Marina's Awakening (Seduced By Shadows Book 2)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Back when I was a vampire, I wasn”t afraid of anything. Fear was foreign to me—a sensation that simply didn”t exist in my world. I had power coursing through my veins, and the world seemed to bend to my will. But even as a vampire, I”d wager I would still be terrified of the conversation I”m about to have.

I pace back and forth, lost in thought while trying not to overthink every little detail. If I don”t figure out how to tell him soon, he”ll find out from someone else, and then everything will be ruined. I know that. But despite all that, I can”t bring myself to just blurt it out like ”Hey, I”m pregnant.” It needs to be done with a bit more finesse than that, something... well, less blunt.

I”ve been wearing out the wooded path in the park near Emily”s house for an hour now, racking my brain for answers and taking in deep breaths of fresh air to try to calm my nerves. It”s a peaceful afternoon—perfectly clear sky, the sun warming the earth without being too hot or cold. Even the scent of lilacs drifting on the breeze seem to seep into my skin. The sounds of birds singing reach my ears, along with the pleasant rustle of leaves as a gentle breeze sends them dancing against one another. Any other day, I would be soaking up this gorgeous afternoon, but right now, it feels like I might break out into a panic attack at any second.

I rehearse the conversation with Gabriel over and over again, each iteration ending in a different outcome. What if he doesn”t want this? What if he”s not ready to be a father? What if we can”t make this work long-term, despite our feelings for one another? There”s a myriad of possibilities, and in my mind, each scenario is far more dire than the last. But what if I just let my imagination get carried away? Maybe I should just stop thinking about it altogether and let fate decide.

As I continue to pace, I catch sight of a couple sitting on a nearby bench. They look so happy, so carefree, and for a moment, I envy them their simplicity. The girl wears a big floppy sun hat, and her eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles. Her hair is styled into loose curls that frame her face nicely, accentuating her high cheekbones and smooth skin. She”s beautiful, and perfectly, one-hundred percent human. She leans back on the bench, tossing her head back and laughing at something he said, her dark hair dancing around her shoulders. As they lean in close together, I watch as the guy puts an arm around his companion, drawing her close against him. He places a kiss on her temple, then nuzzles into her neck, eliciting a contented sigh from his date.

My heart aches for a second, and I find myself wanting to trade places with that girl—for things to be normal, so that I could experience this type of connection with Gabriel. We have chemistry, sure, but it isn”t the same kind of relationship that these humans are supposed to have. How could it ever compare? I mean, look at them: they can do all those mundane couple things—going out on dates, kissing goodnight—and there”s absolutely no life or death risk involved. There”s no need to worry about anything except how good the food was at dinner or if he called while they were apart. But that”s not our world.

In our world, we live under constant threat of being ripped away from everything we care about and forced to fight to stay alive. Can our relationship withstand such adversity?

Taking a deep breath, I try to push aside my doubts and fears, focusing instead on the love I feel for Gabriel and the life growing inside me. He deserves to know, I remind myself. He deserves to be a part of this decision, no matter how daunting it may seem.

I start back toward Emily”s house, deciding now is as good a time as any. The longer I wait, the harder it will become. Plus, if there”s one thing I”ve learned through all of this, it”s that you don”t have much time in this life to sit around wondering what if. The best decisions are made when your mind and heart are in sync.

As I make my way back toward Emily”s house, my thoughts still swirling with the weight of the conversation ahead, a rustling sound breaks the serene environment around me. My eyes dart toward the source, and I spot a woman stumbling out from the bushes that line the path. Her clothes are torn, and there”s something red splattered across her chest.

”Please, help me,” she manages between gasps. ”I”ve been attacked!”

My instincts kick in immediately, overriding my earlier preoccupation. ”Oh my God, are you okay?” I rush to her side, trying to assess her injuries. ”Who did this to you?

My eyes dart around, searching for something that could explain what happened. There aren”t many people in the park now—most are either enjoying the cool weather or inside enjoying a cup of coffee—but there”s no one around who seems likely to have committed an attack.

She looks around nervously. ”I don”t know, they came out of nowhere.”

Something about her demeanor doesn”t sit right with me. The way she avoids eye contact, the forced tremble in her voice—it all feels rehearsed. She clutches at her arm, but when I look closer, I realize the red substance isn”t blood. It”s more like some kind of red paint or makeup, shiny and sticky. She tries to pull away from my grasp, but I hold on firmly.

