Free The Slayer Chronicles: First Kill by Heather Brewer Page A

I don’t recommend it.”
    Joss tried to imagine being whipped by another human being, but couldn’t. That wasn’t something that happened to real people. It was the stuff of movies, the stuff of books. Not real.
    Without another word, Malek retreated down the mountainside, leaving Joss to fend for himself for a second night.
    In the dark wilderness, it didn’t take long for paranoia to set in. Every cricket’s chirp was a vampire. Every breeze through the trees was a vampire. Joss slumped against a tree, his heart beating softly inside his chest, his tongue so dry inside his mouth, his stomach ripe with hunger pains. There had been no vampires—not even a single little sign of the creatures—since his purification had begun. He was beginning to think he’d imagined Cecile’s murder, as well as the vampire he’d stopped from killing Kat. Maybe he was crazy, and all of this was simply a part of his imaginary world. Maybe everyone—all the Slayers, even—were part of his imagination, too. This thought crept into his hungry, exhausted mind, and disappeared again like a whisper. Vampires were real, he knew that much. It was just his lack of food and sleep that was making him wonder such ridiculous things.
    He watched the sun setting behind the trees, and it wasn’t long before darkness took him over.

8
     
    PICKING FLOWERS
     
    In the distance, Joss could hear someone humming. The sound was soft and sweet and reminded him of home. Though he was certain it had been night just a moment before, daylight filled the clearing now, illuminating every inch of the forest as far as he could see. Standing, Joss followed the lyrical sound of the humming until he came upon a field of wildflowers. A young girl was crouched in the middle of the field, plucking purple flowers from the ground and placing them in the bunch grasped tightly in her left hand. Her blond curls were pulled up in a ponytail that just barely brushed against her tan skin. She was wearing a yellow sundress that reminded him of the color of his mom’s kitchen.
    He knew the girl, but feared speaking her name out loud. Because something was wrong with this scene, but Joss couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. “Cecile, what are you doing out here?”
    She turned her head to the side at the sound of his voice, but didn’t speak. Joss wasn’t certain why, but he was relieved to see her cheek clean and tan. When she went back to picking flowers, he crossed the field, daisies bouncing against his ankles as he moved closer to his sister. “Cecile, what are you doing here? Mom wouldn’t want you out here, you know.”
    “I’m picking flowers, Jossie.” She turned her head to the side again to glimpse her brother.
    Joss’s heart skipped a beat. Something was on Cecile’s cheek. A dark line. It looked like blood.
    Then he remembered. Cecile was dead. She was dead and it was all his fault.
    He slowed his steps, stopping just a few feet behind her. His fingers were trembling. “Why are you picking flowers, Cecile?”
    “To take them with me.” She turned around then. Once again, her eye sockets were black, soulless tunnels. Deep within those dark tunnels, Joss could see flames. When she opened her mouth to speak again, a large centipede crawled out. “There are no flowers in hell, Jossie.”
    Joss shoved his sister away. He felt terrible for doing so, but he was so frightened, he could hardly breathe. His chest tightened in panicked breaths and he backed away. “You’re not in hell, Cecile! You’re not!”
    Cecile crawled after him in a twitching hurry, her mouth oozing all sorts of insects, her eyes devoid of all life. She clutched his ankle, crying. “Oh, yes I am. And you put me there, Jossie. You did this to me.”
    Her tears disappeared quickly as her mouth contorted into a grin. Inside her mouth were fangs. Fangs covered in blood.

9
     
    A SIMPLE MISTAKE
     
    Joss woke with a start. Warmth, glorious wonderful warmth covered his cheek, and