles on the wall? _There is something in this place._ Her mind raced.

The further into the cave she went, the more the tubular entrance began to widen. She glanced to her right where she noticed another entrance to a black tunnel. Her fear was not enough to make her turn back. She swallowed against the fear that was rising in her throat and continued toward the flickering light. Her breathing was deep and slow, and her shaky hand wrapped tightly around the lamp's handle. Amaya could hear the pounding of her heart in her own ears.

With her next step, she noticed a smoother surface under her feet. The rock was less stringent, yet the cave walls were still rough and uneven. The cave curved to her left. When she looked back at the cave opening, she realized that she was losing sight of the entrance. Amaya paused for a moment and glanced around her immediate surroundings.

Suddenly, without a hint, a shadow of what appeared to be a tall, human-shaped body glided across the wall. A yelp left her lips as she turned and ran back toward the cave opening. Her feet fumbled on the uneven ground. Fear raced through her mind. She felt the hairs rise on her arms at the thought that something was following close behind her. She wanted to scream.

Finally, she ran out into the crisp air and straight toward the bushes where she had come through. She let go of the lamp and slid her body under the shrubbery as fast as she could. A branch caught her jacket by the sleeve. She yanked and tugged until she eventually gave up and slid her arms out of her jacket. She left the lamp behind, along with her brother's bow and arrow. She stumbled to her feet and took off empty-handed in flight toward the house.

Amaya threw open the front door and rushed up the stairs toward her brother's room. Breathless and full of fear, she woke Apollo to tell him about the hidden cave.

## -4-

" **Apollo, wake up."** Amaya shook her twin brother. She pulled his pillow out from under his head and tossed it to the floor. "Apollo, please get up!"

"What? What?" he yelled, pulling the brown wool blanket over his head. "What are you doing in my room?"

"Get up. You have to see this. Something is wrong."

"I don't have to _see_ anything. Can't a guy get some rest around here?"

"C'mon, Apollo, please? It's important," she begged. "There's something outside that you have to see."

"Amaya, I'm sleepy, and you're begging me to follow you on one of your childish adventures again. Leave me alone."

"Polly, this isn't an adventure. You have to see this, damn it. Listen to me!" she yelled.

Apollo lifted his head and looked at his sister's anguished face. He heard a different tone in her voice, one he was not used to hearing from her. She was frantic. He knew something had disturbed her.

"What's wrong? What is it?" he sat up quickly, taking one of her hands in his, and wrapping his other hand around her arm. He could feel her body trembling.

"Something's wrong, Polly, something awful," she blurted. Her sea-blue eyes stared at him behind a pool of tears that threatened to stream down her pale face.

"Slow down and tell me from the beginning."

"Okay . . . Okay . . . I couldn't sleep, so I went outside. There was a cave behind some bushes, and there was something in there."

"A cave?"

"Polly, I'll show you. Please come with me." She threw her hands on his shoulders gripping her nails into his skin. "Maybe it was a. . . Yeah, that's what it was, Polly. I think I saw a Sombra. I saw the shadow of a Sombra."

Apollo pried her fingers from his shoulders and took her hands into his again, "Breathe, Maya." He took deep breaths, trying to get her to follow suit. He needed her to calm down before he could understand what she was trying to tell him.

"Remember the stories that Tereq told us of the Sombras?" she asked.

"Tereq was being a jerk. They were only stories to scare us away from the mountain. Trust me, there is no such thing. Don't you think Father would have told us if something like that existed?"

Amaya nodded. She tried to keep her bottom lip from trembling. She inhaled deep before she leaned in and hugged her brother. She always felt a sense of comfort in her brother's arms. Maybe it was a twin thing, or maybe it was because they had only spent time with each other growing up. But one thing was for sure, he was more than her brother: he was also her best friend.

Apollo held her in his arms and waited patiently for her to calm down.

"Let me get dressed and then you can show me." He walked across the cold hardwood floor in his bare feet. The creaking sound echoed in his room when the weight of his footsteps pressed down on the old, dull floorboards.

Apollo opened his closet drape and pulled out a pair of tattered jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt. He glanced over at his sister, "It'll be okay, Amaya, we'll get to the bottom of this."

Amaya nodded, wiping at the tears that were rolling down her face. She took a deep breath and mentally told herself to toughen up. She wanted to be the warrior that Ori had taught her to be.

When Apollo was ready to go, Amaya led him down the squeaky, narrow staircase and onto the battered foyer just before the front door.

She led Apollo outside into the night. Amaya followed the same route she had taken an hour prior. As she got closer to the area, she had found earlier, her pace slowed down.

"Amaya, where are we going?"

"Through those bushes." Amaya pointed to an area with bushes clustered together, just beyond the oak tree.

"How did you find this place? What were you doing here?"

"I was practicing with _your_ bow until one of the arrows got lost in those bushes. I went in to get it."

"What?" Apollo yelled, "Did you take my bow? Where is it?"

"I'm sorry. I was going to bring it back."

Apollo moved some leaves aside from the bush. "Look, I see your jacket." Apollo pulled her jacket out. "There they are. I found my bow and one arrow." Apollo was relieved to have found his archery equipment.

He was almost as happy as the day he'd first discovered the weapon in their weathered house. The curious eight-year-old had found the hidden trove underneath a squeaky floorboard in his bedroom. It was an exciting find that had included someone's journal, metal arrowheads and anatomy sketches.

Apollo kept everything a secret, except for the archery equipment. His father had allowed him to keep it with the condition that he would accept Ori's instruction. Over nine years of ownership, he'd never lost an arrow—until now. Thanks to Amaya.

"Maybe this is a bad idea. Let's come back in the morning." Amaya trembled.

"You dragged me out here into this freezing weather, because _you_ were scared. We're not leaving."

"This is a bad idea. I'm going back." She turned to leave.

"Amaya!"

She stopped with her back to him.

"Let's just check this out, okay?"

Amaya lifted her head. Her curiosity vacillated with her fear. Against her better judgment, she nodded and walked close behind him.

Apollo positioned his bow and arrow up to his shoulder, ready to shoot whatever moved in the shrubbery.

Amaya pulled open the leaf-covered branches, and Apollo got down on his knees to maneuver under the bush. He turned around, and helped Amaya stand up in the open space.

"You came in here tonight by yourself?" Apollo scornfully questioned.

"I didn't know this was going to be here. I was trying to get the arrow," she whispered.

"At least you brought a lamp with you. This is yours, right?" Apollo picked up the dimmed oil lamp that sat upright on the ground.

Amaya took the lamp from him.

The opening to the cave was dark—so dark, they could not see in front of them. Amaya held up the lamp in an attempt to see further down. Deep into the mouth of the cave was the same flickering light that Amaya had seen earlier, with its eerie glimmers of shadows dancing on the stone walls.

They were both breathing hard, completely on edge with fear, but their curiosity was what kept them both moving forward. With one foot in front of the next, they were careful not to make a noise.

Apollo lifted the bow to his shoulder again while Amaya gripped his t-shirt. Their ankles were shaky as each step they took landed on an uneven surface. Apollo slid his shoulder along the cave wall to support himself in case he lost his balance.

They were now as far into the cave as Amaya was before she had run out. The smell was rancid. The echoing of dripping water surrounded them. The air was thick and made it hard to breathe.

Amaya yanked at Apollo's shirt. When he turned to look at her, she pointed toward the right. Another opening had a candelabra firmly mounted to a smoother surface on the wall. Apollo swallowed loudly. He led Amaya in that direction, holding the bow white-knuckle tight.

When the light from the lamp caught a rodent running across the floor, Amaya yelped and jumped, making Apollo jump. He released the arrow into the spine of the rodent. The small creature instantly died.

"Don't do that," he whispered angrily.

"I didn't mean to, it came out of nowhere and scared me."

"We have one arrow with us, and we don't need it stuck in the back of a vermin." He stepped down on the small animal and yanked the arrow from its body.

They continued to move deeper into the cavity of the mountain. Within one step, Apollo's foot felt the ground change from unstable to a smoother surface. He placed his back along the wall while Amaya gripped his bicep tightly.

"Hold the lamp down. I want to see what we're stepping on."

Amaya flashed the light down toward the ground. The stone was hand carved to create steps that plunged them further into the hollow.

"Someone carved out steps from the rock. Look at them, they're meant to be steps that will take us further down." He pointed. "Flash the light down there, so we can see."

"We can't see anything. This light isn't bright enough, and the candles aren't giving off enough light."

"Amaya, look," Apollo moved his back away from the wall. "It's smoother here, too. My back was just against sharp rocks, but the texture has changed."

"I can see it. So, something _is_ living down here."

"Let's keep going." When Apollo glanced down to the fourth step, he flung the palm of his hand up to stop Amaya. He squatted down and ran his fingers over a liquid substance that had formed a puddle on the carved stair.

Apollo lifted the sticky substance to his nose and smelled the tang of blood. He stared at the brownish-red liquid that shimmered under the light. The wet blood began to dry fast on his fingertips. He swiped his hand along the ground to remove the blood from his fingers.

He slowly stood, lifted his bow and arrow again and held it in front of him. "You were right," he mumbled, barely letting the sound leave his lips. "Maybe there is a Sombra down here."

"I knew it! We should get Ori or Father. If something happens to us, no one will know we're down here." Amaya moved closer to her brother. She wrapped both hands around his arm to keep him close.

Apollo glanced at her. He contemplated her suggestion. He stared into her eyes and knew she was right, they should get someone, but what kind of hunter would he be if he ran for help? "You go back. I'll check it out."

"No, I'm not leaving you down here by yourself."

"Okay, but at the first sign of danger, we get the hell out of here. Deal?"

Amaya nodded against her better judgment. She was not sure what they would find below ground in a cave that had several mounted candelabra holders along the walls. Whatever it was, this was its home, and they were intruding.

Apollo continued down the steps one at a time. His heart was racing with adrenaline. At the bottom of the stairs, he noticed a door—a metal door welded to the sides of a carved-out doorframe. Where the doorknob should have been, there was a one-inch circular glow.

Apollo leaned down and put his eye to the hole. He sucked in his breath, reached for Amaya's hand as he gazed through to the other side of the door. After several seconds, he stood up quickly, pressing his back against the wall next to the door.

"What?" she silently mouthed.

Apollo was shaking his head, his eyes were wide, and he tried to breathe quietly. His chest was heaving up and down with the air he was trying to pull into his lungs.

Amaya moved to peer in the hole in the door, but Apollo held her arm to stop her. She yanked her arm from his grip and bent over to look through the hole. She could feel the screams wanting to escape from her lips, but her hand covered her mouth and muffled her cries.

On the other side of the door was a candlelit room. There were naked people chained to the walls, and creatures latched to their necks. Some people appeared semiconscious and had two creatures latched to them—one to their neck and another to a leg or arm.

The room reeked of blood, vomit and feces. No one was screaming. Their moans seemed weak and feeble. Most of the people seemed to be barely holding on to life. They were thin and drained of their essence. To the far right, Amaya could see a man and woman with more spunk. The creatures had their hands over the man and woman's mouths while they latched themselves onto the humans' necks. The look in their eyes horrified Amaya.

In the center of the room, two beastly looking creatures played tug-of-war with a little girl. One had a grip on her arm and the other had gripped her leg. She was dead, but that did not matter when Amaya saw them rip her apart with ease.

Tears streamed down Amaya's face as she witnessed the girl's innards slap against the ground. She could not breathe, she could not catch her breath against the horror she was witnessing. When she had raised her eyes to the far right along the wall, before she pulled herself away from the hole, she saw something that made her fall to her knees on the rock floor. She looked over at Apollo, whose face was wet with tears, and out of nowhere, she leaned to her right and began to vomit.

Apollo grabbed his sister and helped her to her feet. He feared the sound of her puking would draw attention to them at the door. To their right and left were tunnels. Apollo did not want to take a chance; he decided they would go back the same way they came.

He helped Amaya quickly make her way up the stairs and outside the cave. They ran past the clearing, under the bushes and outside to the open forest. They ran far enough away from the cave when Apollo found a massive tree trunk. He pressed his back against it. Amaya was right behind him.

## -5-

**Apollo slid down** the tree trunk onto his butt and buried his face into his hands. Amaya knelt down in the dirt next to Apollo and wiped the tears that streamed down her face. They trembled out of horror, fear, and disgust. It took several minutes for both of them to catch their breath before they said anything to one another.

"Did you see him?" Amaya asked.

Apollo nodded but still could not speak.

"Father was eating those people!" Amaya exclaimed.

"No, no, no. . . There's an explanation for this. There has to be." Apollo stood and paced, running his hands through his red hair. "Why? Why would he be there?"

"Maybe he was helping those people." Amaya stood up and went to her brother to give him a hug.

He pushed her away while his mind tried to process everything that had just happened. "Maybe that's his lab. Could that be Father's lab? Maybe he was helping them with a blood disease or something."

"Right, that has to be it. Those people were diseased, and father was trying to help them. But. . ."

"But what?" Apollo shot at her.

"What about the little girl?"

"The one that was lying on the ground in the center of the room?"

"I saw her torn apart by some ugly-looking things." Amaya cupped her hand back over her mouth.

"The only way we're going to get to the bottom of this is to ask Father." Apollo grabbed Amaya's hand and started toward the house.

A gust of wind stopped them both in their tracks. One second they were alone in the forest, and the next, Tereq was standing in front of them. His arms crossed over his chest, his dark brown, short hair was ruffled, and his thick eyebrows formed a V at the bridge of his nose. "Where are you two going?" Tereq asked.

"Don't do that, Tereq. You scared us," Apollo said gruffly.

"Why are you two out here?"

"Amaya found a cave, and we were exploring."

Tereq moved closer to them, his black trench coat flapped in the wind caused by his quick movements. He pressed his hand against Apollo's chest to stop him. "What did you see?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know," Apollo remarked, pushing Tereq's hand away from him.

Tereq pushed his palm against Apollo's chest. The strength within that light push sent Apollo flying backward through the air onto his back.

"Tereq, what are you doing?" Amaya yelled.

"I want to know what you two saw in the cave."

"We saw diseased people chained to walls, and Father was there trying to help them," Amaya said.

"Yes, of course that's what you two would have seen. You are fucking naïve, children! Open your eyes to what is around you. Do you think it's normal that you're stuck in the woods, in a house where there are no other kids like you?"

Apollo and Amaya stared at Tereq, listening to his disturbing and shocking words. "We asked Father about that years ago, and he told us that it was to protect us," Apollo mumbled.

"Protect you from what? You believe everything your father tells you, and we cater to your pansy, human asses, pretending to be something we're not. You should know what we really are."

"Really are?" Amaya asked.

Tereq shook his head and started to pace. His youthful-looking face showed signs of disgust. "You're telling me that you two haven't put anything together yet? Where's everyone during the day?"

"My father's at work. What he does is important." Amaya stepped closer to Apollo.

"His work is important to Max and Max alone."

"I've heard enough." Apollo grabbed Amaya's hand and started to walk around Tereq again.

Tereq's posture changed. His shoulders rounded, his eyes changed from brown to solid black, fangs extended from his mouth, and his eyebrows formed an extended ridge across his forehead. His fingers grew longer; his nails were black and sharp.

Amaya jumped toward Apollo's arms while Apollo stepped back, tripping over Amaya and sending them both to the ground.

Apollo quickly stood, pulling Amaya up with him. "What in the hell are you?"

Tereq's voice was deeper, and it grumbled when he spoke, "Finally, I no longer have to walk around here on pins and needles because the pathetic humans can't know what we are. We, Sanguis, are all vampires."

Tereq circled around the twins as he glared at them with his beady eyes and distorted features.

"Bullshit!" Apollo yelled.

"In a couple days, you'll be one of us, too," he growled.

"My father won't allow you to turn us into one of you," Apollo said fiercely.

"TEREQ!" a bellowing voice echoed through the forest on the other side of the tree. Nicholas came out from the shadows and stood between them.

"Switch back, now!" Nicholas commanded.

"I've concealed who I am for eighteen years. This is my home, Nicholas. It's been my home long before it was _yours_. How long can one stand to be what they're not?" Tereq stepped back, ready to defend himself.

"You have broken the agreement that I have with Maximiliano. You and the others are bound by that agreement."

"An agreement that means nothing to me. _Max_ is the one building the army; _Max_ is the one who wants to have super strength," he growled through his fangs as he paced back and forth. "All I want is to be _me_ in my own home."

"You have the caverns to be yourself. You were specifically told not to turn in front of my children."

"You should be thanking me. I did you a favor. Now they know what you've destined _them_ to become."

"Max will arrive tomorrow night. He'll be informed that you have disobeyed his order," Nicholas growled back, trying to stay in human form.

Tereq released his vampire appearance and turned back into his human, physical guise. "You tell him, and he'll kill me."

"So be it."

"No, Father. . ." Amaya ran to her father's side. She was terrified from the events she had witnessed and yet she was still able to feel sympathy after hearing Tereq's plea. "We're fine. No one has to get hurt."

Nicholas looked into his daughter's deep-blue eyes. Just for a moment, he was able to bask in her goodness before he focused his glare back at Tereq. "Get the fuck out of here. If you ever get in my way again, you won't be so lucky."

Tereq nodded toward Amaya before he jumped up into the trees and flew across them. He left without saying another word.

Nicholas looked over at his son and reached his hand out to him. "Come here, Son. I think we need to talk."

"Are you one of them?" Apollo questioned.

Nicholas nodded.

"Then you can talk to me from there."

"Apollo, this is Father," Amaya pleaded.

Apollo leaned down and picked up the bow and arrow on the ground. He then crossed his arms over his chest and stared at his father. "Is that our fate in three days?"

"Yes," Nicholas said sternly.

"You've decided to turn us into creatures without even consulting with us?"

"Your future was determined the day you were born."

"The same day you were attacked by wild animals?" Apollo asked sarcastically.

Nicholas did not respond. He stared intently at his son. He knew that he was now putting everything together from his past.

"But it wasn't wild animals, Father. It was a pack of vampires, was it not? Was it Max and Vasco?"

Nicholas could feel his blood boil with rage. His son was being disrespectful. He realized that this moment was long overdue. He needed to reveal the truth, the truth about who he was and what they were to become. Nicholas took a step toward Apollo to close the gap between the three of them.

Apollo lifted his bow and arrow, pulling the arrow back taught, aiming it at his father's heart. "Close enough."

"Put the arrow down, Apollo!" Amaya screamed.

"I want my questions answered first, please." Apollo shook his head, frustrated with himself for pleading with his father. He deserved these answers and he wanted them without getting emotional.

"It was a clan of vampires that passed through this area that attacked your mother and me. Your mum was eight months pregnant with you and Amaya."

"How did you end up here, then?"

"I was at the hospital with you both in my arms. Max knew there had been an attack. He did not want to draw attention to their existence with the locals. Remaining clandestine is important to a vampire's survival. Max heard the commotion at the hospital, and when he saw the police surround me in the middle of the street, helpless, he swooped down, grabbed us, and brought us here."

Apollo lowered his weapon. He glared at his father while he set up his next question. "Why did you destine us to become one of those _things_?"

"Apollo, I brought human babies with me back to a lair of vampires. I had to negotiate terms with the clan in an attempt to spare both your lives." Nicholas glanced over at Amaya and then back at his son.

"And your negotiations included keeping us human until we were eighteen and then turning us into vampires, right?" Apollo demanded.

"Yes, that is correct."

"What did Maximiliano get?" Apollo snidely asked.

"I agreed to continue research on a serum he feels he needs. He already had a lab. Apparently, it is something he had been working on for centuries with the help of other scientists and doctors, but to no avail."

Apollo snickered. He paced from side to side while he kept his eyes on his father. After mere seconds, he looked at his sister. "Amaya, come with me."

"No! I want to stay with Papa," she hissed.

Nicholas leaned in and hugged his daughter. "Amaya, go with your brother. We need to make him feel comfortable with all of this."

Amaya hesitated, looking up at her father. She did not care what he was, she knew him as her father and that was all that mattered to her. To please him, she gave him a hug and walked toward her twin brother.

"Do you love us, Papa?" Apollo asked.

Nicholas stood shocked. He had not heard his son call him Papa since he was a young boy. The moment was bittersweet. "More than anything, Son."

"Yet, you sold us into an eternal life of slavery and bondage."

"It's not like that, Apollo. I had just lost your mother. My human life was gone, and you both were innocent babies. I was doing what I could do in order to keep you alive."

"Only to kill us eighteen years later?"

"No, on the contrary, I'm giving you eternal life."

"That is not life, Father! It's death." Apollo's emotions of anger, fear, and shock struggled for a release. Tears welled up in his eyes. He did not understand how someone who claimed to love him could do this to him.

"What should I have done? Tell me."

"I don't know, left us at the hospital? Give us to someone? I don't know, but _we_ don't want to become what you are."

Amaya stepped away from her brother. Her hands clasped in front of her, and her heart pounding out of control.

"Amaya? What are you doing? Don't tell me that you want to become a vampire."

"I don't know, Apollo, but I don't want you to make my decisions for me, either."

Apollo nodded his head, dropped the bow and arrow to his side and looked at his sister, disappointed. "They're dead, Maya. They are dead! Do you hear me?" he shouted.

"How do you know they're dead? Father is not dead, Apollo, he is very much alive. So, how do you know so much about them?"

"Books; I found sketches and books about vampires in the same place I found this." He lifted the archery equipment. "The person who lived here knew a lot, he even wrote in a journal, Maya. You don't want to know what they are capable of."

"Son . . ."

Apollo lifted his hand with the bow and arrow and pointed at his father. "Stay away from me. You sold my soul without my consent." Apollo dropped his arm and tilted his head, looking at his father's disappointed face. Apollo's questions had been answered, but he still felt betrayed. He felt a sense of betrayal by the entire clan of vampires he knew as his family.

"Why, Father, why?" One by one, hurtful tears rolled down his face. He looked from Nicholas to Amaya. The pain on his face was unbearable for Amaya to see. She went to hug him, but he sidestepped her embrace and ran off into the forest toward the house.

"Father?" Amaya pleaded.

"Just let him go. He needs time to blow off some steam, but don't worry, he'll come around. He'll realize that I did this out of love."

## -6-

**Apollo's mind raced** with thoughts of his father, sister, and the confrontation between the three of them. His mind moved with the same speed that he used to run through the dense forest. When his legs were heavy, and his mind numb, he slowed down to a brisk jog until he found a massive rock to rest upon.

With his breathing labored and his heart beating like a paddle ball, Apollo knelt in front of the rock, rested his head on his arms, and sobbed. He sobbed from deep within. He felt betrayed, he felt alone. Even Amaya had let him stand alone on the ledge of self-preservation. At that moment, he felt nothing but abandoned.

Once his tears had washed away the initial shock of his firm stance, he sat down on the edge of the boulder. He wondered where he was in the forest. He had never ventured out alone, and never this far.

