Rapid Pulse (Violet Memory Book 1) Read online

  Rapid Pulse

  Odette Michael

  Copyright © 2020 Odette Michael

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission from the author.

  Cover design by: Sevahc

  For my amazing husband. Our story will always be my favorite.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1 Just The Blink Of An Eye

  Chapter 2 Your Blood Is Sweet

  Chapter 3 Close To Death

  Chapter 4 Claimed

  Chapter 5 Three Options

  Chapter 6 Hysteria

  Chapter 7 Things Worse Than Dying

  Chapter 8 Jasmina

  Chapter 9 Silver

  Chapter 10 Through His Eyes

  Chapter 11 Lucy And Elias

  Chapter 12 Inevitable Reunion

  Chapter 13 Broken Heart

  Chapter 14 One Last Selfish Thing

  Chapter 15 Follow The Trail Of Red

  Chapter 16 Blood Share

  Acknowledgements

  About The Author

  Chapter 1 Just The Blink Of An Eye

  “You ever plan on leaving tonight, Kara? Your grandmother is sure to be needing you.”

  I smoothed the folded shirts and placed them on the shelf. “Sorry to hold you up, Candice. I’ve been running behind more than usual today.”

  My boss licked her fingers and continued counting her stack of bills. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve got a lot on your plate for someone your age.”

  I cracked my knuckles. “Things are ok,” I lied.

  Candice looked up, eyebrows raised. “Fresh out of high school and about to go to college while you balance a job and take care of a grandmother with Alzheimer’s? Girl, I’m a single mother of three little brats who think shoving crayons up their noses is something that has to be done before dinner, and I wouldn’t trade places with you for anything.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at her insolence. Candice’s obnoxious personality made her a very interesting boss, and being a family friend, she had been kind enough to let me work for her small clothing store after my parents died in a plane crash half a year ago.

  The smile faded from my face as the memory surfaced. I swallowed hard and tried to calm my racing heart. I was getting better. I really was. I no longer cried myself to sleep every night. I could even go into their bedroom now without breaking into pieces.

  But the memory was so clear. Dad and Mom packing. Me pitching a fit because I had to take care of Grandma while they went to Italy for a second honeymoon. The phone call saying they were safe that never came. The news on the TV, the woman’s monotonous voice telling me that my parents’ plane was somewhere on the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.

  Candice popped her gum, snapping me out of my dark thoughts. She stuffed the money into her bag, zipped it up, and sighed. “Look, Kara. I didn’t mean—”

  I held up my hands. “It’s fine. Really. Everything’s fine.”

  She didn’t look like she believed me. “How is your grandma?”

  I slid my arms into my light brown jacket. “As good as can be expected, I guess. Most of the time she thinks I’m my mom.”

  Candice popped her gum again, nodding. “You do look exactly like Myra. You’re lucky you got her pretty hazel eyes instead of your father’s muddy brown ones.”

  I sheepishly ran my fingers through my red-gold curls, fighting the tell-tale stinging at the back of my eyes. “Mom was prettier than me.”

  Candice shrugged. “At least your boobs are bigger.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh as I followed her out the door. She locked it and winked at me. “It’s good medicine to laugh, girl. Why do you think I act like such a nitwit around you?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “When were you ever acting?”

  Candice smiled and lightly punched my shoulder. “There’s the Kara I know.” For once, her face grew serious. “Time really does heal all wounds, girl. Just remember that.”

  I bit my lip to keep control and nodded.

  She dangled her keys in front of me. “You sure you don’t want a ride home? I know you like walking, but I worry about you being alone in the dark. Lystelle is not exactly the safest city in Maine.”

  Not for the first time, I wondered if she knew about my fear of the dark, a childish phobia that still haunted me even though I was eighteen. I patted the side of my jeans. “I carry a pocketknife. Walking clears my head, and the doctor said exercise will help my tachycardia.”

  Candice whistled through her coffee-stained teeth. “You’re too young for heart problems, hon.”

  I scuffed my shoe against the ground. “It’s just stress. I didn’t develop it until my parents . . . Well, I need to get home. The home nurse will give me the evil eye if I’m too late. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  Candice turned and waved over her shoulder. “Nine o’clock, bright and early.”

  Shoving my hands into my pockets, I started walking. I had five miles to go until I got home. Lystelle was a smallish city near the coast surrounded by copious amounts of trees. I’d always wanted to live on the outskirts, but right now I was just grateful my parents had paid the house off. Working at Candice’s Belle of the North didn’t cover much, and now there was college to worry about.

  I started biting my nails. My scholarship I’d received from my barely decent GPA didn’t cover books, and I had no idea how I was going to pay for them. The money my parents had left me was long gone. Grandma’s insurance didn’t cover everything, and she had to have a nurse stay with her while I was at work. She had to have her cable TV; it calmed her, so that was one extra expense I just couldn’t get rid of. It was mostly soap operas that kept her attention, as if a part of her diseased brain unconsciously acknowledged the shows she used to watch religiously. Maybe ditch the cable and get Netflix? Did Netflix even have soap operas?

