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  DHAMPIR

  Avalon, Book One

  J.H. Hutchins

  Contents

  Introduction

  Acknowledgments

  1. The Golden Egg

  2. The Enterprise

  3. The Passenger

  4. The City of Tents

  5. The Introduction

  6. The Death’s Dawn

  7. The Delivery

  8. The Elation

  9. The Birthday

  10. The Bull

  11. The Facade

  12. The Plan

  13. The Hunt

  14. The Timberwolves

  15. The Struggle

  16. The Bus

  17. The Mall

  18. The Parlor

  19. The Fountain

  20. The Movie

  21. The Reading

  22. The Church

  23. The Arcade

  24. The Date

  25. The Bite

  26. The Split

  27. The Intermission

  28. The Assassination

  29. The Freeze

  30. The Abuse

  31. The Finale

  Glory (Avalon #2)

  About the Author

  Author Notes

  Leave A Review

  I Love You!

  Dhampir is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system - except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper - without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Copyright © 2018 by J.H. Hutchins

  All rights reserved.

  Cover art created by Lou Harper.

  Dhampir

  Avalon, Book One

  She was thunder — a sonic shock wave that could be heard throughout all realms.

  He was lightning — a discharge of pain too impossible to ignore.

  Together, Mallory Vice and Jayce Fletcher were a Gothic storm. Apart, their past would consume their souls.

  Jayce was feeling weak and alone. Filled with rage. A victim of tragedy. This beacon of light wouldn't sleep until he cast out his pain, and became a wizard.

  Mallory was running away from home. A mother who never cared. A father never there. An Ex who always dared, to cross the line no matter who was aware.

  Revisit Valentine's Day in a Gothic way. This gritty fairy tale promises twists, turns, and lots of Sperns — all engineered by a cast of tragic characters. Strike the skies with a flurry of hate, or heal the world with the power of love. The choice is yours.

  To the dreamers who chase the incredible . . .

  Acknowledgments

  Special Thanks

  Thank you, Michael Anderle & Steve Campbell.

  Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Stiegler.

  Thank you, Justin Horshaw.

  Thank you, readers!

  1

  The Golden Egg

  Gothic Realm — Riversong, Galicia

  Natas had finally arrived. After trudging all the way down to the most southern point of the island, he and his army invaded the village of Riversong. The fifteen-foot demon king burst through the village's gates with both his statuesque figure and marble throne intact. Within his arms was something wrapped in a blanket. He made sure to hold it carefully, like a football player that refused to fumble on the game-winning play.

  Guards dropped their weapons. Villagers hid their children. Nobody dared to face the figure who claimed to be King of the Realm — the being who never let another man live who said otherwise.

  "Where are they?" he asked a villager shaking beneath him in the snow. He had been sliced at the hip by one of Natas' minions. Even in his pain, and the puddle of blood beneath him, the villager knew to drop his head into the snow and answer Natas in the most honest way he could muster.

  "I-I don't know."

  Snap!

  Wrong answer. Natas stomped his gargoyle foot on the man's back, sinking him deep into the snow. After surveying the area, he found a town hall that looked like a great place to set up his temporary domain.

  "Find the Elders," Natas ordered. "Tell them the true King is here."

  After unhinging the gigantic throne he held by a strong rope tied around his figure, Natas sat cheek-to-fist in boredom — the mystery object hiding within the blanket left on his lap. Sobbing villagers, loyal war cries, and the silent protests of the innocent bored him to bits. None of them were powerful. He snapped his fingers, ordering a minion to bring him his "list." Each of the thirteen items had a cross through them. It brought a smile to his face knowing how much anguish and terror he brought to those deemed "the most powerful" among Gothic Realm lore.

  "Your Highness," a minion bowed before Natas in Riversong's largest building. "As you requested — the Elders." He stood to move off the black carpet that had been rolled out just for Natas. Five women and four men were forced to come forward. Despite their raggedy clothes, the diverse cast of wise ones was only a bath away from beautiful.

  "The Elders of Galicia," Natas smirked. "Do you know why I'm here?"

  "You've come for The Death's Dawn," a blonde Elder answered.

  "Where is it?"

  The blonde woman looked back to the others. They seemed nervous.

  "Where is it?" Natas asked a second time. They knew there wouldn't be a third without the loss of life, so the blonde Elder spun back around.

  "The Human World," she shot back. Among his minions' gasps, Natas was quite calm. He only stroked the blanket and shook his head.

  "You would've been better off lying," the demon king grinned.

  "A wise Spern knows that the truth will set you free," the blonde responded. "But you were born from Hellfire, so you'd know nothing about that." Natas's minions dropped their jaws and turned to their leader. He stopped his stroking of whatever was bundled in the blanket. His grin was replaced with a blank stare.

  "Why else am I here?" he asked the brave Elder. It only took a glare into the eyes of the devil for her to find her answer.

