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  It’s up to Lucas and Leon to find Raven and save her from the vampires and the other dead corpses rising, because she is their only hope of surviving the evil that is about to overrun their world. The question is: Can they outlast the dead and their insatiable thirst?

  Praise for BLOODED:

  “[A.D. Key’s] prose is excellent…a rich and creative imagination, a work that will delight.”

  -Divine Zape

  “…exciting tale of vampires, shadows and zombies…an exhilarating and heart racing tale that will make you want more.”

  -Rabia Tanveer

  “[A.D. Key’s] voice is unique…a beautiful style…creates a thrilling sense of suspense.”

  -Readers’ Favorite

  BLOODED

  DEAD THINGS

  Also by A.D. Key

  SERIES:

  Blooded 2: Secrets

  Blooded 3

  Coming soon!

  Blooded

  Dead Things

  New 2019 Edition

  A.D. KEY

  ~~~

  Copyright © 2013.

  New 2019 Edition © 2019 by A.D. Key

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  First published in October 2013. New Edition March 2019.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ~~

  DEAD THINGS

  This is for my mother for reading to me. And for my English teacher at Springfield High School (TN) for telling me I was a writer. May you both rest in peace.

  ~

  CONTENTS

  BLOODED

  Blooded

  DEAD THINGS

  PROLOGUE

  1. In The Beginning

  PART ONE

  2: First Encounters

  3: The Weeping Willow

  PART TWO

  4: In The Same Town

  5: Out of the Clear Blue Sky

  6: Hope

  PART THREE

  7: Dreams and Visions

  8: Friends and Enemies

  9: All Connected

  PART FOUR

  10: Road Trip

  Epilogue: Hello and Goodbye

  About The Author

  Shadow (n): 1, A spy. 2, A phantom. –v.t.

  1, Trail; stay near, -shadowy, adj.

  Blue: A color with a variety of meanings

  PROLOGUE

  MAY 9

  1. In The Beginning

  LEE STARTED to think about the recent proceedings that brought him to this terrifying moment in time.

  He had been driving slowly along, the digital clock on the dashboard told him it was nine o’clock. “Late,” he muttered to himself and rolled his eyes. It was after dark. August Cemetery closed an hour ago and for now, Lee’s employment involved making sure everyone had vacated the premises. Having no use for a cemetery, he highly hopes his father will pass down the reigns to his other progeny—Kimberly. Lee didn’t desire a future that consisted of burying dead people—that was his sister Kimberly’s weird idea of happiness. The truth was Lee detested graveyards ever since he was a kid. But with their dad, it was his way or the highway.

  Suddenly his door opened and a pair of hands yanked at his shirt, snatching him from his truck and he was unnervingly thrown to the dirt of a fresh grave.

  And now, Lee’s precious blood was being pulled from his body. Literally pulled. The petrified man couldn’t do anything but concentrate on the pain. The pain of every blood drop reluctantly leaving his robust heart.

  The man was forced to stand, as if he were a post in the ground, in front of the black-haired Vampire while white dots stalked from an omnipresent sky. What was their use in spying? Would they really grant him his life? Instead, the stars winked a cruel farewell, twinkling in the dark night while the man’s blood flowed out of his mouth, into the air like a stream, and through the parted lips of the ravenous Vampire.

  Lee tried to run. But the killer’s hand that was held out somehow compelled him to stand still. The dying man gagged on his own blood.

  Agony. It was beyond agony when something in Lee’s brain snapped. The life force—his blood—had been partially forced out of his body and into the Vampire’s mouth, but now the rest of the man’s blood began pouring out through all the orifices on his face: his mouth, nose, ears, and eyes. Even slight gusts of wind did not help. They couldn’t stop paths of coalescing and merging red surges of blood from promptly entering the Vampire’s nose and mouth.

  Coming within reach of their expiration date, Lee’s deprived respiratory organs demanded attention from inside the man’s chest, as if they would create holes with their shielding rib cage to obtain the oxygen they desperately needed. Trepidation tumbled into the defenseless victim. Lee could feel the precious heart all mammals need still thrashing inside of him. But in his spirit, the man knew it was going to be useless and ineffectual for him.

  With calamitous blood loss and a severe lack of oxygen, the suffocating man was sure of one thing. The stupefying spectrum of vibrant colors. They moved in waves of…ecstasy. Who knew death could be so friendly and pleasant?

  Lee attempted to breathe and his world egressed in ebony.

  The last drop of blood the Vampire could take entered his mouth and he let the man’s carcass collapse to the dirt. The Vampire heard the rapid pat pat of footsteps and knew she was here. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face.

  Abruptly, his enemy flipped down over the whitish-gray cemented wall and the dead human’s idling monochrome truck still parked on the paved trail with the driver side door open. “Kronos,” she said with annoyance and satisfaction.

  The Vampire with shoulder length, midnight black hair took a step forward into the illumination casting out from the street lamp, unveiling the scars on his square face; a horizontal disfigurement on his left cheek approximately three inches long, and another scar ran diagonally through his right eyebrow. His ghastly, demoralizing appearance was worthy of recoiling but the girl maintained her calm posture as he knew she would.