_Where am I?_ He thought. _Where do I go from here?_

Apollo closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly. He tried to steady his pulse, and level out his adrenaline. He needed to make sense of the mess that his life had become.

His training with Ori had given him skills he'd never realized he would use. But today, he needed everything he knew to stay alive and keep moving forward. He had to get out from the grips of his father—and his father's agreement with Max. After all, didn't he have the right to choose his own fate?

When the pounding of his heart settled, and his breathing slowed, Apollo thought of one thing and one thing only: his sister. He had left her there alone. He'd run away, acting without thinking, acting out of anger and frustration, fear and disgust.

His heart ached at the thought that he'd let her down so easily. He had been a coward when he should have been brave; he had showed weakness when he should have been strong; he had left when he should have stayed.

Could he go back? Could he turn around and right the wrong he had done to her? Did he _want_ to go back? Apollo allowed thoughts to pervade his common sense. He needed to clear his mind of the chaos in order to see the entire picture and to make the right decision.

He was determined to put an end to his grief, so he turned to the one person he could talk to—the one person who heard his every indecision, every uncertainty, and every concern he ever had—his mum.

Although he had never met her when she was alive, he took comfort in knowing that she would appear to him when he called to her. She would help when he needed her.

He had instinctively known of her presence since he was a boy. He did not find it strange that she would appear to him. Fatima chuckled whenever he told her that his mummy came to play. What Fatima did not realize was that little Polly was being serious.

As Apollo grew, he did not grow out of his private conversations with his mother—he just hid them better. It was not because he feared ridicule or wondered if others would consider him crazy; his time with his mother was precious. He guarded the precious gift like a pearl of great price—a gift he kept from everyone, even Amaya.

During his teenage years, he often thought she was a figment of his imagination. All the same, he did not waste time doubting himself—or her—for fear he would lose her if he did. She was his mother and, many times, his voice of reason.

His body temperature was returning to normal, making the frigid air of Stockwood, Washington, intolerable to his exposed skin. The howling wind echoed through the rattling trees, sending a shiver down his spine. He tried to see past the darkness, but he could barely see anything in front of him. He chose to ignore the cold. He closed his eyes and let his other senses take over.

"Mum, I know you're out there somewhere, watching over me. I wish you would help guide me in the decisions I have to make. Father is not who you married. He's a grotesque beast that feeds on humans . . . and Mum, he wants to turn Amaya and me into his kind."

"Apollo," her voice was melodic and soft, like a gentle summer breeze.

Apollo felt the familiar warmth wash over him. He always became unaware of his surroundings when he was in the presence of the spirit of his mother. When he looked up, he saw her beautiful red hair, her milky-white skin, and endearing eyes. She was a translucent version of her live self. Nevertheless, Apollo could see every detail of her beautiful face. He could even see the warmth in her brown eyes.

"Mum," he whispered, with a mix of comfort and despair. He had so many conflicting feelings, but he was so glad she appeared to help him. He quickly looked behind him for that rock to sit on. He sat, hardly taking his eyes off her.

"I've missed you, Son."

"I've missed you, too, Mum. I love you so much."

"And I, you," she replied with an almost overwhelming amount of love in her voice. She beamed with joy, giving her face a fairytale glow. "You haven't called on me in months, Polly. What is this about your father and Amaya, my darling?"

Apollo stared at his mother's appearance, taking in every detail of her face, every movement in her body. She was the epitome of elegance, and Apollo clearly understood why his father loved her so. Even though he admired her ethereal appearance, he knew somehow that his mother already knew everything. Whatever the issue, Apollo had to talk it out with her; it seemed to help him when it came time to heed her advice.

He finally built up enough courage to tell her what he witnessed. His stomach was doing somersaults, but he _had_ to tell her in hopes of her guidance. "Mum, the night you and father were attacked . . . it wasn't by wild animals."

She stood—or floated—there, looking at him intently but lovingly, with a half-smile on her face. Apollo knew she was waiting for him to continue.

"It was a clan of vampires." He paused, waiting for her response, but, she simply looked at him. Apollo grew impatient. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Apollo, everything happened that night for a reason. We cannot question Fate. It was meant to be."

"But now Father wants to turn Amaya and me into vampires! It means we'll never have kids, we'll never age, and we'll never die. And if we never die, then we will never be with you again. Is _that_ my fate? What about Amaya?" Apollo's attitude suddenly turned from defensive to despondent. "Mum . . . I left her there."

"Find the girl, Polly. She will be your guiding star through the dark. She will lead you back into the light," Victoria said in a comforting voice, which somehow calmed her son.

"What about Amaya?"

"Amaya is on her own path. Let her find her way." Victoria hesitated. "I have no more time here. Do as I say, Polly. I love you."

Before Apollo could say anything else to his mother, she floated away into the breeze, leaving him alone in the forest. He whispered, "I love you, too, Mum."

Apollo basked in the residual warmth of his encounter with his mother. He felt sad that she was gone. He sighed. He always did that when he came back to reality. Then he reflected on what his mother had said.

_What did she mean by, "Find the girl?"_ Apollo thought, shaking his head.

Apollo crouched down, scooped a handful of mud, and smeared it over his face. He reached for more and more, in order to spread the cold muck on his neck and hands. With each handful of mud, he covered his clothes, shoes, and anything that would leave his scent lingering in the air.

By not returning, he knew his father would come after him. He trained with Ori and Tereq. He knew how they thought, how they moved, and what they could do. He knew what they were capable of doing as humans, but he did not know what he was up against with them as vampires. He only knew what he read, and he read that they could smell fear, smell any scent from miles away. He relied on the mud's earthy odor to conceal his scent. He also used the mud to keep himself warm.

Apollo pulled his knees to his chest and laid his head on his dirty pants. His lips began to tremble, but he refused to let tears well up in his eyes. He was uncertain as to what to do next. He had to find his way out of the forest and away from his family. The problem was that he had no idea what awaited him outside the only home he had ever known. He sighed, trying to hold back his wave of confusing emotions.

He finally stood, took a deep breath, and vowed to himself that he would not cry. Moreover, he would not let anyone else down, especially not himself. He tried to replay in his mind everything that transpired. Earlier this evening, he was sleeping in his bed, and now a few hours later, he'd found out that his father was a vampire.

He stewed over the confrontation with his father, thought about the way Amaya stepped back and away from him. He was in deep thought, which prevented him from sensing the presence standing near him.

A branch cracked through the trees to his right _._ The warm breath of something living turned to a stream of fog captured in the light of the moon. There was a slight snort. That sound made him realize that whatever it was, it was too close. He froze. Glancing over his shoulder, he anticipated an attack.

His mind went numb with a barrage of thoughts. Was it a vampire? Did his father find him? Should he run? Should he hide? Should he stand still and hope that whatever was near him did not see him? His adrenaline pushed him from frozen to panic mode.

Apollo took off running. He could hear the pounding feet behind him; he could feel his attacker gaining ground. He ran around trees, dodged low-hanging branches and stumbled over roots in the ground. He used his hands to guide him through the darkness of the forest. Then, past the thud of his heart, the sound of his gasp for air, he no longer heard the steps behind him. He only heard his feet pound the dirt, and his heart thump against his chest.

He stopped, leaned over, and braced his hands on his knees. He realized it could not have been Ori, Tereq, or Vasco. Not even Fatima. They could outrun him without any effort whatsoever.

Suddenly, Apollo heard the familiar thud against the ground again that gave him just enough time to look up and throw his hands up to block himself. A beast pushed past him. Apollo hit the ground hard, banging his head on a rock.

He glanced up and focused on a four-legged beast running further into the cascading foothills. Apollo realized it was an elk. The animal seemed more afraid of him than he was of it. He let out a sigh of relief.

Apollo felt a twinge of pain in the back of his head. When he reached back, he felt a wet spot through his hair. He brought his fingers to his nose and smelled his blood. The unmistakable aroma made his stomach churn. If he could smell his blood, he knew _they_ could smell his blood.

He reached down, grabbed mud, and pressed it against his wound. Apollo leaned his head back, looked up toward the moon and begged for guidance through the forest. If anyone were listening to his thoughts, he needed a miracle.

He walked and ran; ran and walked, but he never let his goal change. He never allowed the reason he left his home to escape his twisted mind. Apollo was determined to make it out of the forest where he might have a chance . . . at living rather than fear the fact that, in less than three days, he would be dying.

After an hour of keeping the same pace, he wondered if the world were one vast forest with four-legged beasts and infinite trees. This was the furthest he had ever traveled away from his home, and he could not see an end in sight. He was hungry and tired. His strength was all but gone. His hunger pangs intensified. He slowed down and took a moment to catch his breath. He needed to replenish his strength. Where would he find food?

As if to answer his pleas, the moonlight streamed down through the forest trees on a family of beetles. They were large, meaty, and traveling up and down an enormous tree. He watched them run into each other as they scurried along, tending to beetle business. Apollo walked over to the tree and watched the beetles closely.

He put his hand on the bark, allowing one beetle to crawl onto his arm. It ran to the palm of his hand and stopped. It sat still, unsure where to go or what to do next. With sudden bravado, the beetle crawled to the edge of Apollo's hand and fell off into the dirt, recovering its way back to the tree.

Apollo scooped up three large beetles in his hand and closed his fingers around them. He could feel the insects tickle the palm of his hand while they squirmed to be free. He would have rather set them free, but his stomach was now overriding his reason. He hesitated and then gave in to his hunger.

He shoveled the beetles into his mouth and crunched down on their hard shells. He gagged when the liquid mucus and bitter membranes splattered into his mouth as he quickly chewed and then swallowed. He grabbed another handful and yet another. When the pangs in his stomach were gone, he left the tree and the remaining beetles to continue their work.

It was seconds after he ate that he heard a strange, distant humming. He tried to listen to where the sound was coming from, but it was so vague that it echoed around him. He turned in circles, looking in every direction, trying to decipher the humming's whereabouts.

He walked in one direction, and the sound began to fade. Then he closed his eyes, cleared his mind, and narrowed in on the strange humming noise. The sound was distinct, clear, a variety of humming with two solid surfaces clicking together. Apollo could hear the sound coming from his right. He was stealthy as he moved in that direction, his bow and arrow gripped tightly in his hand.

With each step, Apollo carefully moved around branches that might snap under his steps. He tried to remember his training with Ori, to move swift and keen on the balls of his feet, focusing on being light as a feather.

Apollo focused on breathing, seeing past the darkness, and following the insistent sound that buzzed in his ear. A high-pitched hum sounded more like the melody of sweet music against the howling of the forest. He was getting closer to the noise. When he realized that the sound was coming from a bush, he stopped. The bush sat beneath the glow of the moon's light.

His advantage: the darkness surrounded him. The sound's disadvantage: it was sitting, exposed under the moon's iridescent glow. He was ready to confront the sound that lay beneath the bush. His heart began to pump fast, his adrenaline rushed through his veins. He reached his left hand out and wrapped his fingers around the bush while he held just the arrow in his right hand with the sharp tip pointing downward.

When he pulled the bushes apart, he instantly stumbled backward at the sight of a girl cowered toward the back of the bush, humming while she rocked to the beat of her chattering teeth. Apollo stumbled backward, letting the bush close back around her. He tripped on a root and fell to the ground.

She had not moved. She continued to rock back and forth, hum, and chatter even after she saw Apollo in his muddy suit with an arrow over his head. Apollo had inhaled deeply before he stood. He slowly walked back to the bushes and moved the branches out of the way. He stared down at a girl, close to his age, covered in blood.

He was paralyzed with shock, overtaken by a flood of emotion. He was not sure what to do or how to help her. He wondered if he should close the bush back around her and leave her there. _Who is she? Why is she crouched in a bush out here in the cold?_ His mind moved faster than his thoughts could process.

Finally, he found his voice to speak. "You're a human?" he asked. "You're a person like me?"

She did not respond. Although she appeared to be looking at him, he realized that she was looking through him. The moon kissed the top of her dark brown hair while her brown eyes stared up at him, a longing for someone to put an end to her nightmare—her distress.

He took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Then, he knelt down to her level and watched her eyes follow his movements. She had connected with him. He had to keep her focused. He did not want to lose her to that empty stare. He reached out his muddy hand, but she flinched, and pulled away.

"I'm Apollo. I won't hurt you. I want to help you," he whispered. He watched her shake fiercely. He had to speed this up, or she was going to freeze to death. "Do you have a name?"

"S-S-Soph-Sophie," she stammered.

Apollo reached his hand out to her again, and this time she placed her delicate, cold hand into the warmth of his. _Could this be the girl Mum spoke of?_

## -7-

**Amaya sat on** Apollo's bed alone with her head in her hands. Her long, brown hair fell forward over her face and arms. She had been waiting for her brother to return home after he ran from them earlier. He was gone, and she was alone. For the first time in eighteen years, Amaya and Apollo were apart.

_How did this happen_? she wondered as she ran her hands down her face, wiping at her tears—tears of fear, guilt, horror, disgust—but mostly tears for her brother. She felt his anguish and despair. She understood Apollo's reaction.

How could their father make an agreement like that? Worse, how could he make a deal like that and not tell them that he planned to turn them into these creatures? Amaya stood and paced, processing each thought that plagued her—each thought that tormented her.

She circled his room and kicked at the habitual obstacle course of clothing left on her brother's bedroom floor.

She grieved inconsolably at the thought that her brother was gone and that she was alone. How could he do this to her? How could he abandon her? How could he—

Amaya tripped over a pile of clothes and landed on her knees. The sudden fall stopped her mental gymnastics and released her raw emotions. She sobbed. When she leaned forward and rested her forehead on his nightshirt, she bawled harder. Apollo's shirt soaked up her tears like a sponge—a sponge of heartache and despair.

Amaya pushed herself up to stand, but realized the impact on her knees from the fall had reopened a wound she got the day before when they were racing outdoors.

Her desperation to beat him in that race had caused her to trip and slide across the gravel. She was competitive, yet clumsy. She wanted to be better than he was. No matter what it was, she wanted to be better. Although she would challenge him in anything, Apollo was there to comfort her and tend to her wounds. They have always had to rely on each other for such things. Now he was gone. Now, on whom would she rely?

"Dammit, Polly," she cried. "Why'd you do this?" She regretted waking him up, she regretted dragging him to the cave, and she regretted not telling her father that Apollo had not come home yet. Her father would have gone after him, found him, and brought him back to the house where he belonged. Her father could have fixed this. _Why didn't I go straight to Father?_

Amaya walked back over to Apollo's bed and sat on the edge. Her mind raced through the reasons why she did not tell anyone that Apollo had not returned. He had been gone for hours—mere hours that ticked away at the agonizing pace of a tortoise.

_What if a Sombra got him?_ She was scared. Scared for Polly, scared for herself, and scared that she now knew what her father was and what she was going to become.

"Somebody needs to go after him," she mumbled. She had to find her father and tell him that he was wrong to think Apollo would have returned on his own. She knew her father could fix this desperate situation. She started for the door, but the sound and power of the door thrusting open made her jump back.

"Apollo's not back yet," Nicholas clamored when he stepped into Apollo's room.

"I know, Father. He never came home . . ."

"He's been gone for hours. You should've told me that he hadn't come home yet," he yelled.

"Father!" she cried.

"Why did I hear it from Ori and not you?"

"I was going to tell you, but I thought he'd be back by now."

She feared the look in his darkening eyes. His easy demeanor was gone. He now had a twisted monster-like look on his face. The angrier he became, the darker he appeared. His ridging brow and lengthening canines made his face look grotesque. She had seen those features earlier on Tereq, but she had never seen them on her father. Amaya crawled up on the bed and pressed her back against the cold wall.

When he saw her fear, Nicholas came to his senses. He turned his back to her and took a deep breath to calm his changing appearance. He had to reduce his anger so that he would not scare his own daughter.

"Don't fear me." He inhaled deeply. "I didn't want you to see me like this. I apologize. I'm your father, regardless of my appearance." He turned around to face her with softer lines on his face, his easy demeanor returned.

"I didn't tell you because I was sure he would've been home by now, Papa," Amaya repeated.

"I thought he would have, too." Nicholas walked over to Apollo's unmade bed and sat down on the edge next to Amaya. "I guess we were both wrong."

"Don't be mad at him, Papa."

"I'm not mad at your brother, Maya. I just wish Tereq . . ." His words trailed off, and then he quickly picked up another thought. "I should've told you two what you were going to become."

"When would you have told us?"

"When the time was right; it just never felt like the right time."

"Maybe we shouldn't go through with it?" Amaya whispered.

That immediate thought had tormented him repeatedly through the years. However, to hear Amaya say it, threw him into a controlled fit. "I refuse to watch you both age and die. I lost your mother. You and Apollo are all I have left."

Amaya felt her father's misery. She reached over and ran her hand down his arm. He had always been cold, but she knew what he was now, and she understood why his body was much colder than hers. For a second, she wondered if her skin would be that cold when they turned her into a vampire.

Nicholas glanced into his daughter's eyes before he grabbed and hugged her close to him. While he held her, Amaya could not help but think about her brother's future.

"What will happen to Apollo if we can't find him?"

"The key to our survival is that we're not exposed—our secrecy is our vitality. In this life, in this world, our weakness could be our demise." Nicholas hesitated as he glanced around his son's bedroom. The candlelit room was laden with Apollo's scent. Everywhere Nicholas looked, his son's essence permeated the room.

Nicholas's eyes were distant when he answered Amaya's question. "He'll be found, he'll be punished, and he'll be turned. After all of that, if he does not adapt, I'm afraid Maximiliano will not be tolerant."

"No, Papa." Her emotional turmoil grew at the thought of her brother enduring a punishment or worse. Unable to hold back the flood, she began to sob uncontrollably again.

Nicholas scooped her up in his arms and cradled her the same way he had when she was a child. She felt safe in the midst of his cold arms, especially when thunder would roar through the night, or she'd awakened from a bad dream. He cradled her now out of instinct, perhaps wishing she was again that young, innocent little girl.

He knew she loved her twin brother, but he also knew that Apollo had to mature, grow into the Sanguis he was meant to be. Apollo's turning was non-negotiable. It was an agreement that Nicholas had made with Max in order to spare his children's lives. Maximiliano would have it no other way. If Apollo defied their leader or the natural order, Nicholas and Amaya had to prepare themselves for the possibilities of Apollo's death.

Nicholas stared at the charcoal drawings on Apollo's walls. He set his daughter down on the bed and walked over to a self-portrait that Apollo had drawn. He put his hand on the feathered edges, trying to absorb Apollo's remnant energy. "My son, your goodness will do you no good here, but, it would have been gold in the life we lived before the attack," he whispered.

Nicholas was emotionally torn. Like any parent, he wanted to give Apollo the opportunity to make his own decisions. But, he couldn't. Apollo would have no choice in this matter.

Nicholas walked back to his daughter. He stared down at her beautiful, angelic face. A hint of his wife lingered in her woeful eyes. It was time—time for him to tell her what the true purpose was for his visit. He was on his way to see his children when Ori had stopped him. Ori had explained that Apollo had not returned.

"Amaya, Maximiliano arrived an hour ago. He had a long journey here and asked to see you and Apollo. When we heard that Apollo had not returned, Max sent Ori and Tereq after him."

She nodded. "Why does he want to see us?"

"It's time for you to acknowledge our leader and learn what there is to know before your ceremony."

Amaya could feel her stomach twisting and turning into desperate knots. "I'm afraid, Father."

"Don't be afraid; I won't let anything happen to you. Besides, Max rescued us the night you both were born. Sure, we are in debt to him for rescuing us, but he's always needed me more than he'll ever admit. I can only help Apollo to a point. After that, he has to find his own way." He grabbed a jacket draped over a chair in Apollo's room, "Take this, you'll need it. It'll be cold where we're going."

She wondered where her father was going to take her. With each new situation she encountered, she experienced a different kind of trauma.

Amaya's thoughts flew in many directions. From one thought to the next, she fought the paralyzing hunger pangs that took hold of her stomach. Nicholas had ordered her and Apollo to fast for three days before their initiation ceremony, and she was struggling with the first day. Between her heightened emotions, fatigue, and her brother becoming a fugitive of the clan, she felt alone—even in the grip of her father's arm.

Amaya could not stop thinking about the inevitable discipline her brother was going to suffer due to his actions. She wished he would find peace with the decisions their father had made, but he was quite the opposite—a martyr for those beliefs that he felt strongly about, always willing to sacrifice for the greater good.

Amaya took one last woeful look at her brother's room. The void in her hollowed heart added to the overall pain she was suffering. She took a deep breath and pushed those feelings aside, locked away where she could get to them, but not let them hinder her journey.

"I'm ready, Papa," she whispered.

Nicholas took her by the hand and guided her away from Apollo's bedroom. It was time for her to learn about her future—her future as a vampire.

Nicholas led his daughter through the forest and back to the bushes that were nestled in front of the cave. She felt dizzy as they approached the perimeter. The first time she went inside, she was curious. However, this time, she returned to the cave because her new leader—a "leader" she'd never met, one she'd never known—had ordered her to do so.

Fear and an odd sense of excitement tumbled together in the pit of her stomach. She was on an adventure, a challenge of sorts and the excitement left her in a cloud of mystery. She was stepping into the unknown.

Amaya and her father walked past the area where she and Apollo had stopped. The deeper they walked into the lair, the more she realized how intricately customized the cave was for the clan.

She admired the embellishments along the smooth walls. Burning candles still sat in gold and silver candelabras on various parts of the walls. The candles painted a yellow hue upon the carved-out cave. The further into the cave they walked, the tunnels began to resemble the inside halls of a castle. It no longer looked like a rough, natural cave.

The cavern was an underground castle of intricate sculpted architecture. The walls were adorned with zodiac signs and fascinating eighteenth-century wool wall coverings. Amaya ran her hand across one.

The corridors that Nicholas took his daughter through were like an endless labyrinth of doors and dim entryways. Amaya absorbed everything. She could not look around fast enough to take in the beauty that surrounded her. She wanted to stop and touch everything she saw, every stone, every bit of the eighteenth-century Spanish décor that dressed up this cold, dark cave. What should have been a bare part of the earth was home to the vampires that lived below the surface.

Amaya saw one thing that stopped her in her tracks. She narrowed her eyes, enchanted by a Spanish crest above the lair's solid door. A purple shield with a black stripe and an arching red wreath were the foundation to a banner with words.

" _Nunquam Dormio_ ," Amaya pronounced while staring up at the artifact.

"It means _Never Sleep_ in Latin," Nicholas whispered down toward his daughter's ear.

She could not pull her eyes from it. She was mesmerized by the beauty and meaning behind those two words.

"Stand back." Nicholas put his hand on the thick iron handle, and pulled the door open, unleashing a spine-tingling cold burst of air.

Amaya shivered, wrapping her arms over her chest. Nicholas guided her down a winding, cold, carved stairwell that descended farther into the darkness. She moved closer to her father, looking for warmth and safety—well, at least safety, seeing as how he has never been warm and now she knew why.

