Discover Top Posts Tagged with #vampire fight

Chapter Four Confusion (Part 3)

“Look,“ Triston said. ” I know you’re mad. You’ve obviously had a terrible day, but I don’t like those guys.“

Triston’s hand was still clutched around her wrist. Bryn seethed; she slammed the tall glass in her other hand to his chest, sloshing orange and red liquid onto his vest.

"Had I been planning on dancing with them,” She grit her teeth. “I think that I’d have the right to make that decision on my own.”

She broke her wrist from Triston’s grasp. Simultaniously, she let go of her glass, and Triston scrambled to catch it. Triumphantly, she paced away. She could hear Triston’s voice behind her, speaking to Jamison in an exasperated tone. ‘What the hell- wha- what’d I do wrong?’

“Jesus,” Tailynn scoffed as Bryn passed her. Quickly, she scrambled to keep up with Bryn. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say there was some Tequila in that whiskey.”

Bryn tried to shrug off the heat of her mood. Her strides were long and purposeful as she barreled toward the door. “Whiskey can get me riled too.”

The cool dark air beyond the doors were thankfully enough to calm her heat. It washed over her skin, clearing her agitated mind. Bryn weaved through hot dancing bodies until she found a gap in the crowd near the speakers.

Bryn bobbed her head to the bass. It shook the ground with each rhythmic pulse. The people dancing around her obeyed it’s trance, they were smiling, moving, and something about it was very inticing. Bryn wanted to join, so she let herself enjoy it, wondering why she’d been so opposed to dancing in the first place. Tailynn was right, this was fun. Bryn spun in a circle, moving her body to the beat.

A woman with a large tray of small plastic cups walked by.

“Jell-O shots” Tailynn squealed. She thrust a wad of dollar bills at the waitress, who handed them each a handful of Jell-O cups.

Bryn grabbed at the cups, ecstatic to feed her growing buzz. As she spun, she tossed her head back, letting the bitter Jell-O slide down her throat. She stumbled, sure that she’d just drunkenly rammed herself into another person. The remaining cups of Jell-O in her hands toppled to the floor. When she looked up, warmth flooded to her cheeks.

“I-” She stammered. “I’m sorry.”

It was him, the man whom she’d been admiring at the bar.

“It’s my fault.” He smiled. “I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

Bryn couldn’t help but notice how nice his smile was. The last time she’d seen him, gazing seriously at the T.V above the bar, she hadn’t imagined that he smiled often, but the lines on his face said differently. He had crisp laugh lines at his eyes, and deep creases at either side of his smile.

“It’s not your fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She blushed. “Maybe it was a good thing I dropped the rest of my Jell-O shots.”

“Ah, what?” Again, she was surprised by how this man with such a masculine gaze, had so much warmth in his grin. “Not the rest of your Jell-O shots.”

They both glanced toward the dance floor as someone drunkenly stomped over one of the plastic cups with a crunch.

“Let me make it up to you.” He said. “I’ll buy you a drink”

His skin was an impeccable color; cinnamon came to mind. He touched her, steadying her by the elbow as she wavered. His fingers were cool, almost flush with the temperature outside. Not like Kyle, who was hot blooded, like a spark when their skin connected.

Bryn swallowed, sadness consumed her as she thought of Kyle.

“I’ve got a boyfriend.” Bryn blurted over the music.

What the fuck. What was she doing? She was so nervous. It just came out.

“I’ve got a girlfriend.“ He countered playfully.

She felt so exposed when he looked her up and down, his gaze hovering just over her collarbone.

"What’s your name?” He asked.

“Uh-” She stumbled. She was stammering for many reasons: She was drunk, her mouth felt numb and she was sure she was slurring.

“It’s Bryn.”

“I’m Hayze.”

He reached for her, brushing away bits of hair that stuck in the corner of her mouth. His fingers barely brushed her lips, and it made her feel confused. It had been so long since anyone other than Kyle had touched her like that. She couldn’t pinpoint the way it made her feel. Nervous, maybe? Bryn pulled away. She searched for Tailynn.

She was gone.

“Did you see where my friend went?” She shouted over the music.

“I saw her leave with Alex.”

“Alex?”

“My friend with the curly hair. I can help you find her.” He suggested kindly. “I’ve been wanting to get out of here anyway. We’re being watched.”

He glanced over his shoulder. Bryn did the same. This damn buzz mad her vison blurry, but when she focused she saw Jamison outside of the crowd with a whiskey and coke in his hand; Jack Daniels, no doubt. He leaned leisurely against one of the tall tables, his eyes scanning a crowd of dancing girls. Bryn fumed. Triston probably sent him.

“Damnit.” she cursed allowed.

“What? Is that your Boyfriend?” Hayze asked.

“No.” She said. “Let’s get out of here and find my friend.”

She grabbed for his hand. He took it, stalling briefly in surprise before he guided her away from the crowd with sly grace. Her mind was blank and unconcerned when Hayze led her into an alley nestled between the bar and another building made of bricks.

