Hey, this might seem like an odd question, but are you okay?
I’m fine. I responded. Why?
A short silence fell, then, I just got a strange feeling a few minutes ago. I started to feel upset but … it seemed like it was someone else’s emotion.
I startled. And you think it was mine?
Did something happen?
Yes. It’s not possible that you felt my emotions. I mean, I haven’t been able to feel any of yours.
Maybe something filtered through. I don’t know. Tell me what happened, Darya.
I hesitated. A part of me didn’t want to make a big deal out of things.
Darya?
Inwardly, I sighed before finally replying, I was in Flynn’s pub with Grace and Rebecca, and this creepy old vampire insulted me. He spat on the floor and called me half-breed scum.
I hope you told him to fuck off. I heard the rumble of anger in his voice, and a small thrill went through me that he was mad on my behalf.
I didn’t say anything. No one’s ever spoken to me like that. It just felt like his hatred ran deep. It was horrible to feel that from a stranger, I said before being distracted by my sister yelling.
“Darya, watch out!”
I’d been so busy talking to Peter that I didn’t notice the four thugs who emerged from the side of a shuttered building. They wore hoods and masks, disguising their faces from view. Rebecca and Grace were already fighting two of them.
The other two advanced on me, grabbing for me, but I was faster. I hopped up onto a window ledge then kicked one of them in the face before launching myself through the air at the other guy, taking him to the ground. He drove a fist into my ribs, knocking the wind out of me, but I focused through the pain. I elbowed him in the shoulder, then grabbed his head and bashed it into the ground.
I looked up just in time to see Rebecca using the homemade herbal concoction she kept in her purse to incapacitate her attacker. Think pepper spray times ten. Meanwhile, Grace had her assailant pinned to the ground. She pulled his mask off, revealing the same bloke who’d verbally abused me at Flynn’s. Had he and his friends been lying in wait? I started to feel like the insult was a ploy to get me to follow him outside, and when I didn’t take the bait, he had to resort to attacking us on our walk home.
But what was their aim? Spotting a dark van at the other end of the street, I suspected it might be to kidnap us. Someone sat behind the wheel, but they were too much in shadow for me to see their face. They must’ve noticed I clocked them because the engine started up, the lights blaring to life as they drove away, tires squealing.
Darya, where did you go? Peter asked, sounding worried.
Just dealing with something. Talk later?
What’s going on? I can feel your emotions again. You’re stressed and panicked and …
I stopped listening to him, calling out to Grace, “Get Rebecca back to the house. I’ll deal with the rest of them.”
With my sister’s history of being kidnapped, the most important thing right now was getting her to safety. Grace nodded, knowing I was more than capable of handling myself in a fight. “I’ll be back as quick as I can,” she replied before lifting Rebecca at the waist. She hitched her over her shoulder and sped away at vampire speed. Grace could run the circumference of the city in a matter of minutes. It would only take her seconds to get Rebecca to safety.
The guy I kicked in the face was back up and coming at me, a nasty look in his eyes. He was a vampire, which made him stronger and faster, but I sparred with Grace and my father all the time. I was used to fighting vampires far stronger than this one.
I prepared to fend off the attack when a cloud of purple mist filled my vision, distracting both my assailant and me. Quickly, it cleared away, revealing Peter. What on earth … He looked completely out of place, wearing a crumpled T-shirt and lounge pants, no shoes, his hair in disarray.
I stared at him, gobsmacked. “What … how …”
“I can teleport. It’s not a big deal.”
Not a big deal? The only people I knew who could teleport were sorceresses like my mother and Rita, or my sorcerer great-grandfather, Roman Patel. Peter was nineteen years old. I’d never heard of someone so young having such an ability.
Before I could say anything, my attacker knocked Peter out of the way. He was about to grab me when flames rose behind him, singeing his back. He screamed out in agony, and my attention went to Peter. His hands weaved thin air into flames, then launched them at the vampire. My eyes went wide, amazed at the elemental magic he wielded.