Tainted Night, Tainted Blood (Kat Redding)

by E. S. Moore

  “No,” I said again.

  “Do you really have a choice?”

  My throat seized. He had Thomas in the circle with him. I had seen Beligral open the way to his own realm on his own before. Did that mean he could take something across? If so, what was to stop him from grabbing Thomas now and dragging him to whatever hell he had come from?

  I couldn’t let that happen.

  “Dismiss him,” I said. My hands were shaking, my knees were weak. I couldn’t cross the circle and grab Thomas. Ethan was my only chance.

  Ethan just stood there, staring dumbly at Beligral.

  “Ethan,” I said. He turned to face me. “Dismiss him. Now.”

  “No,” Beligral said. “I don’t believe he should. We aren’t done here.”

  Ethan looked from me, to the demon, and back again.

  “Ethan,” I said, “I will break the circle and let the bastard free before I let him take Thomas.”

  “I ... I ...”

  “Ethan!” I shouted, cutting off his stammer. “Do it!”

  Beligral laughed, letting the full force of his nature out with it. The sound rumbled through me, shook me to my core. I staggered to the side, nearly fell. The air itself seemed to take on a thick consistency. I was suffocating.

  This had been a mistake. Ethan seemed to be locked in place, afraid to obey one monster over the other. He was sweating profusely but didn’t seem nearly as affected by the thickening air as I was.

  I was going to lose everything—Ethan, Thomas, my life. Nothing would matter anymore. If Beligral decided to walk off with Thomas, make him some sort of demon slave, I would have nothing to fight for. I would never be able to live with myself.

  “Please, Ethan ...” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I was trapped, unable to do anything. I felt helpless.

  Ethan looked at me, saw the pain in my eyes. He closed his eyes and took a breath that looked to have pained him; then he turned to face his demon.

  Beligral’s laugh cut off. He was still smiling, as if he expected it to end this way the entire time. It was then I realized he had been playing us, seeing what we would do when he pressed us. This was all a game to him.

  “Remember our deal,” he said. “I don’t want to have to remind you.” He laughed again.

  And then he was gone.

  Thomas was still in the chair, seemingly untouched by the demon.

  “I’m so sorry,” Ethan said. “I never thought he would do that.”

  “He’s a demon,” I said. “What did you expect?” I wiped my hand across my eyes just in case and was thankful to find no tears. “Help me get him upstairs.”

  Ethan stammered a few words that made no sense and then rushed forward to help me get Thomas out of the chair. He helped me carry him up to the basement where the air wasn’t so oppressive.

  “Kat,” Ethan started, but I shook him off.

  “Forget it,” I said. “It was a bad idea. It’s over now. I’ll never have to see that bastard again.”

  Ethan paled. “You made a deal,” he said. “You won’t be able to ignore that.”

  “Watch me.”

  He shook his head but said no more.

  Thomas lay on the floor at my feet. The silver was still keeping him paralyzed, but he would come out of it in an hour or so. I really needed to figure out what to do with him before then. I didn’t want to have to stab him.

  I hated to admit it, but there really was only one thing I could do. I couldn’t leave him here in the house. We had nowhere to put him. I doubted Ethan’s summoning circle would hold him back like it did the demon.

  I was about to tell Ethan my plans to return Thomas to the Luna Cult Den when a faint knock came from above.

  My blood ran cold. Who the hell would be knocking at this hour?

  “Stay here with Thomas,” I said, grabbing my gun from the table. I checked to make sure it was still loaded and then headed for the stairs.

  32

  I hurried upstairs and tore open the front door without bothering to check who it was. I leveled my gun, my finger tensed on the trigger.

  Jonathan’s eyes widened and he raised his hands. “I brought back your bike,” he said.

  “Fuck.” I dropped my aim and glanced out the door. My motorcycle was sitting in the driveway next to the car I had driven. There was no sign of any other vehicle.

  “I walked it the rest of the way,” he said. “The truck is parked down the road.”

