by Megan Parker
“Get out! Go get Zoey and wait for meeEEEAAAHHHHHHH!”
Serena tried to run to him but was overpowered by his aura and thrown towards the door. Crying at the impact, she pulled herself up, giving one last glimpse at the chaos before she rushed out the door and into the hallway.
Zoey!
Had to find Zoey!
She frowned, trying to remember the right path as she began to maneuver through the ghostly-white catacombs.
It wasn’t until she saw Zoey running towards her that she realized she’d been calling her name.
“Serena! What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Zoey! It’s Zane! I think he’s…” she choked on the words and lost her voice as she buried her face into Zoey’s shoulder.
Zane couldn’t forgive himself. He had become the monster plenty of times before—more times than he dared to imagine—and it had always ended in disaster.
Although it wasn’t new…
…it had never been this personal.
And while he had struggled in the past to keep at least a part of himself in control—enough to not destroy everything!—he had succumbed entirely to its wishes this time.
The memory of Serena as she hit the door flashed in his mind.
The look of pain and confusion and terror in her eyes right before she’d left the room in a panic.
She’d trusted him! She’d cared about him! She was the only person left who didn’t see him as an unstable weapon ready to explode at any moment. And he’d hurt her…
He’d given her reason to fear him.
He had hurt not only the woman he cared for, but, in doing so, he had destroyed the ghost—the one she truly loved—in a jealous rage.
No. Not destroyed…
It was no accident; no fault of the curse or its influences.
He’d wanted it!
Needed to destroy what stood in his way.
He shook his head as he thought of the rage as he’d reacquired his body from Serena’s lover. In his fury—in his need to be rid of him—he’d dismantled every fiber of Devon’s aura.
And he’d made sure it hurt.
Zane groaned and splashed more water on his face. He hadn’t even known such a thing was possible…
But apparently the beast did.
It showed him exactly how to destroy every last trace of his competition until he was certain there’d be nothing left to send to wherever it was they went to.
And he’d loved it!
He truly was a monster.
He looked in the mirror and saw that his eyes, though still bloodshot, had finally shifted back to their normal shade.
“You will live with the guilt of your true self until the day the beast consumes it all. You will perish knowing that, even in death, you will only cause more suffering.”
The rasping voice of the Taroe elder and his explanation of the curse the night he’d been given the tattoos echoed in his head. He let himself remember the pain he endured that night; the burning of the mystical ink as it was stabbed and scraped across his chest and back and arms while the Taroe tribe chanted in celebration of his punishment.
Maybe it would be best if he left. Maybe he could find a place where he couldn’t harm another; where the beast could destroy him and no more harm would have to fall on anyone else.
Maybe, in torturing himself, he could spare the world.
“Maybe I should just go home.” Serena grumbled into the palms of her hands as Zoey did her best to soothe her.
“He’s really become that overcome by that curse then?” Isaac asked, looking at Zoey with a deepening frown.
Zoey sighed and nodded, leaning her forehead against his stomach as he stepped over to the two.
Serena bit her lip as she watched Zoey and Isaac’s interactions. Even in a moment of seriousness their body language spoke wonders. Though they’d only been together a short period of time, they seemed so happy already. So perfect!
She scowled and looked away, holding back her envy.
“He was so angry! Even his eyes looked different!” she explained, “He kept trying to relax, but it just kept coming back!”
Zoey nodded slowly, “His rage is beginning to overwhelm him…”
Serena looked up, “He said that…” she frowned, trying to recall, “… that the curse wasn’t the cause of his rage. Is that right?”
“We can’t be certain of that,” Zoey shrugged, “None of us knew him before it happened. Gregori took him in after he found him trying to drink himself to death.”
“But vampires can’t get drunk…” Serena frowned and looked up.
Zoey nodded, sighing, “Yup. And that only served to fuel his rage further. So Gregori decided, since both you and your brother had left, that he could take Zane in and try to turn his life around.” She gave a gentle smirk, “To try to give him a fresh start on a new path.”
“Did it work?” Serena asked.
“More or less, I suppose.” Zoey shrugged one shoulder, “Zane certainly took to the training well, and it wasn’t long after that he began climbing the ranks as a clan warrior. That had seemed to turn things around, but as his fits of rage became rarer and rarer the curse became that much more sensitive to the slightest trigger.” She scoffed at a memory and shook her head, “He destroyed his first room—and this was a nice room, mind you! Gregori pampered him well—when he stubbed his toe on a door frame one night. By the time we’d gotten him sedated he’d already torn down the wall surrounding that door and most of the walls surrounding it for good measure. Gregori had scolded him later over how costly his temper was becoming.”
Serena frowned and looked down, remembering how Zane had lectured her about the cost of maintaining the clan. “So is his rage a side-effect of the curse, or is the curse piggy-backing on what was already there?”
Zoey frowned, “I’m certain that he had anger problems long before the Taroe put the curse on him—I’m guessing they saw it as a cruel irony to make his short fuse a literal one—but I also think that knowing what his rage was capable of after that made it that much harder to control.”
