Shadow Kissed: The Vampire’s Chosen One

Chapter 3: Secret Messages and Styx

-ELENA-

So to make tonight even weirder...I met the Sheriff. And let me tell you, I thought Gabriel was hot but Eric is on a hotness level all on his own. I felt...drawn to him. Not like normal vampire seduction but something much stronger...difficult to ignore.

Eric is at least half a foot taller than my five-foot ten-inch self, with a vampire’s naturally pale skin. He has short dark brown hair, a chiseled jaw and high cheek bones...piercing stormy blue-grey eyes...and damn, a killer body, from what I could see pushing against the black t-shirt and jeans he was wearing tonight. His build is thicker and more muscular than Gabriel’s. Not that I’m comparing or anything.

And when I went to shake his hand, I felt something strange. It was like an electrical shock the moment we touched that sent something pleasurable throughout my body. I know he felt it too because he ended up nearly crushing my hand the moment the sensations started.

After Gabriel dropped me off back at my apartment. I took a quick shower and grabbed a bite to eat before I decided that I finally needed to do it. I’ve been in L.A. for two weeks and haven’t went into Samantha’s room at my aunt’s mansion. Aunt Amelia allows the Watchers to stay at her home when they come to Los Angeles. I chose not to live there while I’m charged here because...well, I like my independence and don’t need a bunch of people watching me come and go at all times of the day. My aunt of course, understands this. She knows how me and my brother are but that doesn’t stop some of my aunt’s coven mates from commenting that I’m too big of a snob to live with them. I’d like to argue with them that that isn’t the case but I’d be wasting my breath.

“I’m sorry about Samantha, dear. I know she was a good friend of you and Vin’s.” My aunt tells me while leading me down one of the many halls of the White Mansion. My aunt’s coven houses about a hundred witches and warlocks. A larger than normal coven but the size is necessary for Los Angeles and its Hellmouth.

“Yeah, I still can’t believe it.” I say as I continue to follow her. “Was the Sheriff allowed to come and take a look at her room?” Surely, Eric would have wanted to look for evidence in her room? Anything that could have led to why Samantha died like she did...it was almost personal from what I saw from the crime scene photos. Gruesome.

“The Sheriff requested to, yes, but I had to decline seeing as how I had already searched her room shortly after her death was known.” My aunt replies with a sigh. Well, at least he tried.

“Did you find anything?” I ask softly, my emotions start to swell inside me. I’ve learned to maintain my emotions pretty well over the years but around family it still proves to be difficult.

The death of a Watcher is always a solemn time for those who knew them. It happens less now that the peace treaty is in place but still...not many people understand what we Watchers go through to protect the world. The hours of studying supernatural texts from the moment we can comprehend what we are reading...the strenuous and grueling training we go through to make sure we are in the condition we need to be to fight the forces that threaten the balance...the sacrifices we make so that when the time comes...we give our lives without a second thought. It’s not an easy life by any means but...it’s our destiny. My destiny. I have to make of it what I can...even if Death already had its cold hands around my throat, choking me, burning the flesh from my bones, sucking my soul from my body as it drug me down to the darkest depths of Hell once before...dramatic? Meh. I feel like I was being generous. If you died the way I did and endured the pain I felt...I’m sure you would agree. In some ways, I’m lucky. Very few Watchers come back from the dead, especially when magic is involved. In normal circumstances, if you’re dead...you’re dead. I’m an exception for whatever reason. Now, where I’m unlucky at...I’m f*****g traumatized. I remember every detail of the night I died. The man...the vampire that caused it all. His face still haunts me...even if he’s gone. The nightmares have lessened over the years, thankfully. My family understands and lets me do my thing...even if my brother Vincent still worries about me. He calls me like clockwork at least twice a week to make sure I’m doing okay.

Now how has dying effected me? I feel broken. Like I’m damaged goods. I force myself to look happy and act normal like I was before I died...but I’m not. I can’t manage to hold onto any romantic relationships for more than a few weeks at a time. I always manage to screw them up somehow. I haven’t been laid in months and that’s probably why I have the sudden urge to jump Eric’s bones. I’m just...screwed up.

“I’m afraid not. You know Samantha, she always kept things neat and orderly. I didn’t find anything out of the ordinary.” Amelia stops in front of Samantha’s door. “I kept everything the way she had it and no one has been allowed in her room. I knew you would want to do your own inspection.” My aunt gives me a small smile. “Are you sure you want to do this by yourself?”

