Forever Night

by W. J. May

  “So cute,” the old woman laughed, which sounded ironically like a cackle. “Child, you are your mother’s daughter, all right, but without—”

  She never finished the sentence.

  Kallie slammed into her with all the strength she had, and the old woman went sprawling, fingers grasping at Kallie’s throat as Kallie repeatedly sent blows raining down on her chest. Kallie heard her father launch into action behind her, capturing the attention of the other two, and they took him on gratefully. No one, she thought with satisfaction, wants to fight the hybrid.

  No one but the would-be Hunter. The old woman hissed and her arms snaked up, trying to get her fingers locked around Kallie’s throat. They squeezed, preternatural in their strength, and the woman huffed out a wheezing laugh. “You think I’m weak. Everyone does. They can’t see beyond the white hair to what lies beneath. You think you can fight me, hybrid, but you’ll die like the rest of them. I won my place at Petra’s side.”

  And that was the key to her, Kallie realized. Spots were dancing before her eyes, and she knew she had only a moment. She lashed out with all her strength to take the woman down, and knew her impact had cracked ribs. It wouldn’t be enough; the woman would heal quickly even if she wasn’t readying herself to become a Hunter, but it was enough to make her wary.

  As she broke away to circle, Kallie studied the old woman’s face. Yes, she was right. There was envy there. The woman was afraid—and Kallie took a guess, hoping to unsettle her as a much as her weak old form unsettled Kallie.

  “You know she’s going to replace you.” She bared her teeth at the old woman. “You are weak. Clever, I’ll give you that, but that knowledge came with age. However, I’m young. I can learn. I’m a hybrid, and you’ve seen what I can do.” She smiled and twisted the imaginary knife. “And it doesn’t even matter, does it? Because I’m her daughter and you know she’ll pick me to be her Hunter in the end. And you’ll get nothing.”

  The old woman screamed her fury and launched herself at Kallie, fingers extended in claws, but Kallie was ready for her. A planted foot kicked up and caught the woman full in the chest. There was the low crunch of bones. A split-second later, Kallie was on top of her, fists catching the woman’s face. She leaned forward to whisper, “So, run. Because you know I can say anything Petra wants to hear. You know I can make myself her Hunter. I have nothing but time. I can be patient. She’ll trust me eventually. But you already know that, don’t you?” She held the old woman’s arms up with one hand, her hand on her throat. “And when I have everything? I’m going to find you, and I’m going to kill you.”

  The Hunter didn’t fight. She simply glared at Kallie with hatred mixed with… jealousy.

  Kallie stood, picked the woman up, and threw her hard across the room. She didn’t look to see what happened to the Hunter. She didn’t need to. Almost casually, she pulled one of the two others off her father and broke the attacker’s nose with a backhanded strike. He went down with a scream and she broke his leg with a kick, watching as her father took out the other one. He looked around himself at Kallie’s handiwork, and she saw the fear in his eyes.

  She refused to believe he should be scared. “Let’s just get Petra.”

  He nodded wordlessly and made for the door, but it was there that Kallie paused. She knew she shouldn’t look, but she turned anyway, her gaze meeting Caleb’s across the floor. She saw the glint of gold in his eyes as the Rogue Reds overwhelmed him at last, and his unconscious body slumped to the floor. It was all she could do to hold back her scream of fear and rage. Nooo!

  “This way.” Her father yanked her into the dark of the corridor. “While they’re still distracted!” He pulled her behind him, their fingers sticky with blood, and he looked back only once when he heard her sob. Something in his face softened then, and she knew he was probably happy to see some sign of human emotion in her.

  It’s called love, Dad. A sign of love. But what kind?

  “He’ll survive,” her father said gruffly, and both of them knew it was the best he could promise.

  Kallie only nodded in return. She breathed hard, trying to calm herself as they ran. She wasn’t huffing because of exertion; she was fighting to stop herself from turning back around to get Caleb. How could he sacrifice himself for her?

