And then he sees the truth:
We've been playing with him.
The chase. The struggle. The effort.
Nothing more than our own game of cat and mouse.
"Game over, motherfuc--GAHH!!"
"Let him go." A voice from behind resounds both in our ears and echoes in our skull and a tremor spreads through our body. Somehow, through the struggle within us, we keep the writhing mutt in our grasp. I SAID PUT HIM DOWN, ZANE!
We put him down.
He's on the ground for less than ten seconds, staring intermittently between us and his savior, before she tells him to get lost. Realizing this is the only chance he's going to get, he does just that.
"What are you doing here?" we snarl, watching as our quarry hightails it over the roof; leaving only his canine stink and a trail of urine to remember him by. "You getting a wet-spot for mongrels all of a sudden?"
"What I've got a wet-spot for is hardly your concern, you asshole!" Zoey steps around--her short, bluish-black hair sweeping through the darkness like a shark's fin in dark water--and locks on us with a pair of angry blue eyes brighter than the moon. Despite being more than four feet shorter than us, she crosses her arms over her chest and lets a moment of silence waft between us with a static pause as a disapproving mother would a reckless child. "Would you care to try to explain?"
We snarl at her, "WE DO NOT ANSWER TO YO--"
"Enough, Zane," she holds up a small hand and rolls her eyes at us
At US! How dare she--
"Pardon me? How dare I what? You think being a jerk to a therion who made you upset is making good use of your time; or, better yet, your life?" her hair shifts angrily as her sea-blue aura starts to slip free and tussle it and she stabs a finger towards the corner that the therion had made his escape, "Would you like to try that with me, Zane? You want to use this gift as a--"
We roar in her face, "IT'S A CURSE!! WE ARE--"
"Shut up." Her aura whips forward at that moment and ensnares us by the throat with enough grip to hold us. We feel the rage build up within us--the dark thing darting about within our body and sinking its toxic fangs into any part it can find to drive us to fight--and we try to throw our own red aura at her to counter. She absently bats it away with an auric tendril and lifts us off the ground and holds us--swaying several feet over the rooftop--to force us to listen:
"Always bottom of the bottle with you, isn't it? You can never reflect on how it got that way, or why you allowed it to get that way, or even what you should do about it! It's just 'wah wah wah! My bottle's empty and my life sucks for it!' and I, for one, am tired of watching you masturbate your misery. You, yourself, have admitted that you earned those tattoos as a punishment and this thing that comes about from them, but you've outright refused to ask 'why'! You'd sooner put the blame on anybody--anything!--that could momentarily divert the responsibility that those symbols have placed squarely on you! But you don't have sense enough to recognize that it's your fault and you need to reign this in and use it for you rather than against the world!
"You'd likely argue that the therion had this coming, right? That him being mean to you had warranted this response, am I right? And don't bother denying it, either, because we both know that I can see into your head plain as day and I don't even need my aura to do it! You're wrong, Zane--no buffers, no complexities, no sympathy; WRONG!!--and I'm tired of you moping around--taking this gift"--she paused long enough to let the word hang in the air to see if we'd try to challenge it again. We didn't--"and all the opportunities that Gregori spread out before you when no one else would even give you a crumpled bill for another drink--and wasting everything it is that the clan--your family!--sees in you!"
We growl and drag our gaze away as best we can despite the auric binds, "He wanted us to forget him…"
Zoey sighs and shakes her head, lowering us slowly to the rooftop and holding our body upright as we fall to our knees. "Is that what you think he wanted?" she steps over us and lays her fingertips on our heaving shoulders, "That he wanted you to forget?"
"He asked us to--"
"I know what he asked, and you, of course, had to see it as nothing more than the bottom of another bottle." She kneels down and brings herself eye-to-eye with us, "But you're failing to see this for the uncorked bottle it really is. His death and his request do not represent the end of Vail's legacy; they represent a new start to something greater." She frowned and stood, casting her gaze towards the sky and sighing. "Times are changing, Zane. Laws are falling through and those that would see our people carouse and rule in anarchy are getting stronger while we hold to protocols and codes that nobody else is willing to abide by." She sighed again, the sadness breaking through as she did, "You remember what they did to the Odin Clan! And for what? So some boy--the innocent son of the Joseph Stryker: one of the greatest clan rulers and warriors this world has ever seen--might not get to where he was? They slaughtered them, Zane! They destroyed our brothers and sisters--their own kind--just to fight a potential risk to their plans to turn us into the monsters the humans already see us as! And through all that"--she looks back down at us--"the Stryker-boy still fights for The Council; with no clan and no path he still fights!" She shakes her head at us and crosses the rooftop to peer over the edge, "I hope you get to meet him someday, Zane…" We look up in time to see her glance back at us with an appalled look on her face, "… so that you can try to tell him to his face how much you've suffered."
"Zoey…"
"You've got two options at this point: either you drag yourself out of the self-inflicted torture chamber you've barricaded yourself inside and honor Gregori's memory by doing as he asked and seeing his life's work not crumble like the Odin Clan and go find his daughter, or you continue as you are and find yourself staring down the receiving end of The Council's barrel." She bites her lip and looks away as the first tear falls from her eye, "I've come to love you like a brother, Zane! We've seen and dealt with a great deal together as members of Gregori's home… but if you don't stop this and I'm given the order, I will not hesitate to kill you!"
