The Nightling: Darkness Within

by Danae Ayusso

  Connor nodded, slipping her flask back in her jacket. “Try me, Kid,” she said, offering me her hand again.

  Giovanni nodded that it was okay.

  “Shawn,” I greeted and shook her hand.

  Connor’s light gray eyes were consumed in white and her head tilted to the side to regard me, but she didn’t pull away from me like the others have. “Aye, that makes sense,” she said. “And Andrei and Luka need their bloody asses kicked for this one.”

  “For what?” I whispered, struggling to swallow the lump that formed in my throat.

  “Ya don’t know what ya are, do ya?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know anything. I’m a baby, a month old if that!”

  Instantly she was smiling, looking up to no good.

  “Oh, this will be a pleasure, Shawn,” she said, looping her arm through mine and escorted me down the alley, continuing the way Luka was leading me initially.

  The moment we stepped over the line where the asphalt and cobblestone met, my eyes widened.

  “Welcome to the Galleria of Light, Nightling,” Connor greeted.

  The alleyway was gone, and replacing it was a wide cobblestone laid agora that was lined with businesses on all sides; bistros, coffee shops, bars, a classy looking tattoo parlor, various boutiques, book stores, a music store with vinyl, art gallery, and those were only the ones I could see!

  There were people walking, some were milling about, others were sitting outside eating or drinking, and it looked completely normal.

  “This is awesome!” Giovanni said, excited. “Dude, if I see Harry Potter I want an autograph!”

  Connor snorted. “Yeah, that one isn’t ours, but it was a nice try on J.K.’s part,” she said, shaking her head, watching my brother run around looking at everything he could.

  Absently I nodded, looking around with wide eyes. Outside each place were, what I suspected, seals that denoted those that they catered to, but I didn’t know what any of the symbols or crests were.

  “Get over here,” I hissed when Giovanni tried going in a shop by himself.

  “Oh come on! I want to see what’s in there,” he whined. “It’s totally calling out to me.”

  A man appeared in the doorway and shook his head. “Whose pet?” he asked, annoyed.

  Giovanni’s eyes widened. “You see me?” he asked, waving his hand in front of the man’s face.

  The man’s eyes turned solid white. “Yes, I see you. And no, you can’t come in unless leashed. It’d be my lack of luck you try to touch something and release a ghost armada out of stupidity.”

  Giovanni pouted with a huff. “Yeah, that is totally something I would do. One day though. A ghost can dream can’t he?” he rhetorically asked, batting his lashes.

  The burly guy tried to play mad, but the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.

  Connor dismissively waved the man away. “They are tourist,” she said.

  “Marshal,” he greeted with a nod before heading back into his shop, the door shutting behind him.

  Giovanni pouted and walked with us since he was denied entry.

  “That’s a major difference between us,” I commented, holding onto Connor’s arm for protection. “Vanni always liked learning new things and wanted to experience the unknown, and I was content learning through his secondhand accounts.”

  To my surprise, she nodded her understanding.

  The area looked completely normal; it was bright and airy, clean and hummed with some type of tangible energy that caused tingles to race across my skin. It was nighttime, but it was bright as day. Strings of Edison bulb lights crisscrossed overhead, connecting each side of the agora, and light poured from the glass storefronts, illuminating the area. Each person looked normal, but they didn’t.

  Look at them once, and they were human.

  Look a second time and the truth was revealed.

  Most were humanoid with noticeable differences like solid colored, sparkly, and overly large eyes. Some had fangs, others had a full mouth full of triangular teeth, but most appeared completely normal and would be mistaken as human if you were none the wiser. Others, there was no mistaking they weren’t human. Some had wings and flittered about instead of walking, others had complexions in unnatural hues that weren’t normal in the human world—blue, white-white, solid black, red, green, grey, lavender, and those were just the ones we passed—but what stood out more than anything was that they got along.

  “Is this a road for a specific species, race, or affiliation?” Giovanni asked, noticing what I did.

