Vampocalypse (old first draft)

Chapter Sixteen

"You don't have to use verbal spells, the magic is in you-"

"But I don't know how to use it!" I jerked my arm out of his grasp. He didn't try to hold me. Instead, he let his hand fall to his side in defeat.

"That's fine go, but I'm going with you," he declared.

My heart and my eyes stung. This was just too much. Did he never give up? There was no way we'd get out of this alive.

"You'll only be putting yourself in danger."

"I've been in danger since I got that stupid job at the museum seventy-three years ago. I was hunted then and I'm still hunted today. You think they wouldn't kill me anyway if they caught me out in the wild? Do you realize what a risk I took showing up at their door and begging to be reformed? Compared to the danger of that, I think getting to hang out with a beautiful, kind girl that sort of likes me back sometimes and just so happens to be a badass Spellbinder sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me."

He was dead serious. Ready to lay his neck on the line for me again and again. Why? Because I was some sort of promised savior? That was so not me.

"No," I said, and started to walk away.

"Okay then. I just figured you might be interested in following your grandma's instructions, but if you'd rather do this on your own, I understand," he said with a sneaky grin.

He knew that would get my attention. Damn it.

"What did she tell you?" I said.

"She gave us a mission," he said, very cryptic. By putting stress on the word 'us', he was saying if I accepted Gramma's mission, I accepted his company. I would never disobey Gramma's orders, especially not now.

I blew out a sigh. "What is it?"

"Just a bit of a treasure hunt that might involve raising the dead. You interested?" he said airily.

"I can't-"

"She told me how, and, trust me, you can."

"How?"

He threw an arm around my shoulder and began leading me out of the hidden headquarters.

"I'll tell you on the way," he said.

I could have refused. Could have simply left, wandered around until the vampires or the deaders found me. But how would that benefit anyone?

I'd been locked up so long in that horrible place, doing everything, yet nothing to survive. If I could learn, if I could fight, things might actually change. And if I failed, at least I would have known I died doing something.

I made up my mind then, if it was a war they wanted, I'd do everything I could to give them a good one. I wasn't going to die running. I would die fighting. And I knew he would stick with me the whole way.

Hector and I were either both very brave, or very stupid.

"Fine. If they want me, we'll give them a rough time of getting me," I said.

"That's my feisty girl."

•••

"Still in one piece, I see," Wren said cheerfully as we emerged from the secret door.

I hadn't even noticed him bail, but then again, there had been a lot going on.

Wren was whittling a stick with a very sharp hunting knife, giving the wood a nice sharp point.

"A stake? Do those really work?" I asked.

He tucked the finished stake into his back pocket.

"Yep. So a Spellbinder, huh? Damn. You're lucky," he said, shaking his head admirably.

"Not really. I don't feel lucky. I feel pretty darn scared. . ."

"We need human supplies. Can you cover it, Wren?" Hector interrupted.

"Sure thing. I'm on it," Wren said, then he disappeared into the wild.

I was still finding it hard to soak in the full impact of everything. I had so many questions; about Gramma, about where we were going, about what exactly a Spellbinder could do. . . I just didn't know where to start. I didn't even know if Hector could answer all of my questions.

"Hey?" he said softly.

"Hmm?"

"It'll be okay."

After some thought, I replied, "I know."

"You do?" he raised a curious brow. "How? are you getting visions already?"

"No. I just know, because-" I paused, because what I was going to say next was a little embarrassing. "Because you're going to be with me."

Hector's brows rose and he studied me.

Oh no, I shouldn't have said that.

"You really trust me, don't you?" he asked.

I nodded shyly. He took my hand in his. He was ice cold, but his touch was becoming so comforting to me, that I welcomed it.

"Then trust me when I say I believe in you."

"I said I trust you, not that you're always right," I said.

"What? I'm always right. Or lucky. I'm always lucky." He grinned.

"Lucky, huh? Remember, you got bit by a vampire once. . ." Obviously.

"That was lucky. If I hadn't, I would never have met you."

Warmth rose into my cheeks, and the odd tightening in my chest was back. Being so near to him when he said such things- I hardly realized I was about to kiss him before we were interrupted.

"I don't mean to be a party crasher, but here are the supplies," Wren said, holding out a backpack.

"Awesome," Hector said, seeming to break a trance we were both under.

Could I possibly have as strong of an effect on him as he has on me?

"I brought you some blood, too. I thought you could use a bit of a perk," Wren said. He held out an airtight baggy full of the thick, red substance.

I stiffened. It was as though I'd forgotten what he was until I saw that bag of blood, his only source of nourishment. The same thing flowing in my veins. His mannerisms were so human, it was shocking how easy it was to forget.

But he'd saved me more times than one. Deep inside, I did trust him. I couldn't hold his diet against him. It was my understanding, or assumption rather, that he hadn't chosen to be what he was- just like I hadn't chosen to be a Spellbinder. He was merely doing what he had to do to survive. Just like me.