Chapter Three
With the sun high, it did nothing to calm the racing heart of Voshon Rogers. He scanned the quiet town road that held homes of the good people of Buxby, Iowa. A light snow had fallen earlier that day and gave their town a picturesque feel to it. He shivered and picked up his pace.
“There’s no need to be nervous,” he muttered to himself. He marched down the road with his head held high toward the small house he shared with his parents. There had been no sightings of lycans for a few weeks now, but that didn’t mean those animals couldn’t be lurking somewhere around their town that was located far away from a main city.
Voshon’s hand unconsciously reached up to brush the metal weapon that was strapped to his waist. He was comforted by the feel of the cold, hard steel. It was filled with argentite rounds that would introduce liquid silver into a lycan’s bloodstream. It may not take the beast down immediately, but it was effective enough to slow them down until the silver could work its magic.
He drew closer to his home, and his heart immediately calmed down. There were more than lycans on his mind at the moment. He jogged up the stairs of the porch and pulled his keys out of his jeans. He inserted a key into the lock and paused. He wanted to present a brave face to his parents. He was sure his mother would be worried sick. A small smile came to his lips. It didn’t matter that he was thirty-eight years old or that he was part of their town’s militia.
A mother would always worry about her child.
Voshon opened the door and stepped inside. He was immediately assaulted by the scent of fresh bread and whatever his mother had cooking on the stove. His mouth watered as he shut the door behind him.
“Voshon, is that you?” Gardenia Rogers called out.
He reached up and unzipped his coat and hung it on the hook next to his parents’.
“Yeah, it’s me, Ma.” He toed off his boots then moved from the doorway.
This was the home they had lived in since he was a child. When the war had erupted, many families had chosen to go off the grid in order to escape the devastation that had occurred. At the time, Voshon hadn’t understood what was going on. In school, he remembered hearing of wars of the past, but none had ever taken place on American soil while he’d been alive.
Fortunately for Voshon, both of his parents were able to avoid being drafted into the war. His father had suffered an injury when he was a child that that left him with a noticeable limp. His mother, Gardenia, suffered from a seizure disorder and was deemed unfit to serve. Voshon was thankful that he was able to be raised by his parents in a loving home. There were many of his friends from the big city they had left whose parents had been drafted to service in the military against their will.
The Rogers family had settled in the new town of Buxby which was comprised of other humans trying to make a life away from destruction and devastation. They governed themselves and had their own militia for protection. Voshon was healthy and strong and proud to be able to protect his townspeople.
He entered the kitchen and found his father sitting at the small table in the kitchen sipping on a cup of coffee and reading a book. His mother was standing at the stove stirring a large pot of what he assumed to be stew from the aromas filling the air.
“How did it go?” Gardenia placed the spoon on the counter and motioned for him to take a seat at the table.
“Are you okay?” His father, Lucas, never missed anything when it came to Gardenia or Voshon. The patriarch of their family was very protective of his loved ones.
“Yeah, I’m good, Pops,” Voshon muttered. He took the seat next to his father.
His mother brought over a cup of strong coffee. In that matter of seconds, she had poured it and doctored it up as he liked it.
He offered her a smile. “Thanks, Momma.”
“Is it still snowing?” She brushed a motherly hand over his short locs, knocking some moisture off them.
“It stopped a while ago. Not that much fell,” he murmured. He picked up the mug and took a sip of the brew. It sent a warming sensation through him that warded off the chill from the cold.
“You are just in time. Lunch will be ready in a moment, but I did bake your favorite cookies.” She spun away and headed over to the counter.
Voshon felt his father’s gaze on him. Staring at his father was like looking at an older image of himself. He’d been told so many times his entire life that he was his father’s twin. With their dark-brown skin and tall, muscular build, Voshon could agree that they could pass for twins. Voshon kept his hair in locs with the sides shaved into a neat fade, but his father kept his cut low to his scalp.
“And, what happened?” his father asked.
Voshon picked up the mug and took another sip. His mother returned with a plate of cookies and set them down in the middle of the table. She took her place in the empty chair. Her wide brown eyes were filled with worry.
