The Jaded Hunter

by The Jaded Hunter(Lit)

  "I did not ask to be a knight," he said with a grunt. "Though our difference is, I no longer hate myself for being."

  "You can’t hate," she hissed. She was angry. He made her angry. The anger felt good. She embraced it. Lashing out, she said, "At your age, you can feel nothing."

  At that Tyr smiled, a small unhappy smile that seemed to cause his taut face pain. Bitterly, he hissed, "You cannot know what I feel."

  "That is where you are wrong." Jaden didn’t notice that he dared to move closer. Her eyes glared out from beneath silky lashes. Her pale cheeks flushed with red. "It is my curse to feel inside your kind. I felt it since I was a child. But, unlike you, I feel remorse for the endless deaths I can’t stop. You can’t know what it is like to feel the things I do, and with a human heart."

  "Tell me," he demanded coldly. He stirred with an unearthly speed, appearing before her partly dissipated into mist. As he moved, he tore the shirt from his back, revealing his chest. Jaden’s eyes took him in like a drunkard to wine. He was as smooth and glorious as she could’ve ever imaged. His chest stopped before her nose. He was well upon her, blocking the flames with his body as it solidified, towering over her in intimidation, engulfing her with the exhilarating musk of his body. "What do you feel within me?"

  Jaden forced him back with her hands. They fitted neatly inside the unforgiving valleys of his chest. His pale skin was tepid warmth to her darker palms. The texture pressed intimately to her, making her shiver. Tyr proudly held still. She closed her eyes, searching with every fiber to see what she could find. Trembling, her fingers brushed over his heart. It pounded even and strong, willing hers to make time. As she concentrated, her heart picked up his beat until they were one. She searched him, every crevice he allowed her. His soul was a blank void, a blackened pit of unemotional depths. Glancing up at him, she replied darkly, "Like I said, nothing. You are hollow."

  "You’re sure of that?"

  "Yes." Her breath came harder to her, partly due to his nearness, partly due to the energy it took to search him so deeply. "I’m sure."

  Even as she said the words, she wished they weren’t true. Within a flash, his hand moved, striking out faster than she could predict. His nail slashed against his chest, drawing a thin line of blood before she managed to blink. Jaden gasped. His hand caught hers before she could pull away. He held her fast in his tight grip.

  "There are no sureties, dhampir," he whispered. Then, slowly so that her eyes could watch, he lifted his other hand to the back of her head. His eyes bore into her, mesmerizing her with his will. "If I have learned anything in an eternity, it is that."

  Jaden knew what he was doing. He was giving her a look inside himself with the taste of his ancient blood. She tried to resist, but his pull on her was too strong. His will overpowered hers. Weakly, she was forced forward. Closing her eyes, she hesitated.

  "Open your mouth, dhampir," he ordered. Jaden couldn’t stop herself. She obeyed. A frail sound escaped Tyr. He pulled her into his chest, folding his arms around her trembling form. Her slight body became engulfed in the volumes of his hold. Jaden’s lips touched cooling flesh. The steady beat of a heart met her in confident strokes. With a rough growl, he hoarsely commanded her, "Taste."

  Instantly, her tongue darted out to lick him in a long sure line over the gash. She didn’t stop to think that it was blood she took like wet silk into her mouth. She didn’t think to disobey. In fact, she didn’t think at all--only saw what he willed her to see.

  Within him she felt more controlled emotion and power than she had ever felt in her short life. She felt decades of turmoil, peace, understanding, regret. She detected the effects of a human life, repeated endlessly throughout time and age. She had been very wrong. Tyr was not emotionless. He felt a great deal. He suffered a great deal.

  The overwhelming pull was more than she could bear. If she was wrong about him then what about the others? Had her whole life been built on a lie? Tearing herself away, she kept her eyes closed. She didn’t want to face the pain of the next heartbeat. Throatily, she muttered, "Kill me."

  Tyr pulled back, dropping his hold. The wound on his chest sealed shut, leaving only the smallest smears of blood from her lips. Her reaction confused him. "Why? Because I have proven you wrong?"