”Let me go,” she says, struggling to free herself. ”I told you, I was attacked by someone in these bushes. I need help!”

I”ve seen enough horror movies to know better than to fall for such obvious ploys. She”s either faking it or just plain insane.

I tighten my grip on her arm as suspicion knots in my stomach. ”Hold on a second. If you were really attacked, we need to call the police. Can you describe your attackers?”

Before she can answer, something bursts through the bushes behind me. Before I can react, two men charge toward us with alarming speed. One lunges at me while the other reaches for the woman, who takes advantage of my shock and breaks free from my grasp and backs away, her face contorting into a triumphant smirk.

I barely dodge the attacker”s lunge, stumbling back. But he”s fast, almost too fast, and before I have time to recover, he grabs hold of me. He flips me onto my stomach with an impressive display of strength, then pins me to the ground. I struggle to get free but he holds me firm, keeping me from moving an inch. The other man stands over me, grinning widely as he holds a blade against my neck.

Realization crashes over me like a tidal wave. This was a setup. The woman”s fake distress call, the staged ”attack,” it was all part of a trap, and I walked right into it. Now, I lie pinned down beneath two large men who could crush me without even trying since I don”t have my vampire strength. Any remaining people in the park have fled, and all I can do is hope that at least one of them calls the cops, or I”m screwed.

”Who are you people?” I demand, struggling against the man.

The other man kneels beside me now, still holding the knife to my throat. ”Aren”t we polite? Marlowe sends his regards,” he replies.

The Extractors. Of course this is their handiwork. What was I thinking coming out here on my own? I should”ve realized Charles would have people watching me. They must”ve followed me from Emily”s house.

”We should kill her right now,” says the first man, his eyes narrowing in a look of malice.

I let out a low growl of frustration. ”Oh, piss off, jackass!”

The second guy smirks. ”No need for name-calling, sweetheart. Marlowe wants you alive, anyway.”

The blade against my throat presses down a little harder, sending a jolt of panic through me. I close my eyes, focusing all my attention on keeping calm. My heart beats erratically as the pressure begins to sting. A small bead of blood trickles down from where the tip touches my flesh, and the man smiles again.

”That”s enough,” he says with a laugh. ”Marlowe isn”t going to thank you for damaging his prize.”

I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, a flicker of my old vampire strength still lingering. With a swift motion, I manage to twist my body, throwing the man off-balance for just a moment. It”s enough of a distraction to make the blade waver from my throat. Seizing the opportunity, I thrust my elbow back into the first man”s gut, hearing a satisfying grunt as he stumbles back. I roll to the side and spring up to my feet just in time to see the other man jump at me again, slashing at me with his knife. The blow narrowly misses as I duck beneath it, landing a punch to his jaw hard enough to send him toppling backwards. He lands on his ass, eyes wide in surprise as I grab hold of his arm and pin him to the ground.

”Get off me,” he growls, thrashing about underneath me.

I lean over him, giving him a stern glare. ”If your bosses think I”m some pushover that”ll go down easily, they”ve got another thing coming.”

Before he can say anything more, his partner jumps to his feet and charges toward me. I tense up, ready for the attack, then realize my mistake as the man slams into me. We go down hard onto the pavement, and the wind is knocked out of me, sending a wave of pain rippling through my body. The weight of his body presses against mine, preventing me from moving. I try to call for help but it comes out in a choked whisper, leaving my assailant grinning like an idiot. He brings his fist back, striking me with such force that stars dance before my eyes and I nearly pass out. My head pounds fiercely, and as my vision returns, I see him raising his hand again.

They”re stronger, more coordinated, and I”m unarmed, unprepared for this ambush. With my vampire strength gone, I”m just not a match for them.

I close my eyes, bracing myself for another hit, hoping he might miss this time. But no luck. His fist slams into the side of my face with blinding speed, followed quickly by another. I let out a gasp of pain, struggling to breathe against the pressure on my chest. The man lets out a roar as he rains blows upon me, punching so fast that I can hardly see them coming. Each blow feels like an iron bar being smashed down onto my skull. There”s no escape—no way to fight back or break free.

The last thing I hear before succumbing to unconsciousness is their mocking laughter, echoing in the distance like a cruel lullaby.