  Connor nodded. “Fae and those of Light,” she said. “Aye. Sometimes you’ll get a werewolf or a witch or warlock, maybe even a wizard that wanders in, but not often. There are Witches of Light and Warlocks of Light, but they tend to keep to themselves due to superiority complexes or because they are bloody shut-ins. Where was that wanker taking ya?” she asked, just realizing that Luka shouldn’t have been taking me here.

  I shrugged. “He mentioned the Vena Sera,” I said.

  She snorted. “Bloody wanker. Taking a short cut through Galleria of Light was a bullshit move, one that would have gotten him an ass kicking he wouldn’t soon forget.”

  Yeah, that’s what I had come to expect from anything involving Luka.

  “Was he trying to get me killed?” I asked, nearly spinning in circles, looking at everything and everyone, trying to keep from jumping up and down with excitement as Giovanni was and from running the other direction at the same time.

  This was what I wanted.

  I wanted to know more, to know everything, to be able to shake someone’s hand without them freaking out and demanding to know what I was.

  Being a baby vampire wasn’t their problem.

  Connor knew what their problem was, and she might have been the only one with the nerve to actually tell me and not fear Andrei’s wrath…

  Speaking of.

  “Where is Andrei?” I asked when we stopped outside a café; the logo on the door was of a tree of life, the canopy and roots connecting to make a circle, with various symbols running down the trunk. “Never would he permit me out of the church without him. Not like this. After the last time he threw me out on my butt it didn’t end well and a healer was required. And never would he entrust his brother with my care. Luka’s a jerk.”

  Connor softly snorted. “That’s putting it bloody mildly. Luka should have never been allowed off leash. Thank his bloody brother for that one. Andrei is indisposed with a darkened mistake created by witches that he has volunteered to deal with,” she said, pulling open the door to a café and motioned me inside.

  I hope it wasn’t the Shifters that he told his brother to pin on the witches.

  That would come back and bite me in the butt to say the least.

  “I offered to do it,” she continued. “but I think he needed to vent in a way that he wouldn’t get reprimanded for so he’s dealing with a Baba Yaga thing. Easy way to kill something without getting bitched at for killin’ it.”

  That was unexpected, but her tone warned not to press it.

  The café wasn’t overly loud, but it was busy enough that it might provide enough privacy to talk without worrying about people eavesdropping. The robust smell of coffee and fresh baked bread made my stomach growl, loudly, effectively stealing the attention of everyone in the café.

  Giovanni groaned. “Seriously, Sis, you’re going to scare off the locals.”

  I glared at him.

  Connor chuckled. “Ya are hungry, aren’t ya?” she mused. “Two white chocolate almond milk vanilla lattes, no foam, extra hot, with honey pearls. Better give the baby an entire party sized pear-almond tart as well.”

  The man behind the counter chuckled. “Of course. Anything else?”

  “Cheeseburger?” I asked, hopeful.

  He gave me a look, his honey amber-streaked-light brown eyes turning solid white as they moved over me. “No animal byproducts are allowed here. No Necromancer eats meat�
��” his words trailed off and he stepped back.

  Connor shook her head. “Calm down, Alder. She’s just hungry baby. Look at her eyes.”

  “She has a Spirit Shadow,” Alder pointed out the obvious.

  Does he mean Giovanni?

  “And that should tell ya something,” Connor said as if it were obvious. “Bring us out as much as she wants since Marshal Belova-Revnik will be picking up the tab.”

  That got many murmurs and chuckles from those dining within, and it caused others to hurry from the café.

  “Will the Spirit Shadow be requiring a menu?” Alder asked.

  Condescension noted.

  Giovanni smiled wide. “Ooh, what a flirt,” he mused, smooching his lips at the man behind the counter, and Alder’s eyes widened.

  “If ya break him, Cousin, ya pay for him,” Connor warned, pulling me across the café and through a swinging side door that led to a glass walled private dining area.

  “Vanni!” I called out, well aware my annoying brother was going to stand there flirting with the barista. “Get in here!”

  “Please, sit,” Connor said, motioning towards one of the velvet chaises that surrounded a short dining table. “Lingering will only get ya more attention than ya can afford at the moment.”