  "No, because I am tired of living. I don’t want to see or feel anymore of you or your damned kind. I want rest." Jaden hid her thoughts from him. She couldn’t tell him that his feelings only compounded her regret and guilt over the life she had lived. She felt other things in him, other damning truths she couldn’t longer deny. Her uncle used her to kill for his own gain. He had tricked her. In some ways she had suspected it for a long time, but she never stopped, never dared to question. And was Mack’s kind of evil any less horrible than those he condemned to death?

  At one time she had thought she understood her place, had known the path she was to follow. It was simple then. She was ridding the world of evil and in doing so the personal sacrifices she had to make were worth it. But since then she learned that life wasn’t simply black or white, good or evil. The truth of the reality was still staining her lips, rolling saltily in her mouth. It was in the long history of his blood.

  Weakly, Jaden touched her bottom lip. Tyr didn’t need the mark to brand her. Even if he released her from his binding, he would still haunt her. She would never be free of him, of what he showed her. The truth pounded in her bloodstream, swirled dangerously in her head. Now that she felt the full force of what he was, she would never be able to get the purity of emotion--raw and unfettered--out of her head or her soul.

  The hunt was over for her. Everything she touched had been a lie. She no longer knew if she could trust her emotions or her inherent senses. Jaden felt the strings of her heart pull violently. A pain seared out from the organ, flooding her body. Lowering her head, she was ashamed. The long line of destruction she wrought weighed heavily upon her. She no longer knew if she punished the right vampires. Maybe they didn’t need punishing at all. But of one thing she was certain. She would never hunt again. And if she wasn’t a hunter, she was nothing.

  Tyr felt the outpouring of her soul, flowing over to his like a blast of a desert storm. He knew her self-torment, her grief. But he was ill fitted to comfort her. For all his years on the earth, he’d forgotten the ability to express tender sentiment with words. His hand trembled. He saw a tear brim her lashes. It didn’t fall. She refused to cry. His arm lowered, uncertain. Then all of a sudden the feelings hammering from her stopped. Her shoulder’s no longer shook. Her breath became deep and even.

  Tyr’s gaze swung up to face her. Her emotions were calm and cold. Jaden’s eyes pierced him with dangerous accuracy. A slow cryptic smile found her features.

  "What?" Tyr hesitated.

  "I want to fight," she answered in a low tone. It was all she knew. It was the only thing she had left that was hers. Lowering her chin, her eyes bore forward. Her hands lifted from her side. She backed away from him, stealthily moving with the deadly intent of a fourteenth century ninja. "I need to fight you."

  Tyr cocked his head to the side in question, not moving from his spot. Only his eyes deigned it necessary to follow her. And then, seeing her face struggling for control, he understood.

  "I need to hit something," she murmured quietly. "I challenge you, Tyr of the Dark Knights. I challenge--"

  "I won’t kill you," he set forth. He couldn’t kill her and not only because it was the order of the council. His voice sounded indifferent and bored, but Jaden could tell otherwise. She felt otherwise inside. With the single taste, he had opened the dam between them. It wouldn’t be so easy to close. As she circled around him, eyeing him from head to toe, he was forced to turn his head to watch her approach from his other side.

  "Fine," she expressed, getting ready to attack. Fighting was the one thing she knew how to do. It was the one thing solid she could face and cling to. And if she must feel pain, then let it be physical. Scowling in grim determination, she charge
d forward, yelling, "You might not be able to kill me, Tyr, but don’t hold back."

  Chapter Nine

  Two and a half hours passed with the slinging of fists, the darting of hands, the cracking of flesh against bruised flesh. Feet kicked, bodies arced, arms and legs soared. Little breaks were taken between bouts, Tyr allowing Jaden to catch her breath as they discussed technique in a most business-like fashion. Jaden once mentioned swords, but Tyr denied her request. He didn’t have two of anything and he wasn’t sure it was in his best interest to give a legendary vampire hunter a blade.

  Jaden’s breath came in ragged pants and sweat beaded her flushed skin. She could feel her heart pounding so hard against her back that her whole body shook with the force of it. Every muscle in her body was fatigued, bruises were starting to form on her skin, she ached in ways she never dreamt possible, and she’d never felt better in her life. With a deep sigh, she eyed the iron chandelier from the flat of her back.

