by Eva Brandt
Reaching him confirmed my worst fears. A small puddle of blood had already formed beneath his body. Weren’t werewolves supposed to have an advanced healing factor of some kind? Everything in fiction claimed that was the case. What was the point of being a paranormal creature, if it didn’t come with the coolest perks?
Fuck my life. What was I supposed to do now? My previous attempt at providing first aid to a wounded individual had ended very badly, and even if I tried to help, I knew even less about providing assistance to animals than I did to humans. I supposed it must be possible to take a wolf’s pulse, but would that even help him?
Feeling powerless and wretched, I nevertheless reached out to the werewolf. The moment my hand made contact with the shifter’s body, a jolt of electricity shot through me. A strange combination of pleasure and pain exploded over my mind and body. My eyes widened, and reality seemed to shift, the colors in my vision dancing in strange, surreal patterns. For a few seconds, each individual strand of the shifter’s fur looked so much more detailed, as if I could see every hair under the microscope. Despite the noisy battle still going on around me, the sound of his heartbeat echoed in my ears like thunder. My breath rattled as he struggled to make his lungs work, and every cell in my body vibrated with an awareness deeper than anything I had experienced in my life.
And then, it happened. My strange, detailed perception of the world flipped sideways. An odd, but almost calming chill invaded my body. I knew what it meant, but I let it happen. I wasn’t afraid. Death always came to all things. I would have liked to live longer, to do more, but in the end, the best thing a person could hope for was to find purpose in his or her life. In my heart, I believed that maybe, if I died doing this, that purpose would be fulfilled.
That train of thought came to an abrupt halt when a strong hand landed on my shoulder and pulled me away from the werewolf. I cried out, the jarring wrongness of the separation sending shocks of agony through every inch of my body. It was very much like the recoil of the gun I had shot, but this time, it hurt, so much so that for a few moments, I almost thought I would black out.
If I didn’t, it must’ve been out of sheer stubbornness and spite. Clutching my chest, I forced my mind and body to work, to preserve my hold on reality. It was easier said than done, and I had no idea how long it took me to regain my composure. It must have been a while because by the time I could see properly once again, the battle had ended.
It was strange and discombobulating to witness such chaos disappear into what seemed like the expanse of a minute. I rubbed my temples, trying to chase away the migraine already pounding at my skull. I had to focus on my priorities here, damn it. I had to figure out what the hell had happened.
The answer to that question wasn’t that hard to find. The werewolf appeared to be moving again, whining lowly, in pain, but alive. The man who’d saved me from becoming the dinner of the infuriated not-lemurs was currently kneeling by his side, petting his fur and murmuring something in a low voice.
I got up on shaky legs—when had I moved away from the werewolf?—and stumbled to the side of the duo. As soon as he saw me approach, my unexpected ally stopped his ministrations on his friend and stood as well. He placed himself between me and the fallen shifter, blocking my way to him.
“Don’t worry. He’s going to be all right. But I can’t let you near him any longer.”
He couldn’t have been more different from the werewolf if he had tried. His hair was practically white, and his eyes shone crimson, almost as if he was suffering from a form of albinism. Oddly, though, it suited him, as did the warm, if pained, smile he shot my way.
Of course, that didn’t change the fact that he was denying me access to the werewolf, which did not sit well with me at all. “W-What?” I stammered. My voice came out raspy and raw, like I had been screaming. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Why?”
“It’s just not possible,” the man replied. “You’re better off not asking any questions. You don’t need to know the reply anyway. It doesn’t matter.”
I bristled at the dismissive response. Outrage chased away the weakness permeating my body, and I reassessed my original opinion of the man I had deemed kind. “Hey! I nearly got killed here. If you think you can just brush me off with no explanation—”
“He’s not brushing you off,” a different voice said from behind me. “He’s simply telling you the truth.”
At the sudden words, I yelped, so startled I tripped over my own feet as I turned to see who had sneaked up on me. When I did, I almost wished I had been knocked out, because the new arrival terrified me more than all of the members of the asshole’s group put together.
I couldn’t have said why that was. The man made no attempt to threaten me, and he didn’t look terrifying, not in an “I’m secretly a monster, glowing eyes included” kind of way. Hell, the albino guy looked far more inhuman than this third stranger. Even so, there was something unnerving about him, something cold and lifeless that sent a chill down my spine.
It could have been his silver eyes, which reminded me of the poison that had almost taken the werewolf’s life. It could have been the fact that he didn’t even seem to be breathing, or making any sound at all when he moved. Then again, maybe it was something simpler than that.
Once upon a time, when I’d been younger, my art teacher had told me something strange. He’d said that nothing was more monstrous than perfection. Everything that was alive always had a flaw. I had found this irritating and senseless, but now, I could understand what the man had meant.
The stranger was just as beautiful as a perfectly cut diamond, and for that exact reason, he was... not right. Everything about him was empty and artificial. The sharp angles of his face seemed to slice straight into my soul, and when he spoke again, the words froze my blood in my veins. “It’s all right now. There’s no reason to be afraid anymore.”
