Elizabeth Peterson is an average teenage girl who keeps to herself, loves her parents, and never gets noticed. But this year, everything will change.When Liz meets Marcus, a quiet newcomer to her small town, she’s immediately drawn to him. She soon learns that he has a dark secret - he’s a dangerous and bloodthirsty vampire. The only problem is that she’s now completely in love with him.Liz keeps what she learns about Marcus secret, and as her relationship with him develops, she discovers hidden truths about her own identity. Slowly, it becomes clear to her why she was so drawn to Marcus in the first place. But just as she’s beginning to understand everything, a sinister woman from Marcus’s past threatens to destroy them both.As everything that Liz knows as truth is crushed, and with her one love ripped away, she’s left sobbing at the river’s edge wondering how far she will go to get revenge. Now, she must meet her destiny as she blindly steps into the world of vampires to save Marcus in Fatal Elements.

FATAL ELEMENTS

Book 1: LizBy Kayla Taylor

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2009 Kayla Taylor
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4401-8495-6

Chapter One

I blinked once, twice, three times, trying desperately to focus my eyes in the dark room. The baby was restless, moving around under my tightly stretched skin. I sat up slowly, holding my belly. This was my only chance. I knew that I mustn't be heard. I had to move with utmost stealth if I expected to make it out of here safely. I could not bear to think of what would happen if I were caught. I moved slowly out of the makeshift bed of tattered quilts and towels piled on the stone floor. I hoped desperately that this would be the last time my bare swollen feet would cross this cold hard floor as I crept toward the entrance.

The dark figure crouched in the corner sent long cold shivers up my spine and almost made me turn back. Of all my captors, it had to be him. I held my breath and slowly tiptoed past him, waiting for the moment his cold hand would grip onto my leg. Thankfully, he didn't move, and I was outside the door.

It seemed darker here in these long halls. I didn't know if it was just my mind playing tricks on me or if I had taken a wrong turn and ended up deeper in this massive stone cellar. Blindly, I reached out for the staircase. I caught the first step with the tip of my middle finger. Before I could breathe in the deep sigh of relief from finding the staircase, a searing pain tore across my insides. I wanted to scream, but I knew that I had to run. I was taking the stairs two at a time, each step releasing another stab of unbearable pain into my side. I could see the dim light ahead and pushed harder.

A cold breeze like morning mist followed me up the staircase and began crawling around my ankles. He was near. I could feel him closing in on me. I felt the sun on the tips of my fingers and knew it was too late. I watched the sun fade from view as his cold arms pulled me back down the staircase.

Forgetting the pain in my stomach, I kicked and struggled against his cold hands, reaching for the walls, trying to grab hold of something, anything, but the walls were bare. I felt the small sharp sting of my fingernails snapping as I was pulled back down into the darkness. I knew there was no use fighting him: he was too strong, too quick, and too dangerous. I collapsed into his arms.

The pain was coming faster and harder now, and I knew like all mothers that it was time. I looked into the dark eyes that I had once loved and begged for the new life inside of me. "No, not here. Don't take her. Please! Please, let me go. You love her. You loved me! Let me go, for her, please. Please, don't do this!"

I hit the floor with a dull thud, tangled in sheets and sweating, as usual. Dazed, I stared up at the sky blue ceiling of my room and wondered if my dreams would ever stop. As the thought of possibly falling back to sleep right here on the floor crossed my mind, my alarm clock began buzzing loudly.

So much for sleeping, I thought as I threw my blankets on my bed and searched for the snooze button.

As I stretched, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the dresser mirror across the room. My too big flannel pj's were twisted and wrapped completely around me, making me look like something from Return of the Mummy. I leaned in closer. What a mess I was. My ashy blonde hair was sticking up in every direction, and my hazel green eyes were now a very unappealing bloodshot red. At least, they matched the hair. I should have known that my first day of school would be like this. Why would it be any other way?

Today was literally my first day of school. I had been homeschooled my entire life because of my parents inability to live in any one place for an extended period of time. We moved here from L.A. only a year and a half ago. Dad's an artist and likes to be "one" with his work, therefore we move around a lot. He said that his new inspiration came from the earthy nature vibe that he felt from the river and surrounding forest here. I had to admit Hitherington was a perfect place for his latest collection. Although I never really knew how my parents had even found this cozy little town seeing as it was so close to nothing. There are a few diners on Main Street - really it's called Main Street and it really is the only main street in town - there's one grocery store and one small strip mall, both of which close at 6:00 p.m. The only place that is open late is the Starbucks; it's open until 11:00 p.m., which is a huge relief to me seeing as I recently developed a love of flavoured coffee. I had lived in a lot of places but Hitherington was by far the smallest with a total of only a few thousand residents. There is way less cement and a whole lot more Mother Nature here. Strangely I didn't mind it; I was actually beginning to be more relaxed here than I ever had in any other place that we had lived. I couldn't help but be happy that somehow, we had managed to live in this small town for just over a year, and finally, after an entire summer of begging, my insanely protective mother agreed that I could finally go to school.

