Runner: Book II of The Chosen

by Roh Morgon

  The hallway door opens and a dark-haired young woman enters, followed closely by the first Chosen who’d met me at the club entrance. His large hand engulfs her slender arm as he ushers her in.

  “Oh, yes. Dinner time. Come here, tender one.” Leandro reaches out toward her.

  Eyes big, she glances first at her escort then at Leandro. She doesn’t even seem to notice me standing there with my hands wrapped around the revolver. The Chosen gently pushes her forward and releases her arm. She tentatively walks up to Leandro.

  His eyes crimson, he arches his eyebrows and looks at me as he reaches out to gather her to him. Still watching me, he strokes her hair, then bends to nuzzle it.

  “Are you ready for me?” he whispers to her as he smiles at me.

  She nods. He snugs her up to his waist and turns for the bedroom door.

  “Steven will see you out. And don’t forget the phone number.”

  The one he didn’t even have to look up before he wrote it down.

  The BMW races along its familiar route up the Ute Pass, but I drive right on past my old house. It holds too many memories that haven’t even had time to dull. I shut off the longing for that simple life I’d tasted and continue up the highway.

  The dirt road to the lake is muted in the darkness that seems to be celebrating the absence of the moon. I pull off onto the shoulder, park, and open the trunk.

  Once in my hunting clothes, I feel an overwhelming sense of relief. I’ve had enough of The Chosen world and am more than ready for the one I know best.

  The hunter inside me whines, eager for the wind in her hair and the smell of the pines, and the uncomplicated life of stalk, chase, kill, sleep. I close my eyes and remember my time in the mountains, and part of me wishes I’d never come back from the wild. Then I would’ve been spared.

  Spared from the shrapnel of a dream exploding into a million pieces, a dream I thought I’d finally embraced, as it embraced me. As he . . . embraced me.

  I gratefully hand control over to the hunter and the beast. Moving into the trees, I break into a run.

  CHAPTER 19

  The early afternoon sun is beating down, warming the steps I’m standing on. The sound of the doorbell reaches my ears for the second time as I stare at the ornate raven crest on the door. Finally hearing soft footfalls crossing the foyer, I step back as the front door opens.

  “Mademoiselle!” Marie’s blue eyes light up, then dim with disappointment as she peers past me.

  The beast takes in her scent and begs to be set loose, craving this blood it’s had before.

  But another scent drifts out the door. His scent. I step back again as I steady myself not to fall apart.

  “Hello, Marie,” I manage to say, genuinely glad to see her. She’s always been gracious and kind to me, and besides Alfonso, the only acquaintance of Nicolas’s who’s never felt threatening.

  Of course, the fact that Marie and Alfonso are human has a lot to do with that.

  “Mademoiselle, I’m so glad to see you, if you don’t mind me saying so.” Her polite French accent is accompanied by a shy bow and curtsy.

  My wonder at where on earth Nicolas found this pretty, innocent creature is surpassed by my amazement that she’s managed to stay this way, in spite of her employer and his circle of deadly friends.

  “Marie, it’s good to see you. Is Nicolas here?” I ask, though I can feel he’s not.

  Her eyes fill with tears and she turns her head as she wipes them away.

  “No, mademoiselle. He is… gone.” Her voice breaks as she looks back at me with sorrow etched across her face. “I had hoped he was with you.”

  Unprepared for her reaction, I look away, fighting the building pressure in my eyes with everything I’ve got. It finally eases, and I turn back to face Marie.

  “When did he leave?” The tremble in my voice is something I can’t hide.

  “Sometime between midnight Sunday and Monday morning when I arose and… and discovered that he was no longer here…”

  Today’s Wednesday. Two-and-a-half days. That’s all I missed him by.

  Nicolas…

  Clenching my jaw, I brace myself for the answer to my next question.

  “Can you tell me what happened when he left?” I can only hope that Éva’s assault on Nicolas happened at the club. I can’t imagine the trauma Marie must have endured if it happened here. She’s very fond of her employer.

