The Guardian saw me enter the kitchen, eyes widening.
Crixis stopped and turned, tossing a look over his shoulder as blood dripped from his mouth. His eyes were an ugly red. “Ah, hello there, old friend.” He jostled Koath like he was a puppet, and Koath was too old and tired to fight back. Or, perhaps, he’d been compelled not to. “Care for a bite? That vegan diet you’re on, while I understand is all the rage, can’t be healthy for you. An old being like yourself, well, you need nourishment.”
I could only imagine what Kass would feel if she saw this scene.
“Let him go, Crixis,” I stated evenly, fists clenching on my sides.
When he gave me a smile, I knew then that it was over.
One hand held Koath’s jaw while the other dug into the holes his teeth had made on his neck. “No,” Crixis whispered, literally tearing Koath’s throat open before I could flash and stop him.
Even with my speed, it was pointless. I couldn’t stop him. Crixis was always faster than me. By the time I reached Koath, his neck was gruesomely torn, his throat bare. Tendons constricted and blood sprayed my face. “No,” I echoed Crixis for an entirely different reason.
Crixis stepped back, watching as I caught Koath’s body before it hit the ground.
Eyes widening, Koath opened his mouth to speak. He stared straight at me as the blood gurgled in his open throat. His tongue was visible, part of his esophagus gone. He tried desperately to speak, to say something, but was unable. His eyes glazed over, his breathing stopped. There was so much blood.
Crixis disappeared as I set Koath down, moved away from his body, letting his blood flow freely on the kitchen floor. “You’re a monster,” I said, hearing an old song begin playing from the other room.
“I know,” he mused, situating himself with a cookbook at the kitchen table. “And, honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He was a single page into the book when he stopped to look at me. There was no judgement in his eyes, which had returned to their hazel hue. “How else does one make eternal life fun?”
“By not murdering innocents. By doing quite literally anything else,” I shouted, standing, flashing beside him. My fist was raised. “Eternal life does not give you a free pass to do as you wish!”
My risen fist would not move. Crixis slowly stood, standing a few inches taller than me. He studied my stance, my priest’s uniform, growing disgusted. “Lower that hand,” he demanded, and in spite of all that I was, all that I stood for, my fist dropped to my side. He stepped closer to me, backing me to the wall. “Answer me honestly, Raphael. Do you think you’re better than me?”
“Yes,” I spat, willing my body to fight, but it was useless.
“You’re a fool. To them—” Crixis motioned to Koath. “—we’re all the same. Demons. Unholy creatures who need purifying. You preach and you teach the young Purifiers, but if they knew what you really were, they’d end you. Somehow, someway, you’d be nothing.” He snickered. “You’re pathetic. And to think, when I watched you burn Leliana, I thought I’d have a worthy apprentice. Who would’ve known how pathetic you’d turn out to be.” His gaze stared holes through me, digging up memories that I’d desperately wanted to forget.
“No,” I hissed through bared teeth. Images of Leliana overtook me. Her beauty, her grace, how we strolled through town, oblivious to the world. I’d never known love until I kissed her in that rose garden. For the first time in my life, I’d felt human. I’d wanted to be human.
Then fires dominated my brain. Her screams of agony. It could’ve ended in a much better way, and yet I gave in to my urges. I wanted her to pay.
I pulled my knees in, wishing the images away. My eyes squeezed shut. By the time I’d come to, Kass was there, perched on the kitchen table, ready to fight Crixis. And then he called attention to me and vanished. Suddenly I was hauled to my feet, a stake lifted against me, Kass’s accusations flying.
What could I have possibly said to her to make it okay? Nothing. There was nothing I could say but “I tried” and “I am so sorry” and various things. My mind was befuddled, my brain confused. When she asked me a loaded question, I didn’t have an answer for her. I simply repeated what I’d said, or some form of it, and opened a rift behind me, falling back into the church. The rift closed before she could follow.
I fell on the steps of the altar. I turned, facing the broken statue of the cross and Jesus Christ. Gazing up at the statue, I asked a single question: “Why?” The word meant so much more than it sounded.