  I slumped against the door frame, suddenly weary. This week was weighing on me more and more. I had no idea what I was going to do now. Everything was falling apart and I had no idea how I was going to put the pieces back together.

  Instantly, I thought of the cop I had fed on. Did he fully recover? Was he still in the hospital? Did I really want to know?

  “I take it your plan didn’t work out,” Jonathan said.

  I didn’t look up. “No, I’m going to take him back to the Den until I figure something else out. I’m at a loss as to what to do.”

  He reached out and lifted my chin with gentle fingers. My instincts told me to shoot him for touching me. Instead, I found myself leaning into his touch, almost savoring it. I wished he would drop his glamour. I needed to see his true face. Right then, I was tired of appearances. I wanted the truth.

  “We’ll figure something out,” he said. His voice was gentle, soothing. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

  “Yeah,” I said, wishing I could believe him. I’d done nearly everything on my own since I learned how. I couldn’t let anyone get too close to me. The more people I had to worry about, the harder my job became.

  We just stood there, staring into each other’s eyes. It was clear he wanted to say something. I waited him out. Whatever I did or said would probably ruin the mood.

  The moon was drifting lazily across a sky that would soon start showing signs of the coming dawn. I still had more than enough time to get Thomas to the Den and return home. I didn’t have to rush. Maybe I should finally give in and let someone else into my life.

  Jonathan’s thumb ran across my chin and a small shudder ran through me. Would it really be so bad to have someone else to worry about, to have someone else worry about me? It might make all of this shit worth it.

  “I was thinking,” Jonathan said. He cleared his throat and looked out into the night. Everything was still, quiet. “After this is over, maybe we could—” A crash from within the house cut him off.

  I jerked away and gave Jonathan a terrified glance. I knew I still had a lot more time before the silver would wear off Thomas, but what else could have made the sound? Had Ethan dropped something? God, I hoped so.

  I hurried toward the stairs and pounded down them, my heart hammering in my chest. I spun to the basement door and flew down the next flight just as fast. I skidded to a stop, eyes scanning the room, unable to believe what I was seeing.

  Thomas was standing on one side of the room, panting. He was moving stiffly, as if the silver was still affecting him a little, but it wasn’t enough to keep him down any longer.

  Across the room, Ethan lay on the floor amidst scattered pieces of metal and tools that had once rested on a shelf. Thankfully, the shelf had fallen to the side and not on top of him or he might have been seriously hurt.

  Thomas’s head snapped my way and I froze. The gun was in my hand, but I couldn’t force myself to shoot him. He stared at me, eyes burning as if he was a demon himself. Had Beligral done something to him?

  Jonathan shot past me, clothes tearing from his body as he leaped at Thomas. I shouted at him to stop, but he didn’t listen. He plowed into Thomas even as he shifted to wolf, bones and ligaments shifting to a new form. They went crashing against the table holding my weapons and hit the ground together, teeth snapping.

  Ethan groaned and started to stand. He saw the wolf fighting Thomas a few feet away and his eyes widened and traveled to me. Blood was running down his chin from a busted lip, but he looked otherwise unharmed.
As long as he stayed put, the most he might end up with were a few bruises.

  Jonathan snarled and bit Thomas on the arm. My brother screamed an inhuman scream that sent shivers down my spine. It forcibly reminded me that Thomas wasn’t what he once was.

  Beligral had been right. My brother was nothing more than a shell, an animal running on pure instinct. Whatever I thought I had seen in him was just his training coming through. He had done it so much when he was a Pureblood, it had become the only thing he knew.

  Thomas swung his other arm and connected solidly with the side of Jonathan’s head. The force of the blow forced Jonathan’s teeth to tear free, ripping another scream from my brother.

  “Stop it!” I shouted, wincing at Thomas’s pain. I knew he needed to be stopped, but I couldn’t bear to see him tortured any more than he already was. He had already been put through enough without making it worse.

  My shout brought Jonathan’s head whipping my way. He looked at me through wolf eyes, and I could see the understanding and pain in his eyes. He knew what this was doing to me, but he had no choice.