  Nervous, I took a seat and Giovanni eventually joined us and sat next to me.

  “You’re no fun,” he grumbled under his breath, and I rolled my eyes.

  Connor stretched out on the opposite chaise and eyed us. “I’m guessing ya got questions?”

  “Many,” we said in unison before smiling wide.

  She chuckled. “Very well. Ask.”

  “Spirit Shadow?” I asked.

  Giovanni nodded that it was a good place to start.

  She made a face; obviously that wasn’t where she wanted me to start.

  Alder walked in with two trays in hand.

  I got to my feet and hurried over to help him.

  His eyes widened. “Weird,” he commented, reluctantly relinquishing one of the trays. “You don’t see that often in any world.”

  Once the trays were on the table, he stood there looking between me and Giovanni.

  “Oh, sorry,” I said. “This is my dead brother Giovanni. Vanni, this is Alder.”

  Giovanni gave me a look. “I was there when we met him… Stop trying to hook me up, Sis. It’s creepy when you do it,” he complained.

  Alder chuckled, pushing his hand through his shaggy blond hair.

  Connor looked to the blushing young man. “Cousin, explain what a Spirit Shadow is. Ya can do it better than I. She’s young and with the idiots claiming her as theirs, they’ve taught her nothing.”

  “So it’s true? The Belova-Revnik brothers have successfully sired something other than a strigoi,” Alder dryly commented.

  I didn’t miss his tone and it made my shoulders drop.

  “Be nice,” Connor warned. “Shawn is a victim of their cowardice and selfishness, not a part of it. She is a baby vamp, days old, and yet she is sitting here waiting to be enlightened as to what they will continue to keep from her. Gaze upon her eyes, Cousin, for they are neither red nor mirrors, in fact they are a beautiful shade of hazel-violet.”

  Alder looked between me and Giovanni before cocking an eyebrow. “Huh. That isn’t going to end well for anyone,” he surmised, and she nodded her agreement. “What Connor is asking me to tell you, explain I suppose, is that spirit are all around us. Those that passed from this plane of existence to another, and those that refused to leave all together, it doesn’t matter; they are always around. Sometimes it’s a full spirit and other times it’s merely a sliver of a spirit, a fragment or shadow, if you will. Most people don’t notice them, don’t sense or feel their presence. Necromancers, we see them all the time. It’s our curse, in the opinion of many, but to me, in my opinion, it means I’ll never be alone. Ghosts, as humans call them, normally don’t interact with the living like that one does.”

  “He’s my brother,” I said. “Not that one.”

  Alder offered a small smile. “Sorry, no disrespect meant to either of you intended. Only those powerful enough, the living and the dead would have to be, can manifest in a constant state of consciousness. It is very impressive. Your brother is considered a Spirit Shadow, a shadow of his soul and consciousness that refuses to go to the light or the dark, or to rest in eternal peace. He tied himself to you through blood, bond, and magic. The amount of strength and power required to do that is unimaginable. How long-”

  “I was eighteen when I died and Shawny was thirteen,” Giovanni said. “Ten years ago.”

  Connor and Alder mouths fell open.

  I leaned into Giovanni. “I think you scared them, Polpetto.”

  He nodded. “I think I did, and don’t call me meatball in public, especially in front of a hot piece of ass like Alder.”

  “Sorry, Polpetto,” I said with a smirk, and he rolled his eyes.

  Alder shook his head. “I don’t even know what to say about that, and I don’t want to. I am no longer a Priest of the Light, thus I take my leave. It’ll take twenty minutes to get a meal out,” he said, heading for the swinging door then paused. “Did you want to keep me company in the kitchen?” he sheepishly asked, blushing.

  I shook my head. “Not really,” I said. “I was hoping to pick Connor’s brain a bit before those keeping me hostage force her to stop.”

  “Not you, your brother,” Alder clarified. “I’ve always had a soft spot for the corporally challenged, and if you must know, he fascinates me.”

  Giovanni smiled and got to his feet. “Lead the way,” he said. “Sis, stay out of trouble while I’m gone and don’t bite anyone otherwise I’ll tell mamma on you.”