  I crossed Kerith Street and spat out a fingernail. I was supposed to be clearing my head instead of worrying, but I couldn’t help it. I pulled my jacket tighter around myself, ignoring the growing pit in my stomach caused by the darkness, walking so close to the streetlights that I nearly ran into the poles.

  I looked down at the concrete as a man in athletic wear jogged by. Candice probably knew I was also trying to save gas money, and that was why she kept offering me rides home. She had already given me a job and as much overtime as she could afford; I wasn’t about to use her as a taxi service, too.

  I pulled my outdated cell phone out of my pocket. Three texts from Lila and two missed calls from Miles. Guilt washed through me. I’d been so busy lately; I had barely spoken with either of them for weeks. I had a feeling they were my friends in name only these days, and it was completely my fault.

  My shaking fingers texted a promise to Lila that we would watch bad movies tomorrow night. It wouldn’t happen, and she knew that just as I did. Even so, I knew she would reply that she was looking forward to it.

  I pressed send and scrolled to my voicemail. I put my phone to my ear, smiling sadly at Miles’s worried voice.

  Without warning, the voice was gone. There was a faint crack when my phone hit the ground as a streak of black flew into me, lifting me off my feet and flinging me into a nearby alley. I cried out in pain as my back was thrown against a brick wall, something incredibl
y strong and icy pinning me there.

  I could only make out a pair of glowing, green eyes before they disappeared against my shoulder. Sharp razors sank into my neck, and pain seared through me so quickly I could barely scream.

  I couldn’t move. Couldn’t reach my pocketknife. The feeble screams died in my throat. I felt the warmth of my blood flowing down my neck and soaking my jacket. I felt my heart beat faster than it ever had before, distorted and uneven as my attacker drained me.

  Life faded and turned black even though my eyes were open. And then I saw them. I saw my parents.

  Dad smiled at me, reached out his hand. He said the words he used to always say to me before bedtime when I was a little girl and afraid to go to sleep because of the dark.

  “It’s just the blink of an eye, Kara. Just the blink of an eye and you’ll be awake again.”

  I knew I was dying. I knew I was dying, yet I smiled. “Just the blink of an eye,” I managed to choke out.

  There was pain. So much pain, and somehow, it wasn’t only my own. Something foreign trickled into my mind.

  Then there was nothing. Nothing at all.

  Chapter 2 Your Blood Is Sweet

  Sound came back to me. The crackling of a fire. The ticking of a clock. My breathing.

  I was afraid to open my eyes, afraid to shatter the illusion of peace my attacker had ironically blessed me with. That perfect vision of my parents that was fading, fading.

  Gone.

  My eyes snapped open. I was curled up on a wooden floor next to a set of heavy, dark crimson drapes. I sat up and leaned back against the draped window, my head spinning as I examined my surroundings.

  The room was very large and dim, and the old-fashioned furnishings were something I’d only ever seen pictures of. A four-poster mahogany bed with black blankets dominated the center of the room. An oval mirror encrusted with red stones rested near an ancient dresser. There was a piano in one corner of the room, an easel next to it. The only light in the room came from the golden fireplace and the candles along the walls.

  This was not how I’d imagined the afterlife. But if I were really dead, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t feel this crappy. I was cold, my fingers were shaking, and I was very thirsty. My skin was clammy, and I was alarmingly disoriented.

  Pain at my neck.

  Slowly, my fingers found the side of my neck. Traced the two puncture wounds.

  I clamped my hands over my mouth to silence the scream that poured from my throat. Fear and adrenaline rushed through my veins, awakening my fuzzy senses. I shot up off the ground, took deep breaths, and tried to calm my heart that was going into overdrive more so than usual.

  A dream. I was having a bad dream. A normal one at first, a routine of my life. I’d made breakfast for Grandma like always. I’d gone to the bank. I’d gone to the pet store. I’d gone to work. And then on the way home, I’d been attacked. Thrown into an alley, crushed against a wall as someone had . . . drunk my blood.

  I reached for my pocketknife. It was gone. My hands raked through my long curls. “Just a dream. It’s just a bad dream. Just the blink of an eye. Just the . . .”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and slapped myself.

  Waited. Counted to ten, then to twenty. Pinched my thigh for good measure.

  I opened my eyes.

  I was still here.

  I stumbled backwards, my hands reaching blindly behind me, finding the heavy drapes. A sliver of sunlight washed into the room.

  Something in the darkest corner of the room moved. Faster than my eyes could follow, it rushed toward me and yanked the drapes from my hands, making the sunlight disappear.

  I screamed and fell back against the wall. And then I finally saw him.

  His eyes were the brightest green I had ever seen, glowing against his too-pale skin. He was tall, at least six inches taller than me. His hair was jet black, too long, with strands of it obscuring his strange eyes. He wore a black T-shirt and dark jeans. His face was staggeringly perfect, cold and calculating, almost devoid of emotion.

  But those eyes. I recognized those eyes as they stared down at me, not a single spark of humanity present in their depths.

  “You,” I whispered through cold lips.

