Redemption of Fate (Fate Series Book 2)

Home > Other > Redemption of Fate (Fate Series Book 2) > Page 8
Redemption of Fate (Fate Series Book 2) Page 8

by S. Simone Chavous


  She had lingered there in the dark room as he continued to drain her body, long after her heart stopped beating, still feeling the pull of their bond. It was not merely blood which tied her to him; he was a part of her soul. When the two frightened young women were pushed into the room, Alexa’s heart cried out for them as she watched Ethan attack. She felt his guilt and torment as he drained them completely, but more powerful was the sense of need, and then satisfaction, emanating from the beast which was taking control.

  As she watched the gruesome scene, the light continued to call out to her and, though its force pulled her insistently, the sensation similar to gravity, she held tightly to the love that anchored her to Ethan. In her transformed state, Alexa knew with absolute certainly that, if she left this plane, if she left Ethan, he would be lost to his beast forever; and in life or death, that was something she simply could not allow.

  So she stayed, softly whispering words of comfort to Ethan with her mind, longing to wrap her arms around him and soothe his pain.

  Ethan stood suddenly, abandoning her body on the floor. She instantly felt the beast rising up again, knowing Lucias was near, his faithful servant awaiting command. It was as if Ethan’s soul was split in two; one part belonging to her, the other far more powerful part belonging to Lucias. With each passing second, she felt her Ethan slipping further and further into the background.

  By the time the door swung open and Lucias stepped through, it felt as if she was clinging to what was left of her mate by a tiny, fragile thread.

  ✧

  “How are you feeling, Ethan?” Lucias questioned rather politely; without so much as a glance at any of the three bodies strewn about the room. Kaleb entered silently behind him.

  “Well, Sire,” he replied in an almost robotic fashion.

  “Excellent; I am pleased to hear it. Kaleb, I want you to dispose of those two in the crematory,” he said dismissively, flicking his hand toward the dead women in the corner, “and deliver this one as we discussed,” he stated; indicating Alexa’s still-naked form. “Report back to me immediately after it is done.”

  “Of course, Sire,” Kaleb answered before he tossed the two bodies over his shoulder and carried them dutifully out the door to begin his tasks.

  Though their weight was slight to one of his strength, the gravity of their deaths pressed down on him heavily as he moved. He followed his father’s command without question, out of both fear and respect; but he had never agreed with Lucias’s methods or philosophies. He felt no ill will towards the humans; in fact, he never took the lives of those he fed upon. Unlike his father, who not only used human females to satisfy his hunger, but also to slake his lust and desire to kill.

  Kaleb found humans fascinating and often spent his free time observing them with longing.

  What would it be like to act so freely, to be driven only by my own needs and desires? he often wondered.

  For more decades than he cared to count, he had been bound to serve his father; bound by duty and by blood. His only divergent purpose had been to avenge the death of his brother, the brother whose life was taken by Ethan so many years ago, and now that had been taken from him as well.

  For the briefest of moments, Kaleb had considered disobeying his father and ending Ethan’s life before the virus took hold and Ethan’s transformation was complete. He could endure the pain evoked from the sire-bond, or even death if his father’s wrath demanded it, but the thought which stayed his hand was that of becoming infected, of losing what little shred of free will he had left.

  His father’s virus was a powerful and unforgiving weapon, stripping its victims of all prior bonds, those to mates and family, leaving a powerful and unyielding tie to Lucias in their place. His servants would cut out their own hearts if Lucias commanded it. Or worse, they could be forced to kill someone they loved.

  Since his brother’s death so many years ago, Lucias was the only family Kaleb had; his mother having died giving birth to him, something which was practically unheard of amongst vampires. Lucias never spoke of her, but Kaleb had been foolish enough to ask about her one evening when he was six years old, despite his older brother, David’s, repeated warnings.

  It was a rare occasion for Kaleb to even see his father back then, let alone speak with him. The words had come out in a quiet whisper he’d immediately regretted when Lucias’s icy glare landed upon him.

  “You killed her and now I am stuck with you in her place,” he spat.

  The words hit Kaleb like a physical blow and he couldn’t help the tears which began to flow down his cheeks; a weakness which was not permitted in his father’s house. He cowered in the corner as he waited for Lucias’s punishing blow. Instead he only felt the soft breeze of David’s movement as he sped across the room and placed himself between Kaleb and their father.

  “Father, he is still a child. If you must, punish me instead. I take full responsibility for him and all of his future training. I vow he will not burden you further with questions of the past or displays of weakness.”

  “Very well, David; remove him from my presence at once,” Lucias stated coldly. “And remember; in the future you will both suffer for his lack of discipline.”

  David immediately scooped Kaleb up in his arms and rushed from Lucias’s presence.