Why have you abandoned me? Why was I lead astray? Why am I still alive?
“Why?” I grew angry, tugging at the collar around my neck. It suddenly grew too tight. Too stifling. I tore the white cloth from my neck, tossing it at the foot of the statue. “I am no priest.” Soon I tore off the black shirt, throwing it in much the same way.
“Clearly, you’re not a man, either,” a voice behind me spoke.
“Leave, Crixis,” I hissed without turning around.
“Or what? You’ll brood some more?” He chuckled. “I do have to say, that was getting old, buddy.”
I tentatively reached for the golden amulet on my chest. Its metal was cold and hard on my bare skin. I slowly lifted the chain from my neck, dropping it on the floor as I turned to face him. “I am done brooding.”
Crixis gave me a slow, overly dramatic clap. “Oh, good. Please tell me I don’t have to take my shirt off as well. Frankly, I don’t think the world could handle that much homoeroticism, especially in a church.”
Within a flash, I punched him square in the jaw, sending him backwards, breaking a few pews along the way.
He spoke with a gleeful smile, “You always knew how to throw a punch.” Lifting his hands, he gestured for me to continue. “Now show me your teeth. Let them out. I’m sure they’re dying after being hidden for so long.”
He wanted my teeth. And he was going to get them.
All the years of hiding, all the years of hating myself and regretting what I had done, what I’d become, it all washed away at that moment. I was done with it all.
Fangs sprouted, teeth sharpening into a greater Vampire bite. Through the transformation, my eyes remained their vibrant green, a call to what I was, before I was turned. I’d chosen my own name after the God who healed. I was a pathetic excuse of a man, of a Purifier. I only put shame on the Archangel’s name, for the name Raphael never belonged to me.
I had no name.
“This is what I wanted for you all along,” Crixis exclaimed. “This! Be free with what you are, my friend. Let the world cower. We are strength incarnate. Even Purifiers are nothing when compared to us. Your bloodline is my own, so let it show!” His grin infuriated me.
I was before him in a Vampiric flash, my hands around his neck. He didn’t stop me, even as I shouted, “I never wanted this—”
Even though I choked him with inhuman strength, Crixis acted as if I were a fly, swatting me off effortlessly. “Do you think that I asked for this? Do you think that I wanted this?” He frowned at me, catching one of my thrown punches and kicking me hard in the stomach. “I had a life. I had a village. You stupid thing! We’re never given what we want. We take—” He kicked me, landing his foot on my nose. Blood squirted from me. “—what we—” I managed a blow to his side, temporarily knocking the air from his lungs. “—can get.” He hoisted me up and threw me toward the back of the church.
My body collided with the cross, breaking the already cracked Jesus statue into multiple pieces. I laid there for a while, not moving to get to my feet right away.
“I know what you want now, though,” Crixis continued, flashing beside me. “I can’t blame you. I wouldn’t mind turning her, too.” A loud whack echoed throughout the air as part of the cross impaled his stomach. He was merely inconvenienced, pulling the big chunk that I threw out and dropping it on the floor.
“I would never,” I stated, baring my sharp teeth, finally standing.
“Maybe you wouldn’t turn her. But yo
u’ve thought about other things, haven’t you? Some very immoral, despicable, animalistic things.” There was a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “Don’t deny it.”
“I did not deny it,” I whispered lowly. “Simply because my thoughts wander does not mean that I would.”
“Give in to the sinful, lustful, depraved act?” Crixis offered with a grin. “Why not? If you showed her your true strength, she couldn’t stop you.” His penetrable gaze forced images in my head.
Images of Kass helpless, of her beneath me. My hands around her throat, her hands tied. My hungry mouth on every inch of her body. The noises she’d make when I…
“Get out of my head,” I said, trying to fight the images. In spite of what I’d said, there was a certain appeal to them. I was never one to relish in anything immoral. It went against my nature. But now…I was no longer a Purifier. I was a greater Vampire. A Daywalker, as she liked to call them. I’d been fighting my true nature this entire time.
