Death Awakening (The Society Series) Read online

  Death

  Awakening

  Mason Sabre

  Dedications

  To those who know me truly and still don’t disappear.

  To Yvette, whom this book is about. Thank you for joining my cast of characters.

  Death Awakening

  Mason Sabre

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Author: Mason Sabre

  Cover Art by Sabre, Gray and Bane

  http://www.sabregraybanecoverstudio.com

  Copyright © 2016 by Mason Sabre. All rights reserved, including the right to publish this book or portions thereof (except for reviews, news media reports, brief quotes with attribution, and purposes of promotion of this book or other novels by Mason Sabre) in any form whatsoever.

  Written permission may be obtained from the author.

  ISBN-13: 978-1530864881

  ISBN-10: 1530864887

  www.masonsabre.com

  [email protected]

  https://www.facebook.com/msabre3

  Other Titles

  Watch Over You

  The Rise of the Phoenix

  Cade

  Dark Veil

  Hidden

  Death Awakening

  Mason Sabre

  Chapter One

  The moon was a damn flashlight in the sky, not only illuminating the way for forbidden travellers, who bravely trekked through the darkness, but it also brought out the crazy ones—the Humans, the wannabes. The place throbbed with them. Maggots oozing out of the woodwork and dropping their shit on the newly polished floor. Yvette’s glare landed on each of them in turn. Their pulses raced, pounding in time with the music, calling to Yvette—sirens in the sea of people. A dangerous temptation that was more trouble than it was worth. Her fangs pierced the inside of her bottom lip, as she inhaled a calming breath.

  Mistake … big mistake.

  The scents of cheap perfume, liquor, and the ever greedy Humans swirled in the air—a lusty aroma of femininity pervaded the room. Girls ready for boys, turned on by the fear of not just the darkness, but what the darkness held. Yvette pulled a tray filled with glasses from the washer under the counter and dumped it onto the bar, the glasses clanging against each other and steam rolling into the air, hiding the idiots from her sight for a moment. It was always this way when the moon was full. Humans thinking it great to head out to bars and mingle with the Otherkind.

  “You’re going to break all of my glasses, Vet,” Raven said as he reached up to the optic display and unclipped one of the vodka bottles.

  “Sorry …” She wiped a glass and then shoved it onto the shelf above her, slamming the glass into another.

  Raven, bar owner and panther shifter, came to stand beside her, his large frame towering over her. He rested the empty bottle on the counter and pierced her with a look. “You’re going to be alright while I am out?” Raven had to shift. It was a full moon. Not only did it bring out the Humans, but it also brought out the shifters—the packs. Not that Raven had a pack. He was one of the loners. He didn’t call himself stray, however. Strays were animals or Others that packs didn’t want. But Raven wasn’t unwanted; he’d just been betrayed enough times to know that the only person he could trust was himself.

  “I’ll be okay.” Her glance fell back onto the Human patrons who danced out of rhythm to music—uncoordinated idiots. If she could take one glass and jam it into their thick, stupid, annoying skulls and put some sense into them, she would. Fucking Humans. They were scared shitless of Others, yet here they were, hanging out with the freaks in a freak bar, thinking it made them cool. They were walking, talking and ruling contradictions. The room vibrated with life—and pulses—each one of them calling to Yvette.

  Pavlov’s bloody bell.

  “I didn’t feed last night,” she admitted. It had been a mistake not to. Especially on this night. Now she had to stand behind the bar serving these Humans and drooling.

  “Shit. Vet …”

  “I’ll feed tonight,” she hastily cut him off. “Maybe knock off one of these idiots.” Raven raised a brow at her. “I’m kidding.” She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Besides, I’d probably end up drunk from it, and who needs that?”

  It wasn't that Raven was a serious guy … well, he was a serious guy, but he could be light-hearted and humorous. It was just that he knew the dangers that came from saying flippant things, and then when they happened, suddenly the shit was real.