  Safely in Kaleb’s room and out of range of their father’s preternatural hearing, Kaleb struggled to speak as he sat on the bed and continued to sniffle. “D-did, did I kill her?” he stuttered, looking up at David with panic-filled eyes.

  David ruffled his hair, as was his way, before pulling his younger sibling against his strong chest. “No, little one; you did not kill our mother. She simply realized the fate of loving a man like our father.” He hadn’t really understood what his brother meant, but he was far too afraid to press the issue further.

  Even after so many years, Kaleb felt David’s loss immensely. Since his death, Kaleb had known nothing of love. To his father, he was merely a tool; a talented soldier with the convenient obedience derived from the genetic blood bond.

  Kaleb kept his infrequent encounters with females brief and clinical, only doing what was necessary to satisfy his basic needs for blood and sex. He was prohibited from taking a true mate, from creating a bond that would sever his tie to Lucias. Not that he would have done it anyway. In his heart, he feared that anyone he loved would be ripped from his grasp before he could realize any true peace or happiness. Lucias was unforgiving and cruel and Kaleb was certain that any female he showed an attachment to would be used against him in one way or another. But that didn’t stop the longing in his heart.

  He blinked rapidly to fight the sting of tears as he pulled his thoughts back to the job at hand and continued down the long corridor.

  His body tensed involuntarily as he sensed the human woman’s presence. She was the last person he wanted to see.

  “Looks like somebody had themselves a good lunch,” Molly drawled playfully; as she rounded the corner and took note of the lifeless women Kaleb was carrying.

  He did his best to keep his face impassive as he passed her silently. She was as responsible for the dead he carried over his shoulder as the vampire who had drained them. She had been more than willing, eager even, when Lucias made the request for her to lure the innocent woman to their facility; knowing very well the fate which awaited them there. And that had only been the beginning.

  Kaleb quickened his pace as the hypocrisy of his thoughts washed over him. Was he really any different? He had killed countless humans along with his own kind, under the command of his father.

  No, I do not take pleasure in it. I only do what is required of me; I have no choice, he thought, trying to soothe his guilt. But in his heart, he knew there was a choice, there was always a choice; he was just too weak to make the right one.

  As he gently laid the women down on the sliding steel slab, he began to whisper a prayer, the light of the fire from the crematorium casting a soft glow on his face.

&nb
sp; Eternal rest, grant unto them, O Lord,

  and let perpetual light shine upon them.

  May the souls of the faithful departed

  through the mercy of God rest in peace. Amen.

  Kaleb wasn’t really sure why he did it, always praying for the dead in this manner. There was no religion in his father’s house, and it was the only prayer he knew, having stumbled upon it once during a clean-up mission.

  An injured human had escaped a team of his father’s soldiers, only to die shortly after, but not before her body was discovered. Luckily, none of her injuries pointed to anything other than a violent assault, no evidence of the supernatural; but to be certain, Kaleb had remained close, examining the police reports, watching the girl’s family, and even attending the funeral, on alert for any sign that his kind could be exposed before his father was ready.

  He’d entered the church silently and had sat in the back, completely unnoticed by the other attendants as he carefully surveyed them all; paying no attention to the service in progress. Satisfied that there was no risk of exposure, he stood to leave, taking his first brief glance towards the coffin lying at the front of the long center aisle. It seemed so…small. Then his eyes fell upon the blown-up photograph to the left. The sweet face of a blonde girl smiling wide with her two front teeth missing stared back at him, hitting him like a punch in the gut. A child.

  Shaking off the memory, Kaleb closed the steel door and tried to pull his thoughts back to his duties. Each day, it had been growing more and more difficult for him to block out the guilt; the pain and remorse growing and festering inside him like a cancer.

  Kaleb returned to collect Alexa’s body and felt his sharp hunger for vengeance dull slightly at the sight of her. David had been serving their father, intent on forcing Ethan into his service to win favor when he’d been killed. Ethan had been defending himself. Perhaps he could have escaped without killing David and his men, but if he had let them live, how could he know they wouldn’t come for him again? Ethan did what was necessary for his own freedom; something Kaleb was beginning to understand. Reluctantly, he pushed aside the pain of the loss of his brother and, for the first time, acknowledged that perhaps for all those years, his anger was misdirected.

  CHAPTER 8 - Molly's Hunt

  Molly carefully spread the ruby-red lipstick over her lips before smearing them together and blowing a kiss at her own reflection. She had been on her way to see Lucias but, after seeing Kaleb carrying those bodies, she went back to her room and got dressed instead, feeling an overwhelming need to hunt. She scribbled a quick note and tucked it into her bra before she walked out the door.

  A she climbed into the car, she passed the note to the vampire holding the door.

  “Be a doll and give this to Lucias when you get back, will you?” she said; batting her eyelashes as he took it from her hand.

  The red-eyed vampire nodded silently and closed the door.