  When they found Petra—not if, but when, she told herself—she could not be crying and crippled by fear and pain. She had to be strong, to fight that horrible wench of a woman in her lair. Petra would have every advantage in the coming confrontation.

  It was clear that no one but Petra’s chosen had ever been meant to see these passageways. They were carpeted richly, but with bare stone walls that bore smears of blood and the scratches of either claws or fingernails. Kallie shuddered, wondering who had fought to free themselves from this place. Was any of this Caleb’s blood? She couldn’t think of that, or she would go mad. Focus, Kallie!

  However, she couldn’t avoid the smell of human blood and neither could her father. They halted together, hands squeezing to keep themselves from running after the scent. How hard had it been for her father to keep to himself for years with the smell of humans living nearby, sleeping nearby? She took a few tentative steps forward and steeled herself. If her friends were still here she had to get them out, hopefully unharmed. She was weak and full of the instinct of the fight, but she would not let herself hurt them.

  To her relief, however, nobody was there. There were only a few drops of blood that had been human, almost dried on the carpet, and yet intoxicating to Kallie in her weakened state. She hesitated, and then lowered her head to sniff.

  “Jeanna.” She felt her throat close. “She was hurt.”

  “Liam got her out,” her father reminded her. “We have to go after Petra.”

  “Right.” But Kallie looked over her shoulder at the blood as they continued on. Please let Jeanna be all right. And please let me think of some way to explain this to her before we meet again—because she could not find any words now to say how sorry she was for having her friends dragged into this mess.

  Kallie’s father would have raced past Petra’s lair, but Kallie stopped him. She could smell Petra’s scent, the dark rituals and hatred, and she pointed to the carved black door.

  Her father frowned. “Are you sure?” he mouthed, and when Kallie nodded he pushed the door open cautiously.

  “It took you longer than I expected,” Petra said shortly, from inside the chamber. She lounged on a throne carved from a single block of marble, and she had taken the time to wipe the blood from her skin. She was composed, regal. Her eyes swept over Kallie and took in the scratches and bruises. Petra it seemed had long ago learned the art of setting her visitors in their place.

  “You should’ve picked someone better to be a Hunter,” Kallie told her. “The old woman was weak.”

  “Is that why you look so pleased with yourself? I know all about her failings, my dear. And I also know what I can make her once she transforms. She’s not gone yet.”

  “But, as usual, you don’t spend a second worrying about what’ll happen if your creation turns on you,” Kallie’s father spoke, his voice ugly. He shut the door behind them, and his gaze swept over the room, taking in the altar, the braziers, rugs on the floor, and old weapons on the walls. He looked disgusted by all of it. “You never worry, do you; even when half of those who flock to you make their own rules.”

  “They all come back. In time.”

  Kallie looked between the two of them. They were not, she knew instinctively, talking about the Rogue Reds. This went back far, perhaps even before her birth. Her father had told her that he loved Helen, that it was natural for him to take her as a wife; and yet, what if there was more to it? What if he had resented being tied to Petra as he was? What if he had wanted to make his own rules years ago, and had always been drawn back into her web?

  Petra stood to gaze down on the two of them. “You can still join me. I’d need demonstrations of true loyalty, of course; I’m not a fool,
but I would allow you back. What is there for you in the world? Kallie, would you divide your loyalties to your family with that baby Blue? And you…” Her gaze settled on Kallie’s father. “Helen gave you up. She made herself your mortal enemy.”

  “Not forever,” Kallie said fiercely. Her father would never have to face this alone. “I’ll fix that. I’ll undo the damage that created the war.”

  The moment the words were out of her mouth she knew she had made a terrible mistake.

  “Ah…” Petra sighed with satisfaction. She was across the room a half second later, pressing Kallie against the wall with bruising force, forcing her head down toward the silver tip of a spear. “Make one move, Jack, and your daughter dies. And Kallie…oh, Kallie. It’s already beginning. I’ll let you go if you admit it, you know. Just say you’re willing to do anything to save your aunt. Just say it. Admit what you’re becoming, and this can all be over.”