With each step, Amaya was frightened to walk further into the dark. She was unable to see the step in front of her and that alone was causing severe anxiety. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Amaya inhaled a breath of relief. But in the next thought, panic rose again when she realized they were so deep underground, no one would ever know she was there. The hidden cave was more than a cave; it was the residence to darkness, death, and night creatures. It was her future home.

"One more thing, Amaya," he remembered. "Follow my lead and address him as 'Sire.'"

Nicholas knocked three times, and after a few seconds, the door creaked open on its own.

## -8-

_This is so beautiful._ Amaya stood at the door of their leader's lair and peered in. She could not believe such a beautiful room hidden underground. Corinthian black marble pillars stood prominent along the cave walls. The musky smell of soil and rock surrounded her. Aside from the smell, the lair looked anything but decrepit. The room was fit for a king.

She glanced above and noticed a majestic mosaic of the sun bordered by stars and the twelve signs of the zodiac. When she looked forward, a robed figure sat in the center of the room on a kingly hand-carved, rock throne. Amaya could barely see through the limited lighting. Only one person could be worthy of sitting on such a masterpiece . . . Maximiliano.

Amaya hesitantly stepped into his sanctuary, barely noticing the deformed servant who stood to the side, waiting to do the master's bidding. Mesmerized by the intricate detail of Maximiliano's den, she swallowed, trying to quell her fear and excitement of entering his lair.

They walked up to the throne where Maximiliano sat and watched, and Nicholas directed his daughter to bow and show respect. Amaya followed his lead but did not divert her eyes to the ground. She watched Maximiliano, wondering if he was as powerful as she imagined. While she watched him with curiosity, he watched her with utter intensity.

Maximiliano stood. The flickering candles showed more of his facial features than when he sat in the shadows of his throne. Amaya gasped at the hideous scars along one side of his face. The scars were wide and curved like the claw of a beast.

His eyes glared at her with bold coldness. The combination of veins on his transparent, pale skin along with the wrinkle lines on his face were from 600 years of simmering revenge that weighed on his mind. She cringed at the sound that his long, sharp nails made when he ran them over the marble banister. The silence in the room turned her stomach even queasier. With disgust and fear, she waited for him to speak.

"Amaya," his baritone voice echoed in the lair as he extended his cold, bony hand to her.

Amaya walked toward him, took his hand and kissed the back of it the way he intended her to do. His skin smelled moldy and old, his bony fingers were stiff and rigid. Her heart was pounding out of control. She quickly backed up to stand next to her father again. She fought the intense urge to wipe her lips of whatever Maximiliano could have had on the back of his hand.

Maximiliano began to walk around his throne in a methodical, almost menacing, way. His long, sharp fingernails continued to tap at the carved stone that encircled his throne. The room was frigid and quiet, and had an eerie feel. "I'm told that your brother has left the grounds."

"Yes," her voice trembled.

"I'm also told . . ." His back was toward them as he continued to circle the throne, running his fingernails across the stone, "that you went past the boundaries and found the caves."

"Yes."

"And what did you see?"

"People chained to walls."

"And?" he inquired.

Amaya could feel the bile in her stomach inching up her esophagus. She did not want to remember what she saw, let alone talk about it. "They were moaning and crying while other people fed on their blood," she whispered.

"Not people! _Vampires!_ "

Amaya jerked from his loud, sudden response. "Yes, Sire." She diverted her eyes to the ground, trying hard to forget that her father was a vampire and in less than three days, she would be one, too.

"How did that make you feel?"

"Scared," she managed to say.

"Humans are always scared," he stated with obvious condescension. "In less than three days, you'll feel the excitement. You'll be proud to declare yourself a vampire." His voice became lower and deeper when he spoke again. "Tell me, how did your brother feel to see us feed?"

"Scared—scared enough to leave."

"Yes, scared enough to leave you here alone," Maximiliano replied, raising one eyebrow. "He didn't care about us, your father . . . and he certainly didn't care about _you._ How did you feel when he abandoned you?" he demanded.

"Angry." Her voice rose with a strange boisterous confidence.

"You have reason to be angry at that coward. You were wise to stay where you belong." Maximiliano paced in front of Nicholas and Amaya with a vicious look in his beady eyes. When he finally spoke, his words were thick with the numbing reality of Amaya's fate.

"Your allegiance is _not_ to your brother. It's to your people. You will become one of us—an addition to our proud family, to our clan. In a few days, you'll become a Sanguis and your pathetic human life will no longer exist."

Amaya's heart pounded against her chest, trying to find a way into her throat. She swallowed back her odd combination of excitement and resignation, desire and fear. Finally, she would become what everyone around her had always been.

The bitter taste of fear crept up when she realized she would have to give up the only life she had known, and the human body in which she had peace. She stood on trembling legs, watching her future grotesque and menacing leader contemplate his next words.

"You'll sleep during the day and move about at night. You'll no longer eat food, but instead, drink human blood." Maximiliano made a hand gesture that summoned a servant toward him. "And you will become acquainted with these beasts who are our servants."

Amaya gasped at the limping beast that dragged one leg behind its horrific reeking body. It resembled a human beneath the layers of wrinkled skin and deformed limbs. Its eyes were not symmetrical; one was much lower than the other. Its mouth did not have lips in front of the sharp-pointed teeth that were jaggedly sparse. Its missing nose revealed a nasal cavity that supplied a constant flow of mucus down its twisted face.

Amaya pulled back slightly and leaned closer to her father. It was difficult to take the sight and smell of it.

Maximiliano introduced the servant. "She's what we call a Sombra."

"They're real?" Amaya asked in disbelief. _I can't believe Tereq was telling us the truth_.

Since she and Apollo were children, Tereq had told them that Sombras resided outside the perimeters. They were something to fear because of their gruesome appearance and their insatiable appetite for anything human, or meaty—especially children. They were no longer legendary to Amaya, nor were they an excuse to stay within the grounds. She was shocked. _They had been real all along._

Nicholas slouched forward and looked at Amaya's face, "Don't be alarmed. They won't hurt you. The Sombras are servants to our clan."

Amaya's shock and initial disgust changed. She no longer felt fear. While staring at the deformed creature in front of her, she had an odd sensation of fascination and empathy instead.

"They? How many are there?" she asked while she walked around it slowly. The creature's eyes attempted to follow Amaya's movements as mucus dripped from her chin to her saggy breasts. Amaya was not the only one appreciating the moment.

Maximiliano admired Amaya's reaction to the beast. He appreciated her embrace of the clan—so much so, his lips twitched into a slight grin. His tone changed to that of a teacher as he continued to explain.

"They've been part of our feeding cycle for centuries. We consume the human's blood and they clean up after us by digesting the leftover carcasses. They hunt efficiently and, above all, they are able to avoid human exposure. The secrecy of our existence is the most critical aspect to our survival."

"What are they?"

"They are deformities, unsuccessful transformations."

That answer jolted her mind back to reality. She looked at her father concerned. "Does that mean I'm at risk of ending up like _that_?"

"No, Amaya," Nicholas quickly answered, eager to correct her and ease her mind. "Neither you nor your brother is at risk of ending up like that. They were once humans with a rare blood disease. The vampire poison mixed with the blood disease creates these creatures. You don't have that disease."

There was a sudden break in their conversation when the door to Max's lair swung open. Max's right-hand man, Vasco, stormed in to the room. Vasco had known Max for 600 years and followed him just like he did when they were humans—when Max and Vasco were both knights to the King of Spain.

Vasco had an air of arrogance about him. He pulled his long hair back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, his face hardened with bitterness, and his eyes narrowed in on Max.

He walked past Nicholas and Amaya as if they were not there, obviously not the least bit concerned that he was interrupting Amaya and her father. However, Vasco was upset; his fangs protruded and his jawline bulged with the grinding of his teeth. His thick eyebrows were drawn together, and the veins in his neck protruded. He flipped his leather trench coat back and away from the front of his body.

When he reached Maximiliano's throne, he lowered his head and approached respectfully. Vasco moved in as if to have a confidential discussion, but he purposely spoke loud enough for Nicholas and Amaya to hear.

"This needs to be dealt with immediately. That boy's weakness is going to expose us all. Have you forgotten how important it is that we stay hidden in these hills away from society?"

Nicholas knew that Vasco, the instigator, was talking about Apollo. He could feel the rage coursing through every vein in his body. He balled his hands into fists, and he restrained extending his fangs.

"I've sent Ori and Tereq to bring Apollo back," Max dully responded.

Vasco's face was stone-cold angry. He glared at their leader. "We should have dismembered them when they were infants."

Nicholas saw Amaya gasp in horror. His fists trembled, he gnashed his teeth and growled as his beastly features manifested. His fangs, black nails, and facial features protruded. His pupils turned black, and his muscles grew larger.

Amaya watched her father in horror, taking a step away from his changing form. When her father growled, she froze in fright. She had never seen him that angry—that ferocious. He was unrecognizable.

Nicholas flew in the air toward Vasco, clawing his face as he passed by him and rolled upright on the landing, growling in anticipation for Vasco to counter. Nicholas shook his right hand, tossing the scooped-out flesh from underneath his extended, sharp nails.

Vasco touched his face to feel the ridges and the flap of skin that unveiled his drooling jawbone. His skin immediately repaired itself. Vasco grinned, and then he hissed and salivated when he further extended his fangs. In a blink of an eye, he was standing in front of Nicholas, ready for the challenge.

Vasco grabbed a handful of Nicholas's hair and smashed his face against the wall, knocking Nicholas into a quick daze. Vasco went in for the kill. He raised his sharp claws and was ready to thrust his daggers into Nicholas's neck to sever his head.

Maximiliano threw up his hand and used his innate power to stop Vasco from the kill. Vasco was unable to move. "Enough! Stand down!" Maximiliano demanded.

Vasco felt his leader release him; he obediently let go of Nicholas and stepped aside. Putting his hands behind his back and retracting his razor-sharp fangs, Vasco glared at Nicholas while he did the same.

Maximiliano sighed at the continual conflict between his followers and the human twins. Two more days and they would no longer have humans on the grounds unless they were food in the blood bank.

Maximiliano shooed Nicholas and Amaya out of his lair. Amaya ran to her father's side, clutching him in concern as they walked toward the door.

Max watched them leave and then turned his attention to Vasco. He extended his fangs, left his throne and stood in front of Vasco in a microsecond. He grabbed Vasco by his shirt and slammed him against the cave wall.

"Listen to me carefully," he growled. "Nicholas is on the verge of the serum we need to complete our army. He's much too important right now. You will not hurt him until we have what we need." Maximiliano released his shirt and retracted his fangs. "Go find Ori and Tereq, and bring back that boy—alive!"

## -9-

**Apollo helped Sophie** stand. She trembled so fiercely, he instinctively leaned down and picked her up, cradling her in his arms. She molded her body to his, slowly burrowing her face into the crook of his neck and shoulder.

His heart ached for her _. What was she doing out in the forest in such condition? Why did she have dried blood splattered on her arms, face, clothes, and hair?_

Apollo found a boulder to sit on while he held the girl in his arms. Her muscles relaxed, and the chattering of her teeth decreased with the rise of her body temperature.

Apollo gazed down at her delicate features. In areas where there was no dried blood, he could see her soft, beautiful skin and long, silky brown hair shimmer beneath the moon's light. Her full, heart-shaped lips were a shade of purple from the frigid air. Her slender body molded perfectly in his arms. He would not allow anything to happen to her. He vowed to protect her.

He scooted back on the rock and leaned against a tree. He tried to keep his eyes open, but while he stared down at the sleeping beauty in his arms, his eyes became heavy and they slowly closed. Fatigue had finally caught up with him, and he dozed off to sleep.

***

The shrieking scream of the woman in his arms was not what woke Apollo first. Her balled fist punching him in the face is what jolted him from his slumber. She scrambled to get out of his lap while her hands punched uncontrollably in the air.

Apollo jumped up and tried to grab her hands, but once she worked her way out of his lap and landed on her feet, she was fast. She turned and ran, howling like a dying animal—screaming as if her life teetered on the edge of existence.

Apollo wanted to quiet her when he jumped off the boulder and ran after her. Her screeching was going to alert the clan of their whereabouts.

He saw no other way than to tackle her. He knew he had to time his jump precisely. When he saw the opportunity, he leaped into the air and landed on her back, bringing her down hard to the ground. He heard her grunt and felt her slide against the forest floor. When she did not move beneath his body, he became concerned.

He quickly jumped off her and turned her over. Her eyes were open, her mouth trembling, and then her fingernails raked across his face and reached to gouge his eyes. Apollo straddled her, grabbed both her wrists in one hand, and slammed them to the dirt. He then covered her mouth with his other hand.

"Stop it! Stop it! You're going to get us killed! Calm down, I won't hurt you. Please," he whispered through his teeth.

Sophie's eyes were fearful while she flung her head back and forth, trying to get out of the restraints of Apollo's hands. She tried to scream and bite at his hand that covered her mouth. She used her hips to thrust up, trying desperately to get him off her.

"Sophie!" Apollo yelled.

She instantly stopped. Confusion crossed her face, her eyes softened to a questioning glare.

"Please, Sophie. I don't want to hurt you. I'm hiding just like you, but if you keep screaming like this, you're going to get us both killed. Now, can I take my hand off your mouth?"

She nodded, still glaring at him inquisitively. Her eyes were still frightened, but in a questioning gaze.

Apollo removed his hand slowly. "I'm going to let your hands go, too. Please, don't do anything rash; I don't want to hurt you," he whispered.

Apollo slowly released her hands and moved to her side. He was still cautious that she might try to strike out again. He watched her closely, taking in every move she made. She watched him with the same intensity—the same curiosity.

Sophie sat up and scooted further away from him—not sure what to make of the dried mud over his face, hair and hands. She controlled her breathing but kept her eyes on him. She saw his cheek where she had used her nails to scrape past the mud and tear into his skin. He was dripping blood. "Who are you? Why were you holding me?" she asked.

"Apollo . . . my name is Apollo. I found you alone, hiding in a bush. You were scared. You seemed hurt and cold, so I was trying to keep you warm."

"Why?"

"Why? Because you were in shock and if I left you in that bush, you would have frozen to death." Apollo's eyes searched her face. He wanted to know everything about her, but he knew he needed to start with the basics. "Why are you out here?"

"I don't know. I-I don't remember. I know something horrible happened, but I can't remember what it was."

Apollo knew that she was in shock when he had found her hiding in the bushes. Once her body found warmth against his, she came out of the mental state of shock she was in and forgot that he had helped her.

"Listen, we're in danger sitting out here like this. I'm trying to find my way out of the forest. Do you remember how you got here?"

"No, I was running. I was running away from something." She drew her eyebrows together. She tried to remember what it was that brought her into the forest.

"Okay, never mind. We have to keep moving." Apollo reached down, scooped mud into his hands and reached for her arm.

Sophie pulled away.

"Trust me, please. We want to throw off our scent," he pleaded with her. "I will explain everything later, but for now, please trust me. We have to go."

Sophie, although hesitant at first, reached down, scooped a handful of mud, and smeared it on her skin. She repeated the process until she looked like a wet version of the dried mud on Apollo. "What are we running from?"

"Creatures that want to hurt us." He wanted to tell her more, tell her about his family and their secret, but now was not the time. He knew every minute they wasted sitting, talking or sleeping in the forest was going to give those vampires a chance to catch up to them. "Give me your hand; I need you to keep up with me."

He applied more mud to the wound on his face where her nails had torn into his skin. After he had buried the scent of his blood beneath the mud, they took off running through the forest trees.

Their pace was steady, dodging around the low-hanging tree branches and maneuvering between massive tree trunks. Apollo knew they were running south, away from his home. But, he was not sure if south was the direction they wanted to go. He figured if they ran away from the vampire cave, the better off they would be. With his bow and arrow gripped tightly in his hand, he glanced back every so often to make sure Sophie was behind him. Suddenly, Apollo slowed down to catch his breath.

"What happened? Why are we stopping?"

"I just want to catch my breath, but we need to keep moving."

"Are we going the right way?"

"Honestly, I've no idea. I just think we need to keep moving, and we'll eventually get out of here." Apollo suddenly stopped and leaned his shoulder against a tree. His left hand flew up to his chest, and his breathing intensified.

Sophie saw him struggle to take in air. She ran back to him. "What's wrong? What is it?"

"My heart—I'm getting a pain in my chest," he explained, struggling to talk.

"What can I do? Tell me what to do and I'll help you."

"Oh, man," he gasped as he fell to his knees still holding his hand over his chest. He leaned his head against the tree and closed his eyes.

"Please, don't die. Don't leave me out here," she begged, kneeling in front of him and wrapping her arms around his body.

Apollo focused on his breathing. He slowed his heaving chest and sucked in the air slowly, releasing it even slower. He could feel his pulse pounding and his blood bubbling. Minutes felt like hours. He centered his mind and his body to try to defuse the bomb in his chest. His heart was beating entirely too fast.

Like the dimming fire under a boiling pot of water, he began to feel his blood lose velocity and flow easier through his veins. The pain in his chest subsided, and he could feel himself begin to breathe easy again.

"I'm okay. I'm better now," he whispered in Sophie's ear.

Her body was up against his. Her head resting on his shoulder and her fingers clasped together against his back. She lifted her head and pulled back just far enough to gaze into his eyes. The full moon provided enough light for her to see his features clearly. Something about him . . . something about her . . . there was a bond that seemed entirely too strong for two people that had just met.

Apollo got up and extended his hand to help her stand. She locked her hands in his with trust. For once, it seemed they were both able to see past their muddy circumstances and connect with a submissive gaze.

Apollo felt an emotion he had never felt before—a desire that pulled at his inner need. He could feel his blood start to simmer again, and he quickly looked away out of shyness. He nervously ran his hand through his red, muddy hair and turned his back, clearing his throat.

Sophie reached up and rested her hand on his back. "Has this ever happened before? The pain-in-your-chest thing?"

"It's happened often since I was young. A few times a month, if I'm overly active or my adrenaline is pumping too fast then my body will feel like it's on fire. There are times that my chest will feel as if it's going to explode."

"What has the doctor said?" she asked concerned.

He could have told her that his father had a medical background, but he was not ready to open Pandora's Box.

"I haven't been to a doctor about it. I don't need one; I'm okay. We should keep moving."

They both navigated by moonlight and the use of their hands in order to get around tree branches and bushes. They were quiet, both processing their thoughts. Using the silence as a time to reflect and try to understand everything that had happened in the last few hours. Finally, Sophie broke the silence.

"What were you doing out here?" she asked.

Apollo was hesitant before he spoke, remembering Ori telling him that no one could know about his family or the land that his family occupied. He shrugged at his thoughts. "I was raised in a house deep in the forest."

"So, you should be familiar with this area and how to get out of here," she commented.

"I've never been this far away. We were restricted." He glanced at her, trying to see her expression in the dark. The trees were especially thick, and the moonlight was not filtering through as it was before.

"That's sad. Why would they keep you locked up like that?"

"My father told me and my sister that it was for our own protection."

"Protection from what?"

"I don't know. I left because I didn't feel safe. My family wanted me to protect their horrible secrets. We found out about things that put us at risk. Unfortunately, my sister is still there because she refused to come with me. I still don't know why she stayed; I just know that I don't want to go back." His thoughts traveled to his sister's smile, her competitive nature. He missed her dearly.

"You have a sister?"

"Yeah, she's my twin."

"It must be cool to have someone that looks like you," she said.

"Actually, we don't look anything alike. She got the looks, I got the brains." He tried to find humor while they were dealing with their challenging situation.

"I think you two shared the looks."

"My sister looks more like my father, and I resemble my mother. Father said I got Mum's genes and Amaya got his."

"Well, your mom is beautiful then," she shyly whispered. "Where is your family from?"

"Mum is Spanish and Irish. My father is English. He met my mother in England when they were teenagers. Eventually they married and . . ." Apollo's voice trailed off, and he was silent for a few seconds.

Sophie knew something dreadful must have happened. "And then?" she asked hesitantly.

"She died during childbirth."

"That's horrible. I can't . . ."

Apollo stopped abruptly, which caught Sophie's attention. He stared at her, which made her fidget uncomfortably.

"What?" she asked.

Apollo did not move; instead, he continued to stare at her with his eyebrows furrowed. Then he lifted his index finger and placed it gently against his lips, hushing Sophie from saying another word.

She looked around the area surrounded by trees. The subtle rustling of bushes nearby kept her head turning from one side to the other.

"Something's not right. I'm sensing we're being watched," he whispered.

Sophie moved in closer to Apollo, gripping on to his right, muddy arm. They stood in complete silence, as if waiting for the worst to happen.

Finally, Apollo wrapped his hand over hers and continued walking with caution in the same direction they had been. After a few moments, she broke the silence.

"I'm sorry to hear about your mother."

Apollo kept her close to him while his eyes scanned every direction as they walked, searching for a way out of the forest. He could feel Sophie shiver. He took his right arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her even closer to him. In an attempt to keep her from panicking over what he sensed, he turned his mouth near her ear and whispered, "Where do you live?"

"Billings, Montana."

Apollo shook his head, "I've seen that on a map. That's pretty far, isn't it?" he asked, as the two of them ducked under a low branch.

"It's about twelve hours from here."

"What are you doing out here, so far away from your home?"

Sophie smiled, "My dad wanted to take us out here for a getaway, so we could . . ." Sophie stopped in mid-stride. Horror and shock swept across her face as she sucked in her breath. Tears welled up in her eyes. Her heart was pounding faster and harder. She backed up as she remembered why she was in the middle of the forest.

"What's wrong?" Apollo raced to her side.

She could not speak; the horror of her thoughts constricted her throat. She was finding it hard to breathe. She needed to catch her breath, so she could scream. "Oh, no . . ." she cried. She pushed Apollo's hand away from her. Her voice was low, strained and unfamiliar to herself.

"Sophie, please." Apollo wrapped his hands around her arms, holding her tight as her legs buckled from under her; he helped her fall to the ground slowly.

"They took my family! I saw them, I saw them, I saw them bite into my father's neck." Her sobs were fierce, her body convulsing just as he had found her earlier.

Apollo knew. At that moment, he knew. The Sanguis took her family—the Sanguis took them to the blood bank to keep as food. He knew he could not tell her; instead, he would let her cry into his chest until she had no more tears—until she had dispelled enough sorrow.

She cried, rocking back and forth in Apollo's arms. He pressed his warm lips to her forehead several times while he held her close. He needed her as much as she needed him. Together, they were going to get out of the forest, away from the horror of the entire night.

If he could fix any of this, he would go back and get Sophie's family. While he was there, he would drag Amaya with him. But, he couldn't. He refused to accept the future his father had chosen for him.

Out of nowhere, two bright lights caught his attention. He was not sure what they were, but through the trees, he could see the lights approaching.

"Sophie, Sophie," he anxiously tried to get her attention.

