Evolving Hope: Suspenseful Vampire Romance (Love ReVamped Book 1)

1. CHAPTER 1

I’m breaking my own rules by even being here. My back goes rigid as I scan the street over her shoulder but there’s no sign of him. She tightens her arms around my neck, refusing to separate from me.

“Elena! I can’t breathe,” I half-joke, while attempting to gain some space in her death grip. My face is smooshed against her enormous chest and she’s choking me with her flowery perfume.

“I wasn’t sure when I’d see you again. I can’t believe you could make the trip back for this.” Her vise around my neck loosens a fraction, but she doesn’t release me from the hug.

I manage to pry her arms free and step back to take a full breath. “I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it back to Arizona in time. But I’m so psyched you passed your bar exam and had to make it here to celebrate with you.” I beam up at her and give her shoulders a squeeze. She’s worked so hard for this. “I’m just so proud of you.”

She grins and does a solo dance. “Thanks, Issy.”

We link arms and stroll from the parking lot. The rickety wheels on my barely functioning suitcase keep snagging on the sidewalk. My jaw clenches and I jostle its stuck wheel free every few feet as we make our way toward the bus station. We shuffle around bustling people and head for the ticket booth. It’s not overly crowded, but a couple of buses are loading, and humans scramble around in all directions. Tingles race up my neck, and my gaze darts around, trying to take in everything and everyone. I’m probably fine. I haven’t been here long. Nothing has seemed out of the ordinary since I’ve gotten here. Still, I need to snag a one-way ticket ASAP.

I wish I could stay. Elena’s the closest thing to a best friend I’ve ever had, ever allowed myself to have. I keep people at a distance, move on before things can get too real. Or more accurately, before they learn too much about me…

Since I ran away at sixteen, I’ve only spent four months max in one city. But I stayed close to nine months here in Phoenix because of Elena. And I came back here, because of her. And here I’m lying to her left and right. My chin dips and my throat burns. I side-eye her sheepishly as we move up in the line, waiting for the ticketing machine.

It helps that she isn’t human, so I don’t have to hide everything, but did I let my guard down too much? It was too risky to stay in one place that long. No wonder he found me.

And now, only a month later, I’m back. I never return to places he’s already found me in. But I did, for her… Why am I breaking my rules now?

Elena shifts from foot to foot. “I know better than to ask a lot of questions… but something’s been nagging at me since you left.”

My chin lifts and eyes narrow. This isn’t good. “Okay…” My stomach’s in knots. I stayed here longer because I can trust her. I can trust her, right?

“Did you leave because of the guy going around asking about you?”

My body stiffens, warmth shooting up to my head. I feel faint. I scan the surrounding street, taking in all the people, cars, examining everything. My chest tightens, and I can’t even look back at her until I know I’m safe. Finally, I let out the huge breath I was holding and turn back to Elena.

“There was a guy asking about me?” My voice comes out strained through my dry mouth. “What did he want?”

Her features soften, and she leans closer to rest a supportive hand on my arm. “Yeah. The day you left. I didn’t mention it then because you were already gone, and I had no way of getting hold of you.” Her brows furrow. “So, was he why you left?”

I packed and left the city within hours of seeing Patrick, only putting a note under Elena’s windshield wiper saying, Sorry. I had to leave unexpectedly. I’ll be in touch. Love you, Issy.

I wrap my arms tightly around my torso. “Yeah. He’s why I always leave.” I swallow to push down all the emotions springing forward. I never talk about it. With anyone. That’s what’s kept them—and me—safe all this time. But it’s not working. No matter where I move or what I change my name to, he still finds me. Still questions my friends.

But she’s an actual friend. The only one I’ve ever had. And what did I do? I come back not a month later, dragging my shitty baggage along with me. Putting myself and her at risk. She’s the only person I’ve ever even remotely cared about. What the fuck was I thinking? My shoulders round toward my ears. I won’t keep lying to her. For once, I’ll be as honest as I can be. She deserves it. And I’m just tired of running and constantly lying. Tired of my life in general. I need something to be real, even if it’s just one long distanced friendship.

