Fan Fiction ❯ Illicit Angels-Caught between heaven and hell ❯ chapter 1 ( Chapter 2 )

***okay, I know I should have done this before but I'm doing it now. This story is entirely mine. Its copyright belongs to me and no one else. Please tell me what you think? THNX!!!!

Taylor's brow burned with his fever as he slipped in and out of consciousness. Peter could only sit and watched as Taylor's body tried to fight the vampiric blood that assaulted it. Kelly placed a cold washcloth on Taylor's forehead, hoping to ease the fever a bit. Ariel placed a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder as she kissed the top of his head softly.

"Do you think he'll live through it?" Ariel asked softly. Even though she was the only non-vampire in the room, Ariel knew that she had nothing to fear from her friends. Peter shrugged.

"At this point, it's hard to say," he sighed, shaking his head. He could remember going through the same ordeal several years ago, when he had been turned. Taylor's body shuddered violently.

"No, Lily!" Taylor cried out in his delirium. At the sound of her sister's name, Kelly let out a heart-wrenching sob. Peter stood and embraced Kelly, trying his best to comfort her.

"Kelly, we'll get them back, okay?" Peter whispered. "They'll pay for what they did to Taylor and Lily, I swear…Scott and his brothers will pay." Kelly nodded her head and withdrew from Peter's arms. Ariel looked over at her friend, Kelly, who was staring down at Taylor with and unreadable expression on her face…

Ariel awoke, gasping for breath. She sat up in her bed, looking around. She shivered. Why do I feel like I'm being watched? she asked herself, swallowing the urge to start crying. That dream… That dream, or, memory rather, had come back to haunt her ever since Lily…

Ariel shook her head. She didn't want to think about that. She wished that Peter were there to comfort her, to wrap his arms around her protectively and tell her it was going to be all right. But he wasn't. Ariel sighed heavily.

How was she ever going to get back to sleep? That dream always kept her up all night. But Ariel didn't know why the dream-memory kept coming back to trouble her.

How many more times will I have this dream? It's been two years since Lily's death and Taylor's change…shouldn't I be over it by now? Tomorrow…tomorrow, everything will get better…She comes tomorrow…

With that comforting thought, Ariel lay back down in her bed, snuggling into her black comforter and black sheets. She finally got comfortable and rested her head on her pillow. She comes tomorrow… Ariel thought one last time before her eyes closed and she drifted back to sleep…

* * *

Ben sighed heavily as he looked up at the brick house. He shook his head. I can't believe we're back in this town again, he said to himself. What is Scott trying to prove?

"Hey! Ben!" Clint called as he lugged a huge duffle bag into the house. "Get your lazy ass moving and help bring the stuff into the house!" Ben watched his brother as he disappeared into the house.

"I suppose I could help get our stuff in the house," Ben mumbled. "But I hope they still know that I'm here under duress."

"Ben, will you just relax?" Scott asked in exasperation as he came up behind his youngest brother. He put his hand on Ben's shoulder, sparing him a soft, understanding brotherly glance that he only gave to Ben, his youngest brother. Ben felt a pang of regret. Those glances were so rare ever since Lily was killed.

"Relax?" Ben returned sardonically. Scott shushed him hurriedly and nodded to the three men who were coming out of the house. All three wore black pants and shirts the color of blood. He recognized one of them as Zak, who was twenty years or so older that Scott and his brothers, though he was changed at the age of nineteen. He had chin length blond hair and black eyes and was known for being one of the more ruthless, reckless, and dangerous members of the Brotherhood. "Relax?" Ben asked again, in a whisper that only Scott could hear. "How can I relax when you've brought us back to this town where there are people who are still calling for our blood. And now, we're moving into a house that belonged to a family of six who were just murdered not more than three hours ago! And you want me to relax? Have you been feeding off of alcoholics again, Scott? You know the alcohol level in their blood makes you loopy."

"Ben, shut up," Scott said, rolling his eyes and smacking his brother on the back of his head. "Go find a Valium addict to feed off of and chill out. Better yet, find some one who uses Quaaludes."