He smiled, but it was nothing like the warm expression of the albino guy. Instead, it was as frosty as the rest of him. Even the asshole’s disdain and snarky remarks had been preferable to this. I instinctively took a step back. “Somehow,” I said, “I doubt that very much.”
On the ground, the wolf let out another low whine. I couldn’t help but steal another look at him. It was a mistake, because the next thing I knew, the silver-eyed stranger was right in front of me. His gloved fingers cupped my cheek in an almost tender hold as he forced our eyes to meet. “It’s all right now,” he repeated. “This will all go away. Sleep now, and let go of all your fear and pain.”
I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted to find out more about the werewolf’s condition. I wanted to understand the meaning of the strange albino’s pained smile and to soften the sharp edges of the diamond knife that was cutting me. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much choice.
A strange lassitude fell over me, oppressive and thick, suffocating in its intensity. It was nothing like what I had experienced before, but I still had no hope of fighting it. “P-Please,” I stammered. “D-Don’t...”
I didn’t have enough strength to finish the sentence. My knees went weak and I stumbled into the stranger’s arms. “Shh,” the man whispered in my ear, brushing his lips over my forehead. “You’re safe. There’s nothing to worry about any longer. We will keep our promise to you, as we have for centuries.”
I would have liked to ask what that meant, but I never got the chance. The man passed a gentle hand through my hair and murmured one final, “Sleep.” Just like that, the last vestiges of my resilience crumbled, and I succumbed to the darkness.
* * *
Darius
I never should have touched her. I didn’t know what had made me do it, what had urged me to kiss her forehead, but I acknowledged the horrible mistake I had made the moment my mind connected to hers. By then, it was much too late.
Pain erupted over me, and I half-expected to collapse right then and there. I didn’t know what kept me alive, what kept my heart beating and my lungs taking in air when the
y should’ve instantly shut down.
Perhaps it was because I was supposed to fulfill this one last task, help this human woman forget her trauma, just like I had with countless others in the past. Perhaps the enchantment I had just cast needed to run its course before the other one could take hold. Either way, I knew what I needed to do, and that thought brought me clarity. I reached out to my magic once again and found it even easier than it should have been to blur her memories. I did not look too deeply into her past, only catching brief glimpses of her mind as I made sure that she would be able to continue her life as usual.
I did make a note of her name, but that was impossible to miss whenever such magic was used on a human. Memory blurs worked on the basis of shoving real memories into the human’s subconscious and hiding them under a convenient artificial insertion. It was always preferable to stay as discreet as possible when crafting this addition, but some prying was unavoidable. The woman’s—or rather, Lucienne’s—consciousness was a bit chaotic due to her traumatic experience, but nevertheless, I managed to soften the edges of her panic and induce the somewhat more calming, if still unsettling memories that would be suited with the unavoidable cover-up of the incident.
I retreated from Lucienne’s mind, satisfied with the results of my efforts. This alone struck me as strange. I had never experienced satisfaction, or any other emotion, in my life. Was that even the right word for this particular feeling, or should I have called it something different?
I supposed semantics did not matter because this was it. This was the moment when I would fulfill the vow my people had made, when I would pay the price for my unforgivable mistake.
The moment never came. I opened my eyes, only to find myself still holding the now unconscious Lucienne in my arms. I moved on instinct and held her close to my chest, careful to not touch her again with my skin despite the proximity between our bodies. It made no difference.
Pain, I understood. It was a physical sensation, and I was well familiarized with it. The satisfaction, I had sort of dealt with, since I’d chalked it up to something temporary which would vanish when the unavoidable happened. I wasn’t nearly as successful at handling the shock that erupted over me, and it coursed through my body, my blood and my bones with the virulence of a deadly poison. It paralyzed me, and for a few seconds, the only thing I could do was stand there like a statue. The scent of Lucienne’s hair, combined with that of her blood, just made matters worse.
The crisp, mental clarity that had accompanied me all my life melted away into a labyrinth that made no sense. I was staring in countless different directions, unable to process the meaning of the paths that lay before me. A distant light seemed to shroud my body, but if it was supposed to warm me, it failed.
It was just as well that I was still surrounded by my staff, all of whom needed my attention, and expected me to do more than mimic one of my mother’s favorite works of art. Cyrus stepped up to me, and his stern voice slashed through my trance like his dagger so often did to scavenger flesh.
“Your Highness, we’ve recovered the information the guardians were sent to retrieve, and we are in the process of doing damage control with the human population.”
Right. I had come here for a reason, and it did not include succumbing to the emotions this lone human woman could make me feel. Turning toward my subordinate, I asked, “How many casualties, Enforcer Diaz?”
I marveled at the fact that I could still keep my voice steady when inside, I was screaming. Perhaps it was just practice and the fact that I had never spoken in any other way except levelly.
Cyrus didn’t notice anything amiss with me. “First reports indicate five humans, three men, two women,” he dutifully answered. “The damage to the bodies is consistent to attacks from both shifters and vampires.”
A fierce, overwhelming feeling swamped my consciousness, making my stomach roil and spots dance through my vision. I forced myself to conceal the sudden tremor in my hands, focusing on the overall success of the mission, rather than the dead it would leave behind. “I see. We will handle that as well. Any issues of concern among our forces?”
