Blood betrayal book two.., p.1
Blood Betrayal: Book Two Of The Darkside Chronicles, page 1
Blood Betrayal
Book Two of the Darkside Chronicles
Olivia Hillier
Copyright © Olivia Hillier by Olivia Hillier
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Contents
1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
3. Chapter 3
4. Chapter 4
5. Chapter 5
6. Chapter 6
7. Chapter 7
8. Chapter 8
9. Chapter 9
10. Chapter 10
11. Chapter 11
12. Chapter 12
13. Chapter 13
14. Chapter 14
15. Chapter 15
16. Chapter 16
17. Chapter 17
18. Chapter 18
19. Chapter 19
20. Chapter 20
21. Chapter 21
22. Chapter 22
23. Chapter 23
24. Chapter 24
25. Chapter 25
26. Chapter 26
27. Chapter 27
28. Chapter 28
29. Chapter 29
30. Chapter 30
About the Author
Also By Olivia Hillier
Chapter 1
Liam
I’d always dreamed about Paris.
I thought that one day once school was done, Kiira and I would have taken a Europe summer break, live it up on our parents’ money before we had to knuckle down on life’s next decision like what the hell we actually wanted to do with our lives.
But experiencing it here now, knowing that none of those pressures no longer existed. And knowing what we were here to really do, not with Kiira but with the evilest, sexiest girl I had ever met. Well, this was a real treat.
“Emily,” Stella called out as she strutted down a Parisian sidewalk, her arms held out wide. Her blonde hair bounced behind her and her long white silk dress danced around her ass. I was tired. It had been a long flight and we had only just arrived in Paris with nothing but a backpack. Not that it had any essentials in it other than syringes filled with blood. Stella had nothing but her dress and shoes. But she didn’t seem to care. Neither did I really, we were here, and here was what really mattered right now. In Paris. This was the very moment I got to leave my hometown. Stick my middle finger up and say sayonara to everyone for good. I guess the way we did end up leaving the town was one big middle finger to it. But once again, I didn’t care. In fact, I was enthralled.
I kept my eyes on the back of Stella’s dress as I continued to weave through the crowd. One single glance away, my eyes becoming fixated on the Eiffel Tower ahead of us in the distance, and I lost her. She couldn’t have gone too far. I felt a trickle of sweat bead down my face; it was way too hot for my hoodie here. I stopped still in front of an empty alfresco table to my left. I sat my backpack down on the table, pulling the hooded jumper off and stuffing it in the top of my backpack. Two older women dining to the left of me, bubbling flute glasses in hand, gasped, one covering her mouth.
I rolled my eyes. I was used to the reactions when people saw my burnt, scarred face but none of them were brave enough to be quite so outlandish. I looked the woman up and down and threw my backpack back on my back. As she caught my eye, she quickly looked away, gazing out at the crowd of people moving quickly up and down the street as she took a long sip from her glass. I stood still, smiling at her and she caught my eye again. She placed her empty glass back down on the table and held her hand tightly to her chest.
“Oh, I am so sorry, young man,” she said in the poshest Parisian tone I had ever heard. Not that I had heard too many outside of the television screen. “You’re just so, so, young and I wasn’t expecting…”
“Wasn’t expecting what?” I said, keeping the smirk wide across my face as my dark eyes circled in on her. Her friend reached across the table, placing her hand on top of hers, shaking her head.
“Just drop it, honey, let it go,” she whispered under her breath. But the woman kept her eyes locked on mine.
“I just wasn’t expecting to see your face… so… so… scarred. You frightened me,” she said. I took step closer to her, smiling wider. Leaning down in front of her, my face was only a ruler away from hers. I watched her friend’s eyes bulge the closer I got, gasping almost as loud as her friend did moments ago.
“In that case, I’m sorry. The last thing that I would ever want to do to anyone is frighten anyone. Particularly on such a beautiful day in Paris,” I said, kneeling in front of her seat. Resting my hand on her knee. “I am sorry about my face,” I said, leaning in closer to whisper, “but I’m not sorry about this.” I pulled a syringe out of my back jean pocket and dug it right into her hip. Emptying the black blood into her body, I pulled it out. The woman gasped again, catching her breath as her eyes rolled in the back of her head. I stood to my feet and felt a tap on my shoulder.
I spun around to see Stella’s eyes gazing into mine, Emily standing stiff and wide eyed to her left. Stella smiled, biting her bottom lip.
“You turn me on when you do that,” she said. There was another large gasp followed by a scream behind me.
“She’s convulsing. Quick, we’ve got to get out of here. Run,” said Emily. She spun around and began to run in the opposite direction, towards the Eiffel Tower. Stella and I followed her lead, hand in hand, running closer behind her. We were quick, lightning speed, and since I had become an albet, I couldn’t remember the last time that I had to gasp for air. I was fit, agile and incredibly strong. I could run like the wind, jump like a bird for a berry. I felt light and unstoppable, but I knew that we were incredibly dense and heavy. Stella and I followed Emily for what felt like miles until she finally turned down an alleyway, coming to a stop in front of a hidden glass revolving door. It looked like something that you would see on the main streets of New York with paparazzi piled up out the front waiting to get a profitable photo of some celebrity. It didn’t look like a door that should be found in the middle of some thin dingy alleyway with white paint peeling off the building exposing its original stone.