“There isn’t much to tell,” Voshon began. He sighed and ran a hand along his face. He sat back and updated his parents on where he had just come from. “They had a large fancy bus parked in the middle of town. About ten of us were taken inside.”
The draft.
Humans were subjected to a blood donation. Because vampires were in search of their mates, they had discovered that through a blood test, they could detect a human mate for a vampire. Once the war ended and vampires had taken over, the king of vampires had made an announcement. All humans were to submit to this calling when they were selected. Not all humans were matched with a vampire.
Those were the lucky ones.
Voshon didn’t know how he felt about this. What if he were selected and his vampire was good? He’d heard of stories of humans being matched with vampires and being taken care of. The three daughters of the vampire king were all matched with humans. He’d seen the stories that the media had put out about them.
Each of the women appeared to not forget about their fellow humans. They each fought for the rights of their people. Voshon could respect that. What if he were matched with a vampire who was like the princesses? Someone who could help him with his people. Their town was under threat. Lycans were constantly seen hunting. He and the other men and women who protected their town fought them off as much as they could, but it was never enough.
Someone always went missing.
“They registered us, then asked general questions about me, then they took a blood sample. It didn’t take more than thirty minutes.” He cleared his throat and reached for a cookie. Some of the questions, he wasn’t sure why they’d asked. Why did they need to know his clothing and shoe size? Favorite foods? Things he liked to do in his leisure time? Then they had taken a picture of him, even though they had a copy of his identification card and birth certificate.
“When will you find out?” Gardenia reached over and rested a hand on his.
He didn’t want to worry her, but it would be pointless to tell her not to. She was a professional when it came to it. He took a bite out of the peanut butter cookie and sighed. No matter how many times she had made these for him, he would never get enough of them. He eyed the plate and chewed.
She barked a laugh. “I can always make more if you eat the entire plate.”
“ All they said is soon.” He popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth and reached for another one.
“Everything will work out. It always has,” Lucas announced. His father sipped from his coffee mug then set it down on the table. “Our family is strong. Whatever the outcome of the test is, we will face it together.”
Voshon nodded. He didn’t expect anything else from his father. He was always a straightforward man.
“But I can’t leave you two,” Voshon said. He shook his head and leaned forward to take both of their hands. They meant the world to him. How could he leave them here alone? Who would protect them? He squeezed both of their hands.
“If you are matched, my son, you won’t have a choice,” his mother said softly. She tightened her grip on his hand. “Your father and I will be fine. We have survived this long together.”
“But the lycans—”
“My brother will continue to do all that he can to keep this town safe, my son. You cannot do it all on your own,” Lucas said.
His brother, Randal Rogers, had been elected as the mayor of the town years ago. Under his direction, their town had progressed. They were able to get weapons, train and protect themselves as best as they could. Randal had even negotiated deals with other small towns like theirs to barter to provide necessary items. But they were always under the threat of the lycans. “We have food, a roof over our head, and plenty of business coming in. We will be fine, son. We can’t afford for you to risk the wrath of vampires if you chose to disobey the laws.”
Voshon felt a deep stirring in his chest. Could he truly leave his parents? He didn’t want to think of what would happen if he tried to run, but running wouldn’t solve anything. He would still be leaving his parents. At least if he went to a vampire, maybe they could do something to help his town.
Voshon glanced at the horizon and took in the beautiful hues of the sky. The sun would be rising soon. It had been a long night of patrolling the town. He was posted on the rooftop of town hall which gave him a vantage point of downtown Buxby. The center of town wasn’t much, but the townspeople had their pride when it came to their community. This was where all of the local businesses were located. Voshon used the binoculars to scan the main road which had been quiet.
It had been a week since he’d given his blood to the government lab. He had finally relaxed. Maybe his vampire mate hadn’t registered for the draft. If so, then that would mean Voshon would be in the clear until said vampire did so. Or maybe he wasn’t a mate for any of the vampires. Not all humans matched with vampires. Hopefully, he would be one of the ones who did not.