“Bad breakup? Hit it and quit it style?” She winks, trying to make light of the situation. She’s always cracking jokes, but this one doesn’t land right. There’s something off about her demeanor, almost like bitterness.

The line moves forward again, and I’m next. Judging by the terminal’s clock, the bus will depart soon, but I still have a few minutes. I sigh. “More of a family matter.”

“Family?” She scoffs. “He looked nothing like you.”

I’m up to the ticketing machine but pause, frowning. “What do you mean?” I’m not an exact replica of Patrick, but we share enough similarities that she shouldn’t sneer.

“I mean, I don’t think there’s any way you two are related.” She chuckles at the thought, but it tapers off in an awkward silence.

“What did he want?” My voice is barely a whisper. Patrick’s bad enough, but did he hire someone else to follow me again?

“He asked what your name was, where you went off to, and how I knew you…”

My hand trembles as I select my route and bus transfers. “What did you tell him?”

“Well, that was the weirder part.” She steps closer to me, her voice dropping even lower. “I think he was trying to glamour me, but it obviously doesn’t work on our kind. He was intimidating, though, so I pretended it worked. I told him your name was Bella, that I knew you from school, and that you’d gone off to California for an internship. Part of which was a stretch of the truth in case he followed up on it. I just hope you aren’t actually in California because I winged that part.” She bites her cheek and fiddles with her bag, avoiding my eyes.

I breathe a sigh of relief. Of course she’d cover for me. That further settles it. If I’m ever going to take a chance on fully trusting anyone, it’s going to be her. I elbow her and nod towards the screen before I click submit, allowing her to see the ticket to Chicago. “Nope, not California this time.” I click print and collect the tickets, then walk with her back towards the street where the buses are lining up. “He had to have known we’re Vanamisch. Why would he try to mess with your memories?”

“I have no idea. I’ve never heard of that working on our kind before, but I thought it better to play dumb. He was a scary man.”

My skin itches and my nerves are on edge. If it’s more than Patrick, I don’t even know who I’m looking for. It could be anyone, or multiple people. My chest hurts from the constricting pressure. I need to leave.

But I need to know who’s looking for me, too. My lungs burn like they aren’t getting enough air, and I exhale. “What did he look like?”

“Tall, dark, and handsome.” She giggles. She’s always going after the emotionally unattainable bad boys. “But seriously, those all apply.”

My eyes go wide. “Wait. You thought he was tall?”

“Exactly.” She nods enthusiastically. “I’m 6’1”, and he was easily eight inches taller than me. Which never happens.”

I jab my elbow playfully into her side. “No wonder you thought he was handsome.” She’s always complaining about trying to find a man taller than her and not having enough options.

“You’re not wrong. He also had a dark complexion, which you know I’m a sucker for.” She bats her eyelashes. “He had buzzed black hair and a massive beard to the middle of his chest.”

“He doesn’t sound familiar at all. And that’s not the kind of person you’d easily forget. He must’ve been hired to hunt me down.” I glance at the end of the line of buses as my numbered bus comes to a screeching stop.

Her chin dips and her shoulders scrunch up. “And you can’t tell me who would hire someone like him or why you’re on the run.” Her head cocks to the side, eyes narrowing. “Can you?”

I glance around at the people loading and unloading different buses and silently shake my head no. I will not keep lying to her, but I can’t delve into all my shit out in the open like this.

“Is Issy even your real name?”

My stomach spasms painfully. Again, I silently shake no. I’m such a piece of shit.

“Okay.” She nods, her shoulders rounding and her mouth twisting. My gut twists further. I’m the worst fucking person, but I will work at being a better friend to her. Still probably not what she deserves, but the best that I can offer.

I take one of her hands between both of mine. “I’m still the same person. I just can’t get into it all right now. I’m trying to protect us both.”

“I understand. I never wanted to pressure you. I guess I’m just wondering what all is real and what isn’t.” There’s a sheen in her eyes and my heart breaks.

“Our friendship and everything I’ve told you, except for my name and family stuff, is all 100% real.” Pleading with my eyes for her to believe me.

