Eaten, Inside Out

An attack on a Daybreaker agent leaves his soulmate in despair. No weapon, no apparent reason to why he is suddenly dying. It all started with a deal that went wrong, and now they have to get the antidote before the rest of the male population of Circle Daybreak is struck down.

The perfect weapon is an invisible one. The perfect plan is Eaten, Inside Out. With Daybreaker males dying, their soulmates have nothing to live for. And its so easy to be driven to the edge…

Presenting: Eaten, Inside Out. If you can guess the message in the title then you're smart. But I'm not revealing anything. winks This is a Night World story. It takes place after Witchlight I suppose but it's not about the fourth Wild Power.

Dedicated to all the people that have me on their 'favourite authors' list, (thank you so much)!

And don't worry; no matter how upsetting this plot seems to be there is NO character death. I love my dear soulmates too much. hugs Quinn, Ash and Morgead tightly So, enjoy this. This is a new plot approach for me and I hope it goes well.

All the characters (except Were) belong to L. J. Smith. If there are any extras I'll let you know along the way. Now, let's roll tape…

Chapter One
The Invisible Weapon

"Subject is heading west." Came the crackle of a deep voice emanating from the boy's walkie-talkie – which was, at that instant, strapped snugly to his hip. Black on black, practically hidden whilst camouflaged against his tight black jeans.
The boy groaned, swung the radio out of its holster and held it up close to his mouth.

"The docks?" he whined into it, starting at a slow pace down the alleyway on his left. Downtown smelt like rotting garbage and dead bodies. Not really surprising as he passed the skips and dumpsters lined up outside the backdoors of the supposedly 'abandoned' buildings. Everybody knew that the homeless crawled inside those things like rats – dealing with drugs… getting drunk… possibly dying. Who knows? Not that Quinn cared.

"Yep, looks like it. Be careful, Quinn – sources told us that this guy's got a gun." Quinn snorted and held the radio even tighter to his mouth. He was running now, his black hair brushing past his face and contaminating his view of the world. His eyes were the darkest they'd been in a while now. He knew what he had to do. He had to get this job over with. Wipe the slate clean.

"I don't care if he's got a gun, Were." He snapped back sourly. Note: 'Were' is pronounced like where, as in werewolf "And what 'sources' anyway?"

Were sighed, and moved the radio to his other ear – much to Quinn's distaste because there was the sharp ringing of white noise and many crackling sounds in the background.
"We've been tailing him." Was all he said.
Quinn stopped, mid sprint. When Were said 'we' it didn't necessarily mean he'd been doing it himself. Quite the opposite in fact.

Quinn clenched the radio tightly. "Tell me she didn't," he moaned. "Tell me, Were." There was no reply, just an embarrassed silence.
Frustrated and angry, Quinn kicked an empty beer bottle and watched it clatter across the alleyway, knocking against the cobbles. "Damn!" he cried, stamping his foot.

"I didn't know, Quinn, not until her stuff had done. But the orders came from higher up. I think she arranged it with Lady Hannah–"

"I don't care, Were, I want her out – understand?" Quinn snapped. "I told you – this is our mission, no one else's. I don't want her dragged into this."
Quinn started running again, but not to stop their target – to get to his soulmate before she did anything stupid.

"Rashel's a tough girl, Quinn. She can handle herself." Were suddenly grew serious, Quinn could almost imagine his eyes narrow. "Anyway, about the gun…"

"I got more important things to worry about than a stupid gun. Cancel Rashel's radio link – now. I'm on my way to the docks."

"Quinn…" Were warned, but he was speaking to air. Quinn cut off on him and swung the walkie-talkie back to his side.

"I hate it when she does this," Quinn said through gritted teeth.

Rashel held up four fingers, her expression purely set on business. "Four. And four only. Take it or leave it." She said tartly, withdrawing her hand to fold her arms. The guy opposite was getting peeved; he was scratching his neck in decision. He wasn't bad looking for a werewolf. He had dark hair and golden eyes – unusual, but attractive nonetheless. Which had no effect on Rashel.

She wiggled the ring on her left hand and tried hard to keep a smile from her face.
No, he didn't have any effect on Rashel…
The boy was about nineteen, clad in a suave brown shirt and jeans. He had a cuff on his left ear and an eyebrow piercing. A real bad boy.

"Come on, sweetheart." He finally managed to say, showing all his teeth as he grinned. "Don't you realise what I have in this case?"
Rashel's eyes flickered to the 'wolf's briefcase resting on the ground. Too late. He leaned forward, trying to wrap his spindly arms around her, trying to coil around her and crush her – just like a snake.
"We could have some fun with all that money of yours. I'll take the four thousand – but only if you come with it."

Rashel shivered. It was now or never. Slowly, she pulled the shotgun out from within her long leather jacket and grinned savagely. Her hunting days were over – but like riding a bike, you never forget.
"Don't you realise what I have in this gun?" She repeated his corny line with a twist of her own. Rashel smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
She hated herself. She was a Daybreaker, and yet she was still threatening to kill – which went against all of Circle Daybreak's rules.