"Yeah, Scott, that might work if I actually fed off of humans," Ben growled as he shouldered a huge bag that was heavy, even for him, and headed towards the front door of the house. He passed by the three men in red and watched from his peripheral vision as they approached Scott. As he stepped over the threshold, he heard them begin to speak.

"Well, every thing is in order," Zak said, stepping up to Scott. Scott nodded at him.

"Thanks. We appreciate it," Scott said respectfully.

"It's nothing," a second guy said, shaking his head. "The Brotherhood looks out for each other. It's the least we can do for the sons of one of our biggest patrons." Scott winced at the mention of his father.

"Yeah," Scott said distantly. "Well, guys, I think my brothers and I can take it from here. Thanks, again." He nodded again to the three men. Then, as if they had never been there at all, the three disappeared into the night. At that moment, another young man who looked about the age of nineteen approached. He wore black pants and a black t-shirt. His black boots made no sound as he walked toward Scott. He was wiping at his mouth. Scott sighed.

"Aaron, please tell me that you didn't leave another corpse laying out in the open for people to find again," Scott said, his shoulders sagging in his weariness. His brother laughed light-heartedly and shook his head.

"You worry too much, Scott," Aaron said as he finally drew up in front of his older brother.

"Aaron, we can't leave a blood trail…incase you forgot, the reason we had to leave our old hunting grounds was because there were too many deaths and the blood kept pointing to us. Your too reckless with your kills."

"It's okay, Scott," Aaron reassured him. "I hid the body where it'll take a long time to be discovered. Besides, since we don't exactly have traceable fingerprints, it's not like there'll be telltale signs that scream out our names." Scott sighed again and shook his head.

"Aaron, if you get us killed someday, I will never speak to you again," Scott said, stooping and picking up a couple bags. "Now, bring the rest of the stuff inside."

"There's five bags!" Aaron cried indignantly. "How come I have to take in five bags?"

"You've eaten…the rest of us are starving," Scott called over his shoulder. "Besides; I'm older so you have to do what I tell you to."

"You're only older by twelve years. Besides, I'm only a year younger than you were when you were turned," Aaron grumbled as he bent down and hefted a heavy bag onto his shoulders. He growled to himself as he headed for the front door…

* * *

Sam sighed with dismay as she watched her father deliver the killing blow to the vampire. The creature grimaced in pain and fell to the ground in a heap, the long knife embedded in its skull. Sam had been doing just fine until that one second, where she'd let her guard down, the vampire took the upper hand, knocking Sam off of her feet. The vampire surely would have killed her, had her father not been watching her. Sam wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She sighed once more and got to her feet.

"What went wrong?" her father asked. He wasn't inquiring out of curiosity or concern. He was testing Sam, seeing if she understood why she had lost.

"I lost my concentration," Sam said, shrugging her shoulders as she dusted off her clothes. "It caught me off guard, that's all."

"That's all?" Sam's father scoffed. "You almost got your self killed. If you'd been out, alone, you never would have come back home." Her father's voice was stern, but not unkind. He shook his head. "Maybe you're just not cut out to be a hunter."

"Yes I am!" Sam cried out. She glared at her father. "Every one makes mistakes once in a while."

"But yours would have been fatal and you can't afford those kinds of mistakes in this line of work," Sam's father said shaking his head. Sixteen-year-old Samantha Lark took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

"Dad, I can't hunt with you always hovering over me," she said rationally. "It makes me nervous. Besides, I was the youngest hunter to start training in all of the secondary covens. And, I'm the best out of my age group and every one knows it. I just made one mistake. It won't happen again." Sam's father seemed to take her words into consideration as he braced his foot against the head of the vampire and yanked his knife free.

"I'll think about it, Sammie," he said quietly. Sam nodded. She knew better than to press her case any further. If she did so, her father would become annoyed and just tell her `no'. "And, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't wear those baggy jeans when you're out patrolling. They're not practical." Sam looked down at her self. She was wearing a black tank top, her favorite baggy jeans, and her black combat boots. Personally, she didn't see what was so unpractical about her jeans. She shrugged to her self. What ever.