I stood staring into the mirror examining the reflection closely and wondered what it would be like to be surrounded by a room full of my peers. No one ever paid me any attention at the coffee shop. In the entire year that I had lived here, I just didn't seem to fit in. I didn't get along well with the "cool" clique that hung out at the coffee shop. They were way into themselves, and I usually felt like vomiting when they came in. But I wasn't a pocket-protector-wearing nerd either. It seemed that if you hadn't grown up here, collecting your friends along the way, then you were a nobody.

And that was my biggest problem-I was a nobody. Being a nobody meant that no one saw you and no one cared. At least, the geeks were noticed. And the same with the Goths, everyone noticed them. But no one ever noticed plain old, blue jean and T-shirt wearing Elizabeth Peterson. It's not that I'm the type of girl who needs to have everyone's attention all the time. But it would be nice to be noticed every now and then.

I'm not a total loser thanks to my one good friend in this small town, Angie Rossen, and she was slightly higher on the "nobody" scale than me. Angie's mom was head of the welcoming committee in Hitherington and when it came time to welcome us here Angie had been dragged along for my sake. Thankfully we hit it off right from day one, I don't know what I would have done if she hadn't been forced to come along that day. Angie was higher up on the nobody scale because she became best friends with Vicki Colton, also known as the gorgeous, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, curvy, self-admitting boyfriend-stealing priss, in grade school, and now Vicki was one of the most popular girls in town. Because of their history, Angie was still "allowed" to hang out with her; hence, Angie had a slightly higher than nobody status, but Angie also had a lot of regular friends like me, which tended to pull her back down on the nobody scale-which almost made us even.

Angie, being too nice for her own good, decided to help me convince my mom that school would be good for me. We figured that if I was able to actually go to school, I might actually find a place where I fit in. Hell, I might even have a boyfriend by the end of the year if I played my cards right, but we didn't tell my mom that part. And so, here I was, standing in front of my mirror on the first day of school with my hair standing on end and my eyes bloodshot red. Great.

I knew what to expect when I entered the small bright kitchen: oatmeal, peanut butter toast, a glass of juice, and a small glass of milk, all set against the bright white of the kitchen. It was always the same. Who can eat all of that at 7:00 a.m.? As usual, my mother was in the living room, soaking up the bits of sun while watching the morning news and sipping her coffee.

"Morning, Mom."

"Good morning, Liz. Breakfast is on the table." She turned and took a good look at me. I assumed that my image had not improved because she threw on her worried mom face.

"How did you sleep last night? You look tired."

"I slept just fine," I lied, and she knew it. She slowly stood up, tucking her soft brown hair behind her ear

"Elizabeth Peterson." She was staring at me with shrewd brown eyes that pierced their way into my brain.

"Okay, okay, it happened again. It was the same as the last one." My stomach growled, gently nudging me toward the food on the table. "I don't remember much, just more of the same." I tried to smile and shrug it off, but the look on her face told me that she was worrying too much again. I reached for a piece of toast and took two large bites, hoping that she would end the conversation because it would be nearly impossible for me to answer her with a mouthful of peanut butter.

"I'm going to talk with your father and see if there is anything else that we can do to stop this. He was so sure that the new medication would work."

I had been to see my specialist four months ago because my dreams had gotten worse, even though I was on medication that was supposed to block them. My parents had decided that it was time to try a new drug that would hopefully stop the dreams altogether. As far as I could tell, it wasn't working. What was the big deal anyway? It was just a dream.

"I have to get going, Mom, or I'm going to be late meeting Angie." I grabbed my coat and bag and headed for the door before she could object.

The streets were quiet this morning. I assumed that I was the only one crazy enough to be up this early. It was surprising to see the little puffs of my breath as I headed up the winding road to Angie's. The air was cool this morning, but it certainly didn't feel cold enough for that. Even though we had left L.A. long ago, I felt it was strange for it to be so cold in early September, even if we were in the mountains.

I smiled as I approached Angie's small blue country-style house, which was one of the oldest in town. Four generations of Rossen women had been raised inside its walls, according to Angie's grandmother. I walked along the white picket fence that bordered the yard. As I reached the driveway, I noticed Angie's grandma in the window. She waved and smiled sweetly at me, her long gray hair not yet pinned back. She must be seeing Angie off this morning.

I headed up the driveway, waving back to Grandma Cora. Then I noticed a mop of curly brownish red hair: Angie was already in her little red car waiting for me. The Echo was her one luxury. It was a gift from her family on her sixteenth birthday. Her entire family, including aunts and uncles, had saved up to buy it for her. I would swear that she loved that car more than life itself.