Crixis stepped closer, his voice a deadly sort of serious, “She could be yours. She could belong to you. Don’t you want to experience how it feels? How she feels? How she tastes?” He meant something so sickeningly wrong, and yet my mind went there of its own volition this time. He didn’t have to force images in my head.
Kass in my bed…knowing a part of her that she hadn’t given to anyone else. Being one with the deepest, most intimate union that God would intensely frown upon.
“Admit that you want her, Raphael,” he coaxed me. When I did not respond, barely even breathed, he added, “Admit that you want to feel her squirming beneath you. How good it would feel to have her body and soul. Admit it, my friend.”
“I…” I couldn’t get those images out of my head. I’d lost control. And control, once lost, was one of the most difficult things to get back. “I do.”
Crixis quieted. “Good.” He looked toward the door. “Then take her.” With a gust of wind, he was gone, leaving me alone, but not for long.
The doors to the church flew open, and Kassandra Niles herself walked in.
Chapter Thirty-Four – Kass
I got dressed in jeans, zipped on my scuffed combat boots, and threw on a thin leather jacket. It was well past midnight now, nearly one in the morning. I hadn’t heard anything from Gabriel about Michael. I didn’t know if my brain could handle any more news. With my rose blade in my hand, I crawled on the window seat in my bedroom, lifted the window, and snuck out. It was a tad difficult with no ladder or garden tresses, but there was a roof, and I balanced well enough. I tossed my rose blade down on the grass first; then I slowly hung off the roof, dropping myself and dulling the impact with a roll.
I snatched up my sword and took the woods in the back to avoid the parade of people that were currently in our living room. I didn’t want them to see me; and Gabriel…well, I didn’t want him to see me, either. He’d only try to stop me.
The cooler than average night air caused the hair on the back of my neck to prickle. I shook off the memory of Gabriel saying Koath wouldn’t want me to do anything stupid. I knew it was true, but he was dead. What did it matter what he’d want? I emerged on the side street that sat beside ours, hiding behind bushes when cars went by.
Soon I made it to the cemetery, and the anticipation of what was coming, what I was doing, made me break out into a brisk run. Once I reached the dead-end street and saw the dilapidated old church, I resumed a walking pace. I thought I’d encounter Crixis in the cemetery, but I didn’t, so the church it was. If Raphael knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t be there.
When I reached the church’s giant doors, I didn’t pause. I didn’t hesitate. I barged right on in, only I didn’t enter the church.
I entered a vision.
The first Council sat high in their seats. Their clean robes covered most of their bodies. Each had a golden amulet sitting on their chests. The room that surrounded them was giant, circular and majestic. But it felt cold.
I knew what was coming, but I found myself gravitating toward the center of the room, where the first Purifier stood while the Council argued. The same symbol that graced the floor and the Council’s amulets was also displayed prominently on his bare back.
“He is no man,” one of the burly members cried. “He does not deserve to be named.”
“Look at him, and tell me again that he is not a man,” the eldest spoke, wiser than his peers. He turned to the Purifier, examining him. “He is Helio’s final work. He deserves a name just as any other man does. Purifier, you’ve chosen a name for yourself. What is it?”
I now stood between the Council and the first Purifier, who had turned his head upward to the ceiling, where the Archangels were painted, captured in the battle between good and evil. One Angel caught his eye, and the middle Council member noticed.
“Ah, the God who heals,” he said, nodding as he stroked his beard. “So that is indeed your choice, Purifier? To be named after one of God’s own?”
The Purifier gave a single nod.
Despite the bickering on either side of him, the old man smiled. “Very good. Henceforth, you will be known as Raphael, the first Purifier. The task before you is a great one. Do not waver, and fear not the dark. Good will prevail, even in the darkest corners of the globe.”
Bowing his top half, Raphael said nothing. He was lead out of the room by guards, and I, still holding my rose blade, followed.
I walked through dozens of time periods. Small villages, old cities, covered in a black hood and cape, Raphael purified Demons in them all. Even Daywalkers. He wielded his blue power effortlessly.