  His head tilted to the side, studying me as I cowered against the wall. Then his mouth finally moved.

  “Do not touch the drapes.”

  I swallowed hard, glancing at the drapes. My hand unconsciously went to the wounds on my neck again, and I noticed his strange eyes following my every movement.

  My every cell screamed at the conclusion I was trying to suppress and fight. It was unthinkable, but it was also the most logical and terrifying explanation of what he was. I didn't want to believe it. I refused to even think of the word.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, too afraid to look at him. “What do you want with me? Why am I here?”

  Several minutes went by in silence. I did not open my eyes. I concentrated on trying to breathe normally, on how I could possibly escape if he really happened to be the creature I thought he was.

  Finally, he spoke, his voice unsettlingly smooth and soft. “Listen to your heart fly, fighting so hard to keep you alive.” A trace of amusement trickled into his words. “Not that it matters. It will not have to fight much longer.”

  A shuddering breath forced its way through me, making my whole body tremor. It took every ounce of willpower to not cry out in fear.

  “Why didn’t you just kill me before? Why bring me here?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  There was no reply. I waited for at least ten minutes before opening my eyes slightly.

  He was right in front of me, his face mere inches from mine. I choked out a whimper, frozen in terror.

  He smiled, but it wasn’t a smile. There was no word to describe the twist of cruelty that was his mouth.

  “You are here to satisfy my thirst.”

  I shook my head, but not because I didn’t believe him. I would be an idiot to doubt his words when the evidence was perforated into my neck and when I could see the blood on my jacket, stiff and smelling of metal. I shook my head out of sheer disbelief that I would have to suffer at this monster’s hands.

  How could anyone’s fate be so dark?

  “I don’t suppose you could do me a favor and just get it over with quickly?” I asked, not trying to antagonize but distract. I allowed my fingers to move half an inch toward the drapes.

  But his eyes missed nothing. Their gaze shot to my twitching fingers, and the cruel smile evaporated from his face. “I would not try it,” he said, carefully emphasizing his words.

  I gulped. The iciness of his tone frightened me more than even his gaze, but I made myself keep my eyes open this time as he studied me for a thousand heartbeats.

  “So you realize what I am?”

  I shuddered. “I think so.”

  He took a step back, looking me over. “Usually humans do not believe so easily, and they also do not show this certain amount of courage.”

  I folded my arms around myself, trying to hold it together. Courage? More like self-preservation. I wanted to shatter, to cry and scream and run. But every bone in my body warned me that any more sudden movements or attempts at touching the drapes would result in a more painful death than he already had planned.

  I didn’t know what to do or say. Finally, I managed a limp shrug. “Then you usually pick idiots for your dinner. Only a moron would try to deny what you are.”

  I dug my fingers into my side to make myself say the next word. The word. The word that my entire existence now depended upon.

  “Vampire.”

  He moved closer to me, close enough that his chest nearly touched my body. I didn’t dare move or even breathe. His eyes stayed focused on the pulse pounding at my throat for several moments before coming to rest on my face.

  He leaned down toward me. I found myself lost in his gaze, almost hypnotized by the glow. I couldn’t move.

  “It was your rapid pulse that drew m
e to you. It was curiosity that kept you alive, Kara Alyne Deuel. Maybe it will prove to keep you alive this time as well.”

  My blood turned to ice. I felt myself go even paler.

  “You . . . you know my name?” I mouthed.

  My heart palpitated as he tucked a curl behind my ear. “The blood connection. When a vampire feeds from the vein, they touch the mind of their prey. I witnessed a sample of you, saw your mind’s gift to you when you saw your parents.” His head tilted to the side. “Your last words were intriguing, enough so that I spared you. People usually beg or say someone’s name before they die.”

  Tears filled my eyes. I couldn’t hold it together anymore. “Please . . . please let me go. Don’t . . .”

  His hand went to my collarbone and tightened, his other hand resting against my neck.

  “Your blood is sweet,” he whispered. “The sweetest I have ever tasted.” He bent down, and his mouth caressed my neck, gentle enough that it felt like a kiss. I shuddered in terror as the tears spilled over.

  “Please,” I begged.

  There was a soft sound, something being released as two sharp points jabbed my skin.

  “So strange. Why does a part of me hope you survive?”

  Before I could make sense of his words, pain lanced inside my neck, and the world flooded black.

  But not before I again felt something brush my mind. Something I couldn’t place. Something that was lost, alone, and unmistakably inhuman. Then the name.

  Gabriel. Gabriel Vincent Arundel.

  Chapter 3 Close To Death

  I was at the mercy of something that shouldn’t exist. The liquid life in my veins had been stolen twice from me. A part of me could not help but wish for death.

  But I knew even before I opened my eyes that Gabriel had once again shown me mercy. Whatever coldness had touched me as he’d drunk from me lingered in the darkness. The touching of minds, the blood connection, worked both ways.

  I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe any of it, but I knew it had been his mind colliding against my own. Never before had I imagined someone could be so utterly empty, devoid of any spark of happiness or even simple contentment.