"So, where are we going to dispose of this one?" Sam asked, nudging the body with the toe of her boot.

"In the back yard, like the others," her father said plainly as he lifted the body and carried it over to the white truck, parked just down the street. Sam smiled. To any one else, her father's remark would have sounded morbid. But to any other hunter, it would have sounded perfectly logical. There was less chance for the body to be discovered by the wrong kind of people, like scientists, and besides; vampires decomposed quickly and with out the stench of death. And they made for great fertilizer for a garden. Sam's mother had a beautiful garden…

* * *

Taylor scuffed his shoe on the concrete as he waited for Peter. He looked up at the sky, ignoring the pang of hunger that rolled in his stomach. He hated having to feed. He always felt as though he was on the verge of losing his self-control.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Kelly asked in her velvet-soft voice as she approached Taylor. Taylor shrugged, still looking up at the sky, enjoying the fact that he could see more of the glittering stars than most men could on a clear night with one of those telescopes t.hat people sometimes have in their homes. One of the few perks of being a Vampire

"You just fed?" Taylor asked, knowing the answer. He could smell blood on Kelly's breath. But it was something to fill the silence

"Yeah…you?" Kelly replied, trying to strike up a conversation. Taylor said nothing but shook his head, still gazing skyward. "Any thing interesting up there?" Kelly asked, determined to find something to talk about with Taylor. Easier said than done. Taylor was quiet by nature. He used to get chatty at times whenever he was around his close friends. But that was before he had been turned. Ever since then, Taylor had been unusually quiet and brooding most of the time. Won't he ever get over Lily's death? Kelly asked silently. She fought the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, yelling `Snap out of it! Look at me!'.

"Peter's coming back," Taylor said absently. Sure enough, a few seconds later, Peter walked up to where his younger brother and Kelly stood. Taylor finally tore his vision away from the night sky to look at his brother.

Peter wore a drowsily content look on his face. He must have fed pretty well, Taylor thought to himself. He was slightly envious that his brother could feed with out the fear of losing control. But then, Peter had been a vampire longer than he had. It had only been two years, after all. Another hunger pang ripped through his body, further reminding him of his situation.

"You guys done?" Peter asked, referring to feeding. Kelly nodded. Taylor flicked his eyes once more to the celestial scene overhead.

"Yeah," he said finally. "Let's go home." With out a word the trio headed toward their homes…

* * *

Tawny tossed and turned fitfully in her sleep. With out warning she shot upright in the motel bed that she and her mother were sharing. She let out a heart stopping scream, as her body shook violently in her fear and she was dripping with sweat. Her mother was instantly awake and attempting to comfort her while keeping her quiet. Though her eyes were wide open she was still caught up in the remnants of her dreams. It was just a reoccurring nightmare. But was more vivid than it had ever been before. She'd been having these dreams ever since she could remember. And they still terrified her.

It seemed to take forever for reality to make its presence known to her. But even while fully awake…Tawny couldn't get those images out of her mind…all those faces…the screaming…the blood… They haunted her.

"Tawny? Honey, its okay," her mother's voice seemed far away but comforting nonetheless. "It was just a dream, baby…only a dream…" It was then that she was jolted back into reality and she realized that her mother's arms were around her and she was being rocked back and forth. Suddenly she found the hot bed sheets, her pajamas, even her mothers arms…confining. She pushed away from her mother and tumbled backward off of the bed, scrambling to her feet.

"I can't!" she gasped. Her mother watched her apprehensively.

"Can't what, Baby?" she asked her daughter slowly. Tawny shook her head as though trying to make sense of her own thoughts

"Can't…. I don't know…I…" Tawny sunk to her knees, tears spilling from her eyes. Tawny's mother could only stare, helpless, as her daughter broke down…not for the first time…just like her father used to.