She glanced up at him and then in the direction of his gaze. "A car, it's a car, Apollo," she jumped up and started running toward the two-lane highway that was now visible.

Apollo jumped up and ran after her. He had no idea what a car was, but her desperation to make contact with it was obviously something worth reaching for.

Together, at top speed, they ran toward their freedom, toward their salvation. The wind was blowing through their hair, their lean bodies jumping and dodging faster than they ever had. They ran with purpose—with determination.

As they approached the highway, Sophie slid to a halt and fell on her behind. Apollo watched her fall and crawl backward on her hands and feet in one sudden motion. He looked up and into the eyes of Ori and Tereq. He instinctively grabbed Sophie, pulled her up, and swung her behind him.

Ori was in human form. Tereq's face was in between human and vampire. His eyes were black, his eyebrow ridge extended and straight across his forehead, but he had not released his fangs.

"Where do you think you're going, Polly?" Tereq demanded.

"Please, please you guys, let us go."

"You know we can't do that, Apollo. Vasco would kill us if we were to let you go," Ori explained.

"Ori, please, don't do this." Apollo had one hand up, trying to keep them at a distance. He wrapped his other hand with the bow and arrow around Sophie's arm, while she hid behind him with her head buried into his back.

"You were hard to find, Polly. I see we've taught you well. But . . ." Tereq slowly circled around them as he talked. "Her dramatic scene of remembering her family was quite a show from the trees."

Apollo could feel his blood start to boil, anger coursing through his body. "Tereq, you have a choice, please. You don't want me around here. Let me take Sophie and leave."

Tereq laughed at Apollo's plea. "Your father already chose your fate," Tereq said, grinning at the pain and betrayal he knew those words would inflict on Apollo.

"This is bullshit! Ori, do something, please," Apollo pleaded with his close friend. "You're like a brother to me. Don't let him turn me. Didn't you have a life before you became a vampire?"

Ori glanced at both Tereq and Apollo. "Your sister needs you right now; at least, go back for her. Be there for her."

Apollo knew there was some logic to Ori's words. The void of his sister tormented him. But, he knew there was nothing he could do to convince Amaya. He looked to the sides for an escape. But the reality was, he could not convince himself that he had the possibility to escape his grim situation. The only thing his defeated spirit was compelled to do was negotiate.

"If you let Sophie go, I'll go back with you."

Tereq laughed, "That's not for us to decide, you idiot."

"Apollo!" Sophie screamed as he felt her yanked from his side. Vasco had his grip around her arms, his thick teeth extended with his hand under her chin, extending her neck for full visibility.

"No, Vasco! Don't touch her, don't hurt her, please," Apollo pleaded. He lifted his bow, quickly lined up the arrow and released it toward Vasco's head.

Vasco's hand grabbed the arrow inches from his eye and then threw it to the ground. "I don't make deals, Boy." Without hesitation, Vasco opened his mouth and sank his teeth into the side of Sophie's neck.

She screamed in pain. Within seconds, her scream turned to a whimper and her eyes began to roll back into her head. Apollo charged at Vasco and attempted to knock him off her. Vasco's left hand swung at Apollo, hitting him on the chest. Apollo flew into a tree off to the side. He lay on the ground, unconscious.

Vasco pulled his teeth from Sophie's neck and threw her to the ground like a rag doll. He'd always found pleasure in human anguish. He found Apollo's pain especially sweet. It was a small payback for all the years of rules that imposed upon them from their arrival.

Vasco turned his attention to Ori and Tereq. "Why were you wasting your time listening to this useless boy? The next time Maximiliano gives you an order, you had better obey him, or I will personally feed you to the Sombras. Quickly, grab them both and bring them to the caves as our King commanded. Their fate has yet to be determined."

## -10-

**Apollo was not** fully coherent when he reached his hand up to massage the pain in his neck. As his vision began to return, he saw a large rodent sniffing at his face.

"Get away from me." He swung his hand at the animal and watched it run off. _Where am I?_

He pushed himself up onto his knees and brushed at the gravel that clung to his face and side from the ground where he was lying. He gripped the back of his neck while he tried to assess his location. He was not sure where he was, but he recognized the rancid, humid smell of the cave. The foul, thick air and rotted flesh made his stomach queasy. The small room he was in had three walls and one iron prison-like door with a huge padlock.

The only source of light in his room came from three pillar candles that sat on a makeshift wall-shelf just outside his cell.

He pushed himself up onto his feet. His shoulders and neck were sore from Vasco thwarting his attempt to save Sophie by throwing him against a tree. Apollo winced at the pain that shot from his shoulder down his arm. He shuffled his feet through the pebbles toward the bolted, thick iron door that sealed the diamond-shaped space where they left him.

His hands grasped the rusty bars, and he pushed and pulled to pry it open. It would not budge. Apollo tilted his head to see down the long hallway. His prison cell was at the end of a long tunnel. There was nothing but solid rock to his left, the pillar of candles on the wall four feet in front of him and the only tunnel passage to his right.

"Father!" he yelled. When his voice echoed off the walls, he cringed.

Once the echo of his voice stopped, the only sound left was his heavy breathing and the eeriness of the silence around him.

"Father, get me out of here. Father?!" he yelled again. The silence was eerie.

"Apollo, your father's laboratory is too far from here. He won't hear your distress call."

Apollo was instantly quiet. He looked around startled because he thought he was alone, but the stranger sounded as if he were in a room next to his. Apollo did not recognize the stranger's deep, raspy voice. "Who are you? How do you know my father?" Apollo was anxious for answers.

"I'm a prisoner like you. I'm here to tell you—"

"Are you a vampire?" Apollo's mistrust interrupted the voice.

An uncomfortable silence lingered while Apollo waited for him to respond. "Why are you in here?" he impatiently asked again.

"I don't have much time," the voice said. "Your father has been misled."

"What do you mean, 'misled'?" Apollo's voice rose with anticipation of what this stranger had to say.

"The night your family was attacked, I was there."

"You were there?" Apollo questioned.

The mysterious voice in the other cell did not respond. The silence infuriated Apollo.

"Hey, I'm talking to you, what did you mean you were there?" Apollo grew angrier at each passing second that the silence lingered. After a minute of dead silence, he burst into his angriest, loudest cry.

"ANSWER ME, YOU COWARD!" Apollo grabbed hold of the bars again and yanked on them. "Anyone, Father, Ori, anyone, get me out of here!" Saliva shot from his mouth with fury. "Get me the fuck out of here!" He shook and kicked the door in desperation.

Apollo looked around his cell for something to throw, but it was empty. He paced back and forth like a caged animal. No one responded to his plea. The only sound that remained was his fierce panting and his aggressive pacing.

In his final attempt to get the stranger to respond to him, he yelled in desperation. "WHO ARE YOU? WHY WON'T YOU TALK TO ME? Someone let me out of here. Father, Father, FATHER!"

"I ended my priesthood years ago," Tereq said as he stepped in front of the bars with his arms tight across his chest.

Apollo jumped away from the gate with Tereq's instant appearance. "Tereq, get me out of here, please."

Tereq grinned. He enjoyed basking in Apollo's desperation. He opened the door and signaled him to come out of the caged cell. "It's time for you to follow me."

Apollo was hesitant to move. "Where are you taking me? Where's—"

In a blink of an eye, Apollo went from being inside the cell to standing in front of it. Apollo rubbed his already sore neck from the whiplash of Tereq's unexpected pull.

"I said, follow me, boy," Tereq growled.

When Apollo passed the cell next to his, he glanced inside to catch a glimpse of the man he had spoken with a few minutes earlier. There was someone in the cell, but he was cowering in the shadows and just the whites of his eyes were visible. Apollo quickly looked away.

Although he had no idea where Tereq was taking him, he followed close to Tereq's side. "Where's my father? Where's Sophie?"

Tereq walked a few steps ahead of Apollo. He ignored Apollo's desperate questions. Instead, he allowed himself to enjoy Apollo's torment. Finally, in his deep, unemotional voice he said, "Sophie? Are you referring to that human girl you brought us?" When Tereq laughed, it was more of a sadistic growl.

Apollo felt the adrenaline race through his blood. His breathing was growing deeper with each thought that they may have hurt her. Emphasizing each word, Apollo's voice was low and distinct. "God damn creatures better not have touched her."

Tereq's body tensed. He whipped around on Apollo and released his vampiric features.

Apollo stopped and swallowed against the instant fear that rose in his throat.

Tereq took a step toward Apollo and backed him up against the wall. "God damn creatures? Is that what you just said?"

Apollo lifted his head in defiance, making a stand not to back up any further.

"What do you know about God and his creatures? We are _all_ creations of God. And, according to God, we have all been created in his image. Didn't Ms. Beasley teach you anything?" Tereq snapped his teeth together close to Apollo's face.

Apollo stood silent unsure of Tereq's intentions. "I just meant that you better not have touched her." He felt chills run down his spine. Tereq's sadistic, deformed features were horrific enough to feel the fear crawl under his skin.

"And if we have, do you plan on asking God for his help?" Tereq glared at the human.

"I didn't say that," Apollo quickly retorted.

Tereq could hear Apollo's rapidly beating heart. He could smell his fear. The essence of Apollo's fear was what Tereq loved most about being a vampire. He glared at Apollo before he turned and continued their walk, a little slower now.

"After many faithful years in the monastery, I've come to learn a few facts: The first is that God is a vampire."

"Tereq, I—"

"History has taught us that God has always demanded blood through sacrifices. God has had a vampiric fascination with blood since the beginning."

Apollo tried to ignore Tereq's blasphemous words by noticing his surroundings. He could not help but notice the eighteenth-century artifacts and Spanish tapestries on the walls. The farther they traveled through the intricate system of tunnels, the farther they descended through what appeared to be neverending paths.

"Where's my father?"

"Hush, I'm teaching you something. Fast forward two thousand years, God demanded the blood of his own son. I would say that such an act is vampiric. God basks in the torment of his people. He has more bloodshed on his hands than any vampire ever has."

Tereq stopped abruptly and faced Apollo. "The truth is, vampires are neither accidents nor freaks of nature. God created _us_ in his image. We are _truly_ god-like in our quest for blood." Tereq retracted his vampiric features and continued walking in silence.

Apollo was relieved when they had reached their destination. They stopped in front of a large iron door with a crest that Apollo attempted to read: _Nunquam Dormio._

Tereq threw open the steel door, and Apollo braced himself against the cold air that engulfed him. They walked in silence down a winding stairwell until they reached a door at the bottom of the stairs.

Tereq knocked on the steel door. Before he turned to leave, he had leaned forward and whispered in Apollo's ear, "Welcome to my world."

Tereq began his way back up the staircase as the door creaked open. Apollo stepped inside the room. He looked up at the marble pillars and stared in amazement of its beauty. It was not until he looked down to appreciate the floors that he noticed his father and sister stood before a throne in the center of the lair. When Apollo realized the importance of the regal presence sitting on the throne, he walked toward his father and stood by his side.

Apollo soaked in the layers of dark evil that surrounded him. He quivered at the thought of the weakness in which he stood before their beastly leader. He held his breath, watched every movement Maximiliano made, and kept his senses alert.

Apollo jumped when he felt a warm hand slide into his. Amaya had moved next to him. She wanted to comfort him. She respectfully kept her eyes focused on their leader. He glanced down at their fingers intertwined and directed his attention back to Maximiliano.

"You are here to be sentenced." Maximiliano was an impatient leader of few words. His deep voice seemed to vibrate from all directions.

"I did nothing but try to leave."

Maximiliano slammed his fist on his hand-carved throne, shaking the floor beneath their feet. "Do not interrupt me." In the blink of an eye, Max was standing within inches of Apollo.

Apollo could smell his rancid breath; his withered body reeked. Apollo lifted his chin to look up at Max, ready for his sentencing. He felt Amaya grip his hand tightly.

"Your actions will affect those you love. Therefore, you both will spend the next two days cleaning the Sombra pit."

Amaya's face turned stark white. "What? Why am I being sentenced when I did nothing wrong? Father, tell him?"

Nicholas hand-signaled Amaya to be silent and cease her protest, but it was too late.

Maximiliano raised his hand and with a telekinetic elder ability, stopped Amaya from breathing. She felt a squeezing sensation around her throat. Her face turned blue, and her eyes bulged. Amaya held her throat and gasped for air with her mouth wide open.

Maximiliano only held his mental grip on her long enough to make his point. When he released her, she coughed and gasped for air as she reached for her father. Maximiliano continued his cold verdict, "As I was saying, you will _both_ clean up the Sombras' pit until the turning ceremony. Then we can be done with these trivialities."

Apollo's heart sank to see his sister weeping. He was not sure what a Sombra was, but he already sensed what the punishment entailed. His mind went to the glimpses of the putrid blood bank and the creatures that wallowed in human carcasses.

Apollo looked at the horror on his sister's face. He had run, and she had stayed, yet she would serve his punishment right by his side. How could he fight for his own rights when everything he did would affect his sister and his father?

"I'm sorry, Amaya," Apollo muttered.

Amaya frowned at Apollo with hurt, desperate eyes. Then she fell to her knees and continued to weep into her hands.

## -11-

**No human had** ever spent time in the pit unless they were thrown there for the Sombras to eat. It was clear to Apollo and Amaya that the pit was nothing more than the bowels of the cave—a sewage dump for the carcasses from the blood bank. To the Sombra, the carcasses meant a barbaric feast of limbs and body parts flying throughout the room.

Today, however, Vasco escorted Amaya and Apollo into the cavity of the Sombras' pit to start their two-day sentencing. Two days of janitorial work in the Sombras' feeding hollow.

Did Maximiliano care whether the pit was clean? No. He wanted to desensitize the twins before their ceremony. The less they cared about being human, the more they embraced being vampires.

However, it was Amaya's wrenching sobs that echoed through the cave. Those echoes reminded Apollo of a dying animal. Her high-pitched noises traveled through his senses like fingernails that dragged across a chalkboard. He wished he could get her out of the pit. Oh, not because he felt guilt or empathy, but because there was nothing he could do and yet his sister continued to cry.

"Stop crying, please . . . I can't think when you're crying." Apollo pressed the palms of his hands over his ears.

"Oh my God, Apollo, what is that right there?" Amaya pointed to a pile of bloody slop bubbling on the ground. "I want out of here, please get us out of here!" she screamed hysterically, leaning over and throwing up acids from her empty stomach.

Apollo turned away. If he watched his sister vomit, he would dry-heave the lining of his stomach. The smell of the room was unbearable. The reek of a pit full of uneaten, rotted body parts was so potent that even blocking their sinuses from the smell turned the odor into a thick taste in their mouth.

"Why am I here with you?" Amaya ran the back of her hand over her mouth, swiping at the string of saliva mixed with stomach acid that ran down her chin. "I don't belong here."

"Neither of us belongs here," Apollo yelled.

"Yeah, but _you're_ the one who ran. _You're_ the one who wouldn't accept your fate."

"And you're telling me that you're looking forward to _this?_ " Apollo threw his arms out to either side, displaying the disgusting mess that the Sombras had made.

"No, Apollo. I'm not looking forward to _this_." Amaya mocked him and then rubbed the tears from her eyes. "I want my bedroom, my bed, food, and I want out of this, this . . . whatever this is."

"Yeah, well, I want my life. Damn it, Amaya, I want my fucking life back."

It was a surreal scene. They stood alone in an octagon room that was roughly carved from the existing rock. There were no embellishments. The walls that imprisoned them were twenty feet high with an open ceiling to a path above so vampires could view the scene below. The sides of the pit resembled a high-powered blender with the remains of victims stuck to the rigid walls.

The architect who had designed the room had thought out every detail. With rough, beveled walls, halfway up, a victim who was still alive may think he could escape his fate until he realized the surface from midpoint to the top was glassy smooth.

Apollo walked toward the other side of the pit and grabbed the push broom that was propped against the wall. He refused to look at his sister. Instead, he pushed the broom across the slippery floor. He closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth.

He loathed being at odds with her. After a few moments, he glanced at her. Amaya's long brown hair was matted from sweat and tears. She wore a t-shirt and a pair of light blue jeans that hugged her slim curves. She had on a pair of black boots that extended over her jean pants and stopped just below her knees. They had thick, heavy soles and zipped up the sides.

Apollo watched her sob in the corner near the only door that led in and out of the pit. He let out a heavy sigh, full of despondent guilt, frustration, and hopelessness. He held the tears back that welled up in his eyes.

***

Two drudging days crept by like two agonizing decades in the secluded, dimly lit Sombras pit where Amaya and Apollo slaved. Time was a luxury they did not experience while inside the inescapable walls that imprisoned them. It had taken them both an entire day to adapt to the unbearable stench of rotted flesh and feces—and even then, they had not adapted, but rather hardened to the situation.

The ground was slippery from a gelatinous mixture of innards and bodily fluids. The twins were weak from the instinctive vomiting induced by their nauseating environment. Amaya only made matters worse for Apollo with her constant crying and berating.

He tried talking to her sensibly, but she wanted nothing to do with him. Amaya was inconsolable. She even separated from him when they slept next to a cleaned area along the wall of the pit. When she would wake up and see Apollo next to her, she immediately moved and isolated herself from her Judas brother.

Toward the end of their sentencing, Amaya was relieved that they had remained alone—no Sombras had visited the feeding area. Those hideous beasts were sent to another area to feed while the twins were there.

They had swept and shoveled the body parts, and then dumped them into large baskets that a couple of the beasts would fetch. Their two days of cleaning out the pit were almost over—almost.

Apollo pushed the broom across the lumpy cave floor. He thought back to the night that Amaya took him to the cave. Little did they know that their lives would change so drastically that evening. The last real conversation he'd had with Amaya was just before she dragged him to the cave. He missed her.

He decided he was going to do everything in his power, at this moment, to get Amaya to forgive him. He needed her forgiveness. After all, he had dragged her into this mess, and she suffered because of his rebellious attitude. He needed his sister back.

"Amaya, can we talk?"

She was no longer crying, no longer fearful of the Sombra pit that she had just spent two days cleaning. She was sweeping as if it were the only thing keeping her alive. "I have nothing to say to you."

"I'm telling you, if I knew that Max was going to put you in here with me, I wouldn't have left. You have to believe me." Apollo reached over and grabbed Amaya's arm. He wanted her to stop sweeping so he could talk with her.

"Because of you, I've spent two days in this hell-hole," her voice trembled. "I'm covered with blood, mucus, feces, and pieces of people. . . Because of you!" she yelled.

Apollo looked down at his jeans and t-shirt. Particles of human remains also covered his clothes. His white shirt was stained with blood from the mess of human remains and sweat from the strenuous work. His dark jeans had a trail of liquids down his thighs from swiping his hands down the front of his jeans when they got sweaty. His red hair clung flat to his head and face from his sweat. Worse yet, earlier, he'd had a human tooth stuck in the bottom of his shoe. "If I could take this back, I would."

"Would you? Are you going to _willingly_ give in to the turning ceremony?"

Apollo looked away when her questioning eyes searched his face. He was not sure he could surrender himself willingly to a life without a soul. He wanted more—he wanted so much more.

"That's what I thought," she whispered.

"Why are you okay with this? Look around, Amaya. This is _not_ the future that we talked about. We used to daydream of super speed and strength, but there's nothing glamorous about this. _This_ is not what we thought we'd be doing with our lives."

"Papa chose this for us."

"That doesn't make it right. That doesn't make it acceptable. Is this what you want?"

"It doesn't matter what I want. They are stronger and more powerful than we can imagine. If we run, they _will_ catch us; if we hide, they _will_ find us."

"Look at me." He knew she felt scared and vulnerable. He reached out to her, put his fingers under her chin, and lifted her face to look at his. He looked into her darker-than-usual blue eyes.

"Do you remember when we were kids? We must have been about eight years old and Ms. Beasley, that ol' kook, asked us to go past the boundaries of our property to pick an herb for the soup she was making?"

Amaya nodded. Her eyes searched her brother's deep brown eyes. His long, thin nose and shapely lips were turned down at the corners. Amaya could see the sadness in his eyes, the pain on his face. Her heart ached at seeing his usually handsome face, so troubled. "Papa had forbidden us to go there."

"Yes, and remember we were walking toward the barbed-wire fence where we had found that hole?"

"Yeah, and the closer we got to the fence, the slower we walked. You wanted to get that herb for Ms. Beasley, and I tried to talk you out of going," Amaya remembered.

"Yeah, but you know me. . . I don't listen." He slightly smiled, trying to lighten his sister's mood.

"That's the truest thing you've said in a long time," she smirked.

"What did I do when we got up to the fence? Do you remember?"

Amaya diverted her eyes as she thought about that moment, and then suddenly looked at him when she recalled what he did. "You went off to the side mumbling something to yourself. And then you came back and said we needed to go back to the house, something was going to happen."

"Exactly. We ran back to the house and found Ms. Beasley had burnt her hand in the fire."

"What does this have to do with right now, Polly?"

Apollo cleared his throat. "I wasn't mumbling to myself, Maya. I was talking to Mum." He saw Amaya's eyebrows come together in a deep frown.

"What?"

"I've talked to Mum many times."

"What? What do you mean you've talked to Mum? Is this a joke? Mum is dead. I don't find any of this funny."

"She comes to me . . . Amaya listen to me." He stopped her from turning her back on him. "She comes to me when I call to her. I've seen her several times since we were younger."

"I think the stench has gotten to your brain. You're crazy." Amaya pulled away from Apollo, dropped her broom and walked to the far corner toward the doorway. She needed fresh air; she needed to get out of the dark pit. " _If_ you are able to talk to Mum, why haven't you told me about it?" she asked.

"I don't know. I guess because we share everything, and I wanted something that was mine."

"Mum is not yours. She is _our_ mother, and you can't keep her for yourself." Amaya was furious. _Who did Apollo think he was?_ She had never kept anything from him, especially something this significant.

"You're right," Apollo muttered, as he let out yet another discouraged sigh. He had hoped that the news of his ability to see their mum would have made Amaya happy or in better spirits. But his hope was dashed when he realized how much this had backfired. He'd just dug his own pit deeper.

Amaya rested her face in the palms of her hands. She closed her eyes, trying to remember a happier time. "Look at us, Polly. Three days ago, our lives were great and now look at us."

Apollo went to his sister, and sat down on a bumpy extended part of the wall next to where she stood. He grabbed her hand and pulled her down to sit next to him. When she did, he put his arm around her shoulders. After a few moments of thinking, Apollo looked at his sister. He studied her face. He felt the distance that still lingered between them. "I'm just as scared as you are. Maybe even more."

"How so?"

"You're trying to accept this. I'm trying to fight against it. But. . ." his voice sounded quieter, "I don't know what's going to happen to me—happen to us."

"Why do you think Papa had bargaining power with our lives?" Amaya asked.

"Max wants something that Papa has. Tereq referred to that two nights ago in the forest."