I nod, sucking up the overwhelming emotions I’m feeling. “Yes.”

Amelia sighs before flicking her wrist at Samantha’s door, magically unlocking it. She did this to ensure no one else could enter the room. “Let me know if you find anything.”

“Thank you.” I say, turning the doorknob and then enter the room, closing the door behind me. I turn on the lights and release a deep breath as tears threaten to spill when I take in Samantha’s room. She has it decorated in yellow, her favorite color. “f**k. I wasn’t ready for this.” I wipe away a tear running down my cheek with the back of my hand. Her room is neat and orderly, just like my aunt said. Good o’ neat freak Samantha. I run my hand along her comforter decorated in sunflowers before I take a seat on the end of the bed. “What happened? Who killed you? And why?” I say aloud, silently hoping that Samantha’s ghost would enlighten me with these answers. Alas, no ghost. Samantha’s body was sent back to England to be buried ceremoniously within the Watcher Headquarters graveyard. It’s where I will end up one day. I sigh before I get up and begin looking through her things. I spend a good hour looking and not finding anything that could hint to why she was killed. I stop when I get to a box of pictures that Samantha had in her closet. There are pictures of Samantha, Abigail, Vincent and I...among other Watchers we were close with. I stop when I get to a picture of two young girls posing with bamboo staffs...you know, because that’s normal for Watchers posing with weapons. It’s of me and Samantha. We couldn’t have been more than twelve years old. I smile at the picture. Samantha always hated sparring with me because I was quicker than her...sometimes I would let her win and she knew it. I flip the picture over to see if I could find a date...instead I found a message.

Miranda never liked cleaning the windows in my room because of our conversations.

I stare at the message for a moment. Miranda was a maid back in England when Samantha and I lived at the Watchers Headquarters. It’s a clue. I stand up and make my way to one of the windows in the room. When we were little, Samantha and I used to leave messages on our windows for one another...conversations that only we knew about until one day Miranda watched us do it. She thought it was sweet and told us that she wouldn’t clean our windows until we were done for the day. I stare out the window. The air outside is slightly chilly, making it easy to fog up the window as I blow warm air across the glass. I watch as letters begin to form and eventually completed a question.

“Got a smoke?” I furrow my brows in confusion. What the f**k Samantha? I stare hard at the question before it begins to disappear when the glass cools. Okay. So Samantha doesn’t smoke. In fact, she always gave her blunt opinion on the matter whenever someone would light one up around her. It’s another clue. I didn’t come across any smokes when I went through her room earlier, however...I quickly walk back to the desk in the room and begin shuffling through the contents. Samantha would be appalled at the state I’m leaving her desk in. I finally find what I’m looking for...a book of matches from the bar Styx. I frown before flipping it over. On the back of the matchbook is a name...Draco.

