CHAPTER I - Briefcase
Come one thousand years of revenant glory, / There shall be born, of man and blood, a boy; / And with soul pure and eyes of green ablaze, / He’ll destroy all the revenant who meet his gaze.
-Prophecy foretold by Sire O’Neil, Third Patriarch of the Arch Order
In the twenty-two years I have been alive I, Lillian Castor, have done some pretty stupid things and always come out on top.
That is, until tonight.
For some reason I’d gotten it into my head that I could take on a revenant weaponless.
Well, not totally weaponless.
I’d attempted to use the briefcase I’d snatched from him to inflict some blunt force trauma but, unfortunately, being bashed with the case had done little more than piss him off.
And now the stupid stunt I’d tried to pull will be the end of me.
I peel down a darkened street at a sprint, cutting sharp into an alley—only to find it stops dead at a brick wall.
Shit.
Spinning on my heel to face the alley entrance, dread pools in my stomach as the echo of his footfalls slow to a stop not thirty feet in front of me.
The night is dark with the new moon in the sky, giving little visibility down the narrow, windowless alley. Steam rises from the wet pavement, laying thick fog low in the darkness. Somewhere behind me, the waning light from a streetlamp dimly reflects off the slick cement.
Grasping the briefcase to my chest, I try desperately to see past the fog and into the shadows, heart racing both from the run and my growing trepidation. The fog hangs before me, a grey curtain against a black background; my breathing the only sound permeating the silence of the still night.
I know what he’s doing, dragging things out like this.
He wants me scared.
When I’m scared, I smell sweeter.
And the blood pumps faster through my veins.
I narrow my eyes and concentrate on slowing my heart rate—breathing deeper and steadying myself. I’m not about to give him what he wants.
That does the trick.
Frustrated, the revenant materializes out of the darkness, his suit slightly disheveled from the chase. His hair is long and his bangs hang in oily clumps down his forehead, but they do nothing to hide the red glow of his eyes as they set upon me with a hunger that makes me shiver.
“Come here, pretty girl,” he hisses, gliding toward me through the haze of the fog. His voice gives away his excitement.
Saliva pools in my mouth as I fight against my gag reflex. “Back off, demon! Or I’ll burn everything in this briefcase!”
I move my fingers to the clasps to further make my point, only to discover they’re securely locked in place.
Damnit—!
The airy chuckle that crackles from the revenant does nothing to ease my nerves. “If you don’t struggle, I can make it nice for you. Sweet. And. Quick.” He enunciates each word as if already tasting me upon his tongue.
Skin prickling with disgust, I shuffle back as he steps closer, only to stop when my back meets the cool brick of my narrow prison.
“S-Stop. I’ll… I’ll—”
His hulking form pins me hard against the wall. One cold, pale hand grasps my shoulder. The other reaches up to push my dirty-blonde hair aside, exposing my neck, and I cringe as he runs his nail down the vein there. I try to push him away but find I’m unable to move, stuck between his steel grasp and the bricks.
I can’t believe it.
This soulless demon is going to smash me to this wall and suck the life from me like a bug in a spider’s web and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Not one damn thing.
I’d have preferred to die almost any other way than by the hands of a revenant, but I suppose it was to be expected given that I’d done my darndest to be quite the nuisance to them over the last year.
Closing my eyes, I relax into his hold, swearing when the demon begins purring with pleasure. I feel the heat of his breath against my neck as he opens his mouth wide to rest his elongated fangs against my skin just above my vein.
Then he bites.
And my body becomes fire.
Never in my whole life have I been in so much pain.
Not when I broke my collar bone sparring with my brother a few years back.
Not when I sliced open half my palm fixing dinner last week.
Never.
My blood is molten as it slugs through my veins, igniting me from the inside out. I want to scream, want to cry, but I’m numb with the flames that consume me as the revenant sucks my very soul from my body.
At the edges of my vision the world starts to darken, slowly closing in on me.
Then, nearly as quickly as it came, the pain is gone.
The pressure lifts.
My legs are weak—too weak—and I slip down the wall to collapse onto the wet pavement, my body warm and light as if I might float away. Almost from outside of myself, I realize the revenant is no longer drinking from me.
But I’m not dead yet.
Why has he stopped?
Using the last of my energy, I lift my head to gaze down the alley. The revenant falls to the ground before me and decomposes instantly. There’s nothing left of him but an oozing pile of ash and blood.
I should be afraid. Something killed that revenant, strong from having just fed on me, and no doubt it will finish me off next. I should be afraid, but I’m too tired to be afraid. My eyelids feel as though they might glue themselves shut, but something catches my attention…
A set of glowing green eyes.
Watching me.
Then my world goes dark.