"What do you think Papa has? He came here with nothing. He said he had us in his arms, and all he had on was a lab coat."

"Nah, I think it has to do with Papa's blood research. But I truly don't know. What I do know is that Mother gave me a message about a girl leading me to the light. I think that girl is Sophie."

"Sophie? That girl you found in the forest? Father told me about that muddy girl. Are you kidding me? Do you honestly think Mum cares about Sophie? We've been in this cave for two days with no sunlight, cleaning up people like us that have been torn apart, and you think Mother would foresee your future with _a stranger?_ What about us? What about right now? Did she say anything about that?" Amaya stood and grabbed her broom.

"I'm sorry. I just think—"

"Do us all a favor, Polly, and _stop_ thinking. If you don't embrace this new way of life, then we will both suffer. And that's just not fair."

Apollo reached to grab Amaya's arm. When she felt his touch, she flinched, turned quickly to face him and said, "I _will_ make you pay, Apollo. As much as I love you, I will not let _you_ and your mutinies affect my life."

Amaya whipped around, put her back to Apollo, and continued to sweep. He was not sure what else to say to her. It was time to get his thoughts straight. He realized there was now a chasm that separated them. He needed to put together his plan of escape—his plan to save Sophie.

The loud, all-too-obvious silence that engulfed the pit was broken when Tereq opened the door. Their sentencing was over. It was time for them to prepare for their inevitable future—their turning ceremony.

## -12-

**The walk from** the Sombras' pit to yet another room in the vampires' underground world was like an annoying scab that lingered for days. For Apollo, he felt as if he was in a repetitive nightmare that had him walking down the same cold, eerie corridor step after step. His feet felt weighted down. The long walk to the edge of his fate was more than his mind was ready to handle.

The silence was painful. However, the annoying reminder that this was his fate would have been worse. He was not sure which he preferred, Amaya's tears or her cold shoulder. In the past two days, he had seen both in abundance. He concluded that they both seemed to masticate his heart to oblivion.

He wondered if she would forgive him for the years that he kept his relationship with their mum's spirit from her. Looking back, he was not entirely sure why he kept their mother to himself. He'd shared everything with his twin. After all, she was his sister, best friend, and confidant. But three days ago, everything had changed and she had become his opposite. His concept of reality had to change with the understanding that he and Amaya wanted to go different directions.

He glanced at her side profile. She stood taller as if two days in the pit had given her a lifetime of maturity and wisdom. Apollo diverted his eyes to the ground and tried to dull the knotted nerves in his stomach.

Then Apollo watched Tereq walking rigid in front of them. Tereq's silence was common. He was the opposite of Ori. Tereq maintained an air of arrogance that concealed centuries of guilt and anger. It showed in his eyes. In the depth of his ice-brown eyes, Apollo knew that Tereq hid a deep, dark secret.

A sudden stop jolted Apollo from his wayward thoughts. Tereq used his hand to invite the twins into a large, empty hollow. Inside, Fatima waited for them. Her red, curly hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck while ringlets draped over her shoulder. Amaya walked in, but Apollo froze. Fatima's white silk gown resembled the one his mother wore each time he saw her. For a brief moment, Apollo, in his exhausted state, felt disoriented and confused. He thought she was his mother.

Tereq pushed him further into the chamber. Apollo narrowed his eyes and glared back at his jail keeper, but kept his momentum moving forward.

Fatima did not speak; instead, she pointed to her right and left where there were two wooden buckets of steaming hot water on the semi-smooth ground. Next to each bucket of water was a bar of soap and clean clothes.

Apollo cocked his head to the side. He did not recall owning a black tunic with white, karate-style pants, but he was grateful for the change of clothes, nonetheless.

With the sudden awareness that his mouth was parched, Apollo kneeled down next to his bucket and cupped his hands under the hot water, scooping out a small puddle that he brought to his mouth. He slurped the water over his chapped lips and let the warmth glide down his throat, soothing his sore esophagus. He had wondered if the vomiting he did had caused the acid from his stomach to irritate his throat. He heard Amaya take in water from her bucket, as well.

No one spoke. Tereq stood by the entrance like a two-headed dog guarding Hell while Fatima gave her best impression of a human mother preparing her babies to take on the world. She tried to show a mix of skepticism, excitement and protective love. But, no matter how hard she tried to be _that_ woman, she was missing one key element . . . pure unfiltered love.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Apollo removed his clothes, still kneeling, nude on the ground, his privates covered by his position in front of his bucket. He splashed water on his body, face, and hair. He ran the bar of soap over the stickiness beneath his underarms and the upper inside of his thighs. In a bold, defiant move, he picked up the bucket and dumped the warm water over his head, letting the warmth massage his muscles as it clung to his pale skin.

Fatima still said nothing when she handed Apollo a towel. He felt numb, going through the motions of what looked like a typical daily routine. He had run the towel over his body and hair before he stepped into his clean clothes. He was finally free from the stench and reminder of the past two days. In an odd way, he felt like a new man.

When he glanced again at his sister, she had just pulled on her tunic and was tying back her wet hair into a ponytail. He realized that the ceremony was one thing, but the wedge between them was an open wound that needed nursing. Apollo took long strides over to her side of the cave and stood in front of her.

"What is it, Apollo?" she whispered.

"As much as I don't want this to happen to either of us, it's a big moment, and we need to put this thing . . . whatever it is . . . behind us."

"I agree."

He audibly exhaled. "So, we're okay then?"

"No."

"But you—"

"I agreed that we needed to put this behind us, but I can't and won't."

"Why?"

"I can forgive you for dragging me into the Sombras' pit. I can forgive you for running out on Papa and me. But, Apollo, how can I forgive you for taking a small slice of heaven and keeping it to yourself? You were selfish enough and self-centered enough to hide the one person who we both lost, yet love. She gave birth to both of us and yet you hid her as if she belonged to you. The wedge between us started the day you knew you could see and talk to our mum and yet, you never told me." Amaya turned to face Fatima.

Apollo felt helpless. His world had all but crashed in on him, and he could barely keep the weight of disappointments from crushing his chest. He took one deep breath, closed his eyes and came to a resolve that this was going to be his new life. He would willingly become a Sanguis. His mother said that fate was already determined. He was inclined, after fighting against fate, to believe her.

Throughout the bathing and the twins' whispered exchange, Fatima and Tereq remained silent, as if holding a vigil. The cave was darker than usual or at least in Apollo's new reality, it seemed that way. Tereq led the twins while Fatima followed behind them. They were escorted into the back entrance of an enormous room.

Apollo swallowed as he looked around at the natural beauty before him. He was not sure what they usually used the room for, but it seemed to fit for a ceremony of any kind.

In front of them was a long aisle. At the far end of the aisle was a long bridge, which spanned a shallow, dry canal. The bridge attached at the other end to an extended ledge, which was obviously the ceremonial area.

The canal below the bridge extended the width of the entire room, separating the ceremonial area from the entrance. The canal contained stalagmites of various sizes that pointed upward. The ceiling, on the other hand, contained many more stalactites, which hung down and pointed to the canal like many chandeliers of stone.

The wall behind and attached to the staging area was rocky and unaltered from its natural state. Apollo admitted to himself that there was a certain indigenous beauty about this one room, compared to the entire vampire cavern. It appeared to be untouched by the hands of an architect. It was a magnificent piece of natural artwork in its rawest form.

Although there were no permanent changes made to the room, Apollo noticed a slab of stone on a pedestal in the middle of the ceremonial area. It reminded him of a sacrificial table or altar that he saw in the book he found in his room, all those years ago.

On either side of the aisle were thirty Sanguis, all facing the ceremonial area. With their backs toward the twins, all of them turned in unison to face them. It was unnerving to both Apollo and Amaya. Apollo realized it had to have been their beating hearts that evoked the entire clan of vampires to turn and look in their direction.

"We're going up front." Tereq motioned to the twins as he started down the aisle.

Apollo glanced to his right and left at the vampires that were in human form. He mused that vampires had a life before their turning, and he wondered what their true feelings were when it came to their rebirth.

To the right of the stone bed and at the end of the stage was a kingly chair. Maximiliano filled the chair with an air of authority, a mixture of pride and malevolence.

His entwined fingers rested on his lap. His beady eyes and sadistic look seemed to follow Apollo wherever he moved. Apollo shivered at the eeriness of the entire room that had a modern, yet barbaric feel. His stomach was in knots.

After escorting the twins to the ceremonial area, Tereq and Fatima walked back across the bridge to stand with Ori and the other vampires. Amaya, Apollo, Nicholas, and Maximiliano faced the vampire audience. The whispered chatter in the crowd quieted down, and the ceremony was about to start.

Apollo felt a sudden, sharp pain in the pit of his stomach. He sensed Sophie's cries. He had not sensed her until that exact moment. She was in trouble, and he was unable to help her. His heart began to race. Panic fed his adrenaline.

Apollo scanned the area across the bridge for Sophie. He searched furiously, his eyes darting to every detail and shadow, every vampire standing or sitting, but he could not see her. He knew she was not dead—he could hear her pleas. Then through the crowd of bloodsucking vermin, he saw her . . . in the grips of Vasco.

Vasco draped his long fingers across her mouth. His arm locked behind her biceps pulling her limbs taut behind her back. The only thing Apollo was able to focus on was her eyes. The horror in her eyes haunted him more than the ceremony he was about to face. He would get her out. In his thoughts, he made her that promise. Then, as if to acknowledge him, Sophie gave him one slight nod.

Nicholas had called attention to his peers. Instant silence filled the room. He turned to his daughter and asked, "Are you ready?"

She nodded, staring up at her father with fearful eyes. The time she had been anxiously waiting for had arrived. She was somber as she soaked in every detail.

Amaya could hear herself breathing. The quick thudding of her heart echoed in the ears of all the Sanguis. Her rapid heartbeat made the vampires squirm with the desire to feed. She took comfort in her father's grin, his proud eyes that stared down at her. He reached out his hand and escorted her to the sacrificial bed of stone. She lay down on her back, anticipating each moment.

Nicholas took his long black fingernail and pierced the side of her neck, the length of her artery. She winced at the pain as warm blood oozed from her neck, giving off an aroma through the room that made some of the vampires restless. Clapping echoed through the cavern in anticipation of their new sister.

Nicholas' fangs extended, and Amaya gasped. She quickly closed her eyes. He leaned over his daughter and sank his teeth into her flesh. He sucked her blood and then exchanged the blood with his venom. He performed the exchange four times before he could hear her heartbeat become lethargic. The restless crowd growled and squirmed as the residual blood poured off the stone bed and drizzled onto the ground. It was almost sadistic to expose the crowd to so much blood but not let them partake.

Instinctual hissing and fangs sprouted throughout the horde of vampires, but no one dared to interrupt. They watched and fought against their craving for blood.

Amaya reached for her chest in pain. The blood in her body was thickening, making the flow painful. Nicholas bit his wrist and fed his daughter the cold blood from his body before her heart completely stopped. If her heart was to stop without vampire blood, Amaya would die rather than be turned.

She drank, gurgled, and sputtered; water would be welcome because this nasty-tasting blood was not what she wanted. Nevertheless, she had to swallow because her father did not stop the flow into her mouth. Amaya moaned as the pain filled her entire body. She did not understand that her blood now had the viscosity of molasses. It was an assault to every blood vessel, muscle, tissue and marrow. Nicholas pulled his arm from her mouth and stepped back to watch her body fight to stay alive.

She convulsed on the table, screaming out in sheer pain. "Father, help me!" she gurgled past the blood that lingered in her mouth. Finally, her beating heart stopped and all movement in her body stopped. Amaya was dead on the table. Her lifeless right arm fell off her chest and swung like a pendulum. The bloody exchange was over. Everyone waited impatiently for a sign of success.

Nicholas's face cracked a grin when Amaya moved her hand. She was reborn. She was now a Sanguis in its vulnerable state. Her body had been through trauma. It would need to rest and build its strength. When she would fully awaken from her vampiric coma, she would thrive with a never-ending hunger. She would drink the blood of whatever she could find.

"My daughter is now one of us." The cheers spread through the entire clan. Nicholas put his hand up to quiet them, so he could continue. "She will be restrained in her new chamber until her hunger pangs and feeding frenzy have dissipated."

Fatima walked across the bridge and picked Amaya up, cradling her. She removed the girl from the altar, walking across the bridge and taking her directly to her new chamber.

Apollo blocked out the commotion. After the nod from Sophie, he kept his thoughts buried in the memories with his mother. He used her love to center himself, to prevent himself from making a wrong move. He had to remain stable and right-minded if he were going to get Sophie out of the room alive. At this point, that was all he cared about. He had tried to save himself, and his sister, but fate had conquered his attempts. One thing he was sure of: Sophie's fate did not include dying by the fangs of vampires.

"Son, are you ready?"

Apollo heard his father say the words, but he stood cemented to the rock beneath his feet. He locked his eyes with the one tangible person he promised to protect. If it were his time to die, he would want her image to be the last he remembered.

Before he realized what was going on, he noticed Sophie was getting closer to him. He broke the intense concentration. Vasco was dragging her across the bridge and to the altar.

"Is this pathetic human the hindrance that's keeping us all in here waiting for you to turn? Why have we kept her alive?"

Apollo knew the sadistic way of Vasco. He would snap her neck before Apollo could get to her. Apollo did not wait for him to finish talking. He unplanted his feet and leapt toward Vasco.

Vasco released the girl to the ground, took both his palms and slammed them into Apollo's chest. Apollo flew back to the edge of the altar, lost his footing and plummeted onto three stalagmites. One went through his left leg while the other two pierced his left side. Apollo, impaled, immediately started coughing up blood.

Shock temporarily paralyzed Nicholas. He heard the crowd get riled up, but he could not move. He watched his son twitch on the stalagmites.

Tereq leaped across the canal, reached down and grabbed Apollo by his shirt, yanking him up and off the sharp, dagger-like ornaments. His fluid movements moved Apollo onto the ground in front of him. With his fangs extended, Tereq pierced Apollo's neck, releasing venom into his bloodstream. Tereq bit open his wrist and fed Apollo the frigid blood oozing from the wound.

Tereq removed his wrist from Apollo's mouth and watched his body start to convulse. All eyes were glued on Apollo with intensity. Nicholas kneeled down next to his son and grabbed his hand, hoping Tereq had got to him fast enough. He was not ready to lose his son to death—at least, not permanent death.

Once Apollo stabilized, Nicholas listened for his slowing heartbeat and labored breathing. Apollo was silent, unable to find the strength he needed to scream out in pain. His body felt like it was on fire and ready to explode.

Then he stopped convulsing. His heart stopped beating. He was lying on the cold ground, lifeless. Apollo was dead. Everyone waited for the inevitable sign. Either he would move and be reborn, or he would not because Tereq did not get to him in time.

Utter silence fell over the clan. Even Maximiliano had stood to witness the moment. Seconds felt like endless hours. Finally, Apollo's finger twitched. Spontaneously, his fingernails grew. When he took a long drawn in breath, the crowd thundered in cheers. His eyes remained closed, but he could hear and sense his surroundings.

Tereq stood, glaring down at the new Sanguis. "I wasn't going to let you get out of it that easy. None of us had that choice; it was taken from us. Now you're one of us and you'll get to stew over the things you spend centuries doing. Just like the rest of us." Tereq turned and walked across the bridge.

There was an unusual mixture of pride amongst the Sanguis in the triumph of adding to their ranks. There was also a form of relief that they will no longer be tortured by knowing that perfectly edible food was always around, but forbidden. The mental, emotional, and physical anguish was finally over.

Maximiliano turned to Vasco, and said, "You may take the girl and feed her to Amaya when she awakens."

Apollo's eyes flew open. The crowd gasped when they saw him leap to his feet and then jump to the stone bed in one flawless movement. His face was distorted, his veins bulging, his eyes completely black. In another shocking turn of events, the new vampire was not in the coma that was typical of turning. Instead, he was awake and strong, his body language stating he was ready to take on his brethren beasts.

Nicholas turned and backed away from his son, realizing there was something horribly wrong. Apollo had the same strength that Nicholas had after he was first turned—the strength of adrenaline fueled by the need to protect. Nicholas had needed to protect his babies eighteen years ago, and now Apollo needed to protect Sophie. But it was not his strength—still untested and power yet unknown—that scared his father; rather, it was the speed and the degree to which he had changed.

"Apollo, stop," Nicholas demanded.

"Out of my way," he growled.

Maximiliano held up his hand to restrain Apollo from moving off the stone bed. When Apollo jumped off the bed against his leader's powers and landed on the ground, Maximiliano's fangs extended and his wings protruded. Vasco put up his hand to his leader, holding him back, so that he could take on the new vampire. Max gave Vasco a quick nod of approval.

"You are defying our leader, son; they'll kill you. Stand down, right now! Stand down!" Nicholas demanded.

Apollo's fierce eyes bore into his father as he rushed toward him, pinning him against the wall. "Don't you dare tell me to stand down."

Before Nicholas had much time to soak in the odd changes to his son's face and the fierce fangs that sprouted from his upper and lower jaw, Apollo grabbed his father by the arm, swung him around, and released him like an Olympic hammer thrower.

Nicholas did not travel through the air in an arc, only to fall upon the floor. Instead, he sailed in a straight line, forcefully smacking the far wall and creating an avalanche of stone and debris. He laid there dazed from the impact. As stunned as he was, Nicholas marveled at his son's incredible strength.

Vasco would not let this fledgling aberration take over. He immediately ran toward Apollo and pinned him by the neck against the wall. "You fool. How strong do you think you can be, having just been turned?"

Apollo's transformation was an anomaly. He manifested physical signs of an advanced elder—a hybrid of sorts. His eyes were entirely black, and his facial skin displayed veiny traces of translucency. He bore the expected upper pair of fangs and an unusual pair of double lower fangs. The sides of his muscular body already displayed stretch marks of developing elder's wings. He was brute strength personified.

His senses were unbelievably keen. His body was the masterpiece of devastation. He could hear everything and everyone around him. But what was the ringing in his ears? In an instant, he realized it was Sophie's heartbeat.

The cacophonies of sounds around him overwhelmed his senses, but were also the energy that gave him strength. He growled as he pushed Vasco, flinging him to the ground with utter ease.

From the humiliating position on the floor, Vasco's eyes widened as he realized that Apollo's strength was far greater than his own. He instantly jumped up and pushed back against Apollo, but he was no match. The warrior could not stop the boy from pushing him around like a toy.

Apollo slashed Vasco across the face and shoved him to the side, sending him flying through the air like a rag doll. Vasco crashed against the cave's wall, and for the first time in centuries, was semiconscious from an opponent's blow.

_I don't believe it._ Maximiliano froze in awe, amazed at Apollo's transformation. He admired his strength and the premature physical traits that only elders developed through the ages. He was aroused to see how much power and destruction he was able to carry out in so little time. He wanted that power. He _needed_ that power.

The attending clan members quickly assembled in attack formation against Apollo.

"Don't hurt him. Let him go," Max commanded.

Apollo stared at the bewildered crowd. He instantly swooped over to Sophie and tucked her under his arm. He defiantly strode past Maximiliano, over the bridge, past the clan members, and out of the room. As he started through the corridors, he picked up speed.

Sophie had fainted in his arms, but he had barely noticed. He had one mission: to get them both out of the cave safely. As he effortlessly navigated the maze of corridors, the beating of her heart drove him mad.

## -13-

**Apollo dashed through** the underground maze as if he had lived there his entire life. His heightened senses were giving him a new perspective of the world around him. Although it was dark, his surroundings were as bright as day. He could smell the musty scent of the cave floor, and the sounds around him were a chaotic mess.

Apollo's senses were spiraling out of control. His movements felt uncoordinated, yet he could navigate through the corridors with speed and accuracy. There was a sense of knowing and understanding—knowledge of the vampire race. When the poison that Tereq released into his bloodstream stole his life, it also left behind reminiscence of Tereq's knowledge. He could feel himself gaining mental strength.

What scared him the most was the extent of his physical abilities. He could feel the power traverse through every fiber of his being. A metamorphosis invaded his body one molecule at a time until it felt as if his whole body was on fire.

With each passing second, he could feel his muscles growing stronger, his body becoming leaner and his senses keener. But with each new change with which he wanted to come to terms, he struggled with other changes.

The hunger pangs in his stomach felt like a razor blade trying to escape through his abdomen, the echoing of Sophie's heartbeat rung in his ears like the repetitious thud of a bass drum, and the delectable smell of her blood induced his saliva glands. He could not understand the physical yearning his body demanded. His desire did not settle with blood, he wanted to sink his teeth into flesh—flesh of any kind.

Apollo was aware of his senses, but he feared that his strength to control himself would lose during the first stages of this new life. What if he were not strong enough to dull the sound of Sophie's pounding heart, or curb his innate desire to drink her blood or gnaw on her flesh? Being confused and frustrated added to his insatiable need to feast.

His father had warned him that he might lose control. His father was right. He was weak-minded with saintly intentions. At all costs, he wanted to protect the girl. He wanted to keep her out of the grips of those who might see her as food rather than the benevolent soul that she was.

He realized she might have been safer if she were further away from him. He knew he teetered on the edge of unpredictable. His desire to free her from the cave had the same relevance as allowing himself one taste of her sweet smelling blood. His instability enticed him to taste her blood just once.

Apollo's strength and weakness were fighting each other while he continued his escape through the labyrinth of the cave walls.

He could hear her blood cells rushing through her veins like the white noise of a stream of water slapping against deep-seated rocks. Her blood was an orchestra of instruments. Her heartbeat thudded against her chest while the wisp of blood cells swam through a stream of plasma, and the delicate singsong of blood that replenished her organs was a comforting melody. He could hear it all. His stomach, fangs and watering mouth went into a frenzy of desire, need and desperation.

He ran through the entrance of the cave and into the cool air. He did not slow his momentum when he leaped over the cluster of bushes. The frigid air splashed against his warm skin, giving him a momentary separation from his instinct to devour the woman he was trying to protect.

With the cleansing clarity of the night air, Apollo realized that anger alone was going to keep him from hurting Sophie. He was livid with his father for putting him in this situation. He despised Ori and Tereq for not allowing him to escape when he had the chance. But, it was the intense disappointment toward Amaya that fueled his anger. How could she want to embrace this life? His family had lied; his human life was a lie.

He picked up his speed, jumped over the top of mammoth boulders and landed safely to the ground. He had kept Sophie protected in the cocoon of his arms. He stopped and looked back at the boulders. He was shocked that his seemingly awkward body was able to move with such agility and strength.

Without any further hesitation, Apollo ran, at blinding speed, deep into the forest. His childhood memories raced through his mind like a silent movie depicting the faces of those who he loved. When the mental images of his past had stopped, so did his run.

He scooped up dried leaves on the ground into a soft bed and laid Sophie down. His hand cupped the back of her head as he gently laid her on the bed of leaves.

