Zac shook his head and looked away. That story sounded familiar.
"You know she was a witch before I turned her." When Zac looked at him surprised he said, "I see Aeriaya neglected to let you in on that little tidbit. I wonder what else she forgot to tell you?"
"If you're here to gloat Regulus, don't bother."
"I don't need to gloat, Zachary. My being here is simply a means to an end. That end is none of your business. The end that I do want to know about is the one you helped Aeriaya give to my brother. Both of them."
"Caius was an amateur and Arturius was a brute who stupidly relied on his strength. He was as idiotic as they come. He deserved to die."
"If we're talking about people who deserve things, then perhaps you deserve to die for murdering your maker. Or all those poor helpless humans you drained so you could go on living."
Zac clutched the edge of the bar, his fingers denting the wood as he tried to control his temper. "Then you deserve to die just as much as I."
"Funny thing about life," Regulus cocked his head, eyes twinkling. "Sometimes you just never get what you deserve."
Zac clenched his jaw and remained silent.
"I can see why everyone around here is so concerned about you." The Roman reached over and pulled his hand from the bar. "Such a temper."
Desperate for a subject change he asked, "Why wasn't Victoria linked to Katrin?" He knew that Aya probably neglected to tell him this part as well.
"She was one of mine. Alistair was one of hers." He glanced at Zac then said, "You don't remember him do you? Alistair."
"I remember plunging a stake into his heart. That's pretty vivid."
"He was helping Victoria. As I understand it, he knew a lot about you."
It was that moment when Zac finally got it. The night Victoria killed his family a vampire had come to visit her. A vampire named Alistair and he knew exactly who Zac was the day he had walked into Max's. Aya was his target, but he found a bigger prize. Zac had killed Victoria and he wanted payback. That was why he felt it necessary to make his life hell.
"I see now, that you get it," Regulus thumped him on the shoulder. "Alistair had a thing for Victoria, so you can understand why he wanted revenge."
"Is there a reason you're goading me on, Regulus, or is there something you wanted?" Zac asked loudly, fed up with whatever game it was the Roman was playing.
"I have a proposal for you."
"And?"
"What I'm proposing is that you come and work for me."
Zac scoffed, "You're kidding, right?"
"I see a lot of myself in you, Zachary. I came from very humble beginnings. I was good as dead until the Legion changed my life. And look at me now," he stared at Zac, measuring his reaction. "The downtrodden have the fiercest fire inside of them. Those are the people I want to fight beside me. You most of all. The pain you have been through only fuels the fire inside."
Zac glared at the Roman, wishing he could just rip his head off as well and be done with him. "If my entire life is such common knowledge, then you will already know that my answer is a very big go fuck yourself."
Regulus let out a laugh, "Don't be so hasty, Zachary. You may have had a hand in killing my brothers, and on a good day that would have earned you a painful death, but today I'm offering you a purpose. One that you are severely lacking. Have a think about it. I'll be around."
"Don't bother. My answer will still be no."
"You know I could just compel you." He leant back on the stool, surveying his response.
"Then why don't you?"
"Now Zachary, where would be the fun in that."
He sighed, rolling his eyes, refusing to reply.
"You know, you're very disappointing. I was expecting a lot more bite from you."
"If I'm so disappointing why don't you just fuck off and leave me alone?"
Regulus chuckled and threw a few bills on the bar. Standing, he gave Zac one last look, "I wouldn't count on that."
It was late when Zac finally left the bar, most of the humans had left already, so the street outside was empty save for a few random passing cars. Enough time had passed since his encounter with Regulus that he was hopeful that he'd disappeared for now.
As he turned down the street to begin the familiar walk home he stopped, cocking his head to the side listening. Something wasn't right. He glanced down the street to his left, which was shrouded in darkness. Every so often a street lamp broke up the murkiness, muted orange light illuminating the pavement. It was then that the wind shifted and blew in his direction bringing the unmistakable scent of blood.
