There was a shattering of glass, as another local snuck up on Caleb from behind and, before anyone could react, smashed him hard with a bottle on the back of his head.
Caitlin watched, horrified, as Caleb sank to the ground.
“Oh my god, Caleb!” she yelled.
Sam jumped into action. He tackled the local, driving him down to the ground.
But a moment later, three more locals jumped on top of Sam, kicking him in his exposed rib cage and back, and beating him down.
Caitlin ran to the bar, grabbed an empty bottle and ran over and smashed the man on the back of the head who was kicking Sam.
But suddenly, she found herself back-handed hard across the face. She was then shoved against a wall, as another man grabbed her from behind, restraining her arms. Another man grabbed Polly.
Caitlin stood there, pinned, helpless as she watched Caleb lying there unconscious, and Sam getting beaten to a pulp on the ground.
God only knew where Scarlet was. This was the most horrifying moment of Caitlin’s life. She would do anything, anything, just to break free, to be able to save her husband, her brother, her best friend—and most of all, her daughter—from these disgusting locals.
She wondered if the locals would kill them all. It certainly seemed like it was going that way. She felt more helpless than she ever had.
That was when the door to the bar burst open.
The locals turned, and Caitlin saw, standing there, a boy who looked maybe 18. He was tall, with broad shoulders, striking gray eyes, and a proud, noble chin. He wore a tight leather jacket, and she had the strangest feeling that she’d met him before.
Caitlin wasn’t exactly sure what happened next. She blinked, and a moment later, the boy was across the room. She didn’t understand how he covered so much ground so quickly. But he did. And in another blink of an eye, he had already managed to knock out all five people who were kicking Sam. He punched and kicked in such a whirlwind, it was as if a tornado entered the room.
Caitlin watched, wide-eyed, in awe. Inspired by him, she raised her elbow and brought it back, elbowing the man holding her hard in the solo plexus. He keeled over, and she reached around, grabbed a bottle and smashed it hard across his face. He collapsed to his knees and she kicked him hard in the gut several times.
The boy circled the room, knocking out everyone except for Caleb and Sam and Caitlin and Polly. Within a moment, the floor was littered with bodies. She wondered who this boy was? How he had this strength? And why he was helping them?
The boy rushed over and helped Caleb and Sam to their feet. The two of them looked at him, dazed, not understanding what had happened.
“Thank you,” Caitlin said, stepping forward. “You saved our lives. Who are you?”
“Sage. Where is she?”
Caitlin wondered how he knew about Scarlet. Had he come here looking for her?
The boy didn’t wait for a response. He searched the room, then his eyes locked on the door behind the bar.
He rushed it, and Caitlin and the others rushed it, too, right behind him.
Without pausing, Sage kicked the door down, and it went flying off its hinges.
Caitlin stopped in her tracks, horrified: she could not believe what she saw.
*
Although Scarlet struggled, she could not overpower the man. He had carried her into this back room, turned on the cheap fluorescent light, and had thrown her across the room; she’d landed hard on the firm, cheap couch, banging her head on the wood frame. She lay there, shaking, trying to get her bearings. As she sat up, he backhanded her hard across the face, knocking her down.
The man walked across the room, turning on another lamp on the far side.
“I want to be able to see you when I do this,” he snarled. “Looks like it’s my lucky night.”
Scarlet lay there, burning with the injustice of the world. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair.
She started to experience a new sensation. An anger rose up through her, a deep, primal anger at the world. It overwhelmed her, took over her, rose up through her veins. Up until now, she had tried so hard to hold back her urge not to hurt anyone. Not to feed on anyone. It was so against her nature.
But as this disgusting man, this awful predator, walked towards her, looming so large, Scarlet could not hold back any longer. The primal rage rose up through her—and this time, she let it rise. A tremendous heat prickled in her veins, raised her hairs, made them stand on end, from her toes up to her head.
She breathed harder, and heavier, and slowly, she felt her fangs protrude. She felt transformed. No longer was she afraid of her anger. Of her desire. Now she was ready to embrace it. Now, finally, she was ready to embrace who she was. Ready to feed. Ready to destroy.
As the man came closer, now just a few feet away, Scarlet suddenly jumped to her feet. She stood there opposite him, and as she did, she let out a unearthly, horrific snarl. It was the anguished cry of a wild beast, caged for centuries, finally let loose. Her chains had finally been unbound.
Despite the man’s huge height and strength and breadth, despite his scars, despite his being the meanest man she’d ever met, he stopped cold in his tracks at the sight of her. And in his eyes, she could see, for the first time, real terror. He was panic stricken. In a state of total shock.
But it was too late for him now. Any ounce of compassion within her had left long ago. This was the new Scarlet. Now, it was her against the world.
Scarlet lunged for the man, leaned her head back, and plunged her fangs deep into his throat.
They sank deeper and deeper, hitting his vein.
He shrieked, as he collapsed to his knees.
She drank.
She drank and drank and drank, as the man collapsed to the ground beneath her. She pinned him down, like an animal, on top of him, and as she did, she sucked out every last ounce of his blood.
She felt her body infusing with a new kind of energy, a boundless, limitless power. For the first time, her craving felt relieved. She felt restored, rejuvenated, satisfied in a way that she hadn’t been able to be satisfied since this all began. Finally, she felt whole.
At that moment, the door burst open.
She turned, startled, and lifted her bloody fangs.
Through her bloody, red haze, dimly, she saw figures she recognized. She saw five people, standing there, looking down at her—and somewhere, deep in her consciousness, she remembered them. Her parents. Her aunt and uncle. Sage.
But that was all hazy, a distant memory now. Now, they were just figures in a haze. Figures she barely knew.