He stood over her, staring down at her angelic face. He listened to the rhythm of her heart while he closed his eyes. He hoped to train himself to block out the sounds that enticed him so. His father had done it; he knew he could do it, too.

But, on this first night as a vampire, it was more than he could handle. His eyes flew open, his fangs extended, his nails grew long and sharp, and he instantly became the predator that they had made of him. He had two choices: leave, or feed on her. One way or another, he needed to eat. He ran from her, as far away as he needed to go to find his first meal.

Swiftly, Apollo ran for miles in order to release himself from the grip of Sophie's scent and the sound of her heartbeat. But he was cognizant to keep her calm aura in his heightened senses. If her atmosphere was disrupted, he would sense it and be at her side within seconds.

He needed to feed. So, he tuned into another heartbeat within his vicinity. He moved toward the echo. He stood to the side of an elk. His instincts to feed were natural. In his full vampire glory, Apollo gripped the animal around its thick neck and used his teeth to pierce its flesh and veins.

The blood of the beast released into his fangs, sending the warm fluid through Apollo's veins and into the core of his body. His shrunken esophagus opened and his internal organs became invigorated as the warm blood coated them with satisfaction. He felt the haunting emptiness of his stomach dissipate, and the numbness of his cloudy mind clear.

When Apollo finished feasting on the animal, it fell to the ground, nearly decapitated. He realized that his strength increased during feeding, and he noticed that he had eaten a large chunk from the animal's neck and shoulder area.

_What have I become?_ He stood over the carcass and studied his bloody hands in disgust. He could not believe how effortless it was for him to have done so much damage. He put his hand on his face and patted his features hoping to recognize the feel of them. His eyebrows frowned when he discovered his protruding canines. First, he felt his upper canines, then the lower ones. He palpated his muscular body, starting with his chest, his shoulders and down to his arms and thighs.

He became concerned when he noticed his body had a small, bony ridge above each shoulder blade that ran down the sides of his ribs. In a panic, he pulled open his trousers to check his penis. Then, he let out a sigh of relief.

He could smell the blood that had soaked into his clothes and began to dry on his face. He grabbed handfuls of pine needles off the ground and rubbed them over his body, clothes and face. He was able to remove some of the blood but not all of it. He needed to wash away the filth and disgust of this beast he had become.

Within seconds, he stood near a stream that traveled through the lower half of the forest. He leaned over to splash water on his face. Startled, he stopped when he saw his reflection staring back at him. Apollo gazed at the mirrored image from the moonlight in the stillness of the water. He felt his eyes fill with unshed tears. The liquid mirror gave him a visual of a single tear making its slide down his face. He slammed his hand into the water, knelt and sobbed into his palms.

***

Apollo stood in the shadows while Sophie woke. He kept himself concealed by the night. He made sure that his features had returned to normal. The last thing he wanted was to traumatize Sophie any more than she had already been. When he saw her stand, he moved slowly into the moonlight.

Sophie glanced around her. When she saw the silhouette of a person standing in a distance, she knew it was Apollo. The fear in her eyes made him leap back and out of the moon's light, cowering into the shadows.

"Stay away from me," she said, panicked. She scurried back on the boulder and fell off, pushing herself up to run and hide behind a tree.

"It's okay, Sophie, it's okay. I won't hurt you."

"How do I know you won't hurt me? You're one of them. You're one of the things that attacked my parents and my little sister."

"I'm not like them."

"You _are_ like them. I saw what happened to you. I saw that vampire bite you and turn you into one of them. You are a vampire. Oh God, Apollo, please don't kill me."

Apollo felt disoriented. He wanted her to feel safe in his presence, but he was not sure how to make that happen. "Why didn't Tereq let me die?" he whispered. He would have rather died as a human than live as a vampire. "Sophie, please . . . I promise I won't come any closer to you if you don't want me to, but please, don't be scared of me."

Sophie moved to the other side of the tree trunk where she could see Apollo's silhouette. "Do you look . . . like you?" Her voice quivered when she asked.

"I look like me right now. It seems I only change when I'm hungry, but I don't know, maybe I change at other times, too. This is new to me. I can assure you, I'm the same Apollo who you first met."

Apollo stepped into the moonlight. His hair was a deeper shade of red, his eyes were smoky black, and his features were well-defined. His body was slightly larger, but he looked normal—he looked like a stronger version of the Apollo she knew.

She glared at him from the tree, wishing for a moment that she were invisible. "Do you want to hurt me?" She needed to know.

"No, of course I don't want to hurt you."

" _Did_ you want to hurt me?"

"If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it by now."

"But you didn't. Instead, you got me out of that place," she whispered.

"Yes. I made you a promise that I will keep." He could hear her escalated breathing, with her emotional conflict. He sensed fear in her voice and body language. "It's still me, Sophie. I could go back to wearing mud on my face if that will make you comfortable around me again."

Her lips twitched into a slight grin. She hesitantly moved away from the tree and inched toward him. When she was standing in front of him, she felt some comfort in his familiar appearance. He seemed the same.

She reached up and rubbed the side of his neck where Tereq had bit him. The wound was gone. Then she looked at his dirty shirt. She had seen him land on the spikes that filled the canal, but the wounds there were gone, as well. The rips in his shirt were still there, but the wounds had healed. Her fingers lingered on his skin while her heart raced out of control.

Apollo closed his eyes. Her touch was soft and warm. He held his breath while her fingers hesitated on his skin. He could feel her essence in her fingertips.

"You're really warm," she whispered. "They hurt you. I watched them hurt you." She removed her fingers, and Apollo's eyes flew open.

Where his eyes were once brown, they were now smoky black. He swallowed. "I could feel the poison attack every part of my body. But when I was reborn, I felt strong, fearless, angry and hungry." He hesitated, "But I'm okay now, and you're safe."

She walked toward the boulder and sat down. "I'm not safe, Apollo. I'm right back where I started, and I still don't have my family."

"I know. But right now, we have to get out of the woods and find shelter."

"I know, but I'm too tired to run."

He walked over and leaned down to pick her up, cradling her in his arms. He was aware that she lay in his arms unlike his attempt to get her out of the cave where his mind was a babbling mess. She felt lighter than she did when he picked her up and held her in his lap, two nights prior. He knew it was not that she was lighter; it was that he was stronger—much, much stronger. But, this time he fought the thirst for her blood.

## -14-

**Nicholas stood perfectly** still in Maximiliano's lair, waiting for him to arrive. He stood in front of the empty throne with his thick legs slightly apart, and his fingers intertwined behind his back. He was in human form, standing in his ceremonial garb, tall and prideful. His children were now part of the Sanguis clan, and that alone gave him an abundance of pride and relief.

At this moment, however, he also fought to conceal his nervousness and fear for the unknown. He took a deep breath to prepare himself for Maximiliano and the questions he realized he would have to answer—answers he was not sure he could provide.

He replayed the ceremony in his mind. He thought about his bold son as a human attempting to thwart Vasco in order to save the girl. Nicholas realized that his son was naive to think he could take down a vampire with his bare hands. It was nothing for Vasco to extend his arms and send Apollo flying backward into the canal. Apollo was lucky that Vasco did not kill him. How could Vasco know that Apollo would end up in the canal, impaled by stalagmites? The whole ceremony was a catastrophe, but the result was the same: his children were no longer human and both reborn.

Amaya's turning went as he had expected. Her reaction to his poison and initial coma state of recovery was normal. However, Apollo's close encounter with death and Tereq's intervention had left a bitter taste in Nicholas's mouth.

He repeatedly relived the events in his mind. Nicholas wanted to be the vampire that turned his son. He wanted his son to have his memories and his overall essence. Then there was Apollo's transformation. It was an anomaly, which baffled Nicholas.

Apollo's initial strength was abnormal. His speed was unnaturally elevated. Those two things enabled Apollo to do to Vasco what no one has ever done: take him down.

Nicholas cracked a slight grin, reliving the moment when Apollo's pure muscle overpowered Vasco's influence. Nicholas knew, by the look on Vasco's face, that he was not only angry, but also determined to get answers.

Above all, there was something even more absurd—something that made Nicholas feel uneasy. Apollo's upper _and_ lower fangs and his uncanny scent.

Nicholas could not help but wonder about those two rare things. _I've never heard of a vampire with four fangs. Why does he have lower jaw fangs? And his scent—I hope no one else noticed. Was it because of Tereq's bite? No, it couldn't have been; Tereq smells like us. What was it? Why is my son so different? Why is he stronger than us?_ Nicholas tossed questions around in his mind while he waited for Maximiliano to arrive.

Max threw open his lair door and entered the room. He stormed up the few carved stairs that led to his throne. Anger, for many reasons, beleaguered the moment. Maximiliano turned and faced Nicholas, his beady eyes glaring at him. But it was Max's anxious demeanor that made Nicholas feel more uptight than he already was.

When Maximiliano spoke, his words were crisp and deliberately slow. "Why did a ceremony that I allowed you to perform—" he slammed his fist down on the marble pillar where he stood "—turn into a circus?"

"My son . . ."

"Your son is not one of us!"

"Of course he is; you saw him turned . . ."

"I saw Tereq turn him, but what was he turned into?"

"A vampire, of course."

"One of us?" Max circled around the inside of the pedestal throne where he addressed his subordinates. "You're right. He should have been turned into one of us. That was the plan. But, we both know, that's not what happened."

Nicholas shifted uncomfortably. His fingers still locked together behind his back. Vasco was standing to his right. Nicholas could feel Vasco's eyes staring at his uneasy behavior.

Max stopped pacing and stood perfectly still. His black suit-style coat buttoned once in front. He narrowed his eyes while his hands were as still as a statue, intertwined in front of his chest. "What did you give your son?"

"Give him?"

"Your specialty is blood. What did you give him to induce the strength of an elder, the speed of a superior?" Before Nicholas could speak, Max left his throne and stood in front of him.

He leaned into Nicholas, saliva stringing from his upper and lower teeth. Slowly and meticulously he asked, "What did you give your son that would allow him to move, look, and smell different?"

Nicholas leaned back. _Max had noticed._ Nicholas felt the panic in his gut. He wanted those answers, too. "I gave my son nothing. I'm just as mystified as you are."

"I know his adrenaline was driving through his veins. He was determined to save the human girl. _But_ , he is different." Max turned around and locked his fingers behind his back as he strolled back toward his throne. "You are going to find out _why_ he is different and what he is capable of doing. I want to know how strong he really is, how fast he can be."

"I _will_ find him."

"Don't just find him, experiment on him. He may be the key. He may be the exact thing you need to finish the serum."

Nicholas nodded.

"And you," Maximiliano glared at Vasco. "You let Apollo get past you. That newborn vampire could have killed any of us."

"I tried to stop him, but his strength was far greater than mine."

"I want you to assist Nicholas in finding his son. I don't want anything to go wrong. We cannot have Apollo running around Stockwood as a hungry, bloodthirsty beast. He'll draw attention to us."

Vasco did not hesitate to come up with a solution. "I'll assemble a team to bring him back."

"Take Ori with you. The three of you should be enough. I don't want anything to go wrong. And Vasco, bring Apollo back alive," Max demanded.

"Alive?" Vasco asked.

"Yes, alive," Nicholas said, emphasizing his son's well-being.

"Maximiliano, how am I to _subdue_ him? You saw how strong he was."

"I suggest you use your imagination. Capture the human that he has taken a liking to, and he will follow."

Vasco nodded.

"Nicholas, when you have the serum completed, you'll need a subject to test it on," Max said.

"I will run the serum through a Sombra."

"No. You will test the serum on Amaya. So, you had better make sure it works. If everything works out right, she will be the first of my long-awaited new race of vampires. Understand?"

Nicholas could feel anger race through his veins. His eyes turned black, his nails grew, and his fangs began to descend. It took everything in him to suppress his anger toward Max. He would never use his daughter as a scientific experiment.

"Do you have a problem with my orders?"

"No, of course not." Nicholas quickly returned to his human form.

"I didn't think so."

_Once we know the serum works, I will finally have the last thing I need to complete my army and use them for my victory against that bastard, the once so-called King of Spain,_ Max thought to himself.

## -15-

**Apollo knew they** were running out of time. He needed to find shelter for them, and fast. Not only did he need a place where they could hide, he also needed somewhere he could go that would keep himself out of the sun. Time was not on their side with mere hours until that ball of fire would peek over the horizon.

He searched the mountain's gaps and crevices. He hoped to find a small cave that they could use until nightfall when he could search again. But, the mountain did not reveal anything deep enough for them to use.

Finally, Apollo spotted an old, decrepit house on a flat ledge of the mountain. The average person could not have noticed that there was actually an abandoned home buried beneath the grip of ivy leaves and a heap of rubbish. In Apollo's eyes, it was a grand palace. He did not know how long they would need to hide. So, he needed shelter that would shield him from the element that he learned could destroy him—the sun.

Apollo cradled Sophie in his arms. Not only did he want to keep her warm, he knew they would move much faster at his speed then the speed of a human. He set her down, and asked her to stay there while he walked around the house to determine if it would be adequate protection for them. He approached the small house with caution.

Apollo noticed that the ivy had wrapped itself around the house so tight that the windows and doors were sealed shut. He tore the vines off a window in the back of the home, and used his fist to break the glass. The jagged edges of the window's glass sliced and cut his hand open. Blood dripped down the side of his arm, giving him the wet sensation that caught his attention. He was amazed to see his slashes heal themselves immediately before his eyes.

"Oh man, that's cool," he murmured to himself. He was so surprised at his body's new ability; he continued to clear the glass carelessly. Once he had cleared the window for Sophie's passage, he climbed through and landed on a pile of old, dirty clothes. His heightened vision allowed him to see through the darkness of the home with ease.

He searched all the rooms in the house. He wanted to make sure it was safe before he brought Sophie inside. More than anything he wanted to get them settled before the sun rose. Once the sky turned from dark to light, he would have no choice but to stay inside.

When the house was clear, he went back outside and caught Sophie looking around impatiently.

"You found a way in?" she asked.

"I pulled off the ivy over a window. We can climb through to get inside." Apollo grabbed Sophie's hand and led her to the back of the house toward the broken window.

"Can you just pull off the ivy from the front door?"

"No, it's better if the house looks sealed from the outside. If we only have to worry about this one window, it will be easier."

"So, it's true what they say about the sun and vampires?" Sophie asked.

"Unfortunately, yes. There's something in the sun's rays that incinerates my kind." He paused right after having pronounced his last words. He was surprised to have said, 'my kind' so casually. They both looked into each other's eyes and shared a concordant glare. "I am, what I am Sophie. I have to accept it or I will destroy myself. And if I do that, how will I protect you?"

Her lips twitched into an understanding grin.

"Let's go inside." He carried her to their hidden entrance and helped her through the window. It was too dark for her to see anything, so she waited for Apollo to join her inside. When he stood next to her, he wrapped her hand into the crook of his arm and started walking her through the abandoned house.

"I can't see anything, Apollo. Don't walk so fast."

"I have you. Don't worry, I won't let you go."

"It smells in here. It smells like wet dirt and an old library," she whispered.

Apollo led Sophie from the bedroom into the living room. "Maybe you can take me to one of those old libraries some time. I love to read."

"I would love to, but we can't be locked away in a rotting house—ouch." She tripped over something protruding from the floor.

"Are you okay?"

"No, I hurt my foot. What was that?" she asked.

Apollo saw the metal handle that stood out from the living room hardwood floor. He pulled on the handle, and a door opened in the floor.

"What is it?" Sophie asked when she heard the creaking sound.

"It's a door that leads to some kind of underground room."

Sophie could not help but smile. "It's probably a basement."

"Wait here, I'll be right back," Apollo said.

Before she could respond, he had jumped straight down into the hole and landed silently at the bottom.

"Be safe." She could hear him shuffle through things and open and close cabinets. "What's going on down there?" she yelled out.

"There's a lot of things down here we could use. I even found some candles and matches." Apollo jumped back up through the hole and landed quietly in the room.

"Great, bring up the candles so I can get some light in here," she yelled out to him again, not realizing he was already back at her side.

He watched her in the dark for a moment. He stood there in silence under the invisibility of darkness and admired her. She was the epitome of beauty and grace. Although she was dirty, and her hair was matted, Apollo could not help but stare at her features.

Finally, he made a shuffling noise to let her know he was back in the room with her. Out of nowhere, a comet-like streak flashed before her eyes. Apollo had ignited a match and lit one of the candles.

Sophie sighed in relief that she could finally see her surroundings. "By any chance, did you find any food down there? I'm hungry. I don't remember the last time I ate something."

"Nope—no food. There might be some cans of food in the kitchen. Although I'm not sure I would trust the date on anything in this place. How about I hunt and cook something for you?"

"You can cook?"

"Of course I can. We grew up hunting our own meals. I'm really good at it, too. The other day, I brought down an elk with a two-arrow shot."

"Do you think there is somewhere I can wash up? I know I'm pretty dirty," she said.

"I saw a stream nearby. You can wash up there. Wait here." He walked back to the basement door and dropped through the opening. Within seconds, he had jumped back up to the main house with a towel and a shirt.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing at the contents in his arms.

"There's an old trunk in the basement with female clothes. They may be dusty and old, but they have to be cleaner than what you're wearing now."

Sophie nodded.

They climbed out the window. Without hesitation, Apollo scooped Sophie into his arms. For a moment, he got lost in her sweet, brown eyes.

"You're so warm," she whispered.

He smiled and ran swiftly to the stream. When they arrived, Apollo placed her down on a rock, just in front of the running water.

Where she sat, the water was shallow and extremely cold. She got down on her knees and leaned over the stream. She cupped her hands and dragged the ice-cold water to her lips. She tried to sip, but the freezing temperature of the water quickly numbed her hands. Her hands ached and throbbed from the frigid water. Her body shivered, and her teeth began to chatter. "I can't w-wash my face in this water. It's t-too cold."

Apollo sat down at her side. He motioned for her to sit down on the boulder while he wrapped his arms around her and engulfed her in the cocoon of his hug. He felt her body temperature rise.

"It's important that you drink some water. Let me help you." He used both his hands and reached into the water, creating a cup within the palm of his hands. He held the water for a moment.

Sophie just stared at him with a confused look on her face. He motioned her to approach him, then he brought his cupped hands to her lips and let the water drizzle into her mouth.

Sophie looked at Apollo shocked. "The water's not as cold anymore."

Apollo said nothing. All he cared about was protecting her and taking care of her. Her smile was his reward. He needed her to know that she was safe and protected when he was there. He lifted another scoop of water with his hands. He waited, and then he let her soft lips drink. He hesitated before he continued. He realized he was feeling things he had never felt before.

Sophie's hair hung over the front of her shoulders. Apollo's large hands moved her hair away from her face. He dipped one hand in the water and rubbed his warm wet hand from her forehead down the side of her face.

Sophie basked in the warmth of his touch. She never hinted resistance. She was completely submissive. She closed her eyes, her lips parted and she leaned in as an invitation for him to continue.

Apollo warmed the water in his hand and ran it down her face on both sides. The water began to melt away the grime of the past couple of days. He heard her heart speed up each time his hand touched her skin. He was aware of all her senses and he memorized every imperfection and perfection in the details of her beautiful face. This sensational feeling that he never knew existed mesmerized him.

Sophie did not realize that she had inched toward him. She wanted to feel him closer. She needed to feel the warmth and protection that she felt each time his hand stroked her face.

Before Apollo realized it, he had run his hand down her neck. He wanted to remove any trace of evidence that the last two days had left behind. He used the towel and blotted at the dirt that melted into muddy water and ran down between her breasts. His hand stroked behind her ear and over her matted hair.

When he felt her face and neck were clean, he removed the shirt that he had placed against his stomach to keep it warm. "Here," his voice was rough and raspy as he spoke. "You should put this on."

Sophie slowly opened her eyes. She ran her tongue across her dried lips and swallowed back her trembling desire. She let out the breath of air she had been holding in while his hands had touched her skin. She wished he had not stopped. She was in a moment of tranquility and peace—a moment she did not expect from the creature Apollo had become.

Apollo turned his back so that she could remove her shirt. He could tell her hands trembled not only because of the cold, but also because of her nervous desire for him. He could hear her fumbling with the buttons on her blouse. In the best interest of her quick change, he turned to face her and he put his steady hands over her trembling fingers. "It's okay," he whispered.

In the warmth of his hands, she felt a calm spread through her body. Then she felt him release one button at a time from her blouse. He worked from the top and made his way down her blouse to the last button at the bottom. He never took his eyes from hers.

Apollo wanted to kiss her. He wanted to touch her soft, flawless skin. Her round breasts peeked through the opening of her shirt and although he tried not to look, he caught a glimpse and quickly turned his back.

"I still have to get us food."

Sophie quickly removed her blouse and threw the shirt, which was a size too big, over her head. As soon as she was done, Apollo turned to her and opened his arms. Without contemplation, she stepped into his arms and he embraced her, pressing his lips against the top of her head. He took off, running with her tucked into his embrace.

***

Once at the basement, he made her bed next to the recliner where he tilted back. He welcomed the rest that would replenish his body. He made sure she was comfortable before he went in search of their meal.

She realized how dependent she could become on his tenderness. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep and he had yet to return. Falling into a peaceful slumber opened the door for her mind to relive her recent traumatizing experiences in a nightmare. Her mind replayed Vasco's fangs puncturing her neck. Blood gushed from the wound and filled a bathtub where she stood nude. She wanted out of the tub before she drowned on her own blood, but she could not move. Ivy leaves were wrapping around her body, confining her to the bathtub.

Then, her nightmare pushed forward to her imprisonment in the cave. She was alone in a dirty room and they left her there with no food or water. She could feel her scratchy throat catch fire and while she panicked, a creature from the shadows gave her water. The flashes of the creature's bony fingers replayed like a broken record in her sleep. When those bony fingers ran its nails across the rock floor, Sophie woke up screaming.

Apollo did not ask her what was wrong. He had returned empty-handed when he felt her inner distress. She woke up with his arms around her. He rubbed his hand over her hair.

"I had a nightmare." Her voice was barely audible.

"You're with me, and I won't let anything happen to you."

"I should have been there for my family, Apollo. It's my fault that they're dead."

"It's not your fault. Don't say that."

"I had asked my dad to stop so I could, well, you know, use the restroom out in the forest. They were attacked and there was nothing I could do but watch."

"If I were there, I would have wanted to protect them, too. I don't want you to think about it. Just take this one night and let your mind go to a happier place. Will you do that for me?"

She nodded. "Apollo?"

"Yes, Sophie."

"I should go back to Montana."

Apollo pulled her closer to him, kissed the top of her head and whispered, "We'll talk about it in the morning."

## -16-

"I can't believe it, Fatima." Amaya was thrilled over her newfound strength. Each large boulder she tossed under the full moon traveled farther and higher with each effortless attempt. She could not believe how strong she had become from one day to the next. _If only Papa could see me do this_.

