Free Lost by Lori Devoti

 
     
    Chapter One
    Rachel Daniels grabbed at the darkness. Shards of stone cut into her fingers and then fell into the void beneath her. Seconds passed before the bits landed with a light clatter, telling her she had climbed too far to consider returning the way she had come.
    She tightened her fingers around the rock under her hand. Her chest was flat against the stone-faced cliff; blood oozed from her wounds. One false move and she would fall like that shard, roll, and break until she lay lifeless on the ground below.
    Her eyelids screwed shut, and tears leaked from her eyes.
    Now was not the time to panic, not the time to think about what she had left behind.
    In the distance, or maybe only in her mind, she heard the noises again— metal screeching. Metal like a car being torn apart.
    Another screech followed. This one from some animal or creature.
    A shiver shot through her, but guilt did too.
    She should go back. Her friends were still there, and Nancy at least was alive... or had been.
    Rachel sucked in a breath and tried to regain control of her rampaging mind.
    When she'd started up the cliff, it had seemed her only option, but now she realized what folly the choice had been. Up or down? Her foot slid back the way she had come. Her body slid too. One foot, two. She had lost control.
    Panicked, she clawed at the stone. Her foot hit a root or plant that had somehow managed to grow out of the hard cliffside. Her heart hammered against her chest. She muttered to herself, told herself not to panic, that leaving had been the right choice.
    Nancy had told her to call for help, but there was no cell signal near the car. When Rachel had run into the wall, she’d known she would have to climb to higher ground. However, in the dark, she hadn’t been able to see that the climb would be this steep or long.
    And now she was committed. No easy way up or down.
    She clung to the cliff’s face, reality settling over her. Her heart slowed, and her emotions calmed.
    The noises... they weren't real. They were simply the product of her stressed mind, egged on by her friends’ stories of the deserted canyon and the monster that lived here.
    Urban myths, fireside stories to scare Girl Scouts. Nothing more.
    But the accident... That wasn't her imagination, and neither was the fact that her friends needed her to find someone, call someone, to help them.
    It was up to her. She had to keep climbing. The cliff had to end somewhere. It had to.
    o0o
    Wind tore at Cameron Renault's hair. He lifted his chin and breathed in the biting breeze; the scent of vampire gone mad came with it.
    Dorian was near.
    Cameron lifted his lips and bared his teeth.
    Damn Dorian for playing with danger, for coming to this cursed place one too many times.
    Behind Cameron, over the cliff’s side, stones rattled.
    He stilled, stopped even the habitual pretense of breath. His body quiet, he focused every sense on the source of the noise.
    Another rattle, followed by a wheezing gasp.
    Cameron's attention sharpened, and his instincts jumped forward. A new sound surfaced, the pounding of a human heart pumping blood, sweet and thick, through a body he couldn't see.
    His eyes dilated, and he could feel his body shift from casual if annoyed observer to hunter. Heat wafted toward him, escaping that still-hidden fragile human form. His tongue darted from his mouth, flicked over one of the razor sharp canines that, alone in the woods, he hadn't bothered to conceal.
    Prey was near.
    He took a step forward.
    A hand, pale in the darkness, appeared over the cliff's edge. It was small and delicate, each bone clearly visible as it grasped blindly, searching for some hold.
    Saliva filled his mouth. He could taste....
    He tensed and clamped down on the thought.
    This place, the tales weren't all false. There was something about it, something that brought out the animal in the most docile of creatures. Brought out the monster in those already teetering on the brink.
    But Cameron