Isaac frowned, “Like when you know you shouldn’t think of something…?”
“Then that’s all you can think about.” Zoey nodded, “The curse has been eating away at him ever since, and every transformation has been just one more step towards having that thing take over him completely. That seems to be the bulk of the curse, to slowly destroy the victim from the inside by turning their worst trait against them.” She rubbed her forehead and winced, “If he’s so far gone—if the rage has consumed him that much—it may already be too late.”
“What do you mean? What will happen to him?” Serena asked, panicking.
“The Taroe are tribes of magic practicing humans that have separated themselves from society. They live peaceful and self-contained lives and have, over time, developed a method of focusing one’s magical energies through an enchanted ink that they use to tattoo themselves. When one of them comes of age they’re given their first tattoo, and with every following year or every shift in the tribe’s rank more tattoos are added. Usually, the ink serves to channel the wearer’s thoughts to boost their power, but there’s something different in Zane’s case. The ink triggers from his rage and the magic starts the transformation, but his body wasn’t made for that sort of thing. While Isaac and other therions are naturally built to shift forms, Zane’s isn’t; so every transformation takes a greater and greater toll on him.”
Serena looked up at Zoey and shook her head, getting more and more irritated by the idea of somebody willingly doing this to Zane, “But what does Zane have to do with the Taroe? Since when do they get involved with our kind?”
Zoey shrugged, “Normally they never would. Most can’t even say they’ve found a Taroe tribe, much less been cursed by one. But while he was just a sang—and not even pure-born, at that—the curse has altered him. Though he shouldn’t be able to see or use any of his auric channels, he’s achieved auric
feats in his beast form that most need years of training to accomplish. He can see in multiple spectrums; going beyond simple vision or seeing auras, but heat radiation, ultraviolet, gamma…” she shook her head, “When he becomes that thing there seems to be no limit. I watched him change in the middle of a fight against a gang of rogues, and in the middle of the chaos one of them took a sword to his leg! Cut it clean off from the knee!” She sighed, “And the damn thing just grew a new one right there. Then it made a note of using what the vampire had cut off to beat him to death. If it wants something badly enough, it adapts to find a way.”
“Oh my god…” Serena stared in shock at her friend, “B-but… why? Why give him that kind of strength?”
“Because strength without control is crippling.” Zoey sighed, “He can’t trust himself in a fight, because the moment it comes out there’s no control over who it kills. He’s already been seen as too much of a risk with other warriors from the clan who wouldn’t get within five meters of him! The power isn’t the curse, Serena, the curse is not being able to contain or direct it and having to live with the knowledge of what it’s done and the lives it’s ruined.
“In the end—when he turns back; when he becomes Zane once again—he’s no more powerful than he would have been before the curse. No auric control or enhanced vampire strengths. Just another sang that has to own up to something no sang should ever be capable of doing.”
“So the Taroes were willing to put so many lives at risk just to make Zane feel guilty?” Serena growled.
Zoey sighed and nodded, “It would certainly seem that way. I can’t vouch for either of them; I wasn’t there. I hadn’t even heard of something like this before, so I have to imagine it doesn’t happen too often. Whatever their intentions were, it worked, his mind’s beginning to break from the guilt and the torment on his body, and the only thing that seems to slow down the process is you.”
Serena’s eyes widened and she looked over, “Me? You mean that he’s never…” she frowned, “Why me? He didn’t even know me until the other night!”
“Either way,” Zoey stood up and stepped beside Isaac, “you seem to have some sway over it; something that nobody else has, and that makes you vital to our survival and his.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do? I don’t think he’ll even want to talk to me after what just happened, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to face him knowing what he did to…” Serena frowned and looked down, still upset about the loss of Devon. Though she couldn’t put all the blame on Zane for what had happened, it was easier than the alternative.
“I can’t tell you what to do, Serena. You’ll need to decide that. I just hope you can come to understand that he’s not a monster. He’s gotten that for far too long already.” Zoey took Isaac’s hand and she offered Serena a comforting though forced smile before they left to head back to their room.
“Right… Thanks, Zoey.”
Serena sighed, thinking back to her memories with Devon and how he had always been there for her. She sighed and gazed down at the ring she still wore.
Rolling it on her finger, she felt a lump form in her throat as her body shook from the flood of memories; memories that she didn’t want—didn’t need—to remember anymore. She’d been using those memories and the biased emotions they carried as a crutch for too long in the past. Now, she had to look at the reality of it all.
Devon was gone now.
Completely.
So what would he have wanted her to do?
She frowned at the question.
What would he really have wanted her to do?
In his final moments he had been so aggressive and uncontrollable—so not himself—in his struggle to get control of Zane’s body… and she’d fought him. Why? Just a few days ago she would’ve looked the other way and let Devon have any body he’d wanted—dead or alive—just so she could have him touch her again. But when it was Zane’s body he was after—Zane’s mind at risk—she had tried to stop him. Serena groaned and cupped her face in her hands again as she struggled with the realization that she wasn’t just in love with Zane’s body—hell, she’d been seconds away from having that all she wanted!—but that, for him in his entirety, she was willing to let Devon go.