Her newly developed strength did not reveal any difference in appearance. She still had the thin arms of an eighteen-year-old, but that did not keep her from proudly flexing her feminine biceps in amazement. She looked in all directions, eager to find a bigger boulder to toss in order to test how far she could throw it.

Fatima looked on, amused by Amaya's enthusiastic beginning. Over one hundred years ago, Fatima had experienced a poisonous bite that turned her into a confused vampire. When she had felt the changes, she'd fled from her husband and son, scared of the insatiable monster that lurked within her. She'd never had the luxury of feeling the excitement that Amaya now experienced.

Fatima pulled her red hair back tight into a single ponytail before she trained Amaya. She had one goal and that was to make Amaya aware of her abilities, and help her hone her senses.

"Amaya, like I told you in the cave, not only will your abilities sharpen with time, they will also enhance when you transform. Why don't you try it? Push yourself a bit further and attempt to bring out your features on command."

"Enhanced? You mean I can be stronger if I transform into a vampire? Do you think I can do it? Please, show me how, Fatima."

"You already felt your instinctual transformation when you fed. But, your features are also triggered when your emotions intensify, so try to focus on something and allow it to consume your body. Let the adrenaline flow freely so that it may take you to the next level. Go on, try it. Show me your fangs."

"Yes, Amaya, show _us_ your fangs," Maximiliano's deep voice echoed through the forest. He appeared between them without warning. He was an elder who was so fast, it was as if he were a phantom that had materialized out of nowhere.

Fatima noticed him first. She bowed, acknowledging his unexpected visit. Amaya was too surprised for an immediate reaction. But, she quickly realized the importance of his presence and followed Fatima's example. Amaya diverted her eyes down and bowed to her leader.

Maximiliano put his hand on Amaya's shoulder. "How is our new member adjusting to her new life, Fatima?"

"She woke up with the typical voracious hunger, and she fed without _any_ hesitation."

Max turned his attention back to Amaya. With his cold fingers still gripping her shoulder, he put his best attempt forward to come across warmly. "Welcome to the Sanguis family."

"Thank you, Sire." Amaya's gaze still focused toward the rocky ground. She would not look up out of respect—a new, profound respect she felt she needed to display.

"Amaya, I know you wish your father could have been there to see your first awakening as one of us. Unfortunately, I had to send him to search for your rebellious brother once again. We're your family now. Loyalty and secrecy is essential to our survival. As a leader, it is my responsibility to protect you. I cannot and will not risk your life, your father's or any Sanguis life over your brother's child-like fits."

Amaya cringed at his words. That was her brother he spoke of, and his actions had embarrassed her. She took a deep breath and mustered the courage to look him in the eyes. "I'm not like my brother. I won't disappoint you."

Amaya's words replaced the usual deadpan expression on Maximiliano's face with a rare grin. Her spunk pleased him. He admired her bold ability to speak her mind.

She felt at ease to see his pleased reaction. "I'm sorry—my brother doesn't understand the importance of family or loyalty to the Sanguis, but I do."

"Good. I'm glad to see that my instincts about you were right. I'll allow you to continue your training, but before I leave, show me your fangs."

Amaya and Fatima locked eyes with each other. Fatima could tell Amaya was nervous to perform in front of Max. In a sudden attempt to encourage Amaya, Fatima spoke. "We were just about to try. Remember what I told you, Amaya. Just focus."

Amaya did not want to disappoint Max. She took a long, deep breath and exhaled even slower. She closed her blue eyes and focused, hoping to open them with the color black in full vampire glory. She concentrated. She focused on feeling the slight discomfort under her nose from her new fangs, but nothing happened. Each second that passed was like an added brick on a growing wall of self-doubt.

She knew Maximiliano was impatient. Amaya struggled to focus but had no sign of darkening eyes or fang protrusion. The longer she took, the heavier his presence weighed.

"Allow me to help you," he offered.

Before she could respond, he reached out and grabbed her by the throat. He put just enough pressure to limit her breathing. Amaya desperately gasped for air. She did not dare attempt to fight him off. She tried rolling her eyes toward Fatima, hoping she would intervene, but his grip was solid. Fatima could only watch as Amaya flailed her arms in desperation.

Her vampiric facial traits did not take long to manifest. Her eyebrows sharply rigid, the irises of her eyes turned black and a pair of upper canines extended.

While still keeping hold of her neck with one hand, Maximiliano inserted his bony fingers from his other hand into her mouth. He grinned in sadistic pleasure as he meticulously inspected her lower jaw. He hoped to find any clue of lower fangs as Apollo had displayed. Once convinced she was normal and _not_ like the anomaly, her brother was, he let go of her throat, disappointed.

Amaya fell to the ground and gasped for air. She was confused. She could not understand why Max had fingered her mouth as he choked her. She looked toward Fatima for answers, but Fatima had no explanation for her. Fatima was just as confused as she was.

"Our nervous system is not much different from the ephemeral human version. We both have adrenaline rushes in 'fight or flight' situations. Those rushes, along with bone and muscle changes, are what make _us_ what we are, which is why I provoked you. I needed you to feel that rush just before you turn. You may find it challenging to adapt to your new body; but in time, you'll come to appreciate your body's instinctual reflexes." Max glanced at Fatima. "Carry on," he commanded. He disappeared with the same grace in which he had arrived.

"Are you all right?" Fatima asked.

"I'm fine. I know he meant no harm." She stood up, retracting her vampire features. The confused look in her eyes lingered as she cupped her palm over her forehead. "This has happened before," she murmured.

"What are you talking about? He's looked into your mouth before?" Fatima stared at Amaya's discomfort.

"No, I meant this." She circled her finger, pointing at her entire surroundings. "I've been through all of this before."

"Like déjà vu?"

"Déjà who? What's that?" Amaya asked.

Fatima laughed at her innocence. "A _déjà vu_ is the feeling of having experienced something before, although it's the first time that it has been experienced."

"No, this was real. This has happened before. You were standing exactly where you were, and Max grabbed me just as he did. I felt everything. The same feeling before as I did now." Amaya's perplexed look continued while she tried to figure out when she had experienced this. "Wait, I felt the same familiar feelings when I woke up from my vampiric coma."

"Maya, you had a dream. While you were in a coma, your brain began to filter through your human life and your new vampire life. It was either that or Max squeezed your throat too hard," Fatima chuckled.

"Fatima, don't make fun of me. I'm being serious." Amaya was genuinely concerned over that moment. She dismissed it as a vivid nightmare initially, so she kept it to herself. Fatima's playful demeanor convinced her it was nothing to worry about.

"C'mon, Amaya, shake it off. Let's get back to business, we don't have all night. I'll race you to 'the large oak' and back."

The large oak tree was a mile from the rocky location where they trained. That tree was a demarcation during training.

Amaya grinned. "Okay, at the count of three. One, two . . ." Amaya took off before she finished the count.

Fatima shook her head in disbelief. She should have known better. Amaya was always competitive to a fault even if it meant being devious. Fatima chuckled and ran after her.

Fatima was a lot older, hence faster than the adapting learner, Amaya. She ran past Amaya and reached the large oak first. She touched the oak's trunk. She paused, looking back to see Amaya approaching. Fatima was not going to give her a chance to catch her. Without haste, she ran back toward the goal. Suddenly, she stopped when she looked back and saw Amaya holding her forehead again. She ran toward the oak where Amaya stood. "What's wrong?"

"It's happened again. All of this has happened before," she cried. She grabbed Fatima by her forearm and led her from one visualized detail to another. Amaya pulled her as if she were guiding a blind person.

"You see that log over there? I landed in your footprint when I jumped over it. Then I went through the same path you made in the grass and crushed a beetle when I touched this oak tree."

"And?"

"This has happened before, or it's another déjà vu. Even that owl up there on that broken branch was in my previous experience of this."

"It's another déjà vu. You have nothing to worry about. It's a harmless anomaly of memory. Don't be scared."

Amaya inwardly grunted at Fatima's last comment. _Me, scared? Maybe she still thought of me as human._ Amaya wondered why Fatima did not know the difference.

Fear was a shade of darkness that toyed with her as a human—a weak, feeble human. In her new body and stronger mind, she hardly knew what the word meant. Fear was like a sailboat that drifted out to sea. Maybe Fatima had forgotten what fear felt like. "No, I'm not scared. I'm just trying to understand the duplication from my memory to reality."

"You're bleeding." Fatima motioned to the wet ooze on the front of her shirt.

Amaya was too busy to notice the black blood that dripped from her nose down to her chest. She touched her nose and dragged her tongue across her upper lip. She saw the blood on her fingertips and was about to lick them when she felt a sudden, sharp pain in her head. Amaya reached for her head and held it tight as if to keep it from exploding. The excruciating headache forced her down to one knee. Fatima was fast enough to rush in and stop her from falling against the ground.

"What's wrong? What is it?"

Amaya could not speak. Her nose bled over her half-extended fangs while she lay in Fatima's arms, semiconscious.

"Amaya, talk to me." Fatima shook her as if to wake her from a deep sleep.

The pain in Amaya's head was strong enough to paralyze her temporarily. She could hear Fatima calling out to her, but she could not move, could not speak. Finally, the vision released her from its paralytic hold. "I'm okay, I'm fine. Stop yelling in my ear, please. Allow me to get up."

The frantic moment left as fast as it came, leaving behind a shaken Amaya and a worried Fatima. As soon as Amaya stood on her feet, Fatima wiped Amaya's bloody nose with her own black shirt and then embraced her.

"Thanks, I'm okay now."

"What happened? I lost you for a minute."

"One second, I was talking to you, and then all of a sudden, I was struck by something that felt like a lightning bolt. Everything around me disappeared. Then, I saw this image of myself, standing in front of Tereq. He wore a blue plaid button-down shirt and a black beanie. The strange thing was Tereq's face—it was bloody. It felt real. But I was jolted from that moment when I heard you calling my name."

Fatima could not explain Amaya's strange behavior, but she knew Maximiliano's experience could help explain Amaya's condition.

"Amaya, what do you say we walk back to the lair and postpone further training until tomorrow?"

"Okay," she whispered, grateful for the temporary break. Amaya's mind tossed and turned with questions. She needed to know why this was happening to her. Maybe it was normal, and she was worried over nothing. "Did _you_ have nosebleeds? Do you know what's happening to me?"

"No, I didn't have them, and I've never seen this happen to anyone before. Max will know. He's been around for a long time."

"No, Fatima. I don't want him to know. I'm a new vampire. I know I'll improve in time, but I don't want him to think I'm weak or unworthy."

"Amaya, the nosebleeds are not normal. He _needs_ to know."

She hesitated when she whispered under her breath, "Fine."

They started their long, pensive walk toward the lair. For a while, all they heard were crickets, owls, and the rhythm of their march against the cold, damp ground. Fatima was concerned with Amaya's symptoms, but she kept her concerns to herself.

Amaya also had worries of her own, but she could not keep them bottled up. "Fatima, am I going to die?"

Amaya's question stopped Fatima in her tracks. She was surprised, shocked, and amused by her innocence. She fought back a chuckle in her attempt to provide Amaya with an answer.

"Maya, you can't die if you're already dead."

"True," she said, embarrassed.

"Listen to me carefully. A stake through our chest cavity, decapitation, and starvation will destroy our kind. We have a destructive allergic reaction to silver. Last but not least, the sun. Think of our bodies as flammable. Any exposure to the sun's rays, and we incinerate instantly. Remember, we may not die, but we can be destroyed. So, stop worrying about your nosebleeds. Max will have answers."

"Don't say anything, please," she begged. "I need to impress him with my abilities, not make him doubt me."

Fatima understood Amaya's young perspective to feel accepted. She took a few moments to think about it. "Okay, but if your nose bleeds again, I will not hesitate to tell him. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Amaya hugged her with gratitude.

"Hey, you're smiling again. Good. It seems like you feel better. So, what do you say we jog it back to the cavern?"

"Let's go."

Deep in the cave, Fatima and Amaya passed a series of torch-lit tunnels that coincidentally led them into Tereq. His unexpected presence startled them. Both Amaya and Fatima froze. In front of them, Tereq stood as the spitting image of Amaya's earlier vision. From the blood on his face to the clothing he wore, her premonition was precise. Amaya and Fatima looked at each other in shock.

"What's wrong with you two?" he asked.

Fatima remembered Amaya's vision. The descriptions that Amaya provided seemed to loop in Fatima's puzzled mind. _I cannot believe how accurate her vision was. Tereq is wearing the exact style and color beanie. She called out his blue plaid shirt and the blood stains on his face. That last vision was not déjà vu. It was a premonition!_ Fatima thought. "Tereq, why do you have blood on your face?" Fatima asked.

"What can I say? I'm a sloppy eater."

With an instinct panic, Amaya yelled out, "It's happening again, Fatima. My head!"

"Fatima, what's happening to her?" Tereq inquired. Tereq kneeled in an attempt to assist Amaya, but he was not sure how to help. He embraced her, and helped her to the ground while he kept her in his embrace. "She has a nosebleed."

Amaya wrapped her hands around her head while in severe pain. She jerked to her sides in anguish. The agony drove her to her knees. She would have begged for mercy, if she could. But nothing and no one could help her.

"To hell with this, I'm getting Max involved. Tereq, stay with her, I'm going to get Maximiliano. Do you know where he is? Where can I find him?" Fatima asked.

"Last time I saw him, he was at the mountaintop looking for something or someone. Try up there," he said.

Fatima left to find Max while Tereq held Amaya in his arms. He looked at her while he waited for her to recover. She twitched from the pulses in her mind—pulses that eventually subsided.

The pain that stabbed at her brain passed as instantly as it had arrived. Amaya's worst pains might have dissipated, but she came out of it with a sense of panic. She rose from the embraced position she was in and stood on her own two feet.

"Are you okay? Fatima went to get Max," Tereq explained as he rose and stood next to her.

Instinctually, Amaya wiped the blood that dripped from her nose. "I'm fine, but we've got to go."

"We're not going anywhere. Fatima will be right back."

"Tereq, we've got to go. Either you follow me, or I'll leave you here."

"Follow you where?"

"I found him. I know where he is."

"Found who? What are you talking about?"

"I know where to find my brother. I've been having these visions that allow me to see into the future. I'll explain along the way. Let's hurry before Fatima returns. I need to prove myself to Max. I have to show him that I'm a Sanguis, even though my brother has denied his fate.

"I know a part of Max wonders if I will follow in my brother's footsteps. If I capture my brother and turn him in, then Max will know who I pledge my allegiance to."

Tereq loved playing bully. He could not pass up the opportunity to remind Apollo who was Alpha Male. "All right, let's go. Let's make Max proud."

Amaya stared into Tereq's eyes. She did not want her brother to die, but she also knew she had to prove herself more so than she already had. She had the gift of visions—a painful gift that she intended to use to her advantage.

For an instant, a flash of memory ran like a freight train through her mind, reminding her of a time that Apollo took care of her. The memories were there, and then they were gone.

She only hesitated a moment while her human thoughts tried to play tricks on her mind. Without another word, she nodded and took off to bring her brother back to face their leader, no matter what his consequences would be.

## -17-

Apollo stood on a thin pile of leaves on a cliff that overlooked the town. He was awestruck with the incredible dexterity he experienced as he ran to the hilltop where he now stood. He was fast, but realized he was faster when he bent over and used his hands. The unorthodox movements felt natural to him. There was a fluid flow of grace in his movements. He ran with speed, agility, and elegance.

Apollo had run for miles, yet he kept Sophie's essence locked within his senses. He ran until he no longer felt her aura. Then he stopped, and went back just enough until he felt her essence again. He refused to step past that line of demarcation where he lost his ability to feel her—not while he had promised to protect her, anyway.

The hilltop where he now stood was miles from the underground basement where Sophie slept. Apollo was alone, separated by two worlds: the human world and this new world where he was an infant vampire on a quest to learn how to survive. He would have to teach himself all he needed to learn.

Apollo looked out toward the glowing lights of the town and felt an abiding awareness of freedom to be the creature he had become. But he was a vampire that felt stuck between worlds. He was never able to live among the normal human day walkers. The brief, human experience of eighteen years—the one that he had shared with his sister and teacher, Ms. Beasley—was no longer his life. Instead, he would exist in a world where he would lurk through infinite darkness. This was his false freedom, one where he would be eternally bound to darkness.

His red hair moved through the caressing wind and flapped with a playful flow while he gazed out at the scarce lights of the town below. He had his left foot hoisted up on a protruding boulder while both his hands rested in the pockets of his pants. For the first time since his change, he was able to admire things he had never seen or felt before. As a human, he was a prisoner in his own home. Fortunately, he did not realize that at the time.

Now, he was a nocturnal creature who found some refuge in the intensity of Sophie's beating heart. She made him feel connected to the world that he wanted to remain a part of—the world that once made sense to him. But, it was his new world that included Sophie's nightmares of her family and her nonexistent life. Apollo cringed as he remembered her disappointed look, the one time he left to feed.

He realized that Sophie did not scowl at him, with one eyebrow raised, on purpose. They were both trying to make sense of the new challenges they needed to face. In the process, they had found some sort of peace within the boundaries of each other.

Apollo struggled to learn to control his hunger and his strength. He found a way to control his desire for Sophie's blood. He had come to enjoy the blood and flesh of elk. The more flesh he consumed, the longer he could go between meals. This enabled him to build the strength he needed to be in Sophie's presence without wanting to sink his teeth into her veins.

Tonight, however, her words echoed repeatedly in his head after she expressed a desire to return to Montana and live with relatives. This raised his concerns. How could she go home without her family? How would she explain what happened to her parents and little sister? What would he do without her?

Apollo feared for her well-being. If she lived that far from him, how could he protect her? Tonight, she had cried herself to sleep. Those tears had torn into his sense of stability and yet, they shouldn't have.

He had stepped outside the abandoned home to avoid Sophie's sobs. He had to do something to help her find the sense of normalcy that she craved. He hoped to find a way to give her that, a normal life, and share that life with her. But, he was pragmatic and prepared to let her go, if necessary, once he knew she was safe. His new life was no place for a human . . . especially one he loved.

After her crying had stopped and he knew she was sound asleep, he needed to think. He took off on his run, gaining speeds far greater than the human eye could see. Within minutes, he was at the top of the hill where he now stood contemplating the past few days.

Suddenly, Apollo's nose shot up in the air. He smelled an unfamiliar scent within his surroundings. The alarming scent ran a tingling sensation up and down his pale skin.

The scent was that of an animal. He had the ability to smell a human's scent, each different according to the human's blood type and their overall aura. But, whatever stood within his space was neither human nor vampire.

Apollo looked around in all directions using his olfactory senses to pinpoint the source of his alarming titillation. The erratic winds of the mountaintop veiled his target's exact location. He sensed it was getting closer. His inability to find it exasperated him to the point of transformation.

He released the beast from within and growled. His survival instincts unleashed his vampiric essence to guard himself against the annoying phantom. He breathed heavily and growled viciously, to forewarn the strange energy that approached of the threat of his destructive capabilities. All of a sudden, he heard his mother's voice.

"Apollo, don't be afraid, my son. They are here to guide you."

Apollo's slanted transmuted ears perked up slightly to comprehend his mother's message.

"Mum?"

His mother's voice distracted him from the colossal beast that suddenly stood behind him. The hairy creature stood upright, seven feet tall, on two enormous paws with jagged claws. Its burly chest cavity stuck out with his stoic stance. He had a protruding wolf-like face and human eyes that seemed to glow yellow in the night.

Apollo sensed the threat behind him and whipped around. He stepped back in surprise of the three red-haired beasts that stood upright in front of him. Apollo crouched down, and backed slowly into his predatory position, calculating his attack on these massive hairy strangers. He stood and anticipated the stranger's first move. He was ready to take on the beast that stood before him.

"Apollo, I'm not here to fight you."

_What in the . . ._ Apollo glared at the enormous creature in utter shock. It not only spoke, but it used Apollo's name. He stood his ground and never let his guard down.

"W-what _are_ you? How do you know my name?"

The three furry beasts maintained a respectable gap between themselves and Apollo. They were careful not to instigate a physical altercation. Only one of them approached Apollo.

"My name is Diego. To my right is Vicente and to my left is Tomas. We are here to talk to you. That's all."

Apollo did not budge. He maintained his defensive stance while he evaluated the creatures that stood in front of him. His mother's words repeatedly echoed in his head: 'Don't be afraid, they are here to guide you.' He was perplexed at how he should react. Should he listen to his mother's words or should he be wary of the intimidating specimens that stood in front of him? Apollo could not pull his eyes away from their enormity—their sheer obscene eeriness.

He found difficulty in comprehending the beast's words. His speech was laden with a heavy accent that Apollo was not familiar with.

"What are you? What do want?" Apollo repeated.

"We're _hombre lobo_ —a werewolf."

Apollo soon remembered having read books and seen sketches of creatures that resembled a wolf in appearance. Based on the journal that he found lodged in the floorboards of the house where he grew up, they could transform to the image of man. The details of the written word washed over him, but he had only seen hand-drawn sketches of these monstrous, hairy beasts. He had also read of the werewolf's ancient rivalry with vampires. He had doubted their existence.

"What do you want from me?"

"Apollo, I want to offer you the opportunity to discover where you truly belong."

"I'm a vampire, part of the Sanguis Clan." He was shocked to hear himself say that. He did not embrace the vampire clan as his family, but this creature did not need to know that. Apollo was warning him that he was not alone.

"We don't want trouble," Diego growled. "Let's talk about this calmly."

Apollo played his mother's words in his mind: _Don't be afraid_. Diego's docile approach and curiosity got the best of him, enough to break out of the predatory mode and stand in a less confrontational pose. He waited for the werewolves to lower their guard.

They did not hesitate to reciprocate Apollo's stand-down. Diego took it a step further. Without another word, Diego took a step back, contorted, and shrunk before Apollo's amazed eyes.

Diego fought the pain of his morphed bones and skin as he uncontrollably yet briefly twitched. Apollo looked at the claws on Diego's hands as they transformed into human hands. Apollo reached up and felt the tips of his ears as he witnessed Diego's ears descend into round, human ears. And, instinctively, Apollo felt the razor-sharp fangs that slanted from the rounded corners of his upper and lower jaw.

Diego had morphed from an altered beast into a normal looking man of average stature. The result was a dark-haired, dark-skinned hairy man. Apollo noticed physical similarities in the mutation process. The ears, the fangs and the claws on Diego were identical to his own when he would change.

The other two wolves followed suit and transformed into their human form. Apollo peered at Diego. He realized that Diego was obviously their leader.

"Why are you offering me someplace else to go? What do you want?" Apollo asked.

"Apollo, I'm reaching out to you because you are a descendant of my bloodline. You can see the similarities yourself, can't you?"

"How? I was human before Tereq turned me into a vampire. How am I both?"

"True, you have been contaminated by vampire, but your mother, Victoria, was the eighth generation from our pack, and you seem to have resulted into some sort of hybrid." Diego could see the confusion dash past Apollo's eyes.

