Kindling (The Hunter Trilogy Book One)
Page 7
“I had a brother,” my papá said. “His name was Lysander. We named Leo after him,” he nodded. “Lysander was Heike’s tracker for a few years, mi cielo. He died before you were born. And abuelo, he was a tracker, too, many years ago.”
“Abuelo?” I whispered. My papá nodded. “And you had a brother?” He nodded again.
“And there are vampyres, Catalina,” my father said. “I know it’s hard for you to believe, but vampyres are real and Vyou were born to fight them.”
I didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, I totally didn’t believe anything they were saying. But, on the other hand, as much as I thought it was impossible to have vampyres in the world, my parents hadn’t lied to me before, at least lied to me about something of this magnitude. Okay, they sort of didn’t tell the whole truth about who Henry was, but I guessed they did it for my benefit. And I couldn’t really explain those guys at my party, how they seemed impervious to near crippling blows.
But, I thought vampyres were about as likely to exist as the chupacabra (a coyote with mange) or the Loch Ness Monster (a toy submarine) and there I was, listening to the two people I trusted most in the world tell me that my biological father was a Vampyre Hunter and I was, what? Heike’s successor or something?
As if he could read my thoughts, Heike said, “There are things, Katja, that you’re told not to believe. Most people can live their entire life without acknowledging these things. But we cannot. We are unlike normal people. We must carry the burden that other people cannot handle.”
There was a desperation and sadness in Heike’s eyes, so much so that I convinced myself to continue listening even though everything he said was unbelievable. How could I believe that there were vampyres? But, I was also pretty moved by Heike’s story, if it was true, – that he only left me because he wanted normalcy for his kid - he wasn’t really a dick. It was actually kind of sweet.
But he was crazy if he thought I could believe in vampyres, though. That was too ridiculous. But, why did my parents believe it? And even my abuelo was somehow mixed into all this?
I felt committed to hearing this thing out, no matter how crazy and far-fetched it seemed. “So, you’re saying that vampyres are real?” I tried hard not to let the scepticism come through in my voice. “And I fought some today?”
Heike smiled. “I know it’s hard to believe, I can’t imagine how you’re feeling. It’s hard for even me to believe it sometimes.” I nodded. Uh, yeah, it’s just a little difficult to believe in the boogiemen. “I need you to believe this for your own safety, Katja. They’re showing up at your door and you’re not going to be ready for them.”
“Okay,” I said. “Then tell me why there isn’t news of vampyres killing people all over the world.”
“We cover it up,” Heike said. “It’s simple. We work with governments to cover everything up. Can you imagine the hysteria if people found out about vampyres?”
“Wait, who was ‘we’? You said ‘we’ cover it up?” I asked.
“We are called The Coven of Hunters, although that’s not really a politically correct name anymore. We’re technically all called Hunters, but we’re really different types of Hunters – regular Hunters and Trackers are like me and most of the people you’ll eventually meet, but there are Lycans and Dhampirs and ... who am I forgetting, Braith?” Heike said.
“Liliths, a few Skin-walkers.” Braith said, then paused. “Kindlers," he finally added. Heike turned and gave Braith a sharp look. “She’s gotta know ...” Braith said. “You asked,” he added.
“Now I’m asking you to stop being a bloody twat,” Heike spat. Braith didn’t respond, but he glared back at Heike. Heike frowned and returned Braith’s glare. I didn’t know what all those things were Braith and Heike talked about and I was especially curious about what a Kindler was because that seemed to be some trigger word, but Heike’s sudden change of demeanour told me I should shut it.
“Can we get back to this conversation? Because, I feel like you’re speaking a different language. I have no clue what you’re saying,” I said. My papá chuckled and Heike and Braith broke their gazes. “So, why are you telling me this?” I asked. The impossibility of everything Heike and Braith were saying shook me, but my resolve not to believe them was crumbling. “If this is true, why am I learning about this now?”
“Normally, children grow up in the Hunter world. They Hunt with their fathers until they’re about 16. Then they start displaying Hunter or Tracker traits. That’s when we know it’s time for them to start training and learning how to use their new powers to fight. Usually, the first trait displayed by most Hunters and Trackers is called The Coloring, because we begin to see colored rings around people, kind of like seeing their auras.”