  “I’ll feed later. I promise.”

  “Don’t you be showing up for work tomorrow if you haven’t. You hear me?” Raven launched the bottle into the glass bin at the side of the bar as he walked away to get another. The smashing glass gave a satisfying crunch as it landed and shattered. That was what Yvette needed—to throw something. All these baby goths coming in and ordering Bloody Marys with a giggle because, for some reason, they imagined that it was the drink of Others. If Yvette didn’t hear that being ordered at least once an hour, she would swear she was in the wrong place.

  She kept some blood in the fridge at home. She would feel better when she got that down her. Thing was, she just didn't like the taste of it, and sometimes she would go a day too long without feeding. When her hunger was huge, it was much easier to force herself to drink the vile excuse for a blood source. Blood was best when it was fresh from the Human. When it was warm and pumping right from the veins, so full of life. Of course, that was forbidden. Like everything else that was natural to Others, Humans found a way to take it and ban it. Vampires were forced to survive on blood donations—bags of blood that were rife with disease, blood from the dead. It didn’t matter to the Humans as long as it wasn’t fresh from a Human. It was a shame vampires couldn’t feed on each other. It would be the perfect solution, never needing to worry about finding food. But a vampire needed the sustenance only living blood could offer them. Drinking from each other had no benefit whatsoever, as vampires were basically walking dead.

  Contrariwise, Yvette’s kind could feast as much as they liked from Others—their blood was undoubtedly the most sublime, bursting with incredible power and life that you could literally taste. After feeding from an Other, a vampire adopted their remarkable strength for hours after.

  Unfortunately, it was always hard to come across someone willing to do that, especially without a fee.

  Yvette sighed. She hardly remembered what it was like to be Human, even though it wasn’t that long ago—not in vampire terms at least. She was still a baby.

  She snapped a rubber band around her long, black hair, curling it into a bun at the back of her head. It was annoying her tonight, constantly falling forward onto her face.

  “Hey you.” A boy stood at the side of the bar with three friends. Boy … He was too young to be seen as anything else. His face was barely out of pock-marked puberty, his hair still greasy like he hadn’t yet learnt to wash it himself. It would not surprise Yvette to learn that he still suckled at his mother’s breast.

  “That would be excuse me,” Yvette ground out as she walked across the small way to that side of the bar. She tucked her cloth into the belt of her small apron. “Manners are free, you know?”

  "Well, excuse me," the boy mimicked, making his friend guffaw and causing the girls with them to giggle. Yvette stood with her hands on her slender waist, hip jutting out to the side as she waited for the chortling to stop. Maybe she wouldn't have to dine on donated blood after all. Maybe she had a bloody four-course meal right in front of her. Hell, it even came with free liquor. They were all shit-faced. One of the girls, maybe the young
est of the bunch, had smudged make-up and messy hair—evidence of a good night out. She slid sideways onto her friend as she laughed, causing them both to nearly fall flat on their arses, which only succeeded in bringing about more echoes of laughter from them all.

  “We want a drink,” the boy slurred. He was young, early twenties, blond. The kind of boy that Troy had been when they had met—loud, confident—but maybe not so cocky and stupid.

  “Do you think it is wise?” She leaned in close to him, palms flat on the bar top. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

  The boy’s friends roared with laughter at Yvette’s words. Yvette kept her face perfectly still, silently praying for patience.

  “Don’t you have a sense of humour?” the girl who wasn’t as drunk said.

  “I lost it years ago.”

  "You're a vampire." The drunken girl garbled her words, a cockeyed smile on her face at that piece of information—ground-breaking news apparently.

  “What gave it away? These?” Her lips pulled back into a distorted sneer, revealing her fangs. They weren’t extended fully at the moment, but still they showed what she was when she spoke.

  "I thought vampires were meant to be young. You look too old.”

  It was the boys’ turn to laugh. The one who had been speaking to Yvette patted the girl on the back in commendation.

