Bad Blood (Battle of the Undead Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

Nicholas would visit me in my room, hoping I would look upon him with the same love he showed me, but every day, I would launch at him, tearing and clawing like some wild beast dressed in the finest clothes and fed by the best servants. I tried many methods of escape, many plots to convince him to let me go—hunger strikes, secret tunnels, suicide attempts, and even once pretending I was reformed. Nothing worked. Eventually, though, I stood in front of an open door, very much like this one. Nicholas was smiling. His new plan was to let me go to show me he loved me. I remember staring at the vampire who had been my captor for the past twenty years as he searched my face for defeat or for some jot of love for him. He found none. I simply kicked him as hard as I could in the crotch and, head held high, walked out of my prison.
    I poked my head out and scanned both sides of the corridor, which was eerily clear. I walked out, Satan at my heels and my scythes in my hands. The world outside looked almost normal, and if I hadn’t just decapitated Mr. Gervis, I’d have presumed the Elders were wrong or the talk of zombies had been some tactless tactical exercise.
    The streets seemed darker than normal. Although the darkness did not bother me, I did note it. Lights hadn’t been switched on tonight. Perhaps no one was there to do it. Everything felt tight and at too-close quarters. I rushed down the stairs to the next level’s fire escape, hoping it would give me the jumping distance needed to leap to the ground.
    As I moved blindly onto the landing, I bumped straight into a few more neighbors. Unfortunately, they hadn’t fared much better than Mr. Gervis and were a mass of half-eaten, animated leftovers. Satan, who’d caught up, stopped behind me and growled. I knew that lone zombies and small groups were going to be easy enough to deal with. Only if they swamped me would I get in trouble. About five had congregated in the corridor—how many made a horde? They stood and stared at me. I guessed that my smell freaked them out a bit. After all, I was really just a slightly more sentient version of what they were. The big difference was that I was less grabby and more seductive in my killing methods. After a few moans, they lunged forward, and I began to cleave off their heads, keeping them at a leg’s length with speedy roundhouse kicks. When I was done, a small mound of body parts quivered at my feet.
    “Thanks for the help.” I raised an eyebrow at Satan , who’d backed into a nearby corner with his ears flat to his head and tail between his legs. He slunk toward me for a reassuring head pat, which I gave. He then pricked his ears up and sniffed at a nearby door. In all the zombie-killing frenzy, I’d forgotten what I was actually supposed to be doing, trying to find survivors. I listened at the door. I definitely heard at least one heartbeat in there. I knocked.
    “Hello, is anyone there?”
    I heard movement, but no answer.
    “I can hear you in there. It’s Brit from upstairs . I’m here to help you.”
    Whispers, then the door opened to reveal a woman in her thirties with two sets of big , round eyes peering from behind her legs.
    “I remember you . You’re that Goth girl,” said the woman.
    “Umm, no. I’m not actually a Goth girl.”
    I’ve been around much longer than that , I thought.
    “Oh, you always look so …”
    Yeah, this conversation wasn’t going to earn her my protection, so I cut it off quickly.
    “I know a place that’s safe. I’m here to escort you there. Pack up quickly and let’s get these flats behind us, okay?”
    She looked a little lost and vague, but the two children behind her turned, ran, and started packing their toys. They looked about seven and were twins, a boy and a girl.
    “Go on, then. It’s not getting any safer.”
    I nudged the mother, and she seemed to wake from her trance.
    “Sure, okay. Umm. I’m Tracy.”
    “I know.”
    I didn’t actually know her name, but