Apollo's attempt to make sense of this anomaly left a dumbfounded look on his face. He had so many questions, but feared the answers. He needed to make sense of this shocking disclosure that hit him like a ton of bricks.

"You're saying my mother was a werewolf? How do you know this? Did you know my mum?" Apollo questioned.

"She was never an integrated werewolf. There were eight generations of human blood separating your ancestors from her. Your mother's blood was diluted. She was only a carrier of the werewolf genes, but she passed those genes to you. When the poison in the vampire venom attacked your blood cells, the poison woke up the dormant genes in your body."

Apollo once again tried to keep up with Diego's scientific language spoken in a thick Spanish accent. "How could this have happened? Does my father know?"

"I don't see how he could have."

"Amaya? Is she one, too? She's my twin."

"No," Diego said.

"Why not? We have the same blood."

"The gene is male dominant, Apollo."

Apollo began to pace. He could not focus on anything. He felt confused and disoriented. He needed to know more.

"What does this mean?" Apollo finally asked.

"It means that you can do more than you realize." Diego stepped closer, but Apollo did not notice because his mind was processing the threads of knowledge that he was learning.

"Listen, this is all much bigger than you, bigger than this place you call home. Our leader sends a pack of us out to keep an eye on Maximiliano's armies. Join our pack. Come home with us where you belong."

"Where is home?"

"Home is on the other side of the world, in Spain."

Apollo turned his back on Diego and walked toward the top of the hill. "I've never been away from this place."

"I know, but you belong in Spain with our kind."

Apollo turned and glowered at Diego, studying his confident demeanor. The way he stood with his legs slightly apart, his arms crossed over his chest, and the easiness in which he spoke. Diego had answers to questions that Apollo wanted to ask. There were so many questions, but Apollo settled on one. He had one question that would make the difference if he even considered accompanying Diego to Spain or continued going his own way. Everything depended on that answer.

"Can I bring Sophie with me?"

Diego nodded. Their pack intermingled with humans. Humans could not detect the werewolf scent. Werewolves were more civilized than the vampire clans they had run up against, especially compared to Maximiliano's clan.

Bad blood had caused a feud between them for six-hundred years and Diego's leader was preparing for the attack he suspected would come soon. Suddenly, they all froze. All four of the entities reacted in unison as their werewolf instincts sniffed a disturbance in the lining of the atmosphere. Diego had mere seconds to pull Apollo from his thoughts and get him to leave with his pack. "It's time, Apollo. We should go."

Instantly, Apollo's eyes turned black, his nails grew, his fangs lengthened. His face took on the hybrid combination. His head snapped to the right, his eyes trying to see past the miles of trees that separated him and Sophie. He flew down the hill toward the heavy forest trees. One mission overwhelmed his senses: Sophie's safety. "Tereq has Sophie."

Diego moved with speed toward Apollo, throwing his palm in the air, striking Apollo's chest, and stopping him hard. "I know, it's too late, Apollo. Let the human go. It's time for you to take on your own destiny," Diego said through his upper and lower fangs.

Apollo narrowed his eyes and glared at the partially transmuted beast in front of him. He was angry that Diego would try to stop him from saving the woman he vowed to protect.

"Let her go," Diego growled.

"You and your hounds can help me or get out of my way," Apollo threw his opened palms into Diego's chest and sent him flying backward.

Diego landed on his knees. A growl slipped from his lips as he instantly changed into a beastly werewolf. He rose up on his back paws. Diego's high-pitched, warning howl bellowed through the air. Vicente and Tomas instantly transformed into the beastly creatures. Two large werewolves stepped out from behind the surrounding trees in order to join the other three.

Apollo stayed long enough to assess how many of them he would thwart if he had to. Then without a second thought, he took off running toward the vague scent of Sophie.

Diego and his pack of werewolves ran behind Apollo, unsuccessfully trying to keep up with his indecorous hybrid speed. They fell behind, but they kept hold of his scent.

## -18-

"Ouch, this bitch bit me," Amaya exclaimed as she threw the semiconscious Sophie to the rocky ground. She bent over, lifted her arm, and backhanded Sophie in the face, knocking her out cold again. Sophie dropped to the ground like a rag doll with a small cut on her cheek from the blow. Amaya licked Sophie's blood off her hand.

Tereq released a boisterous laugh that echoed off the forest trees.

"What are you laughing about?" Amaya sneered. "You carry her from this point. I can't resist the smell and taste of her blood."

"I'm laughing because I find it ironic that you would actually complain about a human biting you when your existence depends on you biting them."

Amaya smirked and shook her head. "You've got a point there."

"You know. . ." Tereq leaned down and threw Sophie's limp body over his shoulder with ease. "You hit her pretty hard both times."

"Well, the first time, in that basement where we found her, she tried to put up a fight. What was I supposed to do?"

"I'm not saying you shouldn't have hit her. I'm saying you hit her _hard_. You're lucky you didn't kill her."

"Why am _I_ lucky I didn't kill her? _She's_ lucky I didn't kill her. Anyway, I'm not stupid, I held back my strength."

"I'm just saying that because your brother is pretty fond of this girl." Tereq had to keep swiping the substantial vegetation and branches of the lush, dark forest away as they navigated through the thick terrain. "Plus, you and Apollo are already at odds with each other; can you imagine if you killed his playmate? I can't wait to see the look on their faces when they see _us_ returning with her."

Tereq stopped abruptly when Amaya had not responded to him. When he saw that she was not behind him, he quickly ran a few feet back to where they were.

Amaya had her right hand on a tree. There was an ooze of black blood that dripped from her nose. He noticed she had already swiped at her nose once because the black ooze left a streak across her face and on the back of her hand. He dropped Sophie to the ground and rushed to Amaya's side.

"It's my head," she moaned. She cupped her left hand over her forehead and fell to her knees as the pain in her head increased.

Tereq reached out to brace her when she began to sway backward. "What's wrong? Is it a vision? What can I do to help you? Tell me."

Amaya fell back into his arms and began to convulse. The irises of her eyes changed from sea blue to midnight black just before they rolled up behind her eyelids. She reached her hand out and gripped Tereq's shirt while she endured the pain. As quickly as it started, it stopped.

Tereq held her close. He glanced back at Sophie still knocked out, laying peacefully in the dirt and leaves. When he looked back at Amaya, her eyes were wide open, her fangs extended, and she peered at him.

"What?" he asked.

Amaya gripped Tereq's t-shirt with her long razor-like nails. "We have to go, you're in trouble."

"What do you mean I'm in trouble?"

"In the vision, something's going to happen to you. Grab Sophie and let's get out of here."

"Are you okay to get up?" he asked.

"Yes, yes . . . Get her and let's go," Amaya demanded. She jumped to her feet.

"What did you see? Tell me," Tereq asked franticly. Amaya's words unsettled him. Her initial vision's accuracy convinced him that her unique sense was something worth respecting. Therefore, he wasted no more time asking. Tereq ran over and leaned down to pick up Sophie, but he stopped short when he felt the gust of wind followed by Apollo's peculiar scent.

"Back away from her," Apollo growled. He was fully transformed and ready to battle.

Tereq turned his full attention to Apollo and burst into his vampiric essence. Apollo's odd differences did not intimidate Tereq. Amaya followed Tereq and immediately transformed. Each of them had their hands and claws extended and were ready to defend should someone make a move.

"Apollo, just come back with us. Face Maximiliano," Amaya pleaded.

"The only thing I need is to take Sophie somewhere safer."

Tereq roared, "You're not going anywhere. And you're definitely not taking the human with you. She's ours now."

"Tereq . . . please," Amaya held up her hand, asking him to stop. "Apollo, we need you back at the lair. You cannot run around this forest. If Sophie returns home, she'll expose us to the humans. That will put our family at risk. We can't allow that."

"Get out of my way. I don't want to fight either of you, but I will if I have to," Apollo sneered.

"I'm done listening to his babbling. Turn yourself in, boy." Tereq lowered his head and body into an attack stance while he kept his eyes fixed on Apollo.

"Tereq, stop, please," Amaya yelled.

"You may be my maker, but I'm stronger than you. Hand her over. Don't make me hurt you." Apollo lowered into a challenging stance.

Tereq laughed at Apollo's confidence. "You're a stupid child." Tereq ran toward Apollo, flew through the air and grabbed Apollo's neck. He lifted Apollo off the ground and pinned him three feet above the ground against a massive tree. Tereq levitated next to Apollo while he held him around his throat.

Apollo punched Tereq in the stomach, grabbed his throat, and used his feet to push himself off the tree. He landed on top of Tereq on the ground. Tereq's left arm swiped across Apollo's body and caught him by the neck, flipping him back to the ground. Apollo broke out of Tereq's hold and they both jumped up. They immediately faced one another, and circled each other in a counter-clockwise motion.

"This is going to end badly for you," Apollo warned.

"You don't scare me," Tereq growled.

Apollo hissed at Tereq, displaying his upper and lower fangs.

"You're a freak, Apollo. Remember when I said that God made us in his image. Well, my maker wasn't sure what to do with you. Even God didn't want you on his team for fear that you would disgrace him."

Apollo jumped up in the air and threw a sidekick that caught Tereq in the throat.

Tereq stumbled backward and tried to catch his footing.

Apollo used that moment to embrace his speed and strength. He lunged toward Tereq, grabbed the top of his head and swung his body onto Tereq's back, locking his legs around Tereq's midsection.

Apollo grabbed his hair in one hand and dragged his thick, razor-sharp claws across Tereq's jugular, partially severing his neck. "Meet your maker, motherfucker." Apollo simultaneously yanked at Tereq's hair with such strength and speed that he ripped his head off his body. Apollo unlocked his legs and landed on both feet to the ground.

Black blood spurted out from Tereq's neck and soaked the front of Apollo. Apollo watched Tereq's body fall to the ground and implode into a pile of tar-like ooze.

"What have you done?" Amaya screamed.

Apollo stood in shock, looking at the head he still held in his hand. Tereq's eyes were open, his mouth left in the formation of the words he was getting ready to say. Tereq's fangs were dripping poison. Apollo looked from Tereq's head to Amaya. He threw the head down next to what was left of Tereq's body. The rolling head imploded soon after.

Amaya was too furious to speak. She lunged at her brother, attempting to put her hands around his neck. He moved out of the way and she flew past him. She hit the forest floor hard and slid across the ground.

"Amaya, I'm different. I'm not like you."

She growled, but there were no words left her mouth. She stood up, her hands ready to attack, she hissed through her fangs. Amaya focused her mind and energy on the training she had with Fatima.

"I'm not going to fight you," Apollo exclaimed. "This is enough. I'm taking Sophie, and I'm leaving."

Slow and drawn out, she hissed, "You'll have to kill me first."

"Listen to me." Apollo stood straight up, then transformed back into his human image as a truce. He continued, "There is more to Mum than either of us realized there was. Stop trying to fight and listen to me."

She continued to circle Apollo. She was waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"Mum passed on a gene—" Apollo abruptly stopped. "You're bleeding."

Amaya reached up and swiped at the blood dripping from her nose. "Oh fuck, not again," she whispered.

"What? What's wrong? What is it?" Apollo was at her side instantly. He caught her when she fell backward.

Amaya began to convulse in his arms. Her eyes rolled back behind her eyelids as her hand tightened into a spontaneous fist.

Apollo was baffled. He had no idea what was wrong with his sister or why she convulsed in his arms. When her body stopped shaking, her hand unfolded and grabbed his shirt.

"Papa, it's Papa. He's in danger," she frantically said.

"What kind of danger? What do you mean?"

"Something with huge claws is going to attack our father. It will pin him down by the neck. We have to help him. I have visions that come true. Please, believe me, Apollo. We have to find Father."

Apollo already sensed the vampires' arrival before she finished her sorrowful pleading. He looked up to see Nicholas, Vasco, and Ori emerge from the trees in front of him. When he glanced at his father's face, he saw Nicholas had fully turned and was storming straight toward him. Apollo released Amaya and jumped backward into a squatting position.

"What'd you do to her?" Nicholas bellowed at Apollo.

"I didn't touch her, Father."

Nicholas looked from Apollo to Amaya and then back at Apollo. "If you ever hurt—"

"Okay," Vasco bellowed. "I've had enough of this family reunion." He looked toward Amaya. "How did you end up with the human and your brother? We've been searching miles and miles of terrain for them."

"My visions—"

"Your visions?" Nicholas questioned.

"Since my turning, I've had visions that come true. That's how I found Apollo." She looked toward what was left of Tereq on the ground a couple feet from where they stood. "Then I also had a vision of Tereq and it happened."

Vasco dashed over to the black tar-like glob left of Tereq's remains. His head shook in disbelief. Anger tore through his veins, instantly transforming into his hideous appearance. Large, black wings grew from his back; his fangs were stained red with pockets of yellow and they extended over his bottom lip. His face mutated into an unrecognizable beast. "What the fuck happened here? Who did this to him?" His mad cry echoed throughout the mountain range.

Before the echo faded, a large werewolf had jumped through the air and landed in front of Apollo.

"Diego," Apollo whispered.

"Are you all right, Apollo?" Diego said over his shoulder. Before Apollo responded, Diego growled fiercely at Vasco.

Four more seven-foot werewolves jumped through the air and landed behind Apollo in a solid line. Their menacing presence made Vasco and Ori take a step back. Nicholas grabbed Amaya's hand, and they moved backward toward the clan. Tension filled the air. They were all prepared to battle, but they were waiting for someone to make the first move.

" _Ya sabía que olía el apeste de perro español_ [I knew I smelled the stench of Spanish dog]," Vasco hissed at Diego.

" _Mira nomás, la rata voladora_ [Look here, it's the flying rat]," Diego retorted.

"What do you want? You're on our land," Vasco raged.

"We are here to claim Apollo. He is one of us. He belongs with us."

Nicholas stepped forward, a conscious bold move to interrupt Vasco's conversation with Diego. "What do you want with _my_ son? Apollo is one of _us_."

Apollo stepped forward in front of Diego. "Did you know mother carried the werewolf gene?" he asked angrily.

"What?" Nicholas looked confused at Apollo.

"What is he talking about, Papa?" Amaya looked from her brother to her father.

"Explain this at once, Apollo," Nicholas demanded.

"Mother was a descendant of a werewolf clan. She passed on the gene to me. When Tereq bit me, the poison ignited the gene of Mother's bloodline."

"I've heard enough of this bullshit!" Vasco's roar shook the tree branches that surrounded them. "You are a traitor," Vasco yelled at Apollo.

Diego lashed out with a wicked growl that rang in everyone's ears. "You have no right calling him a traitor after you committed treason on your king and country," Diego hissed at Vasco.

"You know nothing," Vasco said.

"Six centuries and you're still trying to claim _inocencia_ [innocence]? _Te pudrirás en el infierno_ [You will rot in hell]." Diego's dark, slanted eyes peered out from behind his deformed, wolf-like ferocious face. He narrowed his eyes at each one of them.

"No werewolf will ever take my son away from me," Nicholas snarled. He lunged through the air toward Diego.

Before he reached Diego, two werewolves came from behind, grabbed both of Nicholas's arms and tossed him down at Diego's feet. Diego's large, heavy paw, with its extended razor-sharp claws, stomped down on Nicholas's neck.

"Apollo," Amaya screamed, "MY VISION!"

Apollo recalled her warning and without hesitation, he charged at Diego, tackling him off his father. Both Apollo and Diego slid across the forest dirt. Everyone froze, except for one werewolf.

Out of nowhere, a wolf leaped toward Apollo. Apollo sidestepped and slammed his thick claws into the hairy beast's belly, ripping open his opponent's stomach in an uppercut motion. The lacerated wolf collapsed and shook as he gazed upon his own slimy intestines and spilled-out contents on the ground.

Diego looked down at his dying comrade. He threw his head back and howled up into the sky. His howl was a deep, gut-wrenching howl. "What have you done?" Foam flew from his muzzle. "He was your own family."

Apollo's rage and confusion left him perplexed. He stood in the middle of two clans: family from the Sanguis Clan on his right and family from the werewolf clan to his left. He glanced at an unconscious Sophie on the ground, and then his eyes connected with each of the vampires that stood to his right.

Apollo turned back toward the werewolves. Keeping his eyes on them, he took two long steps backward toward the vampires. He looked down at the wolf on the ground, who had now transformed back to his human form. His eyes looked into Diego's eyes and slowly said the following words about the vampires that stood directly behind him. "This is my family!"

Darkness stood still. Every creature of darkness that witnessed Apollo's proclamation froze. Diego was the only one who inched his way toward the casualty.

Diego leaned down and scooped up his fallen comrade into his arms. Then, he turned his attention toward Apollo.

" _¡Te arrepentirás cuando descubras la verdad!_ " [You will regret this when you discover the truth!] Diego growled as he stepped back in retreat.

Simultaneously, each wolf took a slow step back, retreating from the glow of the moon into the shadows of the forest. In a deep rumble, from the shadows of the night, Diego warned, "This is not over. This war has just begun."

From a distance, somewhere in the woodsy terrain of the forest in Stockwood, Washington, several werewolves released an insidious howl that echoed through the night . . . and in the ears of the Sanguis.

THE TURNING

UNLEASHED

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## Dedication Page

Reign's dedication:

This book is dedicated to my two teenage sons.

My sincerest thanks to:

E. Arellano, John Catlin, Shawn Anthony, Liz Jones, Eve Paludan and to all my readers.

***

Arellano's dedication

This book is respectfully dedicated to the memory of my dear cousin, who I looked up to like an older brother during my childhood: Ricardo Najera (1971 – 2009)

My sincerest thanks to:

April M. Reign: For being crazy enough to work with me. Thank you for the opportunity. It is an honor to work with you!

My children: Yanely, Damian, and Logan for their patience and support.

My wife: To my personal editor and beautiful wife, Norma. Thank you for your help and understanding. You were the cheerleader and stability I needed when I was vampirically challenged.

## Dividing Destiny

(SAMPLE)
Prologue

It was doubtful that, after eight years, this cold case could even be solved. Destiny Parks spread out the contents of the case file on her desk in Century City. The jumble of evidence, reduced to messy stacks of papers, raised more questions than it answered. Leads were dead ends. Pieces of the puzzle didn't fit. The trail was so stale that she should have boxed up the file and moved it to long-term storage, where it would gather dust, waiting for some hot-shot private investigator to take on the case and get public recognition for solving it. As it turned out, she was that hot-shot private investigator. But she didn't want public recognition. She wasn't working the case for money either. With one trembling finger, Destiny touched the cheek of the man in the morgue photo and said softly, "Daddy."

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## Enticing the Moon

(SAMPLE)
Chapter One

Rebecca Thompson stood alone in her attorney's office. She gazed out the window at the view of Frankfort, Kentucky, which sprawled as far as the eye could see. Like an iPod set on repeat, the past twenty-two years of her own life replayed over and over in her mind: songs of losses and gains, sorrows and joys. Just two weeks ago, her life had quickly changed with one incident—one incident that was powerful enough to alter her life path, forever.

Dave Mitchell entered his office for his 9:00 a.m. appointment. A young woman stood still, mesmerized at the bank of windows that overlooked the metropolis, a faraway expression on her beautiful face.

"Ms. Thompson? Rebecca Thompson?" Mr. Mitchell asked, gently touching her shoulder, as if he was afraid he would startle her.

Rebecca slowly came out of her reverie, turning to look into the eyes of an older man when she felt him touch her shoulder. He had an easy gentleness about him that made her feel comfortable, a sense of ease that made this entire situation bearable.

Once he knew he had her attention, he continued, "Hi, Rebecca, I'm Dave Mitchell." He extended his hand to her and she obliged, yet said nothing. "I'm your father's attorney and I'll be reading his will to you today." He motioned for her to take a seat across the desk from him.

Rebecca walked slowly away from the window and sat down in the plush chair that was placed on the other side of a huge mahogany desk. She assumed the outer self mask of confidence that she knew presented herself as a woman with no fear, someone ready to take on the world. However, she hid the inner self from Dave Mitchell; she veiled that woman who was plagued with fright, uncertainty, and confusion about her present and her future.

She no longer had control of her own life. What was worse; she knew the man in front of her held her cards in his hands. She was anxious to find out what hand had been dealt to her. She had decided that she would hold her head high, no matter what the cards revealed.

Rebecca now regretted that she did not keep up on her father's financial affairs. She knew that he was a wealthy man. He was a self-made millionaire who lived like a middle-class person, a man who thought of others before he thought of himself. He was a philanthropist, a man who believed in doing for others, a man who would be remembered for his generosity and social consciousness in the big city that lay before her.

That lifestyle did not fit into Rebecca's mentality that the world owed her for the loss of her mother. She discovered at a young age that caring about people or loving someone meant someday losing them and she never wanted to endure that pain again. Therefore, she closed her heart to the world and her mind to the possibilities of ever loving another person. She was alone, and she intended to stay that way.

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## The Mancini Saga (IOU)

(SAMPLE)
Chapter One

Connecticut

1998

Mia buried her head deep into her pillow, trying to muffle her sobs. When her parents told her to pack her bags because she would be getting married in the morning, her world came crashing down. Not only was her husband-to-be three times her age, James, the self-proclaimed prophet and leader of The Church of Biblical Truth, was a short, pudgy man with nine wives. Devastated by the sudden news at becoming his tenth wife, Mia felt her heart drop and the pit of her stomach churn. How could my parents let this happen? she wondered.

Mia shuddered and her entire body clenched up, imagining the grotesque things that this disgusting old man would demand from a sixteen-year-old girl. She had seen his wives; none of them seemed particularly happy. That thought alone caused her to cry harder. Not only was she angry, she was terrified.

"He's a horrible old man," she whispered into the fabric of her pillowcase, careful not to let anyone hear her speak such treachery against the cult leader.

She reached over, grabbed a tissue from a box at the side of her bed, and blew her nose. Mia felt betrayed by her parents. She could feel her emotions shutting down, her heart stealing itself against the overwhelming conflict and confusion. The betrayal, the abandonment, the craziness of the situation was too much; without making a conscious decision to do so, she was hardening her heart to protect herself. With each tear she shed, her heart shut down even further. All she wanted was the freedom to choose with whom she fell in love and eventually married, of her own free will . . . a hopeless fantasy, she now realized, and one that would never come true. She did not want to think what the future might hold. Her mind was blasted by a hurricane of wild thoughts that mostly boiled down to three choices: fight, flight, or submit.

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## About the Author

April M. Reign started writing poetry at the age of fifteen. She is the oldest of three girls and was lucky enough to witness the true romance of her happily married parents.

April was born and raised in Southern California. She is a single mother of two wonderful boys, and enjoys spending time with her family. Sitting on the beach during a simple sunset is where she finds her most creative place to write.

Please visit her at: www.aprilmreign.com or become a friend on Facebook at www.facebook.com/aprilmreign