  "Well, it's true. She looks like … forty or something." She drew out the word as if it were a disease.

  “How old were you when you turned?” the boy demanded.

  Yvette tapped her foot. These fucking Humans didn’t know why vampires aged; they had no business asking. She narrowed her eyes at them. “What do you want to drink?”

  The boy smirked—a fucking slimy smirk that Yvette would have wiped right off his face if she had the choice. His eyes glinted with satisfaction at her annoyance. “I said how old were you when you turned?”

  “I heard what you said,” she said flatly.

  “It isn’t polite to ignore me.”

  The other boy pressed in close, shaking his head, encouraging his friend. “Come on, vampire. It’s just a simple question.”

  Yvette glared at both of them, causing their heartbeats to up a level. “It is of no concern to you. Now, I said, what do you want to drink?”

  “Oh, but it is,” he leered. “If I ask you, you have to answer me. You know how it works.” And there it was. Condescending Humans with their shitty ideas and superiority complexes. "I asked how old you were."

  “And I said it is none of your god damn business,” she grated.

  He pushed himself up from the stool to appear taller and leaned over the bar. He was nothing to Yvette. Just a piece of shit that she could crush if she wanted to. “It is my business if I make it my business.”

  She got right into his face. “I could snap you in two.”

  The boy grinned. “You could, but you won’t. I can have DSA come here and close this place down. Is that what you want?”

  They were eye to eye, his alcohol-fumed breath assaulting her senses.

  “Aw, come on. Tell us and we’ll order our drinks and go,” his friend chimed in.

  Yvette swore inwardly, wishing that it wasn’t illegal to bite Humans. “I was twenty-three, arsehole.”

  “Twenty-three?” one of the girls squeaked. “How the hell are you only twenty-three? You don’t even look in your twenties.”

  “You really that stupid?” Yvette snorted.

  Her friend’s eyes went wide as some sort of realisation seemed to hit her. “It’s that thing, isn’t it?” she said excitedly, staring at Yvette in wonderment. “They say there are some vampires that age because of … of … what was his name ... the one they buried up at the Hill ... You know?”

  "Ohhh …" The boy that had started this whole thing perked up. "I remember hearing about that. They buried some ornery bloodsucker for refusing to lead his community, and now you all grow old. Makes being immortal all pretty pointless, doesn’t it?" he guffawed. "You get to be stuck like an old woman forever."

  Ah yes, the tales of the vampire who hadn’t wanted his kind. Hadn’t wanted any kind. He had been condemned for not taking his place. Condemned and locked away until he agreed to accept his lawful place. But he never did, so they killed him, slowly—staked him so that his life would gradually drain away and, with that, all the vampires in his line would age and eventually die as well. Unlike other vampires, who enjoyed eternal youth and immortality.

  Yvette had been a vampire for little over thirty years, and while her looks and age should have frozen at twenty-three, her face had aged, her skin had started to wrinkle, and she looked more like someone in their mid-forties than the girl she had been when she’d turned. She was still attractive, however, her dark hair falling to her shoulders and framing her pretty, heart-shaped face, while she continued to retain her appealing girlish physique. “Don’t you know your local history? Maybe I should be asking for identification. Make sure that you’re old enough to be served or send you back to your mummies.”

  The boy’s face grew dark, his brow deepening. The pulse in his temple throbbed, and she heard his heartbeat rise a notch. He reached over and clamped his fingers around her wrist, a menacing look on his face. The pain was instant, her skin sizzling under his grasp. She snatched her hand back and hissed at him, her fangs piercing her bottom lip. Strong hands gripped her waist and pulled her backwards.

  Raven.

  “Is there a problem?” His deep voice boomed out over the sound of the crowd.

  “Yeah,” the boy griped. “I want a drink and this thing here won’t serve me.”