Annoyingly, his teeth began to ache and he shook his head to clear his thoughts. Regulus probably cornered a few college girls from the bar and if that was the case, Zac didn't want to stick around to find out. From the pungent smell coming from down the street, it was too late to do anything about it anyway.
But, before he could move, the Roman sauntered out of the darkness, blood staining his mouth. "Zachary, just in time."
"Lucky me," he said sarcastically, turning to walk away, but he was cut off before he could take a step.
"I've saved one for you."
"If its all the same to you, I think I'll pass," he glared at him, eyes cold.
"Oh, but I insist."
Regulus grasped him around the scruff of his neck and pulled him down the street into the shadows. Letting him go, the Roman gestured to a young girl who looked about twenty years old, cowering against the fence of the adjoining property. Compelled and silent, but tears still rolled down her cheeks betraying her terror.
"I'm sure you're starving," he sneered, gesturing to two bodies that lay slumped beside her. "As you can see, I've already eaten."
Zac's jaw tensed as he tried to fight the burning that had begun in his throat of its own accord. This was the very thing that he'd been trying to fight for decades. Thinking about his relapse months before, he felt sick to the stomach.
"No," he said, taking a few steps back.
"Take her, Zachary. I know you want to." He backed away even further. "I can see it in your eyes. You want her. Her friends were so delicious."
When Zac still didn't move, Regulus roared in annoyance and he watched in horror as the Roman grabbed the woman and sunk his fangs into her neck, severing an artery. Pulling back, he let her blood flow freely, soaking her blouse. "Can you smell it?" he asked. "Isn't it intoxicating?"
Regulus pushed the woman towards him and he stumbled backwards. She fell to the ground sobbing uncontrollably, unable to run or to make a sound.
The Roman pushed him roughly. "Stop fighting it, Zachary. You know you want to."
"Stop it!" he roared, tearing at his hair, fighting the overpowering scent of her blood. His throat burned.
Zac pushed past Regulus, desperate to get away, but the founder pulled him back, pushing him onto the woman. Her sticky blood soaked into his shirt and coated his hands. He couldn't stop himself lifting his shaking fingers to his nose and inhaling the rich coppery scent. Groaning as his fangs grew he knew it was too late.
"Yes," Regulus hissed. "Take her."
Zac's eyes rolled back into his head and he was over her, his fangs tearing into the open wound of her neck like an animal. He was pulling her body up off the ground so he could bite deeper, drawing her blood in heaving gulps like he couldn't get enough.
Groaning deep in his chest as his mouth filled with her sweet blood, he sucked the life from her, whatever she was pleading falling on deaf ears. To his horror, he felt disappointed when he felt her heart stop beating, her body becoming limp in his hands. Disgusted, he dropped her and fell backwards onto the pavement.
What had he done? Regulus had pushed him into this so easily and he had killed the woman like she was nothing. Even when he disappeared after his last fight with Sam less than a year ago, he hadn't killed anyone. None of those women had died, they'd just been traumatized. Aya had brought him back that time, his life line. Now she was gone.
"Magnificent," Regulus shook his head. "Imagine what you could do when your heart’s in it."
"Bastard," he spat, trying to wipe the blood away.
Regulus grinned, "Yes. I suppose I am."
Zac burst through the front door of the manor, the wall splintering where the heavy oak door collided with it. He ignored Sam's concerned voice and flew up the stairs into the bathroom. He would have smelt the blood, of course he would have smelt the blood. Groaning as he tried to fight for some semblance of control he slammed the door behind him, shutting out his brother’s incessant pleading.
He was covered in the woman's blood, it was everywhere. Staining his face, arms and hands, it felt like acid. His shirt was stiff with it and it stuck to his skin. He began to writhe like he was burning, pulling his shirt off, kicking his boots aside. The stench of it was unbearable.
