Found. Morgan Rice. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Morgan Rice
Издательство: Lukeman Literary Management Ltd
Серия: Vampire Journals
Жанр произведения: Книги про вампиров
Год издания: 2012
isbn:
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on the lookout for soldiers; she spotted groups of them in the distance, patrolling the streets, but they didn’t seem like they were looking out for her specifically.

      Scarlet and Ruth squeezed their way into the masses of humanity, jostled as they headed down the twisting alleyways. It was so crowded here, people bustling in every direction. She passed vendors with wooden carts, selling fruits and vegetables, loaves of bread, bottles of olive oil and wine. They were adjacent to each other, crammed in the thick alleys, screaming out for customers. People haggled with them left and right.

      As if it were not crowded enough, also filling the streets were animals – camels and donkeys and sheep and all sorts of livestock – being led by their owners. Amidst these ran wild chickens, roosters and dogs. They smelled terribly, and made the noisy marketplace even noisier, with their constant braying and bleating and barking.

      Scarlet could feel Ruth’s hunger mounting at the sight of these animals, and kneeled down and grabbed her by the neck, holding her back.

      “No Ruth!” Scarlet said firmly.

      Ruth reluctantly obeyed. Scarlet felt bad, but she didn’t want Ruth to kill these animals and cause a huge commotion in this crowd.

      “I’ll find you food, Ruth,” Scarlet said. “I promise.”

      Ruth whined back, and Scarlet felt a hunger pang, too.

      Scarlet hurried past the animals, leading Ruth down more alleys, twisting and turning past vendors and down more alleyways. It seemed like this maze would never end, and Scarlet could hardly even see the sky.

      Finally, Scarlet found a vendor with a huge piece of roasting meat. She could smell it from afar, the smell infiltrating her every pore; she looked down and saw Ruth looking up at it, licking her lips. She stopped before it, gawking.

      “Buy a piece?” the vendor, a large man with a smock covered in blood, asked.

      Scarlet wanted a piece more than anything. But as she reached into her pockets, she found no money whatsoever. She reached down and felt her bracelet, and more than anything, she wanted to take it off and sell it to this man, to get a meal.

      But she forced herself not to. She sensed it was important, and so she used all her force of will to stop herself.

      Instead, she slowly, sadly shook her head in response. She grabbed Ruth and led her away from the man. She could hear Ruth whining and protesting, but they had no choice.

      They pressed on, and finally, the maze opened up into a bright and sunny, wide-open plaza. Scarlet was taken aback by the open sky. Coming out of all those alleyways, it felt like the most wide-open thing she’d ever seen, with thousands of people milling around inside it. In its center sat a stone fountain, and framing the plaza was an immense stone wall, rising hundreds of feet into the air. Each stone was so thick, it was ten times her size. Against this wall stood hundreds of people, wailing, praying. Scarlet had no idea why, or where she was, but she sensed that she was in the center of the city, and that this was a very holy place.

      “Hey you!” came a nasty voice.

      Scarlet felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck, and slowly turned.

      There sat a group of five boys, sitting on a crop of stone, staring down at her. They were filthy from head to toe, dressed in rags. They were teenagers, maybe 15, and she could see the meanness on their faces. She could sense that they were hoping for trouble, and that they’d just spotted their next victim; she wondered if it was obvious how alone she was.

      Among them was a wild dog, huge, rabid-looking, and twice the size of Ruth.

      “What you doing out here all alone?” the lead boy asked in a mocking way, to the laughter of the other four. He was muscular and stupid-looking, with broad lips and a scar on his forehead.

      As she looked at them, Scarlet felt a new sense overcome her, one she had never experienced before: it was a heightened sense of intuition. She didn’t know what was happening, but suddenly, she was able to read their thoughts clearly, to feel their feelings, to know their intentions. She felt immediately, clear as day, that they were up to no good. She knew that they wanted to harm her.

      Ruth snarled beside her. Scarlet could sense a major confrontation coming – which was exactly what she wanted to avoid.

      She leaned down and began to lead Ruth away.

      “Come on Ruth,” Scarlet said, as she began to turn and walk away.

      “Hey, girl, I’m talking to you!” yelled the boy.

      As she walked away, Scarlet turned over her shoulder and saw the five of them jump down off the stone and begin walking after her.

      Scarlet burst into a run, back into the alleyways, wanting to put as much distance between herself and these boys as she could. She thought of her confrontation with the Roman soldier, and for a moment wondered if she should stop and try to defend herself.

      But she didn’t want to fight. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. Or take any chances. She just wanted to find her mommy and daddy.

      Scarlet turned down an alley empty of people. She looked back, and within moments, could see the group of boys chasing after her. They weren’t far behind, and they were gaining speed fast. Too fast. Their dog ran among them, and Scarlet could see that in moments, they’d catch up. She had to make a good turn to lose them.

      Scarlet turned another corner, hoping she’d find a way out. But as she did, her heart stopped.

      It was a dead-end.

      Scarlet turned slowly, Ruth by her side, and faced the boys. They were now maybe ten feet away. They slowed as they approached, taking their time, savoring the moment. They stood there laughing, cruel smiles on the faces.

      “Looks like your luck has run out, little girl,” the lead boy said.

      Scarlet was thinking the same thing.

      Chapter Three

      Sam woke to a splitting headache. He reached up with both hands and held his head, trying to make the pain go away. But it wouldn’t. It felt like the entire world was coming down on his skull.

      Sam tried to open his eyes, to figure out where he was, and as he did, the pain was unbearable. Blinding sunlight bounced off of desert rock, forcing him to shield his eyes and lower his head. He felt himself lying on a rocky, desert floor, felt the dry heat, felt the dust rising up into his face. He curled up in a fetal position and held his head tighter, trying to make the pain go away.

      Memories came flooding back.

      First, there was Polly.

      He remembered Caitlin’s wedding night. The night he proposed to Polly. Her saying yes. The joy on her face.

      He remembered the next day. His going on his hunt. His anticipation of their night to come.

      He remembered finding her. On the beach. Dying. Her telling him about their baby.

      Waves of grief came rushing back. It was more than he could handle. It was like a terrible nightmare re-running in his head, one he could not switch off. He felt that all he had left to live for was stripped away from him, all in one grand moment. Polly. The baby. Life as he knew it.

      He wished he’d died at that moment.

      Then he remembered his vengeance. His rage. Killing Kyle.

      And the moment that everything changed. He remembered Kyle’s spirit infusing him. He remembered the indescribable feeling of rage, of another person’s spirit and soul and energy invading his, possessing him completely. It was the moment Sam stopped being who he was. It was the moment he became someone else.

      Sam opened his eyes completely, and he sensed, he knew, they were glowing bright red. He knew they were no longer his. He knew they were now Kyle’s.

      He felt Kyle’s hatred, felt Kyle’s power, racing through him, through every ounce of his body, from his toes, through his legs, up his arms, all the way to his head. He felt Kyle’s need for destruction pulsing through every ounce of him, like a living thing, like something stuck in his body that