“Is this where you saw Tailynn go?” She peered passed Hayze and into the empty alley.

It was lit dimly, casting a yellow glow over his Caribbean skin. His smile lines decorated his face quite handsomely, and he shrugged.

"No.“ He said. "I Just had a sneaking suspicion that you were looking for an excuse to be alone with me.”

He moved uncomfortably close, so close that Bryn backed into the wall behind them. His hands went for her, cinching at the bare skin between her skirt and crop top. Bryn gasped, surprised by just how cool his touch was. His hands were calloused and scratchy, his biceps were the size of grapefruits and his grin was very mischievous.

“You think I am going to kiss you, don’t you?” He said blatantly.

Her heart hammered with millions of anxieties. Was he? Did she want him to? Should she be alone with him?

“I-” She began.

She stumbled for words, thinking of ways to politely decline this handsome man. Before Bryn could finish her rambling, he crushed his lips to hers. He was fierce, so fierce that his kisses weren’t at all pleasurable. Bryn tried to pull back. Kyle had always been gentle. Even when he bit her, it wasn’t completely aggressive of him

Suddenly, Hayze stopped. One of his hands was fondling her neck. Bryn reached to swipe it away, to tell him she was finished. She even contemplated lying about her relationship with Jamison in order stop this man, but abruptly, he peeled back the large dried scab that her necklace had once hidden.

“What the-” She yelped.

Bryn didn’t finish. Something about the look in his eye petrified her. Not a muscle on her body moved as he fixated on the skin beneath her necklace. He dipped his head and pressed his lips to the trail of blood that had trickled to her sternum. Her heart slammed so hard in her chest that she could barely breathe. His tongue slid up her neck. Her legs trembled, wishing to run, but her feet stayed glued to the ground, unable to move.

“Your boyfriend,” He grimaced, like he’d just tasted something sour. “He is the one who claimed you, isn’t he?”

What the hell was he talking about? She tried to answer but her head spun.

“J-just don’t hurt me.”

“Damnit, don’t play dumb with me!” Hayze slammed a fist into the logs that framed the building behind her. “Don’t act like you aren’t into guys like me, that you didn’t spot me from across the way. It’s written all over your neck. I’ve met sluts like you, begging for your next bite.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She squealed.

Tears came down and she found a burst of clarity amidst the drunken spinning of her head. Her fist shot against his cheek, but Hayze didn’t budge. He grabbed her fist, squeezing it so tightly it felt as though the tiny bones inside were breaking.

“You’ve been claimed, you’re running around with wolves and I can taste Fae in your blood.” He hissed.

His dark Brown eyes flashed until they were engulfed in black. Bryn blinked. She had seen this before, but it was not like she had seen in Kyle. Hayze’s eyes only dilated to cover the brown.

His pupils, however, weren’t what scared her; it was his canines. They dropped low, gleaming fearlessly.

Bryn scrambled backward. She attempted to dart, but he threw his arms at either side of her, lunging for her throat. She waited to die. She expected to die.

Instead, He disappeared, hooked away with a loud ‘Oof’ and a whoosh of air. Another loud ‘oof’ drug her attention to her right. It was Jamison. He was holding Hayze by his neck, slamming him against the brick wall.

“Give me one fucking reason why I shouldn’t kill you.” Jamison spit, ruthlessness set in his muscles.

Bryn’s heart was beating so hard it could have leapt from her chest. She kept envisioning Hayze’s eyes, his teeth. There was only one explanation.

“Jamie!” She said, choking over breath and adrenaline. Panic was seizing her lungs. “Jamie, be careful. He’s a-”

Jamison turned toward Bryn at the sound of his name. At the split second lapse of attention, Hayze escaped Jamison’s grip like lightening. He appeared at Bryn’s side in a blur, grasping a fistful of her hair. Her skin burned as it stretched away from the scalp.

“Is this why you’ve been following me Jamison?” Hayze shook Bryn. “You’ve got a hard on for the faery girl?”

Jamison lunged for her, but he was too late. Hayze threw Bryn as easily as if she were a baseball. She flew through the air and smashed face first into the dumpster nearest to them. It was beyond any pain she’d ever felt. She convulsed, too short of breath to scream.

Footsteps echoed, and Bryn feared that Hayze was coming to finish her off. She fought through the pain to open her eyes and found shoes. Adidas. The same style Jamison had worn since High school.

He knelt to Bryn, her breath a sharp mixture of wheezes and screams. Bryn’s fists twisted into Jamison shirt, pulling him down toward her, seeking his aid as he surveyed the damage done to her face.

“Get control of your breath, Bryn.” He panted. “I don’t have time to help you. I need you to control that shit right now.”

Jamison slammed a hand over her mouth and Bryn’s panic ensued. Her fists were winding even tighter circles into his sleeves as her chest heaved up and down.

“Now Bryn!” He shouted. His face was darting to the left and back to her again, keeping an eye on Hayze. Hayze was walking slowly toward them, his footsteps echoing amidst the hollow alleyway. “Breath through your nose, count to three, you know the fucking drill, just make it happen.”