“Anything?” a feminine voice crackled through his radio. Angelina Pearl, his friend since childhood, served with him on Buxby’s militia. She was the first kid he had met when they had relocated.
He reached for the radio and hit the button.
“Nah, it’s quiet,” he murmured. Not that he wanted any action. He had small hopes that the lycans would leave his people alone, but word was spreading that the missing humans were being turned by the lycans.
At least those who survived the bite of the lycan.
“Good. It’s almost time to switch,” Angelina replied.
Voshon scanned the area again and paused at the sight of headlights that appeared. His breath caught in his throat. The vehicle was coming into town from the main road. Who the hell would be coming into Buxby at this time of night?
“Wait. There’s an inbound vehicle approaching,” he announced softly. He placed the binoculars down and slipped his hand over to his weapon. He flipped open the button on the strap where he’d be able to quickly draw his gun if he needed to.
“I see it. It’s a huge SUV,” she said.
Muffled voices could be heard behind her. Voshon strained to hear what they were saying, but the static from the radio distorted the voices even more. The vehicle parked in the middle of the intersection of the two main roads of the town.
“We need you down here. Now.”
Voshon spun on his heel and clamped his radio back to his waist. He jogged over to the ledge of the building where there was a fire escape ladder. He made his way down to the ground and stalked around the building. By the time he reached the corner, his weapon was already in his hand. He paused and glanced over to where the SUV had parked. A few other patrolmen were already walking toward it with their guns aimed at the newcomers.
Voshon raised his weapon and aimed steadily as he, too, made his way toward the vehicle. Voshon caught sight of Angelina leading the others. She was a fierce fighter and would protect their town with her life. Her father was one of the few humans who had gone off to war and was able to return to his family.
“We come in peace,” a voice shouted from the SUV.
The two front doors opened, and heavily armed royal guards stepped from it. Seeing them there did not relax any of the patrolmen or women. They would always be leery of the vampires. The town’s guard spread out around the vehicle. They were not taking any chances. They had practiced countless times and were very efficient at their jobs.
“What do you want?” Angelina shouted. She paused near the vehicle.
Voshon walked over to her side. Not that she couldn’t protect herself. He eyed the large vampire warriors. They weren’t too much taller than him. Voshon could hold his own in any fight, but he didn’t have the superhuman strength that vampires possessed. He tensed as one held up a piece of paper in his hand.
“We are here by the decree of King Niall Riskel and the draft. There has been a match made, and we are here to collect the human,” the vampire announced. His deep voice echoed through the night.
A shiver raced down Voshon’s spine. Out of the few of their townspeople who had been selected to give their blood sample, who had been chosen? It wasn’t like they were able to watch the draft on the news. None of the townspeople owned a television.
The air thickened at the announcement.
“Who are you here for?” Voshon tightened his grip on his weapon.
The vampires didn’t appear to be threatened by the sight of it. Silver wouldn’t kill them, but he was sure it would hurt like a bitch.
“Voshon Rogers.”
Voshon forgot to breathe. He had been drafted. Angelina reached over and placed her hand on top of his and pushed his hands down.
“Lower your weapon, my friend,” she murmured.
He swallowed hard and complied. She eyed him, and he jerked his head in a nod in understanding. They wouldn’t want the vampires to assume he was a threat.
“I am Voshon Rogers,” he announced. He cleared his throat and slipped his gun back in its sheath. His father’s voice echoed in his head.
We can’t afford for you to risk the wrath of vampires if you chose to disobey the laws.
“Mr. Rogers, we will allow you to go to your home to collect your belongings you would like to bring with you and say goodbye to family,” the second vampire said.
Voshon nodded to the vampire. At least they would allow him to see his parents one last time. He turned to Angelina who immediately wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back, unsure if this would be the last time he would see his best friend.
“Everything is going to be all right.” Her voice was muffled against his coat.
He reached down and tipped her chin up so he could see her. How he had wished before that there had been something between them, but he had only ever had brotherly feelings toward her. He kissed her forehead and gave her one last hug.
“I know. Hold the fort down. I’ll be back.”