And then I was in France, walking through a church with beautiful stained windows. As the priest went on with his sermon, I saw Raphael sitting a few pews in. The pews were packed, but none drew my attention quite like the woman who sat on the other half of the church. Her light hair was in a gorgeous curled up-do, her chest covered in a lacy bodice. She had a fan in her hands, and it was clear she was no longer paying attention to the priest.
Her gaze lingered on Raphael.
Whether he had supernatural instincts, or just the simple human feeling of being watched, he turned his head. When he met her gaze, he blushed and quickly looked away.
Yes. He blushed.
I left the church, suddenly in the center of town, where Raphael and the woman strolled arm in arm, down the stone road. She carried a parasol, and she laughed at something he said. He looked uncomfortable and pleased at the same time. They walked through a public rose garden.
Suddenly, he bent down and laid a gentle kiss upon her cheek. Surprised, she gasped, and he took it as a sign he went too far. As Raphael apologized about being too forward, the woman smiled and said, “Not forward enough.” She kissed him hard on the mouth, so hard that nearby onlookers frowned in disproval. When she slowly pulled away, Raphael had an annoyingly silly grin.
I went down the street. Day became night. I couldn’t say how much time passed. A giant, grand bedroom housed two people under the sheets of its wide bed. Outside, a full moon hung low, shining its silver light through the glass. Its light landed on the nightstand, where a goblet sat. I peered into its contents.
Blood.
Raphael worried, “Should I not…wed you first? Is that not what is customary?”
“If you are worried about taking my virtue, I’m afraid I lost it a long time ago.” Seeing it did not ease his visible tension, she whispered, “They were crooked men. Nothing like you. I’ve never met anyone like you, Raphael. It’s why I’ve fallen so deeply in love. You make me feel new.” She slipped out of the rest of her clothes, straddling him. She ran her hands down his bare chest, causing him to inhale sharply. “Do you not want this? Do you not want me?”
The woman was stunning. Any man’s picture of a perfect woman. Not one blemish on her skin, a decently-sized chest, and full, red lips. I’d never look that good, even if I tried. But that’s fine. I was beginning to see that my life was too complicated, too dangerous for something as frivol
ous as love and dating.
“Of course I do,” he was quick to say. “I love you, Leliana.”
Was he too smitten to sense what she was? Maybe he did, and he was just a fool for love.
What happened next, I wished I could both un-see and un-hear. Thankfully, it happened quickly. Guys’ first times, I’d heard, happen fast. Still, I was going to be traumatized for life. I did turn around, but that didn’t block out the initial…ick. I didn’t want to think about it.
Hearing an all-too familiar sound, I threw a glance over my shoulder to see that she bit him while he, uh, you know. Raphael was too dazed to react. She grabbed the goblet, took a large swig, and brought her lips to his, locking onto them like a parasite. He gagged, and he tried pushing her away, but she was too strong. He was probably too high off of his first time doing the dirty. He swallowed.
Leliana withdrew her mouth, biting into her own wrist and holding it against his mouth. Once again, he was forced to drink. “My love, we will be together forever. I will help you through the bloodrush, something my sire never did for me. We’ll travel the world!”
As she went on and on about her plans, the vision changed to her cowering in a dark room, writing furiously in a diary. The same diary I’d looked for in Michael’s study. There was a loud bang as the door broke and Raphael stepped through. His hands glowed blue, and as he approached her with rage in his eyes, she screamed.
Suddenly we were all outside. Leliana was tied to a cross. Chained, more like. Kindling sat beneath her. “Please,” she begged, “don’t do this to me, my love. My Raphael.”
At that, he snapped, “Do not speak my name.” With a flick of his wrist, a blue spark danced, setting an orange fire on the kindling.
“I’m sorry,” she shouted as the flames touched her skin. She screamed louder as the fires lapped at her waist. Her flesh started to sag. Due to her unnatural self, she didn’t need to breathe, thus the fumes would not kill her. She’d remain alive until she was nothing but bones.
Staked! Page 85