Literally!
Years upon years of love and adoration and promise and effort put against several days of insults and banter and teasing and mocking.
And she’d chosen the latter…
She shook her head and cursed at herself.
When had she allowed herself to become a monster?
Zane cried out as he fired another round from the Beretta into his thigh and, feeling the burning of the beast threatening to break free, slammed the barrel against his temple and tensed his finger around the trigger.
“Give me a reason, you son of a bitch! You take one goddam step into the open and I’m blowing our fucking brains out! Do you hear me, motherfucker?”
The burning subsided and the tattoos faded back to black.
“Yea. Thought so! Let’s see how long you can keep it up!” Zane scoffed, moving the barrel back to his thigh and firing another shot; crying out once again at the jolt of pain that struck his thigh.
Just then the door flew open, now wearing a foot-shaped crater where it had been kicked.
Serena glared in at him, taking in the scene and scowling more. “You idiot!” Serena growled as she stomped into the room, slamming the door shut behind her and latching it with her aura. Zane tightened his grip on the gun, bracing for her to try to pull it from him, only to have her yank it from him with her aura. “You fucking idiot!” As she closed the distance between them, she drew back her fist and punched him straight in the jaw, sending him sailing off the bed and straight into the wall. She stared down at her hand for a moment, surprised at her own strength.
Surprised, but not regretful.
Not in the least!
She narrowed her eyes and rushed at him again, putting another fist into his stomach.
He wretched and whimpered.
She glared down at him and reveled in the bittersweet irony that losing Devon had actually made her stronger!
He groaned and lifted his mismatched blue and silver eyes to her. “Serena…” he croaked, still in obvious pain from her attack.
“You bastard! What the fuck were you doing? Trying to lure it out so you could have an excuse to kill yourself?” She shook her head and spat at his feet, “You’re a fool! A goddam idiot! We need you right now! The clan needs you! God-fucking-dammit, Zane, I need you!”
He looked down and frowned, the shame of Devon’s death still twisted on his face.
She rolled her eyes and sighed, slumping down beside him. She couldn’t hate him; not even if she wanted to.
“I’m sorry, Serena. I really am.” He covered his face with his hands to hide his paint-filled eyes. “I—fuck!—I don’t even know what to say to make it better; I don’t even know if I could make it better. It’s never been like…” he sighed and started to chuckle, “I’m usually not this fucked up.” His laughs had no trace of comedy in them.
“Zane… what happened to Devon?” Serena frowned, looking over at him.
“Do you want me to answer that truthfully?” he shifted his gaze to meet hers, “Because I can’t say for certain. I don’t know where he is now. Fuck, I don’t even know if he’s anywhere; I didn’t think you could destroy energy—I mean, a goddam middle school teacher can tell you it’s impossible—but I’ll be damned if it”—he shook his head and corrected himself—“if I didn’t find a way! I just couldn’t control it any longer… I wanted to kill him; I wanted to get rid of him so you and I could…” He lifted his bloodshot eyes to hers suddenly before glancing down at her lips.
Realizing what he was staring at, she instinctively moved to wet her lips, but caught herself in time to avoid a lewd display. She shook her head at her own reaction and looked away.
“Zane…” Her mind was even more conflicted now. He was jealous of
Devon! He had wanted her for himself and he’d killed Devon—a dead man—to get to her.
And she couldn’t bring herself to resent him for it.
And then it hit her…
She was attracted to Zane more than she ever could have thought possible. She bit her lip, trying to think of when her feelings had really started. That time they were training she felt the attraction more than she cared to admit. Still, she needed to see if her attraction was genuine.
She needed to see how far it went.
Lifting her head, she took his face in her hands and brought him to meet her gaze before she leaned in to kiss him, only to have her advance halted by his hand. Her eyes widened, startled at his intervention and she bit her lip as she saw that he was glaring at her.
A moment of silence passed, and as she studied his face she realized he wasn’t looking at her, but past her. He was staring at the door!
In a flash he was on his feet and planting himself between her and the door as a blood-red aura passed through and unlocked it from the other side, allowing it to swing open on the warped hinges from Serena’s assault on it.
“Am I intruding?” Keith smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe and eating an apple.
“How did you get in here?” Zane glared, feeling his anger rising once again. Though he was eager to give in to it—to let the beast break free and do what it did best—and be done with Keith and his bullshit! But he had no way of insuring that it would stop there, and with Serena in the room he couldn’t risk a total loss of control. He scowled, but nevertheless forced himself to take a deep breath and suppress the urge to free it.
“Ah! I see you’re learning to control it, eh? Pity. Seems like it could be useful, doesn’t it?” he scoffed, taking a bite from the apple and shaking his head, “A fun punishment. Sort of defeats the purpose if you ask me.” Keith grinned and looked over at Serena, “I’m sorry, sis, am I interrupting something? I wouldn’t have pegged you as the sort, but this doesn’t seem too far from bestiality, wouldn’t you say? First a human and now this.” He clucked his tongue, “What would our parents think?”