“For the most part, we’ve only had minor injuries. The sole exception is Guardian Whelan, but he is not in lethal danger.”
I stole a look at the still unconscious werewolf. He had yet to be retrieved by a healer, and remained on the floor of the club, with his vampire partner by his side. This was a good thing since it meant my lapse must’ve been brief and unnoticeable. Distracted by Guardian Whelan’s injury, Malachai Braun didn’t seem to have noticed my stupid mistake, or the fact that I had touched Lucienne.
Mentally thanking the High King for my good fortune, I turned my attention to Cyrus once again. “Well done, Enforcer Diaz,” I said. “As always, you do The Pure Kingdom of Alaria honor.”
The words tasted bitter on my tongue because we shouldn’t be feeling that we had fulfilled our task in an appropriate manner when five humans had died. However, the group of scavengers that had attacked us had been large and well-organized. They’d managed to intercept a meeting that was supposed to have been a secret. It was a good thing that I had been careful enough to have a squad of enforcers on standby, to act as reinforcements for the two guardians who had gone to the meeting with the pack of Banished. Otherwise, the situation could’ve been far worse.
The thought brought to mind the second matter that needed to be dealt with. “And the Banished?” I asked Cyrus. “Are they gone?”
“Not yet. Their leader appears to be showing some concern for Guardian Whelan. Enforcer Ayers is holding up the perimeter while we wait for further instructions. The Alpha seems very insistent on not listening to her.”
That made sense since the Alpha of the Banished pack and Guardian Whelan were siblings. Siblings were supposed to display that kind of emotion. Or so I had heard. Gods be damned, I was getting a headache trying to figure out this strange predicament I was in.
Then again, perhaps the headache had other causes entirely. Damn it, I needed to wrap up this mission and get out of here before things escalated further.
With my one free hand, I waved for Malachai Braun to approach. “Guardian Braun, go ahead and assist Enforcer Ayers with the Banished. Notify them on my behalf that there is no need for them to stay. Guardian Whelan will receive care at the Palasion.
“Enforcer Diaz, coordinate with the rest of our troops and retrieve all of our remaining injured. Leave the bodies of the scavengers inside the club. Take this woman to an ambulance and start the process of modifying the memories of the remaining humans. The memory of a fire would be appropriate.”
As I spoke, I passed Lucienne into Cyrus’s arms. She released a small, sleepy mumble of protest, and the simple sound tugged on my heartstrings. It felt so wrong to let her go, and I wanted nothing more than to continue being by her side. However, it was that exact craving that posed a problem. I had already held onto her for much longer than I should have. I still had a duty to uphold, and far too many answers to find.
Fortunately, my subordinates were nothing if not efficient and followed my instructions to the letter, which left me with my regular job of cleaning up after my people. I would have preferred to personally modify the memories of all the humans present on the scene, just like I had done with Lucienne. Mind magic was a delicate field, and I’d always been better at it than most Alarians, so this was the approach I normally took. Today, I refrained from it, since I feared that my earlier episode would keep me from going through with this task safely. Just the fact that I experienced this self-doubt told me that I needed to tread lightly, and the persisting physical side-effects did not fill me with too much confidence. Thankfully, the sheer number of humans that needed to have their memories changed would’ve made it impractical for me to intervene even under normal circumstances, so Cyrus did not deem it odd.
As my team trailed out of the club, leaving only the dead scavengers behind, I found myself standing alone on the empty dance floor. The silence ec
hoed loudly against the clamor of incomprehensible ideas in my head. The pain I had barely been managing to suppress bloomed in my chest once again as if it had just been waiting for privacy to unleash the full extent of the damage it could do upon my unsuspecting body. I dropped to my knees, trying to control the viciousness of both my curse and my emotions, clawing at myself as I struggled with the magic that threatened to overpower me. Blood pooled in my mouth and I spat it down, the crimson liquid coming very close to choking me. Gods, I could not do this, not right now, not here, not before I at least figured out how in the world this was possible.
“Forgive me, My High King,” I whispered under my breath, “and please, grant your humble servant your aid once again.”
Despite the fact that my request was directed at my long-dead ancestor, a different image popped into my head. The woman from earlier seemed to manifest from the shadows of my mind, and this time, she was smiling.
I shouldn’t have been able to see her like this. She hadn’t smiled at me. She had been afraid, which, in hindsight, must’ve been the right reaction. But she had also been so warm, so sweet and so defiant. She had wanted to help Guardian Whelan and had lashed out at Guardian Braun when he’d gotten in her way. If she and the werewolf had spoken, I had not seen any of their exchanges in her mind, but I’d sensed that she felt indebted to him.
A sharp pang of something I couldn’t quite identify flashed through me, like a fierce claw raking over my soul and my mind. I screamed, and fire exploded from my fingertips, spiraling around me in a storm of uncontrolled magic. The blaze consumed everything in its path, from what little furniture had survived the battle, to the bodies it had left behind. The bar practically exploded, the alcohol feeding the already powerful inferno.