  “Ah.” She pauses as she wars against her strict servant training. I can see her struggling with what to tell me. I patiently wait.

  “Yes, as much as I know. Please, come in,” she says, nodding.

  Marie opens the door wider and I step inside. She closes it behind me and I follow her to the library door, leashing the beast tightly as her scent drifts behind her. She stops and turns to me.

  “Would mademoiselle like some hot tea?” she asks, sticking to her comfortable role as servant.

  “Only if you’ll have some with me.”

  She smiles and curtsies, then heads down the hall to the kitchen.

  Relieved by her absence, at least for the moment, I slowly savor the smell of him that is woven tightly through his house. A dim echo of his blood, it fills me as his essence once filled me. I fight to keep the emptiness in my core from ripping open.

  But shock tears a gaping hole in it—in the deepest part of me—when I walk into the library.

  Everything in here is draped in white sheets—the books in their floor-to-ceiling cases as well as all the furniture. The room is dark, almost black, hidden from the sun by thick burgundy draperies.

  Gone… Marie said he was gone, but that word didn’t mean much until now.

  Walking through the ghosts of the room, in my mind’s eye I can see the ghosts of those who lived and visited here. Ghosts of my life.

  I’m startled as everything brightens from the light of the overhead chandelier, then realize that Marie has come into the room. She looks at me, eyes filled with grief, one that likely mirrors my own. Walking over to a table, she sets down the tea tray.

  “I am sorry, mademoiselle. I should have prepared the room first.” She steps over to the windows and draws back the drapes. Sunlight bounces in, breaking the morose darkness.

  The mythical creatures in the garden beckon me to the window, their leaves and vines softly waving in the mild breeze. But their mood seems somber as they consider their fate without their master. I find myself fighting back tears once again as I watch them.

  I listen as Marie removes the sheets from the upholstered chairs and their table behind me. She pours the tea and the scent of fresh-brewed Darjeeling wafts through the air. The porcelain cups softly clink as she sets them on the table. She then goes still, apparently waiting for me.

  Breaking my own stillness, I turn and flash a grim smile at her, then sit in one of the chairs. She hesitates and I gesture to the one on the other side of the table. She gingerly sits down on its edge and looks up at me, her blue eyes wide.

  Pushing one of the cups closer to her, I pick up the other and sip the steaming tea. She takes her cup and saucer and holds them as she turns her gaze out the window.

  “The last night that I saw you, Mr. Ambrus came home very upset. I do not believe I have ever seen him so, uh, how do you say, distraught. I heard him upstairs in his bedroom. He, ah, was… I’ve never heard such sounds from someone. I could hear him pacing back and forth, and things breaking, and the sounds he was making…”

  Horrified, I set down my tea, get up, and walk to the window.

  Oh, Nicolas, how could I have done this to you, to us? Is one life truly worth the destruction of so many others?

  The unstoppable tears course down my face as I stare out at the garden.

  “Mr. Ambrus left a little while later. He came back after dawn and went back up to his room. I did not hear anything more from him. That evening I asked him through the door if he needed anything. He told me that he did not wish to be disturbed and that it would be best if I st
ayed in my quarters. He did not leave his room for the next few days that I know of.” Marie’s voice sounds distant as she continues.

  “I believe it was early Thursday when Mesdemoiselles Basarab and Dăneşti and Monsieur Williams arrived. I think the others must have arrived throughout the day. I’m not sure, because Johan told me that Mr. Ambrus requested I stay in my quarters with the door locked and not to come out until I was told. I was very worried for Mr. Ambrus and wished to check on him, but I stayed in my room.”

  I listen as she picks up her cup and takes a sip, then another. Setting the cup back onto the saucer, she takes a big breath and starts again. There is now a distinct tremble in her voice.