  Twenty-five minutes later, the car pulled up to one of her favorite pick-up spots downtown.

  “I won’t need a ride back tonight,” she said; taking the vampire’s offered hand as she climbed out and stepped on to the curb. “Be sure you deliver that note; I’d hate for Lucias to be worried about me. Lord knows what he might do,” she drawled, her words a veiled threat to ensure that the man did what she wanted. The truth was that she was just as worried about what Lucias would do to her for failing to pay him the respect of telling him what she was up to. Of course, she would be easily forgiven if she brought home an adequate gift.

  Molly watched the car pull away before she strolled into the club known for its free-spirited and sexually-adventurous clientele. She was happy to find that her favorite seat at the end of the long bar was vacant. The stool provided a view of the entire place, while putting her on display for any interested parties, and she most definitely wanted to be seen in the get-up she had on. The tight black leather miniskirt, blood-red halter top, red fuck-me heels, and leather choker would attract just the kind of people she was interested in spending some time with.

  Before meeting Lucias, she’d come to the club often; looking for men and women who were into the same hardcore kinky shit she was. Of course, no one she’d ever come across there could hold a candle to the fucked up shit Lucias and, as it turned out, she were into. She wasn’t quite sure what it was about watching the light go out in someone’s eyes, but every time she saw it happen she came like a fucking volcano.

  Getting wet just from the thought, Molly shifted on the stool and shivered at the friction the motion caused on the hood piercing between her legs.

  She wasn’t sure if she actually loved Lucias; in all probability she wasn’t capable of such a complex human emotion, but what she felt for him was likely the closest she would ever get. One day he would make her like him. She would be a vampire, his queen, and she spent most nights dreaming of all the possibilities her new life would afford.

  “Hey, sweetie, haven’t seen you around here in a while,” the burly bartender said as he set Molly’s favorite drink down on the bar in front of her. “Lookin’ good tonight. This is from that couple down at the end; you can’t miss the redhead,” he said pointing in the direction of the smiling couple.

  “Thanks, Drake; guess I better shimmy on over and thank them,” she drawled with a wink.

  She slung her tiny black purse over her shoulder and hopped down off the stool. Even with the four-inch heels, she was barely five-foot-five. The bag she carried was barely big enough to hold a cell phone, let alone a wallet; neither of which she carried. She had no intention of buying her own drinks and she certainly didn’t want to be identified or risk losing a phone which could lead back to her or Lucias in any way. The bartender knew her face, but she never gave anyone there her real name.

  No; she had the only things she needed in that small pouch. Lipstick, enough cash for a taxi if she got desperate, and two syringes of M99, a tranquilizer she chose for its use by a lovable serial killer from her favorite television show.

  Drink in hand, she walked the length of the bar to the anxiously waiting couple, twirling a piece of her short blonde hair around her finger as she went. As she drew closer, the couple swiveled around on the stools, giving her a better look at them.

  The woman’s hair was flaming red, with a few touches of blonde highlights and she was dressed in a tight red mini-dress with cream and black stilettos. Her ample breasts were practically pouring out the top of the dress with several inches of cleavage visible. She smiled seductively as her eyes raked up and down Molly’s tight body.

  The man was average; almost plain, with brown hair and a nondescript face. Slightly overweight and probably below average height, he didn’t appeal to Molly at all, but that was of little consequence, since she liked his companion more than enough to compensate.

  “Hi y’all,” she said brightly. “I just wanted to come on down here and say ‘thank you’ for the drink. That was awful sweet of you.”

  “You’re just about the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen, next to my lovely wife, of course,” the man said as he ogled Molly shamelessly, before taking her by the forearm and pulling her closer with just the right amount of force.

  Mmmm, perhaps I misjudged him, she thought as he tightened his grip.

  Nestled closely between them, Molly took a sip of her drink and closed her eyes as she slowly licked her lips.

  Lifting her lids, she regarded the woman who was watching her with lust-filled eyes. “What’s your name, sugar?” Molly asked, her voice low and sexy. “And please tell me where you got those shoes.”

  “I’m Violet. This is my husband, Chuck,” she replied, lightly stroking Molly’s arm. “The shoes are Jimmy Choos; think I bought them at Saks.”

  “Six-and-a-half, right?” Molly inquired as she ran her eyes down the woman’s bare legs.

  “That’s right.”

  “Perfect; same as me. I’m Amber, by the way,” Molly said as she turned to the man, and moved so that she was sta
nding between his open thighs, his modest erection obvious through his khakis.

  “So we could waste a bunch of time sitting here chit-chatting and drinking, pretending we’re interested in getting to know each other, or we could just cut the shit and go party at my place. I’ve got a lot of fun toys and plenty of um, refreshments, if y’all know what I mean,” she said tapping the side of her nose.

 

‹ Prev