  The moment that silver entered her skin, Kallie knew she was dead. She struggled violently against Petra’s grip, hands scrabbling at the wall.

  “Just say it, Kallie. Admit it, and I can teach you everything you want to know.”

  “Not…going…to happen!” Kallie wrenched herself free at the last second, and Petra was on the floor, face pressed into the carpet as Kallie laid a silver arrow against her back.

  “Wait!” Petra’s cry was a command, enough to still Kallie’s fingers for a moment. “Wait.”

  “There’s nothing to wait for. I know what you are. I know what you’ve done, and what you intend to do. There’s no reason for me to spare you.” Petra would never know what it cost Kallie to do this, or what it cost her father to stand by and watch.

  “Oh?” Petra’s voice held amusement, dark and desperate. “What if I told you I could fix your little family?”

  “You can’t.” She raised the spear, ready to end it all now. She pretended not to notice the shaking end of the spear. “You only know how to cause devastation.”

  “I can. I know how to undo the war between the Reds and the Blues. Let me teach you.” The moment built, Petra’s head twisting to take a glance at Kallie’s face, and she laughed when Kallie’s shoulders slumped. “You’ll do anything,” she said as Kallie sat back to let her father bind Petra with manacles from the wall. “This is just how it starts.”

  “You don’t know me,” Kallie whispered.

  But the denial sounded hollow even to her.

  Chapter 3

  The sky was still dark in the east when they made their way home, and Kallie shook her head at the sight of the starry sky. It continued to amaze her, perhaps foolishly, that the world should seem so similar when everything had turned upside down. The time between her attack at the Red Dragon and now had not been long, only a few hours. And yet it seemed that everything was different, and the world should behave accordingly.

  She hauled Petra out of the backseat, trying to ignore the woman’s mocking expression, and her father took the woman’s other arm as they walked. It was at the step that they paused, uncertain. Petra recoiled, and Kallie leaned closer to look at a note on the ground. A metal collar lay next to it, some combination of silver and another metal.

  For Petra.

  “Who left this?” Kallie’s father sounded panicked.

  “Liam,” Kallie said slowly.

  “How did he know?”

  “I texted him.”

  “You told him—”

  “We have company,” Kallie reminded her father. She jerked her head at Petra, who managed a mocking laugh.

  “Oh, don’t stop on my account. I find it fascinating, you know—this little infatuation you have with the Blue boy. He’s going to betray you, by the way. Not that I expect you to listen to me.”

  “He isn’t going to betray me,” Kallie said through gritted teeth.

  “Of course not. I don’t know what I was thinking. After all, it’s not like I can see the future.” Her gaze bore into Kallie’s.

  Kallie surrendered to anger and revenge gratefully. Petra couldn’t know what would happen, she told herself. She snatched the collar up from the ground, knowing that the woman’s fear of it had been genuine—

  And dropped it on the ground with a clang, hissing through her teeth.

  “What is it?” Her father was staring at her. So, Kallie realized, was Petra.

  “It feels…wrong.”

  “What?”

  “Like nails being bent backwards.” She could hardly speak for disgust. “Like…like…I can’t touch it. You put it on her.”

  “Even knowing how it feels?” Petra hissed. She struggled against them as Kallie’s father stooped to pick up the ring.

  He shook his head at Kallie, meeting her eyes over Petra’s head while he clasped it in place. “I don’t feel anything.”

  “Lucky,” Kallie muttered. She ignored Petra’s sounds of pain as they hauled the woman up the steps and then down once more into the basement. Her father half-pushed Petra down the stairs and pulled a lever on the basement door.

  “What’s that?”

  “I…vampire-proofed the basement,” her father said grudgingly. “I suppose you can know now.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I wasn’t sure I could control myself,” he said harshly. “It means I was afraid someday my instincts would drive me to hurt you, and I needed to know I couldn’t get out.”