She nods, biting her bottom lip. “I get it. Or I can try to. You’re just the only best friend I’ve ever had, and I want that to be real.” The glossiness in her eyes increasing, she looks away.

I wrap my arms around her back and pull her into a tight hug. She only hesitates a moment before returning the embrace.

Too soon, we release each other, both dabbing at our wet eyes. “You’re the only best friend I’ve ever had, too. I shouldn’t be back here at all… but I wanted to celebrate with you.”

Her voice lowers, thick with emotion. “Are you safe?”

The banging of people loading luggage onto the bus has me inching in that direction. “Probably not.” I laugh humorlessly. “That’s why I move around so much.”

“When can I see you again?”

“I can’t risk coming here again so soon. Especially if he hired people to ask around about me. But you could come visit me sometime?” I flash the destination on my ticket her way again.

“I can for sure do that. How will I find you there?”

“Here.” I rip my ticket receipt in half and grab a pen from my bag to jot down a phone number. “It’s a burner phone. I trashed the last one when I moved. Text it once I’m on the bus and I’ll respond with my alias.”

“Okay.” She slides the paper into the pocket of her jeans. I lift my luggage case and head towards the bus loading area. Tears trickle down her face. “I’m really going to miss you. You were barely here. I don’t want you to leave.”

“I miss you already. I wish I could’ve stayed longer. We didn’t get to talk or catch up much. Hell, I don’t even know if there’s a new guy in your life.”

“Ha. I wish.” She flips her long blonde hair over a shoulder. “There’s nothing to write home about.”

“I’m sure someone will snag your fancy sooner or later.”

“Yeah.” She sounds like she doesn’t believe it. The bus sounds its warning horn before I can question her further about it.

“I’ve got to go.” I lean in for a quick last hug. “I’m so proud of what you accomplished, and I’ll miss you like crazy.”

“Thanks, Issy.” She grimaces- but quickly covers it with a soft smile.

“Bye, Elena. Text me!”

“I will, right as the bus pulls away, and you’d better be prepared. I’m coming to stay with you for at least a month.” She sticks her tongue out at me.

I climb the steps and return the tongue gesture. “Promise?” A wide smile spreads across my face.

“Absolutely.” She waves bye.

The air conditioning gushes, whipping my hair about, and I waddle with my luggage down the tiny bus aisle. Stopping near the middle, I shove my case into a huge metal rack and look over all the people already seated on the bus. Patrick isn’t one of them, nor is there a guy matching the description Elena gave.

My shoulders relax slightly, and I sit in the seats directly behind the luggage rack, sliding into the window seat so I can scan the surrounding area again, just to be certain. Chucking off my bookbag into the seat next to mine.

There’s nothing abnormal. Just breathe.

Not a moment after the bus pulls away from the curb, my phone buzzes in my bookbag. I retrieve it out of the front pocket and see a text from an unknown number.

Elena: Sup? Guessing the new title, any of the following?

Witchy Bitch? Cuntwaffle? Kegel Queen? Or is it, Debra? (But sounds like Zebb-ra)

I chuckle at our inside jokes.

Teagan: Ahh man, I should’ve consulted you for these awesome suggestions before choosing. For the record, my real name is Teagan. But when you visit, I’ll be going by Isabella.

Elena: Thank you for trusting me, T. Can’t wait to see you again. Keep in touch, ok?

Teagan: I’ll text as often as I can.

Elena: Me too. Stay safe.

I settle back into the seat, a small smile spreading across my face. I can’t recall the last time I told someone my real name. It feels so fucking good. I’ve moved so frequently and trusted no one enough. But I’m allowing myself to try with her. Butterflies take flight in my stomach, a mix of nerves and exhilaration colliding.

The rest of the ride is uneventful. I still tensed and got paranoid at every stop. But after a few hours, I was able to relax and sleep some or pass the time by reading. Almost two full days on different Greyhounds, and I’m going a bit stir-crazy, though. My whole body’s stiff and sore, and I want nothing more than to pass out on my own mattress.

It’s been raining on and off for the past three hours, and my head keeps dropping forward, startling me awake. I blink harder and shake my head, fighting the allure of the glaring wet pavement. The growing darkness wanting to coax me back under.