Zac could hear his little brother pounding on the door, but he ignored him. Catching his reflection in the mirror, he froze. Monster. Roaring in agony, he punched the mirror with all his strength, shattering it into a million tiny pieces.
Sam burst into the bathroom when he heard the mirror splinter, holding his brothers arms behind his back.
"Zac," he yelled into his ear. "Calm down. Whose blood is this?"
He twisted out of Sam's grasp and pushed him out of the room. Turning on the faucet in the shower as far as it could go, the room began to fill with steam. He stood under the stinging stream of water, not bothering to take off the rest of his clothes and they soon soaked through. Desperately, he tried to scrub the dried blood from his skin as the grey tiles swam with red water. He had to get rid of the scent.
Sam was back in the bathroom, his expression one of horror. "Zac, what happened?"
He was still scrubbing his arms, refusing to look at him. "Get rid of it." But Sam didn't move, staring at him with some kind of pained expression. Horror. "Get rid of it!" he yelled again, blinking furiously through the cascade of water.
He seemed to understand this time and began to gather up his discarded clothing and disappeared. When he came back Zac had curled up in the bottom of the shower, his head between his knees, the water still running.
Sam didn't dare touch him until he'd cleared the bathroom and any traces of blood he found in the house. Whatever Zac had done, this reaction was new and it scared the hell out of him. He eased his arm into the shower and turned the faucet off, his brothers shoulders heaving with the mere effort of breathing.
"He made me," he rasped, the sound of his voice muffled.
"Who made you?"
"Regulus."
Sam drew a sharp breath. They had anticipated his arrival, but not so soon. Truthfully, he had hoped that they had avoided the Roman from ever coming here when Aya left. What had he coerced Zac into doing?
He didn't push him for more answers, instead coaxing him to stand, throwing a towel around his shoulders. "Dry off bro. It's all gone. I'll get you something to drink."
Zac nodded numbly and shuffled into his bedroom, trailing pools of water. By the time Sam came back with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, he was in dry clothes sitting in the middle of the floor staring vacantly into space. He knew this was his way of coping. To keep himself from going AWOL. Shutting down was probably the best thing for a vampire to do in this situation.
He took the glass he was offered in a shaking hand and downed it. When Sam refilled it, he drank that as well, casting the glass aside.
"I killed her," he whispered, his hands in his hair. "I killed her."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"Did he force you?"
"He..."
Sam waited. Zac had killed before, he would be a fool to deny it, but the last time was forty years ago. Just after he had deserted in Vietnam. His brother had run off and joined the US Army and whatever had happened to him there, it had finally driven him to make the choice to try and be better, to be something else.
Zac grimaced. "He didn't have to."
CHAPTER SEVEN
The cold, hard light of day woke Zac earlier than he would have liked. Groaning, he ran his hands over his face. Memories of the previous night came flooding back and he rolled onto his side, almost throwing up. All this pain and regret was eating him up inside. His humanity was eating through his guts like acid. How much more of it he could take before he snapped again, he had no idea.
When he finally dragged himself from bed, he glanced into the bathroom. The floor was still covered with broken shards of mirror that sparkled in the sunlight flowing through the open windows. The water had dried, but there was a wet stain on the carpet where he'd flung his damp jeans the night before. What a mess. Literally.
Regulus. What was he going to do? He had asked him to join his sordid little network, to go and work with him. And do what? More killing? Pushing him onto that young woman last night had been the beginning of either forcing him into the decision the Roman wanted or making him realize the truth. And the truth was… Regulus was right. But, there was another thing he didn't factor into the arrangement he had offered. Revenge.
The Romans had ruined his life from day one. That day in the woods in Virginia, where he was shot, that was the moment their demise became his problem. He just didn't know it until he met Aya. Just because she'd thrown him away, didn't mean he should disregard his own revenge. Maybe going with him was the only way to end this for good. To end everything.