I have a place and a name but the sun is starting to rise and more than likely this is a demon bar. It’s better to go at night. There’s only one reason why Samantha would go to all this trouble leaving clues she knew only I could find...she was being watched. She didn’t trust someone here in the coven, otherwise she would have left one of her journals like she usually did when she worked special assignments. Tomorrow night...I’ll find Draco and hopefully the reason why my childhood friend is dead.

~~~~~

-ELENA-

SoI was able to persuade Gabriel into telling me about the Styx bar. When he asked why I wanted to know I told him I was looking to get a drink to which he replied by telling me that if I wanted a drink, I needed to stop by his club. I declined...much to his disappointment. Luckily the bar is located right here in Downtown Los Angeles and only a thirty minute walk from my apartment. As I walk down the dark and dirty alley, only lit by a small light next to the entrance of the bar, I get a good whiff of sewage and piss, making me scrunch up my face in disgust.

Once at the steel door, I knock. A few seconds pass before an eye cutout slides open, revealing the amber yellow eyes of a vampire. “Slayer.”

Most supes can feel the aura radiating from a Watcher to know who we are. I nod at the vampire. “I need to speak with Willy.” I also managed to get Willy’s name from Gabriel, along with the info that he’s a ghoul. A ghoul is a human who takes a monthly dose of vampire blood for benefits such as slowed aging, advanced healing, an increase in strength, etc. They don’t turn into a vampire but they can certainly get addicted to the blood of their donor.

“One minute.” The vampire replies before shutting the eye cutout. I hear him yell something but it’s muffled through the steel door. Probably letting the whole bar know that the Slayer is about to walk in and to put anything that can get their asses in trouble away. A moment later, he opens the door and I walk in. The smell of cigarette smoke, cheap booze and some foul smelling demons is thick in the air. I school my face to remain expressionless, even though I’m secretly gagging inside. If Samantha came in here, I bet she felt the need to bleach her skin by the time she left. I walk up to the bar, behind it, a vampire is wiping off shot glasses.

“I’m here to speak to Willy.” I say. The vampire nods to a hallway over in the corner behind the bar. “Thanks.” I make my way to the hallway, pausing briefly by the open room to the side of it. There’s a large table full of vampires and demons playing what looks like poker...but that’s not what caught my eye. It’s the large basket of baby kittens sitting in the middle of the table. They’re using them instead of money. I watch as a demon raises his bet by pulling another kitten from below and adds it to the basket. I guess they didn’t get the memo that the Slayer is here. Well...I’ll be stopping by for a chitchat with them after I deal with Willy.

I resume walking down the hallway to the last door. I knock before I hear a “Enter.”

I open the door and shut it behind me for privacy. Behind a cheap looking desk is Willy counting a bunch of money with a cigarette between his lips. He pauses counting and looks up at me. “The new Slayer! I was wondering when we would finally get to meet.” Willy is a thin man, probably about my height with greasy dark hair he wears slicked back and a thick Brooklyn accent. According to Gabriel, Willy has eyes and ears everywhere. He’s the lowlife scumbag that has connections and information...which is why I’m here.

“I wish it would have been in different circumstances.” I say, looking around the small office. You would think if Willy had all the money he was counting, he could afford a nice desk...maybe brighten the bar up and make it look less...miserable.

Willy puts the money down on the desk and takes the cigarette out of his mouth, holding it between his fingers. “Yeah. Samantha was a sweetheart, always had a smile on her face when she came to my seedy little bar. I assume you were close to her?”

“I was. We grew up together.” I reply walking closer to him and stopping about a foot in front of his desk. “I need information.” Straight to the point.

Willy tilts his head to the side, studying me. “I already gave the Sheriff everything I know.” He puts the cigarette back between his lips and takes a puff. “But you’re not here for the Sheriff, are you?”

“No. I found something that might help me find Samantha’s killer.” I retrieve the matchbook from the pocket of my leather jacket and hold it out to him.

He looks at the matchbook with furrowed brows. “Samantha didn’t smoke.” He comments, taking the cigarette out of his mouth again and blowing smoke away from me. It was thoughtful, but didn’t do much good since the room is about the size of an Arby’s bathroom. “In fact, she always told me I should make the bar no smoking.”

I can’t help but chuckle. Yeah, that’s Samantha for you. “I found it in her room.” I flip the matchbook around to show him the name. “Do you know a Draco?”

Willy takes a drag of the cigarette as he looks at the name before putting the cigarette in an ashtray. “I do. But he’s not someone you want to mess around with, kid.”

I feel my eye twitch at the name kid. I can’t tell you how many old ass demons and vampires have called me that. Willy’s a ghoul over the age of a hundred, but looks like a man in his late thirties. Uh! This kid could easily whoop his ghoulish ass along with everyone in this bar! “I appreciate the concern, Willy, but I can take care of myself. Who is he?”

Willy hesitates before answering. “He’s a Sabbat and a nasty one at that. He tries to stay off the Sheriff’s radar...he’s good at it. He’s only found when he wants to be found.”

“Do you have any idea where a hideout of his would be?” Maybe if I find one of his lackeys, I can squeeze the information out of them to get what I want.

“I don’t but I do know someone who works for him occasionally.” He pauses. “Look, kid. I’m not kidding. Draco has a team of mercenaries at his disposal...”

I hold up my hand for the ghoul to stop. “Willy, I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t give two f***s if he has an entire army of frenzied vampires loaded down with bazookas.” Dramatic? A tad. “He’s the only clue I have as to why my childhood friend was tortured and murdered. I plan on finding this fucker and making him tell me what he knows...by any means necessary.”

Willy sighs heavily before taking a pen and a piece of paper. He writes down an address and a name. He hands it over to me. “Kid...”

I look up at him from the paper. I see the look of concern on his face. “Don’t go getting yourself killed. We need a good Watcher like you to manage this Hellmouth.” Hmmm. He must have gotten some background information on me...not a surprise since he is the man to go to for information. He taps his fingers on his desk. “Samantha was a great Watcher...and if she really was your friend she wouldn’t want you to go and get yourself killed.”

I give the ghoul a small smile before holding up the paper towards him. “Thanks, Willy. I’ll see you around.”