Bryn sucked in a long breath through her nose as she tried to control her mind, her breathing. She counted to three and repeated the words she’d been taught to chant. I am here, I am safe, I am in control. I am here, I am safe, I am in control.

“Leave now, or Heaven help me, I’ll rip out your throat.” Jamison yelled throatily over his shoulder, interrupting Bryn’s internal chant.

“Tsk, Tsk.” Hayze wagged his finger. “Ripping out throats? That’s my job.”

Bryn’s head throbbed in pain. She wanted to close her eyes. Her body was cold, so cold. The only warmth she felt came from Jamison’s hands as they left her mouth and grasped at her forearms, her shoulders, and then pulled her up from under her armpits.

“You need to work with me here.” Jamison struggled. “Get up.”

She obeyed, commanding her knees to tuck themselves under her body.

“Don’t move until I say so.” He warned. “This bastard is fast.”

“Don’t bother with her.” Hayze scoffed. “She’s already claimed, she wouldn’t be interested in you.”

Hayze flew toward Jamison in a blur, but Jamison stopped him with a reach of his hand, roaring as he sent Hayze sailing into the logs of the bar behind him. Hayze’s body tornadoed through the side of Dukes. Each polished trunk buckled in on itself, creating a hole in the cabin-like building. Without Jamison’s permission, Bryn ran through the gaping hole. Each bouncing stride shook the broken bones in her face.

Fight or flight had kicked in, and the only thing her body could comply with was running, running far away from Hayze. It was an odd reaction. When she was an angsty tween, and Jamison was even more testosterone driven, he and Bryn had partaken in many of each other’s bouts. Had she not been so frightened, so blown away by the man with snake-like fangs, she would have stood by Jamison.

She blurred passed crowds of people, not once thinking that she should turn back and help her friend. Her clarity was fading, and she wanted to make it to the door before panic stole her breath and swept her from her feet.

When she reached the doors, she was exhausted. She could see flashing blue and red lights. She squinted. She had seen this before. She remembered the chaos from her dream.

She’d dreamt this. Envisioned it. Predicted it?

Bryn stumbled out the door and down the steps, flopping onto the sidewalk and under the wrap around porch.

It was dark here, cold, and the dirt beneath her was damp. She curled into a ball, the neon lights from the bar spilled through the gaps in the wooden porch. Blue and pink hues lit the brown earth, her bloodied skin.

Bryn grabbed at her temples, pressing hard to relieve the dull throb inside. Her fingers grew damp and when she pulled her hands from her face, she found them sticky with blood. Frantically, Bryn wiped at her face again, only to smear her hands with more red.

Footsteps pounded over her head as people fled the bar. She scurried backward, pressing herself against the base of the building. She shivered as she recalled the things Hayze said. “I can taste Fae in your blood”. He called her a “Faery girl” as he shook her.

“Bryn.” She heard Jamison gasp. “What the hell are you doing under here?”

Only one of her eyes opened properly, the other was swelled shut. She saw him peeking from under the stairs, the neon lights dancing over his blue plaid flannel.

“Hiding.” She murmured.

“Well, he’s gone.” Jamison sighed. Glumly, he crawled under the stairs to join her. “Those shit heads ran, both him and Alex. How’s the breathing?” He asked. “Are you still panicking?”

“I’m breathing.” She said weakly. “And I’m not having a panic attack if that’s what you’re asking, but I’m fucking panicking. What was that Jamie? That guy, he- he was-”

“I know what he was.” Jamison interjected nervously, then he handed a flask to her. “You should drink this.”

Bryn brought the flask close to her face and disjointedly peered into the opening with her good eye.

“This is absinthe.” She slurred. She recognized it because her father used to drink it. “You want me more fucked up than I already am?”

“It uh,” He tightened his lips, causing his dimples to flare. “It carries healing properties for the Fae.”

The Fae? There was that word again.

“Just drink it Bryn.”

Skeptically, she tipped the flask back, emptying the rest of the contents. Jamison had just saved her life; at this point she would jump off of a cliff if he told her it was good for her.

The relief was instantaneous. The liquid intensified her drunk and her whole face went numb, a break from the pain. Colors were vibrant. Flashing lights bounced from place to place, lulling her to sleep.

“Jamie.” She felt her top-heavy head fall onto his shoulder. He tensed, shifting uncomfortably underneath her head until she fell drunkenly in his lap.

“You’re heavier than you look Bryn.” He groaned uncomfortably, but then reluctantly shifted to hold her as you would do for an injured, drunken family member.

“Am I a faery?”

“You could say that.” He answered slowly. He had finally settled, no longer tense under her closeness but aloof, uncaring as he propped his knee up and shifted her weight.

“And I am Claimed?” She asked before she nodded into an existence of her own world and absinthe.

She felt him brush the hair from her neck, when he found the spot that Kyle had bitten, his breath hitched.