  “Lana!” Kronos said, smiling with glee. “I was going to grab something to go, but when I heard you I wondered… Well, it appears I eat faster than you run, Shadow.” His vindictive grin expanded; the scar residing at the right corner of his upturned lip continued underneath his earlobe.

  Clasping her wooden stake, a handcrafted form of execution, Lana glanced at the lifeless man on the ground just behind Kronos. LEE was sown into his shirt.

  “Oh, it’s dead. I suppose that is another that dies on your time.” The Vampire charged the vigilant tracker.

  Due to Lana’s small, diminutive frame, Vampires and humans tend to underestimate the girl’s competency. But not Kronos. He no longer questioned his foe’s abilities. He would enjoy his thirty-five-year-old-looking face a lot more if this eighteen year old wasn’t around to mess it up again—in other words, when she’s dead.

  Lana swung her right arm to stake the taunting blood sucker. But Kronos grabbed her wrist and squeezed her throat, making it difficult for the Shadow to counterattack. The Vampire pinned the girl against the vehicle door, having used her rear to slam it closed.

  Two noticeable scars ran parallel through the top and bottom of the girl’s tiny scarlet lips. There was a third, smaller scar next to the two on her bottom lip.

  “Let me see,” the nefarious Vampire said. An
d stroked her dark hair away from her ear. The dexterous girl vigorously delivered a punch to his ribs and he retaliated with a vicious head butt. Her hair fell back revealing a hole the size of a dime missing from the summit of her left ear. “Such a beauty,” he said, proudly looking at the irreparable cartilage.

  They had done so much damage to each other over the years.

  Suddenly, Kronos released his grip and dodged to his left. Lana—pulse accelerated due to a viciously spinning axe en route for her head—barely had time to drop down. Her palms scraped against the hard concrete as a red throwing axe shattered the truck’s window behind her.

  “Lana?” a voice uttered with worry.

  “Cole, I’m fine,” Lana said. But let her friend of five years help her to her feet anyway. She knew it would make him feel better. Having to split up to inspect their vicinity, the Shadows had been together hunting Kronos, the most heinous and villainous Vampire, when they lost track of him in the Nebraskan woods. Cole loathed himself for agreeing to her idea to separate.

  “Kronos—”

  “We’ll never catch him,” Cole interjected, grabbing her arm to a halt.

  With the man’s cadaver over his shoulder further down the way, Kronos leaped over the seven foot cemetery wall—intended for guarding the dead—and disappeared into the dark, spine-chilling woods.

  “At least he didn’t leave the body this time,” Cole said happily as he reached through the busted window to retrieve his axe, shunning shards of glass on an ugly brown seat. “I still haven’t forgotten about last time. Having to dispose of the disgusting mess he purposely left.”

  “Yeah…” Lana agreed, exhaling the cool night air. But she wasn’t so sure. Why was Kronos waiting for her? There was something different about the way he carried the man’s body but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “Thanks,” she replied graciously, nodding at the axe he threw at Kronos.

  “No problem.”

  The Shadow peered down at her palms to see what had become of her scrapping them against the pavement. No cuts. No bruising. Nothing. She was fine just as she expected. But Lana couldn’t shake the unpleasant feeling in her gut. The feeling that hell was coming.

  PART ONE

  THE NEXT DAY

  2: First Encounters

  IWAS BEHIND schedule and feeling inexcusable for hitting the snooze button four times. I glimpsed at my cheap watch, my feet moving swiftly on the sidewalk. The time read 12:10 pm.

  Today was sunny and balmy in the city of Hastings, Nebraska. Spring zeal dominated an enduring atmosphere on this intoxicating tenth day of May. Paper and plastic “On Sale” signs roughly publicized on every front of the towering shops. But I didn’t care what they were advertising. Now was not browsing time, and onslaughts of dawdling people were threatening a rushed man’s patience.

  Noticing an immense silver banner about Mother’s Day across the way, swaying with poise to the will of a zephyr, now upset me; prompting me into full speed. Mother’s Day is one of my least favorite holidays.

  Turning at the corner of a brick building, I unexpectedly collided with a young woman. My chest and shoulders knocked her back, rattling the books she carried and they plummeted to the sidewalk. Of course, the fresh, warm cup of coffee in her hand splashed down the front of my nicely-fitting denim jeans and polo shirt that exposed my burly arms. “My favorite shirt!” I wailed.

  Before my brain could register the incident that just happened, the awe-inspiring beauty immediately took her white napkins, only things remaining in her startled hands, and started rubbing the bottom of my green polo shirt.

  “Oh my god! Oh my god!” the girl repeated over and over.

  My hands had been thrown up in the air, first out of shock from the warmth of the caffeinated beverage, but now I was thunderstruck by this brunette. “Whoa, whoa, uh…” I gave her a peculiar look—I could feel it all over my face. An unusual feeling tugged at me…

  The curly-headed brunette, I guessed to be barely older than me, continued cleaning the mess; moving on to my denims, practically on top of my penis, not noticing the expression on my face. How was I supposed to make her stop? I wasn’t entirely sure if that was even really what I wanted.