Her words hang in the air like a storm cloud and I suddenly don't feel the dark thing anymore. My head goes hollow and numb and my body grows heavy as awareness--true awareness--replaces the illusion that the heightened senses use to control me. After a moment I open my eyes and see my hand for what it's meant to be: my hand.
I've turned back?
But it didn't even--
"I can only do so much for you." Zoey offers me her hand, "But I can do what I can to keep you from hurting."
"Zoey…" I look down sadly, "I'm sorry. I just--"
"Shut up, Zane." She smirks at me and shakes her head, "When will you learn that every trial is not the bottom of the bottle?"
I can't help but smile at the realization that Gregori's death doesn't have to be the death of my reason for living. Besides, if The Clan of Vain's future lies in the hand of his daughter, and he's entrusted me to find her, then…
"He really had faith in me… didn't he?"
Zoey rolls he eyes and scoffs. "You really are a dense one."
Zoey was nice enough to bring me a change of clothes to replace the "no doubt shredded ensemble" that I'd been wearing before I'd lost control. While I'd neglected to tell her that there wasn't much of an "ensemble" left to shred by that point, I was certain she knew nonetheless. Besides, her taste in threads were nicer than anything I could've picked out: a custom-made pair of boots that Gregori had gotten for me and a pair of pants that weren't hanging in tattered shreds--a "bad way to make a first impression with a lady" as she'd put it. She was also nice enough to bring my favorite jacket, but made a note of "forgetting" to pack a shirt.
"That's alright!" She'd perked up as she had tossed me the coat, "You're chest is too yummy to hide, anyway!"
While I hadn't fought the compliment, the fact that my tattoos were showing was a little unnerving.
All-in-all, other than feeling a little exposed, I
trek through the woods towards the bum-fuck cabin nestled like a zit in a plumber's ass-crack in the middle of nowhere. While I'm not sure as to why anybody would want to live out here, Zoey was certain that the information was up-to-date and accurate.
Sure enough, as I cross the threshold and step into the clearing where the cabin--though it looked to me like a glorified outhouse--I spotted light in the windows and the shadow of somebody moving inside.
Hearing the muffled voice of who I could only assume was Gregori's daughter, Serena, I smirk, extending my aura, and prepare to introduce myself…
Preface
“Love is a spirit all compact of fire.”
~William Shakespeare
1
A Scarlet Night
Sensing a powerful energy source approaching, Serena opened the door and stepped out of her cabin and onto the front porch. She stood, scanning through the blackness beyond the trees in an effort to locate the source. A snapping branch sounded to the left and she turned her head towards it right before a flash of light to the right snapped her attention back.
She sneered, “SHIT!”
She shifted on her heels, bracing herself as the bright red blast shot at her and lifted her hands out of reflex. Though the approaching wave was fast, she had more than enough time to throw her aura in front of her in a defensive orb. As the scarlet wave collided with her shimmering purple shield, a violent flash of light illuminated the woods and everything in it.
Except the source of the attack…
Cursing under her breath, Serena jumped from the porch, her aura poised to defend against another attack, and started in the direction of her unwelcome guest. As she crossed the threshold dividing the clearing from the dense forest, she felt a spike of energy and saw a dark blue aura swirl in the distance.
“Stop right there!” A deep male voice called out past the glow.
“Oh? And why should I do that?” Serena asked, doing nothing to mask her snide tone. As the sound of heavy boots on the forest floor advanced, her lip curled at the familiar energy, and she let her aura whip out and tear a portion of a nearby tree trunk as a warning. “Leave now, mister mystery-vamp!”
The intruder growled at her hostility, and the blue aura coiled and spiked with his aggravation. “No! You’re coming with me!” Then, as if as an afterthought, “… Serena.”
“You sound pretty confident there!” she mocked, smiling and licking her parched lips as the smell of fresh blood wafted from the stranger, “Tell me, have you fed from a human? You know that’s a criminal offense, right?” She smirked, “Wouldn’t want to see you fall on the wrong side of our kind’s law.”
“I am our kind’s law!” A roar bellowed from his chest, “And I don’t answer YOUR questions!”
He took one final step towards her, and she fought her body’s urge to swoon. He was gorgeous! His skin, now lit under the glow of the moon, seemed to break through his inky mane, which spilled onto his shoulders. Over his brow was a sharply-contrasting streak of silver hair—like a sliver of moonlight in an otherwise dark sky—that hung over his forehead and between his piercing gaze.
His gaze…
Each of his eyes was unique; a bright and piercing blue on his left and a ghostly pale right that shimmered like a pearl. She grinned as his aura spiked impatiently as she continued to take in the sight.
"Had your fill yet?" He frowned.
"Not just yet," she chuckled, making a show of looking over his form one last time, "But you do seem to be in something of a hurry. Maybe later I’ll let you tie me to the train tracks, eh Snidely?”