  “That evening I became more worried when I heard shouting and crashing sounds from upstairs. It sounded like several of them were up there. I could hear Mr. Ambrus yelling at them to leave, and a little while later they all came downstairs. They went into the main dining hall and started arguing again very loudly. Mr. Ambrus was with them because I could hear his voice, too.”

  Marie pauses and a sob escapes. My chest tightens and I clench my jaw to keep from echoing it.

  “I started to unlock my door, but Johan was outside and told me not to unlock it under any circumstances. I asked if I should call the police, even though Mr. Ambrus has strict instructions never to do so. He said no. He sounded very upset and said he would go check on Mr. Ambrus.

  “It was quiet for a few minutes, but then the fighting started. It sounded like a pack of wild dogs, and I could hear furniture breaking, and shouting, and Mr. Ambrus…”

  Her voice breaks and she starts weeping quietly. I hug myself as I silently cry with her.

  “After a while the fighting stopped. I could hear someone crying, one of the women I think. It was quiet after that, though sometimes I could hear their voices.” She pauses.

  “They were here for three days. Most of the time they stayed in the dining hall, but I did hear the front door open occasionally. I listened for Mr. Ambrus, but I never heard him. I was so worried for him. And I was very frightened for myself.” Marie finishes in a whisper.

  Poor thing. She must’ve been terrified, expecting one of those monsters to come through her door at any moment.

  “It must have been around midnight Sunday when I heard them leave. I waited awhile to be sure they were all gone, then came out of my room. I started to open the door to the dining hall, but Mr. Ambrus yelled at me from inside the room not to. I asked him if he was all right, if there was anything he needed me to do. He said he was fine and that I was to go back to my quarters and stay there until morning. I did as he asked.

  “But, mademoiselle, he did not sound fine. He sounded tired and… old. I don’t know what they did to him, but it was… bad.”

  Though her story is tearing me apart, I breathe a small sigh of relief to hear that Éva hadn’t lied and Nicolas did survive having his lineage stripped from him.

  “The next morning, I checked the dining hall to see if Mr. Ambrus was still there. It looked like a… battleground. Most of the furniture, including the banquet table, was broken and smashed. And there was blood everywhere. I then went upstairs and knocked on Mr. Ambrus’s door. He didn’t answer.”

  Marie stops speaking and takes several breaths. Her voice cracks when she begins again.

  “When I went into the kitchen, I found an envelope for me. It contained instructions to close up the main part of the house. Mr. Ambrus said that he would no longer need my services, but that I was welcome to continue to live here. He left a similar letter for Alfonso. And he left one for you. I’ll put it on the table.”

  A letter for me?

  She stands and I can feel her looking at me. I don’t dare turn my blood-streaked face to her, so I continue to stare out the window. She waits a moment, then leaves the room and closes the door.

  Sobs rip out of my throat and I wrap my arms tightly around myself, terrified of the letter and what it might or might not contain. Moments pass, one after another, and the letter behind me begins to loom larger and larger, like some monstrosity waiting to pounce. If I don’t look at it, then maybe it doesn’t exist and all possibilities will still be possible. But once I read it, I can’t unread it, and my future will be limited by what it says.

  With crimson tears streaming down my face, I turn to the table and pick up the envelope. My name is on the front in his elegant handwriting, and I hug this small shred of him against my breast. Fingers trembling, I then turn it over, carefully open it, and unfold the letter.

  My dearest Sunshine,

  The fact that you are reading this confirms that it was indeed necessary for me to write it.

  It seems I am forever apologizing to you for my actions, as my judgment regarding you appears to be eternally impaired.

  But this will be the final time.

  I need to explain our last evening together. I do not expect forgiveness, but wish only that you forgive yourself.

  As you may have surmised, Dominic was being groomed to join The Chosen. He was quite promising at first and we were eagerly anticipating his Change. His talents and assets would have been a valuable addition to our lineage.

  But as his education progressed, we began to see his darker side, one that was quite sadistic. I will not tolerate mistreatment of the donors who sustain us, so he was deemed to be unsuitable.