“Wait, wait, wait a second,” I interrupted. “You’re telling me people have colors around them? And you see these colors? And you think this is normal?”
Heike smiled and nodded. “It’s not normal, no, but we’re an abnormal race of people doing an abnormal job. Most Hunters and Trackers have the same color. We all see it slightly differently but, with training, we’re able to decipher who’s who.”
I’m sure I looked as extremely confused as I felt. “Basically,” Braith said. “We can tell who is good, like a normal person or another Hunter, and who is bad, like a vampyre, by what color they are. The shades of colors on bad entities tell us how bad they are. The darker the shade the worse the vampyre.”
“Oh,” I said. “What do you mean by entities?” Braith shrugged. “Oh, god, are you saying there are more bad guys than just vampyres?”
Braith sighed. “Sort of, but let’s just forget about that for right now. Concentrate on how this affects you, okay? For right now, there are just Hunters and there are just vampyres. That’s enough to know.”
I nodded. He had a point. I wanted to know everything, but right then – if I was going to jump in and say I believed this – I should just be concerned about how everything affected me. “What color am I?”
Braith and Heike look startled for a minute and then glanced at each other. “Before I tell you, you need to understand one crucial point,” Heike said. “Women hunters are rare. So rare that we don’t really know much about how they develop into Hunters. I knew you were a Hunter, The Oracle told me, but I wasn’t positive that you’d go through The Coloring first. So ...” Heike paused and looked at my parents.
“So, when you were 15, he sent Braith to watch over you,” my mother said. My mouth dropped. Braith had been following me around for two years and I had no idea! I looked at Braith and he grinned, wide and toothy, and even his brown, honey eyes shown bright. He winked at me and raised his eyebrows. As patient as he was being during that conversation, his winking reminded me of how annoying and grotesque he could be.
“You were so strong, too strong for a little girl,” Heike said. “I was worried about you. I was worried the vampyres could sense you if you got too strong. So, I sent Braith to track you and alert me if he felt anything was off.”
“I saw Micah," Braith paused and looked embarrassed. "I saw the vampyre hanging around about a week ago,” Braith said. “I contacted Heike and he came right away. We’ve been stalking you.” Braith winked at me again and I cringed. I can’t imagine all the embarrassing things I did last week – and over the course of the last two years – that he had seen. Braith’s smile faded. “Tell her, Heike,” Braith said. “Tell her or I will.”
Heike glared at Braith. “Tell me what?” I said. Neither answered. “Tell me what!?” I screeched. I didn’t mean to be that loud, but they were being secretive. I hated secrets.
Braith said something in what I presumed to be Dutch, but I couldn’t be sure. Heike sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “All groups of people have the same color. The Hunters and Trackers are variations of blue, Lycan are brown, vampyres are yellow to gold, depending on how many people they’ve killed. All groups have colors that are connected in some way, they’re all similar. Do you underst
and?” I nodded slowly. “Your color is different, Katja. You should be blue, for a Hunter because I am a Hunter. That’s how it usually works, the father gives his child the same Gift, but ...” he paused. “You’re white.”
I looked from Heike to Braith, expecting further explanation, but none came. “What does that mean?” I asked. I raised my eyebrows because I was getting flustered. They should just tell me. If this was something real – I couldn’t really confirm if it was real – I should know what I was getting myself into. “Am I evil or something?”
“No, no, nothing like that. It’s actually kind of good. It’s ...” Heike trailed off and looked to Braith to fill me in.
“There have been so few women in our coven, Kit. Only three,” Braith said.
“Three? Like, me and two other women?” Braith and Heike nodded in unison. “Like, right now there are only three?”
“No, like ever,” Braith said. “The Coven has kept records for over a thousand years and only three women in the history of vampyre hunting have had The Gift,” Braith said. “And it’s been about 100 years since the last woman has gone through training. And those women? They weren’t white, Kit. They were blue, just like Heike and the other hunters and trackers.”
“What does it mean, then? What does my color mean?” I ask. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair.