"I like to carry silver bullets around. Just in case." She tried to make her voice even, but she was trembling and she couldn't help herself. Thankfully, the 'wolf didn't notice. His eyes were open wide – his mouth gaping. He couldn't find any words to say. Of course he'd let her go immediately and was now plastered against one of the wooden posts lining the dock.

"So, sweetheart – it's your choice. You give me the case and take the four thousand, or you run away and get a hole in your head the size of a bowling ball. Either way, I win."

"Daybreaker scum!" the werewolf snapped.
Rashel frowned and raised the shotgun, aiming it at his forehead. "I'm being serious, little pup." She passed him a briefcase of her own – with the money inside – and waved it around in front of him. "Take it," she teased.

"You think I'd betray Hunter so easily? All that money isn't worth what's in this case!" he declared.
Rashel's eyes narrowed. "What about your life? Is it worth blabbing for that?" she loaded the shotgun, listening to the barrel clicking as the bullet locked into place.
The 'wolf started shaking, beads of sweat tumbling down his forehead.

"I'm warning you," he panicked, leaning back. "You can't kill me – Hunter will track you down." Then he reverted to a different approach. "I'm not telling you anything!" he cried.

"I didn't ask you to tell me anything, I asked you to give me your case." Rashel smiled. "And I'll give you this money and let you live. So how about it?"

The 'wolf was about to gibber a response when his pupils widened hungrily – spotting something over Rashel's shoulder. He froze up for an instant, his face going white. Then he grinned and looked Rashel in the eye. "Sayonara," he whispered insanely.

"What?" Rashel snarled, tensing up in fear. The 'wolf dug a hand into his pocket, retrieved something and threw it. It sailed over Rashel's shoulder as she ducked out of the way.

"Ha, missed!" Rashel grinned on the floor, then she narrowed her eyes and tossed her silky hair back. "Now, no more funny business." She began to stand up, eyes dark.

The 'wolf's hair was shadowing his forehead, his eyes invisible. He started laughing as he slowly raised his head. "I missed?" he smiled, cocking his head on one side. Rashel wondered for an instant whether the 'wolf was entirely sane. "I never miss,"

Something thudded on the floor a few yards behind Rashel. "Game over," the 'wolf whispered. He flung his case at Rashel, grabbed hers and ran for cover. Rashel, confused, spun in a full circle. The werewolf was out of sight before she could get a decent shot. Cursing, she flung her shotgun down on the floor.

At least he hadn't used his gun… Rashel realised. And then… Wait. Something's not right here. What had he hit?
Rashel's breath caught in her throat. She turned very, very slowly. There, on the ground, was a figure dressed from head to toe in black – even his hair was black. And Rashel knew, instinctively, that his eyes were too.

The silence that followed was smothering. All Rashel could hear was the lapping of the waves beneath the pier – the creaking of boats as they floated on the surface of the water. She could hardly hear her heartbeat.
Is he… dead?

"… Q-Quinn?" she called timidly, feeling six-years-old again.
She dropped the 'wolf's briefcase on the floor, bending down with it. When she was so near to the ground she decided she didn't have the strength to walk, and she started to crawl towards him.

Quinn was spread-eagled on the dirty cobbles, his dark hair flying wildly around him. His eyes were shut and his mouth was a straight line. His lips were blue – they were quivering slightly.

"Quinn?" Rashel wheezed, tears streaming down her face. She lifted up his head and put it on her lap, brushing his forehead tenderly.
If he's dead…Rashel began thinking.
She felt a moan escape her throat and then she distantly realised that she was sobbing.
"Everything's going to be fine," she whispered, bending down and kissing his forehead – kissing his entire face.

"Wake up," she pleaded, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
Quinn didn't move – his face was going pale.
That thing… what was that thing the 'wolf threw? A dart? Rashel looked up and down Quinn's body. Nothing. No stake… no dart… no knife.

"Come on, kid," she teased. "You're a vampire – you're tough, you'll pull through." Her voice was edgy. What the hell did that guy do to him?
"Quinn?" she nudged her soulmate. Part of her felt like she was dying, just shutting down and giving up. Quinn's soul was her own. They were soulmates – destined to be together forever. She couldn't live if he didn't.
But I won't give up… I'll never give up on him.

"Quinn!" she screamed, tearing the name right from her heart. Her eyes were stinging with the tears that were flowing and the tears that wouldn't come. Her body was aching with every sob that escaped.
"Please… please… please… please…" she kept repeating, voice below a whisper. It was inaudible but she knew she was saying it – she could imagine herself crying it aloud. Don't let him be dead…

"Quinn? Come in, Quinn. Quinn, are you there?" his walkie-talkie was buzzing in its holster, the person on the other end practically yelling. "Quinn?"

Rashel snatched it up, fingers wobbling. She nearly dropped it in her relief. "Were?" she cried, wiping a few tears away. "Were, it's me – Rashel."

"Rashel? Rashel, are you okay? What happened? You're radio link isn't working, how did you-?"

"Were, it's Quinn. I'm using his link, just please, please send a medic team. I think… I think he's dying." She stammered, holding the radio close. She was snivelling and crying and only Quinn was allowed to see her cry, but she didn't care.