  "You've come to use our influence to build an army of Lycans."

  "For what?"

  "To conquer the Realm."

  "Smart," said Natas. "You Elders truly are something."

  "You're not so weak yourself," said the blonde. "But you're stubborn."

  Natas wasn't happy. He was tired of her insulting attitude. When they saw him squeeze one of his fists, the minions shook and many of the other Elders whispered for their brave speaker to stop.

  "Killing you would be a waste," Natas admitted. "Instead, I'll be giving you old-timers a job." One of the Elders behind the blonde forgot the intensity of the situation and made the mistake of speaking up.

  "But, our job is to protect the Realm and—”

  "YOUR JOB IS TO DO WHAT THE KING TELLS YOU TO!" Natas shouted. His voice rumbled the room, shaking everybody into silence. The Elders were dying to swear on their souls that he had lost his crown when he was banished from Avalon, but they couldn't speak. Plus, when did supernatural beings outside of the Dome answer to a leader from within that vampire-infested dystopia?

  "Now," Natas continued, "here's your job. You and I will draft a set of laws that the Realm will forever follow. If the Throne of Galicia refuses to abide by them, I will crumble their castles. If the Lycans refuse to follow, I will strip away their freedom. And if the Shifters of Terra refuse, then I will bury them in their playground."

  "An
d the vampires of Avalon?" asked the blonde. A smirk crossed Natas's face.

  "I will have the Godfather crush the Dome." Gasps echoed across the enormous dining hall.

  "Y-Your Highness," gulped one of Natas's minions. "The Pixie Godfather -- he's here!" Among more jaws being dropped and gasps being had, a fat man in a red and black devil costume whizzed in like a hungry robin. He was the size of a robin too, not much taller than a stick of deodorant. He sat on the shoulder of Natas, asserting his dominance among everybody in the room, besides his king. For Natas, he bowed, pounding his tiny pitchfork down on his ruler's shoulder.

  "Your Majesty, I—”

  "Spit it out, Vermillion."

  "As you may remember, you asked me to keep watch over your daughter. I served your request to the best of my abilities, but—”

  "Where is she?" Natas interrupted.

  "The Human World," Vermillion said to gasps. "She — along with her sister and that cursed cloak — persuaded the Godmother and a group of delinquents to help her run away! She refuses to marry La Croix!" The Pixie Godfather believed the demon king was pissed. Vermillion shook upon the shoulders of Natas, twirling his pitchfork nervously. He made it look like a baton.

  "She finally got away from that monster?"

  "Y-Yes—”

  "Good for her," Natas smiled. "I don't know a single soul in Avalon who has the heart to do something that brave."

  "But—” Vermillion continued, "that's not it, sir."

  "Where's the boy?"

  "He's not a boy, sir—”

  "Vermillion!"

  The pixie gulped.

  "He's under the Dome still, sir. But he won't be by the time I can finish a sentence!" Gasps from Natas's minions announced Vermillion's mistake. Natas blew it off and let the pixie continue. "He's talked the Governor into forcing Kassandra to make a portal for him, too."

  "Why can't he just leave her alone?" Natas sighed.

  "Simple," Vermillion continued, "he's scared she'll perform a Binding with a human boy." Before more gasps could come, Vermillion rose his pitchfork to silence the minions. He wasn't finished. "The Realm will lose all hopes of balance with the welcoming of a Dhampir."

  "I agree," said Natas. "But why?"

  "The princess is tired of being lonely, Your Majesty. I have cured the deepest wounds the Realm has to offer, but I couldn't find a solution to this disease, in particular. No amount of foreign books, movies, nor summons was enough to fill the void of real interaction."

  "I assume there's more?" Natas sulked.

  "Yes," the Pixie Godfather gulped. "The princess, under the request of our wretched Mother, took The Book with her!" The hall burst into an uproar. Even the Elders looked at each other for support. Natas continued petting the blanket on his lap.

  "The book?"

  The pixie gripped his pitchfork tighter. "The Book of Souls, sir. I believe she snatched it right from your chambers." More gasps filled the hall. Natas pounded his throne, nearly chipping its side.

  "Why would she do something so stupid!"

  "She wants your attention," Vermillion guessed. "You know, she wouldn't have these problems if you'd sent a few letters after we left."

  Natas rose his sunken head to glare at the Elders. "The Human World, huh? Ironic."

  "The Fairy Godmother gave us no choice," the blonde Elder admitted. "She told us about your desire to corrupt the Realm. We didn't believe her at first — but now that you're here, there's no denying it. We forbid you and your minions from finishing The Book of Souls. You are a Gothic plague." Natas studied the list of thirteen crossed-out items again. The words of the Elder, along with The Death's Dawn being the final item without a strike through it, caused him to shake the tiny scroll in fury.