“It means you’re a Kindler,” Braith said. He enunciated every word so I understood, even though I couldn't possibly have any idea what a Kindler was.
That word – Kindler – gave me a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach, especially since my papá winced at the word and my mom placed her hand over her mouth. It made me a little anxious. I furrowed my brow. “What is it? Is it bad?”
“No, not bad. It’s just different,” Heike said, then looked at Braith. “It’s a rare gift, Katja, there haven’t been many Kindlers in existence and you are the only Hunter that is also a Kindler right now. Hunters usually have a combination of two powers: increased strength and speed. We don’t really call these special abilities anything because they are just so normal in our world, but they allow Hunters to better bring down a vampyre. You see, vampyres usually can only be killed in three ways. The easiest and most used form is beheading. A stake through the heart, like in the movies, technically also works, but you have to remove the heart with the stake in it to keep them dead. Hunters always carry with them a machete or sword and an iron or wood stake. During training, Hunters learn to use both methods, but mostly stick to using a machete. You understand?” I nodded and winced. I couldn’t believe we were actually talking about cutting off the heads and hearts of vampyres. It was very surreal. “These two ways are very difficult because you need to get so close to the vampyre. And, you can see, how strength and speed come into all this. Hunters need to be fast to catch vampyres and need strength to fight vampyres. There is a lot of physical fighting between Hunter and vampyre before a Hunter would be able to lay the killing blow. You have to wear a vampyre down and get them when they are disoriented. They’re very strong and can rip a Hunter apart. Even with proper training, getting to the point where you are to kill a vampyre is very dangerous. Do you understand?” he asked again.
“Yes,” I said. “Just go on.”
“The most efficient way to kill a vampyre is by burning them. It’s incredibly difficult, though. A regular Hunter will try to burn the vampyre, but fire is difficult to control and vampyres are so fast they can often avoid being fully burned. They heal, quick, much quicker than us, so the fire must burn them from their feet up, so they have little time to recover before the fire spreads. Understand?” I nodded, but gritted my teeth. I was annoyed he was pausing so much. “Kindlers are the most unique and rare type of Hunter. They can make and control fire to use against vampyres.” Heike nodded matter-of-factly and I was a little shocked that he just finished so abruptly. I raised my eyebrows when he didn’t go on and I looked at him like he was insane. This whole thing was outrageous and I was quickly following this rabbit hole to insanity.
“What do you mean Kindlers make fire?” I said. No one answered. “¿Qué? ¿Lo que el fuego?” I said. My voice raised and my mom raised her hands to hush me. The babies and my sister were sleeping.
“Eventually, you’ll be able to make fire in your hands,” Braith said. “I don’t know how, so don’t ask. None of us knows how Kindlers can do it. There hasn’t been a new Kindler for, what, nearly 600 years?” Braith looked at Heike, who thought this over for a moment and nodded. “But, when you’re trained properly, you’ll be a virtual vampyre killing machine,” Braith paused. “You’ll be the highest ranking Hunter The Coven has.”
They all looked at me expecting ... what? I don’t know. Probably more of a reaction than I was giving. They waited for a nearly a minute for me to react.
“You can ask questions, Katja,” Heike smiled. “I know you must have questions.”
“I don’t want to kill anything,” I breathed and stood. “I need some air.” I walked out the back door. I felt like I could run 1000 miles right then, away from Heike and my parents who were obviously just as crazy as him and Braith and all of this insanity. I was grasping for air, partially because they seemed to believe in that fiction and partially because I was starting to believe it as well. I was aggravated and anxious and I didn’t know if they were all lying to me about vampyres – god, that sounded so insane and I knew it sounded insane, that was the awful part – but what was the purpose if they were lying? I tried to explain everything in my head, there had to be simpler reasons for everything that was happening, and they want me to make fire? What the hell was that making fire shit? I started to hyperventilate.
“Catalina,” my father said. I jumped. “It’s okay, mi cielo, it’s okay.” He pulled me in for a hug. “Just breath, just breath,” he comforted. I nodded and took some deep breaths. He let me calm down a bit. “Let’s talk,” he smiled. I nodded and he led me over to a bench. “My brother, Leo we called him, was a great tracker. Heike lived with us for many years when my brother and I were young and he personally trained Leo and, even though I didn’t have The Gift, Heike took me under his wing and trained me, too. I was proud to be Leo’s brother and Heike’s friend.” He paused and took my face in his hands. “But I am even more proud to be your father.”