  Yvette took a step closer to him, and the boy quickly lifted his hand to flash the silver ring on his finger at her. The thick plate on the underside glinted from the mirror ball rotating above them.

  Yvette rubbed at her wrist. The fucking shit. He had burnt her with that silver on purpose. With her degenerating physicality, it would take a while for it to heal.

  Raven’s eyes narrowed. “You brought silver into my bar?”

  The boy swallowed as he sized Raven up. Raven was big, his size often enough to shut cocky little boys up. His deep voice was commanding on its own, without the need to ever raise it, but it was his mere size and muscle that had the power to intimidate even the toughest opponent. It was also one of the reasons he got so much attention from the female population, as was the case with the two young girls who now stood giggling and nudging at each other as they batted their eyelashes at an indifferent Raven.

  It was never a good idea to piss Raven off, but the youth in front of him wasn’t about to back down and lose face in front of his friends. "Yeah, and a good job I did, too." He pointed accusingly at Yvette. “She was going to kill me.”

  Yvette snarled. It wasn't that she couldn't handle them, but she was a vampire, bound by laws. It was also not her place to bring bloodshed into Raven's bar. She respected him too much for that. He had given her a job. He had helped her in more ways than she could count.

  Raven leaned in closer to them, his eyes focused on the other boy. “I know you. You’re one of the Marks boys, right?”

  Marks … Joseph Marks. He was one of the big players in the Human lands. A prick. A rich prick, but a prick nonetheless.

  “Yeah.”

  “If you know that, then you know not to fuck with us,” the first boy said haughtily.

  Raven angled his head to the side. “You’re his brother?”

  “That’s right. So you …”

  He stopped mid-sentence as Raven drew himself up to his full height. “If I were you, I’d think very well about what the next words to leave my mouth would be.” When he said nothing, Raven continued, “This is my bar. Now you either order a drink, or I suggest you find somewhere else to go entertain yourselves.”

  “We don’t want any of what you’re offering,” the boy spat.

  “Then you’ll be wanting the door …”

  “My dad will be hearing about this.”


  Raven smiled, unconcerned.

  One of the girls hopped off her seat, feigning a yawn. “Let’s go someplace else. I’m bored.” Her pounding heart, however, told Yvette that she was anything but bored.

  “No. I need to sort this out. No Other …”

  “Ryan, leave it.” She grabbed his arm to pull him back. “Let’s just go.”

  “Let your girlfriends take you home,” Yvette said flatly. Pieces of shit. If she had fed, she wouldn’t have been like this. It was knocking her off her game. She should have sensed the silver and thrown their fucking arses out into the dark hours ago.

  Ryan shook the girl’s hand from his arm and stormed out, his head held high, but his ego bruised. The girls and the other boy quickly scurried after him.

  “Idiots,” Yvette said as they left. She dabbed alcohol against her wrist, sealing the wound up as best she could.

  “That they are, but it is not good to play with your food, Vet.” Raven unclipped the keys from the chain attached to his belt. “Are you going to be okay to lock up?”

  Raven had to shift. It was late for him. Yvette was meant to have had help, but Annie, the other girl hadn’t come in. “I’ll be okay.” This last hour was nothing. When there was no full moon action going on, people got bored. If the Humans wanted real action, they’d have to realise that on these nights, Others—shifters—were out doing their thing. Not hanging in bars and providing entertainment.

  The hour went by quickly. People ordered drinks and chatted. Troy arrived not long after Raven left. He smiled and her heart skipped a beat. It never went away. All of these years together and he still had the power to turn her insides to jelly with just a smile. Troy. Her husband. The father of her children.

  He leaned over the bar and kissed her before he piled up some glasses on the bar for her. “I need to work tonight,” he said. “It’s a busy night out there. Worse than usual.”

  “Really?” She let herself out of the bar through the small side door, turning the lights down so that those still drinking knew there was no more service. “I hate these nights.” He carried the tray for her as they walked from table to table, clearing glasses.