The highway sign for Chicago perks me up. Finally.

Sitting up straighter, I stretch, cracking my back and neck. My excitement grows, waking me up further, as we approach the bridge to exit.

I stand and lean partly into the aisle, unhooking the strap that’s securing the luggage and pulling my case free. A thunderous screech rattles the bus and I pause with the strap’s carabiner still in hand. People startle, looking around, and horns blare from nearby vehicles. Tires squeal, metal crunches, the bus brakes hard. Everyone lurches forward as the Greyhound comes to a harsh stop, slamming me up against the bar caging all the bags.

“Fuuuck,” I cry and hunch over, gulping in air as pain radiates through my side.

Multiple suitcases tumble out onto the floor and down the aisle.

“Dammit.” With a hand pressed firmly to my side, I reach for the rolling cases, trying to contain the mess I created. Grunting, I awkwardly lean to retrieve a heavier bag, but then people in the back start screaming and crying. Forgetting the bag, I straighten and turn towards them right as something crashes into us.

The force from the hit pushes me forward, and I frantically grab the closest seatback to keep myself upright. I look back just in time to see the semi-truck that hit us smash through the barricaded wall of the bridge, the momentum causing a huge section of the bridge to break and crumble out of sight.

My jaw drops open. The bridge shudders and groans, the crater growing and swallowing the semi-truck whole. I drop into an empty seat and buckle my seat belt, so at least I’m not a rag doll being thrown about. The bridge rumbles as more of it collapses, consuming vehicles left and right.

There’s nowhere for our bus to go with the congestion of cars stopped on the bridge and it starts to slide backwards into the growing hole.

I take a deep breath. Many of these humans won’t survive this. I’m not too worried about my safety. I’ll live through this, but it’s going to hurt like a bitch. It feels like slow motion, waiting for the inevitable. The worst fucking roller-coaster ride of my life. My breath catches and holds, anticipating the landing.

We smash down on the tail end of the bus. I’m thrown to the side, banging my head against a window, the pain barely registering before a bar breaks loose and rams through my thigh. I hiss out and clamp my mouth shut. A searing sting races through my body, stealing all my breath. I grind my teeth while fighting the growing nausea, sucking tiny puffs of air in through my nose. The pounding agony in my head matching the beat pulsing through my abused thigh.

Things start to settle, but all I can focus on is the tingling sensation in my gums intensifying by the second. All I can smell is the sweet allure of blood in the air, spiking my thirst by the minute. My battered body homing in on what it needs, but I can’t satisfy that right now. I squeeze my eyes closed and take some calming breaths through my mouth, controlling my urges. I need off this bus before I lose my control.

When I glance around, most of the windows are busted out and the back two rows are crushed. I quickly avert my eyes from a person trapped under one of the smashed seats. Wiping the dripping blood away from my eyes, I look down at my thigh and the bar protruding through it. I’ve watched one too many medical shows that I know not to remove it right now.

I look over at the busted-out window next to me. The back doors are so crunched they won’t open, and the front door is pointing straight up in the air. This window is the best alternative. My head’s swimming, and I feel like I’m going to be sick, but I need off this fucking death trap. After unlatching my seatbelt, I use the headrest next to me to pull myself upright and wobble unsteadily to the window. I pull my hoodie off and throw it on the window frame so I can climb over the glass.

More vehicles continue to crash and rain around us. The cries and screams of people make my ears ring so fiercely, but all the sounds somehow blend into an echo. My triceps strain as I avoid putting weight on my injured leg and push myself up with only my arms. I shimmy through the window, planning to straddle it before jumping down.

This will fucking hurt like hell, but I don’t have a choice.

I’m about to pull my messed-up leg through when a whooshing sound makes me glance up. I gasp. Another car is falling from the gaping hole in the bridge. There isn’t a chance to move in or out of the window as the car crashes into the bus, rocking and spinning the entire structure. I’m jostled within the sharp confines of the broken window, pain shooting everywhere.

The bus topples over, settling precariously on its roof. My body aching in more ways than I can count. There’s so much screaming, but it’s getting more distant, almost foggy, as everything goes black…