  Kallie was shocked into silence. It took her a moment to think of anything to say; she wanted to cry, to hug him, to scream for all the years he had lost hiding away from his own daughter and wife.

  “Petra’s a witch, though,” she said finally.

  “She’s bound in iron and silver,” her father said with satisfaction. “She won’t get out. Liam had that right at least. I wish you hadn’t told him, though.”

  “Liam’s the one person you can trust not to go to the Rogue Reds,” Kallie pointed out. “Well, him and…”

  She paused, drawing in a deep breath. But she hadn’t stopped quickly enough, and her father turned away sharply, his hands clenching.

  “Dad…”

  “Don’t.” He paced, whirled, clenching his hands in his hair. “I can’t…I can’t think of her.”

  Kallie’s phone buzzed, and out of habit she pulled it out and then looked down. She frowned at it—then froze.

  “What is it?” Her father’s voice was low.

  “Nothing.”

  “Kallie, I know you.”

  “It’s…Liam wants me to go to the hospital.”

  “Damn! Your mother? Helen, I mean.”

  “My mother,” Kallie said, steadily looking at her father. “She is my mother, no matter who gave birth to me. And…no. It’s Jeanna and Lisa.”

  “But—”

  “They’re asking for me, I guess, and it’s enough that the cops think I was involved. Liam says he can get me out of it.”

  “Before daylight?”

  Kallie hesitated. She didn’t want her father to worry, and yet she didn’t know how much Petra could hear. Now was not the time to admit Caleb’s suspicions. “I think so,” she said finally. “I’ll go…soon.”

  “You should go now. The sooner you’re back, the sooner I’ll stop worrying.”

  “The sooner I go, the more time you’ll have alone with your thoughts,” Kallie countered him. “Dad…”

  “What, Kallie?” His voice was bitter. “What can you say?”

  “I can say that I know how much Mom meant to you,” Kallie said finally.

  “You think that makes me feel better?”

  “I think you’re trying to tell yourself that she wasn’t the woman you wanted to marry, and you’re wrong.” Kallie saw his face go white, and forged on, hoping she was doing the right thing. “I really think so, Dad.”

  “If I think that I lost…” His voice broke, and he sat heavily on the couch.

  “The love of your life?” Kallie asked.

  When he looked up, his eyes were haunted. She had to mak
e herself walk across the room to sit by him, and she took his hand. “It’ll be better,” she told him quietly, “if you admit it. She is the love of your life. I know it even if you don’t want to believe it.”

  “And now she’s gone.”

  “She’s not.”

  “Petra can’t—” He swallowed. “We should go down there now and finish this. She can’t fix it, Kallie. She would have said anything to make you spare her life, and I was too weak to do what needed to be done. She can’t fix this. No one can.”

  “I think it can be fixed,” Kallie said fiercely. “And I think if anyone can fix it, she will.”

  Her father punched the door, making Kallie jump. There was a dent in the strong, heavy metal. “Why would she? Answer me that. She knows if she leaves things as they are, she punishes me for loving Helen, and she punishes Helen for having my love. She knows that as long as the war continues, you’re weaker than she is. She’ll never help you willingly, Kallie. Not for anything.”

  “I think she will,” Kallie said slowly.

  “Why? Give me one good reason why she would.” He puffed out a frustrated sigh. “Kallie, it’s important that you face the truth.”

  “I think there’s more to her than we see right now.” She wasn’t exactly sure how to explain, but she felt in inside, like a gut feeling you couldn’t reason with.

  “Don’t let her words sway you. You have none of the edge she had in her youth.”

  “Is that why you looked so scared in the club?” Kallie asked him sharply. She was almost pleased to see him shrink away from her. She did have edge. She needed to believe she had the strength she needed to get through this war, or whatever it was now.

  “I…never wanted to see you become a vampire.” His voice was unsteady. “You know that.”

  “But I am one. And neither of us can undo that.” She didn’t want to blame him, but this was her destiny. How could it not be?