“This is where I recommend you stay. It’s quiet and private but it’s actually really nice inside,” said Emily. She walked past the front door and leaned against the large recycling bin on the opposite side of the alleyway. I looked her up and down as she crossed her arms and her legs in front of her. She looked different, very different from the girl I had met at Vallura only a week ago. Her eyes were dark like mine, but they glowed, her skin clear and her hair shiny. It looked as though she had cut it even sorter, her dark black locks bouncing in line with her pointy chin.
“You seem different from the last time that I saw you. Come to terms with who you are now, Emily?”
Emily scoffed. “Come to terms? What are you talking about? Stella made my life a whole lot better. Paranoia, anxiety, I don’t even know what any of those feelings are anymore.” Emily smiled at Stella and Stella grinned back. “I was wrong for thinking that Stella or anyone else at Vallura, for that matter, was ill intentioned. But then I guess, that’s what happens when you’re riddled by the human mind mixed with an overwhelm of emotions and hectic experiences. The day Stella injected me, and I got to finally say goodbye to the Emily I was, was the happiest day of my life.” Stella smiled wider, biting her bottom lip as her eyes became lost in a memory before they circled back on me.
“I can see that you’ve been lucky enough to join us too?” Emily said, taking a step closer to me and placing her left hand on my cheek as she looked up at me. “Even your scars shine brighter as an albet.” She smiled. “They suit you and now you and your scars are here forever.”
Forever, I thought. Before Stella had turned me into a part of her, before we shared somewhat of the same blood, the idea of living in this body forever, looking at the scars on my face for life, made me want to escape, and sometimes, even leave it behind.
Emily let go of my face and I turned my head, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the glass revolving door. The only time I ever dared to look at it was briefly in the bathroom after a shower, but even then, I would look away, keeping face and arms hidden underneath baggy hoods even in the privacy of my own company. But now as I glared back at myself through the most misplaced door I had ever seen, I felt nothing. No hate, no disgust. The very sight of my own face no longer made me feel angry. Once again, I felt nothing.
After becoming an albet, the only true feeling I had was one of a hunter, an achiever. I felt a cold rush of blood through my veins wanting to win, wanting to take over the world. It didn’t even feel like much of a want, maybe it was more of a need. A need to spread my blood and to really complete the task that Stella had set out for us. To thank her for what she had done to me, and to eradicate as much as the human world as possible. The need to take over, the cold rush of energy and heart pumping desire, the throbbing in my groin to constantly prove myself to her, to show her that she was mine were the only two things I ever felt since becoming an albet, everything else was numb. We were the future, and now was our time to act. Stella grabbed a hold of my hand.
“So why are the two of you really here? To what do I owe the pleasure for the one and only albet power couple to join me here in my very own hometown?” said Emily.
“Let
“But first, tell me, Emily. It feels like I haven’t seen you in a long time, a lot has changed. Tell me, what have you been doing here?” Stella smiled, slowly walking around Emily.
“Well, firstly, it’s been a week. Secondly, I’ve been watching the news closely about the scene that you have been creating. It’s become world-wide news, you know.” Emily pouted her lips and rolled her eyes up to the sky as she tapped her red painted nail against her chin. “All of this has got me thinking about the very speech that you gave me, right after you turned me. You told me to sit tight. You told me to enjoy my new life, enjoy being one of the only albets in my city, let alone my country. You said that if there was a chance that I ever wanted to turn anyone, that I need to be discrete until further notice. Not to mention, you only gave me three syringes.”
“Urgh, are you serious? I only gave you three?” Stella groaned, sampling her feet still on the pavement. “Have you used them?”
Emily bit her lip, gazing back down the alleyway. “Only one, I used it in a couple of streets over actually. Sipping on a glass of wine last night. A boy, close and cute, kissed my neck. Let’s just say it was a little bit too hard and it pierced a hole in my neck, drawing my black blood to the surface, I stuck a whole needle of the little shit. Dug it right into his neck.” Emily’s laugh echoed down the alleyway. “He convulsed, I ran and disappeared, and no one suspected a single thing. For all anyone else knew it was an epileptic attack,” said Emily.
Stella reached out, squeezing Emily’s shoulder, her eyes wide and locked on her. “Please don’t tell me that he got a taste of your blood,” she said.
Emily shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”
“Your very own black blood is powerful, more and more every day that you walk this Earth as an albet. Whoever you give your blood to is incredibly important, and it will bind you together for life. And trust me, this life that we now live inside this body is an incredibly long one,” said Stella.