  Tyr leaned over her, his mouth pressed in quizzical worry. His blonde hair fell forward framing his devilishly handsome face. His skin was slightly flushed from the sparring, but he didn’t have breath and his lungs didn’t gasp or tire as hers did.

  "Did I hurt you?" he asked at length, referring to his last defensive move that sent her flying to the floor. He hid his smile. For a mortal, she was well trained. Tyr reached out his hand to her. Jaden ignored it, rolling onto her side. She shot him an unexpected smile before pushing to her hands and knees.

  "Where did you study?" she huffed, pulling back on her haunches. She peeled her sweaty hair off her forehead, throwing it back to look at him.

  "Everywhere," he answered, drawing his rejected hand back from her.

  Jaden chuckled. A sense of comradeship overcame her. For a moment, she allowed herself to forget who he was. She forgot about the vampire council, her impending trial. They were just two people trapped in a cave, sparring.

  Tyr heard her laughter, free of mocking and bitterness. It struck a chord deep within. He held onto that laughter, capturing it in his memory, hoping to never let it go or let it fade. But, given enough time, he knew that would become dim as everything in his life must. Its memory would distort until it wasn’t real but an imagined realness. He would forget the lines of her face when she smiled, and beyond that, he might even forget her name. Suddenly, their time together seemed too brief--her mortality too short. He didn’t want to forget, didn’t want to lose another memory to his eternity. The realization stung--a deep, wretched ache that bittered the taste in his mouth and soured the calmness of his stomach.

  Jaden’s smile faltered, disappearing as she watched for his answer expectantly. She couldn’t feel the sadness in him, though there were other things she tried her best to ignore. At last, he broke the uneasy silence.

  "All knights were trained for hundreds of years. At first we studied with humans, learning of martial arts, weaponry, warfare, books, languages, cultures." He shrugged, leaning leisurely against the back of the couch. "As our skills grew, we studied with the council."

  "Oh," her expression wavered as she thought of the legendary tribal council. Jaden had always been aware of their existence, even when a young child. When other children got sweet tales of fairies and dream worlds, she got a lesson in horror and madness, descriptions of torture devices and the hell their world could be. It wasn’t Mack’s fault. He did his best by her. Even without his bedtime stories, she would’ve known the truth of it. She could feel the silent spider-like strand of fear the vampiric elders instilled inside their benighted children. It was like a part of nature, holding the dark world together. It was a dark fairytale told and retold, distorted and changed, forever real and true. But never did she feel so close to meeting the council as she did now. Part of her never imagined that the day would come--all of her had prayed that it wouldn’t, all of her knew that it would.

  "What about before?" Jaden moved to lean next to him. She rolled her head on her neck, taking one last deep breath as she calmed. "What about your human life? Do you remember it at all?"

  "As a human, I was a great warrior. I fought in many battles under King Guthrum." Tyr became lost in thought. It was so long ago, none of the ideals he had clung to even mattered anymore. Most humans didn’t even know of the old king.

  "And he was a Viking?"

  "A Dane, yes," he answered.

  "Did he win?" she wondered aloud, enthralled with his voice as he spoke his tale.

  "Yes and then no. He was defeated by King Alfred of Wessex. A treaty was signed and he was given what was then referred to as the Danelaw."

  "And that was…?"

  "In Britain."

  "I couldn’t imagine such a life. I don’t think I would’ve done very well in it," she murmured. Realizing what she said, she blushed.

  "Ach, nay, m’lady. ‘Tis a fine Dane ye wouldst have made," he murmured in the soft Norse burr of his mortal youth. Tyr winked at her, an incorrigible act that warred with the undead of his gaze. Turning to the side, he leaned his hip to the back of the couch and faced her. "Methinks ye wouldst have been the prize o’ the battle, after we conquered yer people, that is."

  Jaden’s blush deepened, but she couldn’t look away. "It’d be something to see, I give you that. All you barbarians dressed in tunics--"

  "--yelling to Odin--" he added.

  "--brandishing your broadsword in long swings to hack off the heads of your enemies, sticking them with your anlace, and then finishing off the wounded with the humane misericord," Jaden finished with a wrinkle to her nose.