  Thomas used the distraction to pull away from Jonathan’s grip. He spun around the edge of the table, putting it between him and his adversary. He scanned all three of us, blood and froth bubbling from his mouth.

  My heart broke then. That wasn’t my brother. I couldn’t think of him that way anymore.

  And yet, I couldn’t shoot him. The mind might not belong to him any longer, but it was still his body. I couldn’t harm him, even if he was ripping out my throat. I just couldn’t do it.

  Jonathan leaped toward Thomas. My brother ducked down and took the impact on his shoulder. Jonathan’s claws raked down his back, but he couldn’t get a firm hold. He slipped free and slammed up against the wall.

  I started to raise the gun. If I only shot him in the leg, or even the back, it would be enough. I didn’t have to let this go on any longer. I could end this now. We could take him to the Den and put him where he would be safe. I didn’t have to be so fucking weak.

  But I was. My hand shook and I dropped my aim.

  Jonathan was on his feet before Thomas could leap on him. He growled deep in his throat and I saw the bloodlust rise. I knew then he wouldn’t just incapacitate Thomas. He was going to kill him.

  Thomas rolled over the side of the table, landing on his feet, just as Jonathan swung at him. He flexed his claws and growled in answer to Jonathan’s challenge.

  Jonathan leaped. His feet hit the table and he swiped at Thomas with his claws. The flattened side of his head pulsed with his anger, with his bloodlust.

  Thomas dodged the blow by skittering backward. He howled and snarled, urging Jonathan to come at him again.

  That was when I saw his hand twitch toward the sword lying on the table.

  “Jonathan, no!” I raised the gun, intent on firing before the worst could happen. I was too slow.

  Jonathan leaped from the table. Thomas instantly seized the sword, and with a practiced hand, slid it from its sheath. He swung the blade upward, ducking down just as I pulled the trigger. My bullet sailed harmlessly overhead.

  Blood splattered the floor, the wall. Jonathan fell motionless to the concrete, his blood running from somewhere beneath him. I couldn’t see how bad it was from my angle. Thomas raised the sword, blood dripping from the blade, poised to finish off the werewolf.

  “Hey, poodle-mix,” Ethan shouted from his corner. “Your momma ate kitty litter.”

  Thomas’s head jerked up, though there was no way he understood what was being said.

  My entire world felt poised on the edge of crumbling apart for good. My life had been bad before. This was worse, so much worse.

  Thomas leaped over Jonathan and charged straight for Ethan. He moved lightning quick, so fast I couldn’t get a bead on him. He brought his sword up and brought it down hard.

  I screamed. My vision flashed red as he brought the blade arched downward. I was certain my hesitation had gotten Ethan killed.

  Ethan’s hands came out from behind his back. There was a loud clang as the sword met a spare muffler he had grabbed from the fallen shelf. Ethan screamed and dropped it, clutching his hands close to his body.

  Thomas raised his sword again. It was now or never.

  I raised my gun, tears blurring my vision. Thomas howled, a call of triumph.

  A completely inhuman sound.

  “Good-bye, Thomas.”

  My brother’s head whipped around. There was a split second when something in Thomas’s gaze changed. His eyes softened, a look of clarity came over him. “K—”

  My bullet took him square between the eyes.

  Thomas hitched once, blood pouring from the wound. All the air seemed to leave me as all life fled from his eyes. My brother fell to the floor, sword clattering loudly in the suddenly quiet basement.

  33

  I don’t remember sitting down on the bottom step. The gun had fallen from my hand, clattered to the floor, much like Thomas’s sword had fallen from his own. It laid there, an accusation all in itself.

  Time passed. I’m not sure how long. I just sat there, staring at the body across the room. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. The blood was really on the walls, on the floor, yet I knew it was on my hands more than anything else.

  “Kat?” Ethan approached slowly. I raised my head numbly toward him. He had a bloody towel in his hands. I didn’t even remember him running past me to get it.

  He looked at me and didn’t say anything right away. There were tears on his face. It mixed with the blood covering him from nearly head to foot. How had he gotten so bloody?