“Is it? Do we live forever? Is there anything that kills us? How come I heal so quickly? I cut my finger the other day and it closed up within seconds. I know that I’m an albet, my blood is black, I know the universe I’m from and I know that apparently now I can jump through black holes. But there’s so many things that you haven’t told me about what I am. About what I’m truly capable of. You didn’t even tell me what I am here to really do. Yet, I’ve seen on the news what has been happening around the town of Vallura. The people that you are turning. They’re calling it a virus, and no one really knows what is going on. I heard on the news this morning that scientists are now testing our blood. Which to be honest, I can’t wait to hear what answers they come out with. Because I want them for myself.”
“You’re right Emily, there is a lot I need to tell you. And I will, but I think we’re going to need to take a seat for that. C’mon, let’s go. Maybe you can learn a thing or two as you watch us get a room.” Stella winked and grabbed hold of my hand once again. Her hand was icy cold as she skipped towards the revolving door. The closer we got, the colder she became, and I almost felt the feeling of her rushing blood move through my body. I craved her, I wanted every part of her naked body wrapped around mine, right now.
The three of us walked into a bright yellow waiting room with old, golden floors, a large print of Van Gogh’s Irises hung on the wall in front of us, an elevator to our left, and a tall wooden reception desk to our right. Stella smiled, interlocking her hands together in front of her. She cracked her knuckles and broke out into her famous cheeky smile as she glided towards the counter, Emily and I following closely behind. A man with bright blue eyes and thick black curly hair stood up from behind the counter. He had to have been in his late thirties, maybe even forty. The stubble on his chin was greying and he was wearing a thick black jumper, on a warm afternoon in Paris, not even breaking a sweat. Startled as he saw Stella, he ran his fingers through his hair. I stood closely behind her, but I didn’t need to see her face to know the look that she was giving him. Stella had the power to lock anyone into her dark eyes, one of her many powers.
“Can I help you, dear?” the man said, smiling on the left side of his mouth. Stella leaned over the top of the counter placing both her hands on top of it.
“Yes, you can. You see, me and my friends here,” she said, pointing back at Emily and I. But the man never left her gaze. Probably a blessing really; one look at my face and it would have taken him out of Stella’s feminine spell. “We’d really like a room, right now. For tonight, and to be honest this has been a really last-minute spontaneous trip, so I don’t know how long we’re really going to need it for, but maybe a couple of weeks,” she continued, dancing her fingertips along the top of the desk.
“Sure,” said the greying bearded man, taking a seat back behind the desk, typing away into his computer. “I do have two rooms available for at least a week, but we are just moving into our peak period so I can’t tell you how long that I will have each of them available for. If you like I can book you into one for a week for now and then as soon as you know how long you might be staying for, I can extend the stay before anyone else books it.”
Stella laughed. “Oh, c’mon now. You seem like a really lovely guy, but this place, really? It doesn’t exactly look as though people are knocking down the doors to stay here.”
The man smiled, surprisingly unoffended by Stella’s remark. “You say that now, but that’s only because you’ve only seen reception, which yes, I agree could do with a facelift. But our rooms, trust me, they have just gone through a renovation whilst still keeping their original Parisian look. They are divine, I’ll have you know a lot of people like to stay here once they find out about us. Our hotel is how, you might like to say, a hidden gem and a very pleasant surprise.”
“Oh really?” said Stella. “I like the sound of that. You know I like to think that some people would like to say the very same thing about me.” She winked, slowly walking around to the gap at the end of the high reception desk. She hiked her dress up, grabbing hold of a syringe that was tucked neat inside her underwear strap. “Well in that case, you have to show me pictures of these rooms that you have available. I want to make sure that we choose the one with the best view. Maybe if I see a picture of them, it may help me decide how long I want to stay for.” She walked behind the desk, leaning down, behind him, her breast pressing against his arm and her hand resting tightly on the top of his other shoulder. The man sat up straighter and smiled. Stella’s eyes darted down into his lap and grinned as she looked back at the computer. She gasped with glee. “Oh my gosh, you were so right. It is truly divine. Let me enjoy croissants on that balcony. Which room number is that?”
“Three-eleven,” said the man.
“Perfect,” said Stella. As she straightened, her voice dropped. “In that case, I think we’ll stay here as long as we like,” she laughed and jabbed a needle into the side of his neck. His main vein bulged as she emptied the black blood. He shook as his eyes rolled back into his head. Emily gasped. Stella pulled the syringe from his neck, and he fell off the seat onto the floor.
“What’s the matter?” Stella asked, staring back at Emily. “I thought you said you’ve also done this to a guy before.”
“I have, I just, err, I guess I ran before I saw him… well, before I saw him like that,” said Emily as we both ran back around behind the desk watching the French man convulse on the floor. Stella stood over him, pulling a bunch of keys from his front pocket, she turned around unlocking the back cabinet on the far wall behind the desk, looking up and down the rows and rows of keys searching for three-eleven.
“And we’re going to run again, before he gets out of this too,” said Stella, not turning around.