  Was my brother seriously going to up and leave me, just like that, and run off with some guy he just met?

  Yes.

  Yes he was.

  Connor chuckled when we were alone. “Your brother will be fine. Alder is a good guy, one of the few in the city marked by Light, and would never hurt anyone. At one time he was considered a Herald to the Goddess, a High Priest in the temple of Light which was unheard of for males. Why do ya think there’s no animals harmed or touched in anything on the menu? Alder refuses to take life or to hurt one, and milking a cow or goat, taking an egg from a hen, is hurting them in his mind. He won’t hurt those in the afterlife either, and instead of wielding the impressive magic that he naturally possesses, he makes coffee and pastries.”

  That, actually, made me feel slightly better.

  “What do you know of Heralds of the Goddess?” I asked, taking one of the coffees and a slice of pear tart.

  Since she brought it up, and it might have something to do with why Giovanni is around, I figured I’d ask.

  “Mia nonne always said I was a Herald of the Goddess when I was growing up. I never understood what that meant and they never told me. Over the years, I lost my faith more and more with each body I laid in the ground,” I explained before taking a bite of the tart…

  Any sadness that accompanied my admission was quickly replaced by unimaginable happiness that flooded me the moment the buttery, flaky, flavorful tart touched my tongue.

  It was the greatest thing I had ever eaten!

  I shoved the entire thing in my mouth and reached for another slice.

  Connor watched me, coffee in hand. “Ya haven’t fed, have ya?”

  I shook my head. “Not when conscious,” I mumbled with my mouth full.

  She nodded her understanding. “If ya truly are a Herald, it only reiterates that Andrei and Luka had no right to do this to ya. What do ya know of vampires?”

  I made a face. “Nothing other than they don’t use the bathroom or sparkle, though both is purely conjecture.”

  “That’s very disturbing,” Connor commented with a chuckle. “Since I’m not a vampire and have no interest in speaking of them, I’ll entertain ya, for now. Heralds are blessed beings, usually of the shadow generation.”


  “Huh?” I asked, peppering the table between us with tart crumbs.

  “Ya know nothing of Necromancers, do ya?”

  I shook my head, my eyes wide, but it didn’t stop me from eating.

  I was starving.

  “Due to the power and intensity of the Light that their magic is based, it grows greater and greater with each generation. Because of cunts that thought their power, their Light, was comparable to Matka Ziema’s, the Horned God punished them by extinguishing their Light every fifth generation to prevent their Light from illuminating brighter than that of the Goddess. The Light grows with each new generation before it is completely extinguished on the fifth generation and then the cycle starts all over.”

  That was really messed up.

  “They have to watch the non-magic generation die?” I asked, ignoring the tear that stained my cheek. “As punishment for the insolence of those before them?”

  If what she saying in a roundabout way was true, that meant possibly Giovanni and I were Necromancers, the extinguished Light generation, and that is what killed my brother.

  Connor nodded then shook her head. “Those born in, what they call, the Shadow Generation are not the only ones born mortal. Necromancers can either live long lives or they can live mortal ones. It is their choice. By honing their craft, by feeding the Light within them through unimaginable religious devotion and study, and if they are blessed by the Goddess in return, they will be blessed with her immortal breath. However, that breath she can take at any time. Necromancers are a rare commodity in our world because of it. Many abuse that breath of immorality and the Goddess takes it back. The power over life and death is one that is alluring to the weak of heart. Your brother didn’t die because he was of the Shadow Generation of your lineage,” she said. “He died because he was born.”

  “Wait, what?” I choked.

  Connor sighed before taking another drink from her flask then dumped the rest of its contents in her coffee.

  Oh how I wish I drank at times like this.

  “Males are not born with the blessing of the Goddess. They are mortal from birth, and most don’t survive to see old age,” she explained. “Those born of the Shadow Generation rapidly go to the grave once they hit puberty in those of strong bloodlines comparatively speaking to those of immorality. If I had to venture a guess, your father was of the Shadow Generation and that is how he was able to live as long as he did.”