  Bending down to get her hardbacks, I could feel the sunlight reflecting off my short, blonde hair. My plan was to get this fine young woman moving as far away from me as possible. The number one priority had to be getting to the restaurant Rolling Acres to meet my cousin Leon.

  Two volumes have been mounded up by the time she joined in to help. I came to the unsettling realization that both of us had reached for the last book, Mozart; instantly interrupting my concentration. We looked at each other. Our eye color was the same; hazel. But a look is only a second. Enough time was passing to be classified as riveting.

  The woman didn’t know what to say. Her eyes told me she just as stunned as I was. Before she could form a sentence I quickly shoved the three books about Beethoven, Bach, and Mozart into her arms. “Maybe you could learn to watch where you’re going, princess,” I coldly suggested as I passed.

  With eyes narrowing in anger, she clenched her books. There is no way she was about to accept such a repugnant attitude. “Excuse me!” she screamed.

  Oh crap!

  Several passers-by on the sidewalk, upon hearing the affray, clenched their bags of purchased merchandise and ceased their conversations to cast chary stares.

  My pace accelerated. Getting to the restaurant was imperative. But something else was going on here and I wasn’t sticking around to find out.

  The woman vehemently caught up, planting her feet in front of me blocking my path. “What’s your name?”

  “Lucas Kale,” I answered, flashing her a smile.

  “Tell me, Lucas, who gave you the right to talk to people that way?”

  “Not people. Just you,” I chimed, gently placing my hands on her shoulders and impelling the furious girl out of my way.

  “Jerk.”

  Ouch! That actually hurt but I flashed a smirk over my shoulder anyway as I continued through the tapering crowd, leaving the attractive woman.

  Wow. I really liked that shirt, I admitted, thinking about her tight-fitting, icy blue top that had the name of my favorite rock band. AC/DC. And then I remembered my own shirt. My favorite shirt. Hoping it wasn’t ruined, I looked down to examine the damage. Salvageable. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then I noticed a damp outline near my penis creating the illusion that I urinated on myself. But it wasn’t on my Give-A-Damn list.

  ✽✽✽

  “You had a girl practically all over you and you didn’t get her number?” my cousin chuckled at the story about the girl spilling her coffee, causing a few strands of his brown hair to fall around his round face. He stopped suddenly, his eyes narrowing. “That’s not your usual behavior, Luke. What is wrong with you?”

  “Me? HER! There’s something wrong with her,” I childishly remarked, surveying our surroundings inside of the restaurant Rolling Acres. The vale that an artist had once skillfully painted covers the entire wall behind my cousin. Splurges of deep blue and green paint throw open, shady hills, and dark but comforting heavens into my eyes. I thought of home back in Tennessee.

  “She can’t be older than nineteen. About the same age as the girl you turned down,” he nodded at the waitress at the bar. “If something doesn’t happen here, I’m taking you to the doctor.”

  “How can you tell her age?”

  “Judging by her mature features and fresh-zest-of-freedom-from-parents attitude—”

  “No one says mature features, Leon,” I said, picking at him. I took a sip of his water without asking.

  “I do,” he reminded me right as the waitress came to take my order. Leon had went ahead and ordered a house salad and water before my arrival; half of both still remained in their dishes.

  The waitress quickly observed the coffee stains and smiled. “What can I do to you?”

  I raised my eyebrows, trying to decide if she intent
ionally meant to ask the provocative question. Leon, however, rolled his sapphire blue eyes (that allures most females) and chose to finish his drink through what was for him a banal and predictable conversation. The ruddy-headed waitress had probably been overly nice to Leon. But my cousin knew that once the “chick magnet” arrived his existence would ebb. Chick magnet was his term for me.

  The red head cleared her throat, still jovial. “I mean, what can I get you?”

  “You’re cheapest beer will do.” I flashed her my flirtatious smile. “For now.”

  Leon held up his empty glass. “I could use—” instead of paying attention to her customer, the server walked away from our small table “—some WATER,” he finished while glaring across the table.

  “What?” I asked, pretending to act innocent.

  “She was nice until you came.”

  “Yeah, well, she smells like cigarettes. You hate that.”

  “True.”

  “Her cup size is decent but she hasn’t blossomed as much as the mystery lady I just encountered.”

  “Interesting. You don’t usually compare size. Anything goes. Do you have a crush on this coffee girl?” he teased.

  Suddenly I remembered why we were meeting at this particular eating place. My eyes frantically searched the jade green bar. “A fellow’s butt crack on a barstool. Not what I had in mind. Leon, where’s the blonde?”

  “She’s not here.”

  “Okay… That’s not normal.”

  “You know my visions have never been wrong. The ones that tell me whom to save from the evil and perilous creatures—Vampires,” he said solemnly, reminding me of his infallible visions, as if I needed a reminder. The ginger girl was slinking back. “I didn’t know I could be wrong,” he whispered.