"I think… I think…" she kept saying, over and over, trying to come to terms with it.
"Okay, okay. Rashel, calm down, it'll be fine."

"How can it be? He's so cold… so cold." Rashel's bottom lip was wobbling fervently. It was impossible to shut her eyes and create a dam for all the tears she had for her dying soulmate.

"We have medics on the way. Was it our guy? Did he do this to him? Was it a gun? Rashel, tell me." Were was reasoning, voice soft. But he couldn't hide the terror in his voice. The worry. The pain. The suffering.

"No, no, no. The guy didn't get out his gun, but it was him that did this. I was there. If only I'd known Quinn was behind me, I could've…"
"Rashel, speak slower. Okay, so what did he do?"
"He… he got something out of his pocket and threw it at Quinn."

"A dart?"
"No, it was too small for a dart. I didn't see it. There's no weapon around me, nothing in Quinn. I don't know what it could have been."

"Rashel, don't worry. Quinn'll be fine."
"Yes. Fine… he'll be fine." Rashel nodded.
If there's no weapon, then Quinn can't be dead. He'll wake up and laugh and tell me I was worrying for nothing. Oh Goddess, please let it be that.

A stretch limousine rounded the corner, gleaming white like a knight and his horse come to save the day. But the picture was sabotaged by how fast it was going. It revved into the dock at about seventy miles per hour, sliding along the cobbles before finally stopping by the old fish market, a few feet away from Rashel and Quinn.

It was no surprise as to who ran out. Nissa jumped out of the drivers seat – the wildest driver Circle Daybreak had. Her mink coloured hair was jumping around as she ran over to the two, fumbling behind her – hand jammed into a backpack. The others hopped out too.

Iliana – the third Wild Power, with the power to heal and destroy all in one electric blue light. Winnie – able to bandage and heal, not as powerful as she'd like to be, but there to help and be supportive. And lastly Keller and Galen, another soulmate pair – flustered and terrified as they wondered what it would be like if it was them in this situation, knowing there was nothing they could do about it.

"Just hang in there, Rashel!" Winnie called, sprinting over and dropping down beside the girl with oily black hair and sea-green eyes.
Winnie started fussing over Quinn, checking his pulse.
"Rashel, Quinn's breathing. And he still has a pulse. You don't have to worry. Everything's going to be fine." She started rubbing her arm, smiling.
Rashel tried her best to smile back but she was wracked with guilt. If she had acted sooner…

Iliana was reaching for a knife in her pocket, ready to cut her finger so she could use the blue fire. Nissa was barking orders at Winnie, telling her to do something quick. Galen was standing a way off, surveying the situation and obviously panicking – not knowing what to do.

Keller. Where's Keller?
Rashel looked up and her eyes met ones the colour of the sky. Grey. Hair the same colour as her own was blowing beautifully about the shapeshifter's human features.

Keller and Rashel had met three months ago and had been good friends ever since. They were the same. Burnt out hunters, discovering life with their soulmates. They'd had a laugh, the two of them.

Rashel thought highly of Keller. If she had to have a best friend, it would have been her.
"Hey girl." Keller smiled. "It'll be fine."
Rashel was about to open her mouth to say a lot of people had already told her that, but a ripple of blue smoke was emanating from Iliana's palms. Iliana was staring intently at Quinn, whispering some sort of chant about Hellewise.

Then she screamed, flung her arms open and a swirl of energy blasted into Quinn, digging him into the floor.

His body jerked upright, his hair fell back. His arms spread further along the ground and a spasm erupted up his right leg, but his eyes didn't open. He didn't move – just flopped back against the ground as the energy left and returned back into Iliana.

Everyone gasped in confusion.
There were tears in Iliana's eyes. "I… I don't understand it." She whispered. "Rashel, I-… I'm so sorry."

"You couldn't do it!" Rashel's bottom lip quivered. If a Wild Power couldn't save him… She screamed for all she was worth and leapt up off of the ground. "You're a fake!" She growled… then stopped, leaving the insult hanging in the air. Then, lowering her gaze, the world started to spin. She fainted.

Chapter one, done! Want to know what happens to your precious Quinn? hugs him tightly and grins evilly, then gets dropkicked by Rashel and starts screaming

Uhm… well, uhm… find out, uh, soon. I want reviews! grabs your PC screen and laughs insanely Reviews! Ha ha! You won't know what happens next unless you say something. That's what we all want. And what I want right now for that matter. And you want the next chapter, don't ya? Please comment. Please.

I'm going to start doing funny things at the end of these chapters to let you know that this story won't be nearly so sad as it seems. If you like these funny things then please say so, otherwise I won't do them. Warning, I am not particularly witty and these will probably be more stupid than funny… With that said and done, let's go to the adverts.

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One soulmate couple – to a good home. One burnt out vampire hunter and a burnt out Night Person. The male has a prolonged fear of wood and both have a natural dislike of Hunter Redfern. Feeding is unnecessary for the vampire unless your local store sells vials of blood.
Contact your nearest Daybreak Kennel for more details.
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