  Tyr eyed her. She almost seemed relaxed. The tension eased from her body as she spoke of weaponry and battles. He saw the interest in her eyes and felt the excitement in her limbs. This was no usual woman. But, then, he had known that from the beginning. Had he known the secret to unlocking her, he would’ve beaten on her a long time ago.

  "Ye know yer weaponry, m’lady," he nodded in approval.

  "Though, being a woman," she put in wryly. "I would probably never have seen such a thing from the right end. I’d be at home with twelve brats, sleeping with the livestock."

  "Not you. You would be a noblewoman, married to a great king."

  Jaden swallowed nervously and she looked away. A noblewoman? It wasn’t likely. There was nothing noble about who she was.

  "Would you like to see it?" he asked carefully, almost shyly.

  "What?" she turned to face him in confusion.

  "It won’t be real, but it will feel real if you let it."

  "What?"

  "I can show you a bit of the past. Just a glimpse, a feel," he turned to her. "When the Dark Knights were made, we were turned by our tribal leader and thus we belonged to that certain tribe, but we were also given the blood of each leader during the rebirth. It strengthened our power and our bond. But it also gave a few of us some additional gifts, if you will."

  Jaden had never heard of such a thing. She blinked heavily, waiting for him to continue. Her limbs shook and she wasn’t sure she could believe him. But every sense she had said he was telling the truth.

  "I can go into a trance and remember my human past--a field, a hall filled with my people, riding atop my horse beside a castle. Other memories are vaguer. It is what has kept me sane over the years, kept me connected. We all must find ways to stay connected." Tyr swallowed visibly. He had never shown anyone before. He had never told such personal details of his human past. No one had ever asked. Almost timidly, he took up her hand. "Come on."

  Jaden followed before shrinking back in uncertainty. "No, I shouldn’t--"

  "You’ll be safe. It is only in my mind," he whispered. "I give you my word that I’ll let no harm befall you."

  "But--"

  "And I promise not to pry into your thoughts just this once, if that is what concerns you. No tricks, just a glimpse." Tyr turned, pulling her toward his bed. He wanted her to trust him--needed her to. Only then could they find their way out of the clutter of deceit between them.

>   "Where--?" she asked, but didn’t finish . Jaden’s insides shook. As he held her hand in his cool grip, pulling her behind him, the vulnerability glowing gently in his eyes, he almost felt like a real man.

  "It’s best if we lay down. That way, if we fall from a horse or jump from the edge of a castle we won’t actually fall." His voice was soft and persuasive. His eyes glimmered ever so slightly.

  Tyr led her to the bed. Stopping, he turned to her and motioned her onto the mattress.

  "I should clean up." She protested weakly, trying to pull back. He refused to let her go. "I’m sweating."

  "You’ll be fine," he promised, coming close. The back of his hand touched her cheek, the long nails grazing past her temple, down her jaw. His gaze shifted and glowed in the dim light, seeming to whisper, Lie down. Trust me.

  Jaden nervously crawled onto the bed and faced him. Tyr came over her with the stalking grace of a beast after its prey. His teeth glinted sharply as his mouth parted. His fingernails dug like claws into the bedding. His head fell to the side, drawing his hair gently over his sinewy shoulders so the strands reached to touch her.

  Jaden was forced to lie down so that their bodies wouldn’t touch. Her arms trembled and weakened, as they lay helpless at her sides. Her heart fluttered faster than the thumping wings of a hummingbird--beating in her chest, her throat. The sound echoed in her head. She knew he could hear it.

  Tyr looked down at her body nestled beneath his on his mattress. It beckoned him, warm and inviting and very much alive. He was so cool compared to it.

  "Close your eyes," he ordered in a husky murmur. Jaden obeyed. Her limbs were weak from their sparring and her body throbbed with unfulfilled needs. The mattress was chilly against her back, warring with the heat of her skin. The softness of it nestled beneath her like a cloud.

  She peeked up at him. His chest was bare, unmarred and perfect, ashen and smooth. When his eyes looked into her, she felt as if he really looked, as if he saw her for who she was and accepted it. She wanted to believe that he understood. But deep inside, she knew what he was. She knew that there could never be anything between them. Their worlds wouldn’t accept it. Her eyes drifted closed once more.