  It was then I remembered Jonathan. I turned my gaze to the limp form. More bloody towels lay next to him. He had been rolled over onto his back. Both his arms were draped across a towel resting on his stomach. His head was turned my way. He was alive.

  “What are we going to do with him?” Ethan asked. “He’s bleeding pretty badly and I don’t know how to stop it.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I swung my gaze back around to Thomas. He lay unmoving, his blood soaking the floor. I knew if I were to look into his eyes, there would be nothing there. He was dead.

  And I had killed him.

  “Kat?”

  “I don’t fucking care!” I shouted, rounding on Ethan. He winced and took a step back. He nearly slipped in blood.

  Jonathan couldn’t move, but I caught the tightness in his eyes. He looked hurt, but it wasn’t in a physical sense.

  And I didn’t care.

  “Get him out of here.” I nearly spat the words.

  “Should I take him somewhere?” Ethan asked, voice trembling. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Take him to a fucking doctor,” I snarled. I put my head in my hands. I felt dead inside. Was there anything left to live for?

  Ethan backed away and went to help Jonathan, who moaned as Ethan grabbed him under the arms. I didn’t look at them. I didn’t even move as Ethan worked the paralyzed werewolf past me and up the stairs.

  Alone with the body, everything felt blacker. I had worked so hard to help Thomas, only to kill him instead. I’d been so distracted by everything else, I hadn’t thought clearly. If Jonathan and the goddamn Cult hadn’t always been lurking in the background, maybe I could have saved him.

  I knew I was fooling myself. I wanted someone else to blame. Adrian hadn’t been here. Jonathan hadn’t pulled the trigger. I was taking my frustrations out on everyone but the one person who deserved it.

  I rose to my feet and looked away from the body. I couldn’t stand staring at it anymore. I would always see it every time I closed my eyes, would always hear the last sound he made. I didn’t need to stare at him while my eyes were open.

  I trembled and leaned my head against the wall. Had he tried to say my name? Had that last sound simply been another growl or snarl from a mindless beat? I’d never know, not after what I had done.

  The door upstairs opened and closed. A few moments
later, a car started up and the crunch of gravel quickly followed. I waited for the door to open again, figuring Ethan would come back so I could apologize to him.

  He didn’t return.

  I numbly walked up the stairs. Ethan was gone. I should have known he would be forced to take Jonathan to a doctor somewhere. It probably was killing him to have to go out and leave me behind. He was afraid of the outdoors, and yet he managed to face his fear when someone’s life was at stake.

  And I hadn’t.

  I let Thomas break free. I could have used silver dust to paralyze him. I could have left a knife in his side, could have done any number of things and he would still be alive right now.

  Disgust filled me. What had I done right recently? How many people had to die because of me, because of my weakness?

  I found myself walking out the front door. My Honda was there waiting; I mounted up and started the engine. I tore out of the driveway and hit the road so fast I nearly spun out.

  I didn’t care. Someone could come along and hit me with a truck and I wouldn’t give a fuck. Thomas was lying dead in my basement, as was my entire reason for living.

  Tears coursed down my cheeks unabated. I couldn’t hold them back any longer. They were the only thing that kept me from exploding.

  The wind whipped at me, blew my hair around my face, concealing my misery. My back was bleeding again. I barely felt it. I was free, free to go and do whatever I wanted. What did I have holding me down?

  I drove, heedless to where I was going. I just wanted to get away, remove myself from the spot where my world ended. I would drive and drive, and when I stopped, maybe then I could let the reality of what had happened hit me.

  I knew I couldn’t run from it, but I sure as hell was going to try.

  A sign drifted by. I didn’t have to look at it to know what it said.

  Delai shone up ahead. There was no traffic here, just an empty road leading to oblivion. It was the only place I knew to go.

  The day was quickly coming. I could feel the first hints of the sun’s rays on my back. I felt weak, hardly able to keep my head up. I just wanted to lie down in the middle of the road and let the sun finish me off. I deserved nothing less.