“This can’t be real, papá,” I whispered. “This just can’t be real.”
“Why, mi cielo?” He held my hand and petted it. “Tell me why it can’t be real.”
I sighed, long and drawn out. He always wanted me to analyze situations. How could I even begin? “Vampyres are fiction. They’re just not real. It’s impossible.”
“Tell me what you know about them,” he said.
I shrugged. I didn’t know much except what I had seen through really bad horror films and popular culture. “They drink people’s blood?”
“Yes, go on,” my papá demanded.
“They’re immortal?” He nodded. “They sleep in coffins. They don’t like sunlight. If you get bitten or something you turn into a vampire.” I thought a little bit more. “They turn into bats or something?”
“Is that all?” I nodded. I was never that interested in vampires. “Let me tell you about the vampyres that I know. I grew up running from them, Catalina. They haunt my nightmares.” He laughed, a little, but I didn’t see the humour. “Vampyres are not immortal, they can die. Your abuelo and uncle killed many in their day.” My papá grinned. “Daylight does nothing to them, they just prefer to feast at night since they won’t get caught as easily, which is why many people think they’re nocturnal. Vampyres are blood thirsty, yes. But a bite won’t always kill you. If they drain you, you will die, but they don’t always go that far. They are like cats, tormenting their victims until they yearn for death to come.” He snarled a little and had a far away look in his eyes, then shook himself out of his daze. “Truly sadistic and practiced vampyres will never let death come to a human. They will adopt a human as a blood slave and sup on them over and ov
er and over until the human dies from the stress.” I must have looked shocked, because he patted my face. “Those are not the normal ones. The more normal vampyres just hop from one person to the next, drinking what they need or learn to live without human blood. Some humans even find having an annual blood drain refreshing, although the practice is generally looked down upon in the Hunting community. I call them normal, but they are in the minority. The majority of vampyres cannot control how much blood they drink. They can’t control their blood lust and end up killing humans. That’s where the Hunters come in. The Hunters quell the vampyries that kill. It’s that simple.”
I shook my head. “It’s impossible,” I whispered, although I was doubting everything. If vampyres were real were zombies real? And goblins and fae and trolls?
Papá patted my leg. “Your mother and I, we grew up in this life, so it’s hard for me to know how to convince you. It’s just, a way of life for us, something almost normal.”
“In what universe are vampyres normal?”
“In this universe, mi cielo,” he laughed. “You are intelligent, caring, quick-witted, and ever questioning. I love that about you, Catalina. You are so rational and logical that it’s so difficult for you to accept what me and your mother and your abuelos know ...” he trailed off, then smiled and kissed my forehead. “Yes, it is real, mi amor. And why would I lie to you about this? You have to think, have mama and I ever lied to you before?” I was in shock so I didn’t really respond. He sighed and dug around in his pocket. He handed me a leather notebook worn around the spine and bent along around the edges of the cover, like it had been repeatedly pulled in and out of a tight space. On the front there was an intricately carved tree and the letters L.G.C. “Lysander Guillermo Chavez,” my papá pointed at the initials. “Mi hermano. Your uncle.” I could hear the sadness in my father’s voice and I saw the glistening in his eyes. “Leo was an amazing and incredibly detailed writer. He wrote a lot of it for me, you know, because he knew I would never experience a Hunt. I was always a little bit jealous. I don’t know why. It was a tough job for him. Your abuelos and I have nearly a hundred of these little notebooks from him, filled with his thoughts and escapes. After his training was over, I gave him this notebook as a gift. Everything in here is from the first six months he was in the field with Heike.” “Much of this first notebook you shouldn’t read. He was still and adolescent boy, you know,” he laughed and reddened a bit when he glanced at one page. Then my papá smiled at me and turned to a marked page in the journal. “But, these few entries, I think, might help you.” He pointed to the first date – August 12, 1947 – and flipped to the last date – October 1947 – and nodded. “Will you read?”