So here is chapter 3, please lemme know how I am doing, guys. Ratings? Yes, please. Comments, absolutely. Also, if you're gonna be rude about my story then you need not read it. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. Rudeness is not.
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If all the adrenaline in Sage's body hadn't been circulating as fast as a gazelle ran from a lion, she would have felt the dull ache that was mostly in her legs. She would have felt the cramping in her shoulders and back. She probably would have also felt her sister's sharp hip stabbing into her neck, as she carried her up the path to her home, Vic's limp body, draped over one shoulder.
The vamp hadn't taken as much blood as Sage had thought, which was good. Based on Vic's silence she was most likely in shock. She had done her best to keep talking to her sister as she hustled to the house. She asked her question that were easy, 'what's two plus two', 'how many fingers do you have'. Her sister had answered sporadically, but she had answered correctly. As Sage took the final few steps to her sister's door, she realized that her hands had been clenched, her fingernails digging into the skin of her palm.
She was angry.
No, no, that was an understatement.
A severe one. Sage was fucking pissed.
Someone had attacked her sister. Tried to kill her. On orders.
Who would put orders out to kill her sister? No, she had a better question. What supernatural being put orders out to kill her?
If it had been a human that'd come after Vicki, Sage could have easily fought them off with little to no surprise. Her sister, despite her swearing to innocence, was anything but, and was constantly getting into trouble with anyone that could afford it.
But a supernatural? Sage knew for a fact that Vic knew nothing about the paranormal world. She had made sure of this. And she was one hundred percent certain that her younger sister knew nothing of what her and the girls did. As far as Vicki should have known Regan and Carmen were bartenders, Brie was basically a stay at home mom to her younger sister, and Sage worked for a software company. Explaining to Vicki why her sister, the software developer, carried around a huge gun was going to be tricky, but she had explained harder things before.
Was it possible that Vicki had gotten mixed up in something she didn't really understand? Sage scoffed. Of course it was possible. It was actually probable, knowing her sister. But not with supernaturals...
Sage shoved the thought away as she approached the front door. Fishing in her pocket for her keys, she managed an odd juggling act, tossing her keys around in one hand, finding the right one and inserting it into slot, while keeping her sister balanced on her shoulder. As the dark hallway revealed itself, illuminated by only moonlight, the smell of old food and cat pee assaulted her.
Good old Vicki. Doing her best to make a safe and healthy environment for her boys.
Reluctantly, and because her shoulder was killing her, Sage entered the dark house. Her sister's room was at the back of the house, the last room in the hallway, and Sage headed there, pushing empty food cans and pizza boxes out of her way.
Without feeling around for a light switch, Sage brought her sister to her twin bed in the corner, and laid her down gently. She settled the smaller girl in, pulling the blanket that had been shoved to a corner of the bed over her sister's body and adjusting her head on the pillow.
Out of precaution, Sage placed her fingers on the artery on her sister's neck. The pulse was slow but strong. Her sister would be fine after rest. Sage stood up, looking around the dark room. She didn't need to have lights on to know that most likely the area around the bed looked as if a hurricane had passed through right after a wild bull. Any person off the streets would be beyond shocked to know that Vicki's room was actually the dirtiest room in the house, besides the kitchen and living room. Her boy's room, unlike other boys their age, was kept immaculate. Not because Vicki enforced it, but because the boys had somehow gotten the angelic gene and were nothing like their mother.
They were all right in school, behavior wise, they cleaned up after themselves. Jordan, the oldest of the two, could cook a decent meal for his younger brother, Jacob. The boys were just about the most resourceful kids Sage had ever met. It was sad to think that they even had to be considering their mom was one room over.
It almost disgusted her. Sage hadn't raised her like that.
Her mind went back to what the vamp had said in the alley.
If I didn't have orders, I would drain her dry right here, right now. She could feel the irritation build again, followed closely by the confusion.
She exited her sister's bedroom, closing the door behind her. The same questions that were in her mind before, entered again. She didn't know any person who had the power or the status to control vampires. Vamps did what they wanted. They couldn't be manipulated. They had a king, yes, but what did he have against Vicki that would make him want to send people after her?
Sage walked down the unlit hall, trying her best not to make too much noise as she passed Jordan and Jacob's room. From the still open door, moonlight emptied its beams into the living room, lighting up the area like a bright white candle. Papers, pizza boxes, and empty beer cans littered the floor, couch and table. She bypassed the main room, doing her best to ignore the mess and headed to her left. The kitchen was in no better of a state than the other two rooms she had left. Empty cans of ravioli topped off dishes that had piled into the sink like a star on top of a Christmas tree. More beer cans, more pizza boxes. The place was a sty. Completely unsanitary, and Sage found herself reevaluating her own lifestyle.
"Auntie Sage?" A small voice cracked the silence that had become an envelope. The blonde turned to find her oldest nephew standing at the entrance of the kitchen. His footie pajamas were stretched taut over his growing body, to the point where the collar of his shirt was rubbing the skin raw. She remembered when she had bought him those pajamas, when he was 5 going on 6. It looked as if he had long since grown out of them. Sage's heart melted, as she crouched down to one knee and opened her arms.
"Hey buddy. What are you doing up?" the boy entered her embrace and allowed her to hug him tightly.
Poor kid, she told herself as she subtly rocked him back and forth.
"I heard you come in with mom. Is she okay?" He pulled out of her arms to look her in the face. The moonlight, despite being in the other room, reflected off of him perfectly. Sage saw herself at that age in his green eyes. Strong, resourceful and tired. He had been Jacob's father and friend since the boy was born. She knew that feeling. All too well.
"Your mom's fine, kiddo. She's just a bit tired."
"She's always tired. That or drunk." There was a hint of disgust in the boy's voice.
Sage could only nod. The kid was seven. He shouldn't have even known what that word 'drunk' meant.
"I know, Jordy. I know but your mom needs her rest and so do you. You have school tomorrow, am I right?" Sage stood up and began pushing her nephew out the kitchen, as he nodded solemnly. The boy's aunt followed him to his room, and stood at the door as he tucked himself in. While she couldn't see where he was, she could hear the rustle of sheets. Above him, Jacob turned over, disturbed by the sound.
"Aunt Sage?"
"Yeah?'
"The school is having open house next week." There was a pause before the words fell out of his mouth. "I don't want mom to come."