But, now that Regulus was here in front of him? The Roman had only shown him that fighting his urges was useless. He was born into vampirism as a cold hearted predator. Sam wasn't. Pure, sweet Liz wasn't. They were the opposite, they were the good things about being vampires. And that's why he had to leave them behind to go with his greatest enemy.
He could never kill Regulus, not on his own. She was the only way. And Zac was sure that wherever she'd gone, she'd be looking for an opportunity to do just that. If she turned up, he would help her, but he didn't want to lay eyes on her again. Just like he had been to her, she was just a means to an end. Until then, he would align himself with his own kind and stop fighting his nature. He didn't have the strength to resist anymore.
He would go with Regulus. It was his only option if he wanted to come back.
Pulling on a pair of dark jeans and a wife beater, he thumped downstairs and shuffled into the parlor. He caught Sam's eye as he turned around on the sofa. How was he going to tell him?
"Are you feeling better?" Sam asked.
"Somewhat," he shrugged, sitting across from his little brother.
"What's happened?" Sam could tell he'd made a decision about something and from the tone of his voice, he knew that he wouldn't like it. Zac had never given his brother a reason to like anything he did. His decisions had always landed both of them in hot water, but not this time. This time Sam would stay out of it.
"Sam…" After everything, he had trouble saying it.
"You're going again, aren't you?" The look in his little brother's eyes was one of disappointment and he almost caved.
"Yes."
"Why? Because of Aya? Because of what Regulus made you do? You can't go off again, Zac. Not this time."
"This time it's different, Sam." He heard himself pleading and it didn't sit well.
"Why?"
"This is it. This is my last chance. If I can't control myself this time, then it has to end."
"Brother..."
"Sam, please," he pleaded, knowing his brother would fight him to the end. He had to convince him. If this time he couldn't find who he was and find the balance between his humanity and vampirism… then it had to end. He had to die.
"I won't let you." Sam's hand was on his arm. "I won't let you go."
"Sam, you have to."
"Zac, no. This isn't the way. Let me help you. We can leave and go somewhere else. Somewhere where Regulus won't be able to find us."
"And what about Liz?" he snapped. "What about her?"
Sam hissed and sat back, rubbing his templ
es. "She will understand."
"No," he said, firmly. "She won't understand at all. She loves you and you deserve to be with her. Always."
"I…" he began, but Zac held up a hand to stop him, determined.
"You deserve a better life, Sam. You've always wondered when I'll go off the deep end. Following me around for decades to make sure I'm doing all right, to pull me back. That's not what I wanted for you," he sighed, running his hands over his face. "I never wanted this for you."
When Sam grimaced, Zac knew that he understood what he meant. The fact that he was a vampire. That it was his fault that his little brother had become this… this thing. "I know, brother. But, it is what it is."
But, Zac wasn't listening. "You have Liz now. You need to go and be with her. She needs you. Go to LA with her, go back to college if that's what you want to do. But, just live the life you want."
"Zac," Sam began, his face flooded with concern.
"Sam, please do this for me. I'll be okay." His little brother stood and embraced him without a word, finally understanding. "When this is all over, when I've found whatever it is I'm looking for... I'll come find you. I promise."
Gabby walked down the busy street that was clogged to the brim with tourists, bumping shoulders as she went. People milled about shops devoted to dark magic and voodoo, oohing and ahhing at the strange items for sale. None of it worked. It was all junk designed to line shopkeepers pockets. She could tell without even looking.
Bourbon street, New Orleans, had always been the home of many types of power. These days, one had to know exactly where to go to find it or they would only come away with rubbish. Luckily, she knew what she wanted and was determined to get it.
She walked into a small and unassuming cafe named Devils Kitchen, known for its selection of specialty cakes to the outside world. To those who knew things, it was so much more. All kinds of supernaturals congregated here to trade, inform, threaten and simply 'hang out'. Scanning the busy cafe, she laid eyes on a imposing figure. From the reverberations in the air, she knew this was the person who had summoned her here.
The Shadow's Son (The Witch Hunter Saga) Page 6