  Unfortunately, he knew too much of us and was proving to be difficult to manage. His potential exposure of our society, combined with the possibility of defecting to our enemies, left us with only one option.

  As head of the lineage, it is my responsibility to carry out such decisions. However, I delayed doing so, and the problem escalated.

  Desperation with the circumstances between you and me drove me to make one of the worst decisions of my existence. I knew Dominic’s brutality would emerge when faced with a strong female, so it seemed he was the perfect candidate for you to complete your Change. I felt that you would bear little regret over the destruction of one who was so callous and cruel.

  But once again I underestimated you. Your commitment to your humanity and the value you place on life is beyond anything I seem able to comprehend.

  I have deeply wronged you by placing you in such a situation. That you stopped at the point you did demonstrates your uncanny will and advanced evolution.

  You did not kill Dominic. That was my doing, and mine alone.

  You are one of the strongest beings I have ever encountered, and I feel humbled to have known you.

  But I am also ashamed. Ashamed that I attempted to force you to compromise your beliefs.

  Worse yet, I violated the sacrosanct rule of my lineage. I took away your Choice.

  I am not worthy of one such as you.

  Your last memory of me, of the monster that I truly am, should tell you how right you were to run, to get as far from me as possible.

  Your only mistake in this was coming back here.

  As my last gesture of goodwill to you, I am protecting you from the consequences of that poor decision.

  It is with great regret that I must say goodbye.

  Do not attempt to find me. In this, I promise, you will not succeed.

  ~Nicolas~

  Panic begins pummeling every cell in my body, and the black abyss in my core tears open wider and starts to engulf me, swallowing me from the inside out. My veins burst into flame as I slowly sink into a fiery hell of loss and regret.

  Oh, Nicolas… Nicolas, what have I done?

  Nicolas . . .

  CHAPTER 20

  Pikes Peak towers in the night sky above, and the black lake below is a dim reflection of the bottomless one inside me. The one that has devoured my soul, leaving me nothing more than an empty shell.

  The breezes up here at the top of the rocky outcrop try to lure me from my catatonic state, sending tendrils of scent to tease and tempt the huntress. But she has disappeared deep within, hiding as she mourns the loss of her mate. I am left with only the mani
acal beast and my own desolate thoughts under the dark moonless sky.

  I think back to the night Nicolas and I sat here watching the moon sparkle on the lake’s surface of water and ice. The Peak, silently watching us, reminded me so much of him as the moonlight danced across its snow-covered flanks, like it danced across his pale skin.

  It was the night I discovered another spirit who understood me, who I could share my darkest secrets with. It was the night I got my first glimpse into The Chosen world, one to which I thought I could belong. Nicolas’s description of the Change, of how it’s offered only to those who want it, and how they are cared for during and after, led me to believe I had finally found my place in the world. For if blood-drinking creatures were capable of that kind of compassion, then perhaps I wasn’t the monster I believed I was, that there was still hope for me.

  But it all proved to be a lie. Or was it? Was I only seeing what I wanted to see and ignoring the obvious—that these are creatures who feed on people, who view human beings as nothing more than pleasure toys and cattle?

  As for my gentlemanly, kind and caring Nicolas, who treated his servants almost as his children, who cared for the well-being of his donors… that he would turn out to be the biggest monster of all as he ripped the veil of illusion from my eyes has been the most difficult part of this to comprehend.

  The Chosen. Their world that I thought I could be part of is even more removed from me now than the human one. My apparent foreignness triggers an instinctive hostility in them that I was completely unprepared for. I’m still having trouble grasping how weak and vulnerable I am among them. Without Nicolas’s protection, I stand little chance of survival in their competitive society. Éva and Leandro demonstrated that perfectly well. And Leandro… I doubt that he would’ve let me leave without Éva’s decree otherwise. I shudder as I contemplate how long he would’ve kept me around until he grew bored and ended me. A “long time” has an altogether different meaning when spoken by an immortal.