  Natas grabbed the blanket and stood from his throne, causing his minions to take a knee. Vermillion fluttered beside his ruler, making sure to keep clear in the event of a swat.

  "We will write The Natas Scrolls," he swore. "If anybody, including that coward, Geovanni, decides to disobey the laws written within these Scrolls, then I will destroy them. Defile them. Kill them."

  "Avalon had nothing to do with this," the blonde Elder spoke up once again. "The Governor only knew of your desires because Kassandra requested that we send him a letter explaining the ordeal. You lost your power, Natas. Nobody else is to blame."

  "My desires have changed," he glared at the blonde. He then set his eyes on the egg in his lap.

  "Only because it looks like your daughter will be the one to open the Blood Chamber," she shot back. "And your new plan to rule over the Realm doesn't convince me that you won't return to your last. Neither are good for the Realm. You are a ruthless dictator." Natas smirked at the truth.

  "Vermillion."

  "Your Majesty?"

  "Spawn a portal to the Human World."

  "Why?"

  Vermillion barely dodged Natas slapping his own shoulder.

  "Because I said so, you fool! What kind of King — let alone father — would sit back and let this commence without so much as a visit?" Natas continued as Vermillion snuck back to his shoulder. "I will retrieve my Book, finish its quest, and protect my daughter — all in one stroke."

  "Your Majesty, we cannot go to the Human World. The Governor wants that. These Elders want that. If you leave, think of all the chaos that will ensue: our army could be flanked by Lycans loyal to the Elders — you could be locked out of the Realm for eternity if Kassandra is given the order. We would be doomed." The Pixie Godfather took a deep breath. "I have fallen in defeat to the power of your daughter's loneliness, but I will not fail again. I will solve each and every one of these problems — even if it means turning the Human World inside-out."

  "No more discussions," Natas ordered. "Bring them to me at once. The Book, too."

  "Does it matter if they're dead? Or would you like them alive?"

  "I don't care about anybody but my daughters. I want them alive."

  "May I punish Mallory for her actions?"

  "No."

  "But, as her caretaker—”

  "Only a father knows how to straighten out his daughter."

  Natas looked too serious for Vermillion to counter.

  "As you command," the Godfather swore, with a fluttering bow to Natas. There was an awkward silence after the bow. It caused the pixie to look around as Natas stared at him.

  "Well!?" Natas snarled. "Go!"

  "Y-Yes, Your Majesty. But . . . I can't."

  "You're the Pixie Godfather! You can do whatever you put your mind to!"

  "I-I," Vermillion gulped, "I have no Prana. The portal I made to get here took it all, Your Majesty." Natas dropped his shoulders and sighed. Now, it made sense. In their own travel from Avalon to Riversong, Natas lost not just an immense amount of time, but also an immense amount of men. Not even the Pixie Godfather and his mastery of Gothic magic could live to tell the tale of traveling to Riversong alone. So, he teleported.

  Vermillion tried to stumble a few more words from his mouth, but they were swatted — along with himself — by the sturdy fist of Natas. The pixie's yell — from the inside of the hall, crashing through a wall of strong bark, and then into the Galician snow — could be heard from afar. Natas then set his eyes on the Elders.

  "Go gather what you need to write The Scrolls. You'll be living in my hall until they're done." The Elders looked around at each other. How dare he use the village's sacred Hall of Fame as his ordering grounds? Riversong's greatest Wolves were buried in the dirt beneath the throne Natas sat upon!

  "Not you," said Natas, referring to the blonde Elder. "You've insulted me in front of my strongest advisor, my minions, and even my only son." He looked down at the blanket. "You won't be writing for a while after I'm done with you."

  The Elders' protests snowballed into cries as they were forced out of the hall without their blonde councilmember. Natas smiled and took a seat. The blonde Elder's cries sang out as his minions cracked her with whips and the flat ends of
their blades. He uncovered the blanket on his lap so that the object could breathe a bit. An egg that shined in the brightest gold sat before the demon king. The strong beam of light that struck Natas put a greater smile on his face.

  The demon king would have his first son, soon enough.

  2

  The Enterprise

  Gatsby, Pennsylvania (Midtown) — February, 10th 2018

  Mallory — Daughter of Natas, Princess of Avalon, the Rightful Heir to the Gothic Realm — was foraging a public trash can for leftover food in the Human World. Nina, Malik, and Jett accompanied her, bringing even more shame to the Realm to which they all belonged.

  “Why do they throw away so much food!?” Mallory asked her companions. She was chomping on an unfinished granola bar — just a small taste of the food she collected in the haggard KFC bucket in her arms. Her foraging adventure would remind one of a Halloween night.

  “They’re wasteful,” said Nina.

  “Duh, but why?”

  “They waste,” Jett grinned. “We gain.”

  “It’s probably disrespectful to finish your meal,” Malik assumed. “Why don’t you ask Brenden and that fat lady? Aren’t they half-human or something?”