"Get in. We have to get going." Angie's small heart-shaped face was all scrunched up, and I knew that there was something more behind her rushing.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to get here, Liz. Vicki has called me three times already. She keeps asking me why on earth you have to walk everywhere. She says that it takes forever." Angie rolled her big green eyes and made a very dramatic "Vicki" face which I had to smile at. I barely had time to close the passenger door before she started backing out of the driveway.

"I assume that we are picking her up?"

"Of course we're picking her up. Do you honestly think that she would be caught dead walking to school, especially on the first day?" Vicki had recently lost her driving privileges after her last "accident," and now it seemed that Angie had become her chauffer.

Vicki lives at the opposite end of town from me in the biggest, gaudiest house imaginable. Her dad was the mayor and totally and completely loaded. The entire family was born into money, and a lot of rumors circulated on just how old Mr. Colton Sr. really did pass on, leaving his son and family a very hefty fortune. You would almost always hear someone telling their version on how it must have happened over a warm cup of coffee on a slow Sunday at Starbucks. In Hitherington your business is everyone's business. Vicki always got whatever she wanted and didn't have the manners to be discreet either. She constantly paraded her expensive new clothes, purses, and pets in front of Angie, knowing that she could never afford anything remotely close. I always wondered how they continued to be friends, seeing how horrible Vicki constantly treated her. Angie swore that she wasn't like that when they were little and that she was still actually quite sweet, at times, but I knew it was a complete load of bull crap. Vicki was anything but sweet.

We pulled up in front of the long driveway, and Vicki, wonderfully impatient as always, came bolting out.

"What the hell is wrong with you? It's already 7:30; we're going to miss him."

"Cool it. We'll get there in plenty of time."

Vicki forced her way into the car, and Angie added, "By the way, we're going to Starbucks first. I need a latte."

Vicki was about to protest, until she saw Angie's I-dare-you-to-get-out-and-walk look in the rearview mirror.

"So, who is this `he' that we are going to miss?"

It was funny to watch Vicki's face light up at my question. I knew that she was just dying for someone to ask her.

"Guess what happened?"

Before I could form a guess in my head she was chattering away.

"Someone moved into the old house just outside of town this weekend. You know the Miller's old farmhouse?"

She was staring at me with her big blue eyes like I was slightly impaired. Of course I knew what house she was talking about, but it was hard to believe that someone had actually paid to live in it. I was sure that it should be condemned. "Is it safe for someone to actually be living there? I mean it's in pretty bad shape."

Vicki rolled her eyes. Evidently, I had completely missed the point to her story.

"Of course it's safe. The gorgeous new tenant said they wanted a fixer-upper. What I was really interested in was the fact that he was asking Daddy about the high schools here because he has a son."

I watched as greed took over her face, and I suddenly had a bad feeling about how my first day was going to go. "Apparently, he's a junior. You see this works out perfectly for me. I have a plan."

I should have known that something more was up when she came bounding out of her house in a very revealing black skirt and nearly invisible cami, shivering in the winter air that was settling in.

We pulled into the school parking lot with a satisfied smile on Angie's face and three warm lattes in hand, just as the main building was being unlocked. My nervousness from the morning crept back into my spine, and I thought I might actually puke. I really didn't mind Vicki having her own selfish agenda for the day: I had enough to worry about. I was never good in large groups, and being homeschooled, I hadn't had to deal with it often.

The main entry was pretty ordinary and had a very official feel to it. The walls were brick that had been painted white and were lined with photos of each graduating class going back to the 1970's. If they thought that they were going to display my picture for decades in this hall they were crazy. Vicki wasted no time. She headed straight for the main office, dragging Angie and me along with her. The room was small, with only a counter separating the waiting area from the two small offices. I moved toward the counter and smiled nervously, allowing Vicki to take charge.

"Ms. Carson, this is Elizabeth Peterson. She prefers Liz though. I need her class schedule so that I can show her around before it gets too busy. I wouldn't want to be late for class, it being the first day and all."

I noticed that while she spoke Vicki didn't once make eye contact with the receptionist; instead, she was peering out into the hallway nervously. The rather round Ms. Carson reached into her desk and pulled out two schedules. One had my name printed clearly across the top, and the other was slightly hidden behind mine but I could see that it belonged to someone named Marcus. She glanced at the names and handed me my schedule, looking toward Vicki with a raised eye. I got the feeling that she was suspicious of Vicki's all-too-sweet tone.

"Here you are, Miss Peterson. Welcome to John Michaels. I am sure that you will fit right in and make lots of new friends here, dear." She said the last part while nodding slightly at Vicki.

"Thanks," was all I could stutter. Vicki was already headed out of the small office, searching for the other new student at John Michaels.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from FATAL ELEMENTSby Kayla Taylor Copyright © 2009 by Kayla Taylor. Excerpted by permission.
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