“Enough stalling!” He growled, his fists clenching at his sides, “One way or the other you’re coming with me, and. I don’t want to have to hit you,” he narrowed his eyes, “So don’t make me have to!”
Her smile widened and she licked a fang, continuing to undress him with her purple eyes, “Oh you are kinky! I only hope you hit better than your friend throws!” she frowned, wondering where the source of the red aura had gone to. Not wanting to break her composure, she forced a coy smirk and wagged her hips, “Now, if you’ll excuse me"—she smiled and turned her back to him—“I was just about to catch my dinner.”
She felt his icy gaze chill her back and his heavy boots followed, daring her to continue. She rolled her eyes and turned back, lunging at him.
“Enough of this!”
“Wai—”
His speech and his advance ceased as he was taken off guard and she took the opportunity to jump up and shoved both of her high-heeled boots into his chest, rocketing him through the forest and sending him crashing into a nearby willow tree.
She landed with cat-like grace on her feet and began a cocky swagger towards and then past him. His mismatched and bewildered eyes followed her, taking in her teasing wink as she disappeared.
“Dinner time!” she purred.
The city was still several miles south of the cabin she was staying at—or, rather, had been staying at. Now that she’d been found by someone that wanted her she'd have to find a new home.
She sighed, “On the road again…” she shook her head as the vampire’s shocked face bobbed into her mind. “That bastard!”
“You hurt him pretty bad, you know." Devon chided her.
“So you finally decided to come out, huh?" She smiled, not bothering to glance over at her ghostly companion.
The warmth—an ever-constant reminder of his presence—wrapped around her. She exhaled, enjoying the otherworldly embrace for only a moment before looking over at him. Even as a ghost, he retained his beautiful looks; an eternal mirror of how he was—thankfully—before the accident. He smiled warmly at her. Despite everything she’d done to him, he was still so kind to her.
And that hurt more than he knew.
“I'll find a body for you, Devon. I promise.” She said, biting her lip.
“That's not what I said,” his voice hardened.
She nodded, “I know what you said. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to find you a body.”
She had been looking—always had been—but, whenever she found a suitable human body, Devon would always stop their impending deaths and discourage her at the last minute.
“Serena, you know how I feel about that,” Devon said.
She ignored his words. Nothing he’d said or ever could say would sway her. She wanted to feel him again; be able to enjoy his physical embrace and not just some warm air. He was, and always would be, the only one for her. Hell, she’d give up drinking blood and start gagging down that synthetic crap if he asked her to. He was the only one to see her as her true self because she refused to show it to any other.
“Devon, I want to be with you again,” she finally said, stifling her enroaching tears before they could spill down her cheeks. She wouldn’t let him see her cry. She knew how much that hurt him. “To really be with you!”
She paused beside a sapling and enjoyed a cool summer night’s breeze as it wrapped around her, teasing her senses as it mingled with Devon’s warmth.
Devon's unwavering warmth…
No matter what, she knew that he would always be there for her. Not even the fire could stop him from finding his way back to her three years earlier. She looked down and shook her head.
She wanted to fix it…
She wanted to stop it!
Waves of intense heat pushed her back; pushed her away from him. Still down on one knee, Devon was unable to move fast enough to save them both. The hollow, echoing taunt of his offered ring hitting the floor chilled her heart as he stood and planted himself protectively in front of her.
“Serena, I love you, always.”
His last words, spoken moments before the fire had started, were already growing cold with grief as he'd used the last of his strength to push her into the tugging hold of the fleeing crowd. There was no pulling free from the combined force of the group as they unknowingly dragged her out of the ballroom, crying and screaming as the roof collapsed behind her and
taking her happiness with it.
She blinked, still feeling the phantom flames burn through the fabric of time, and wiped away the tears. She couldn't stop them that time around. Not that she wouldn't have tried, but it was useless. When the memory surfaced, her awareness sank. Devon’s aura, knowing and sympathetic, was already wrapped tightly around her. And though it was comforting, it wasn't enough for her.
Approaching footsteps sounded from the clearing and instinctively brought out the fighter in her, the trails of tears drying up on cue.
There, standing and watching her with those wonderfully mismatched eyes, was her attacker.
Though his face didn't show it, his slouched body, weighed down with agony, was in so much pain that it hurt her to see him. Frowning, she looked away, realizing then just how much damage she’d inflicted.
“What do you want?” she made no move to fight, having no strength or desire to do so.
He stayed quiet for a moment and the breeze from earlier came back, colder than before. She frowned at the sudden chill; Devon and his warmth had disappeared, leaving her alone with the vampire.
“I-I… n-need you to come with me,” his voice cracked, and, though Serena wanted to believe it was from the pain she’d dealt him, she could see that it was something else.
Something darker.
And that’s when she noticed that his tattoos were glowing.
For a moment he was silent as he worked to steady his labored breathing, the glow from his tattoos dimming. Then, as the tension in his body melted away, he locked his mismatched eyes on her. “You need to come with me,” he said, “You’ll be safe.”
Despite the confusion she felt from his words—and from the unnerving growl in his voice that carried them—she was surprised to find that she believed him.
Scarlet Night: The Complete Trilogy Page 4
