The Truth

by Marcus Brown

  The Nightwalker Mysteries

  Part Two

  ~The Truth~

  By Marcus Brown

  Junction Publishing

  New Zealand

  Copyright © 2017 by Marcus Brown.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

  Marcus Brown/Junction Publishing

  Waihi

  New Zealand/3610

  The Nightwalker Mysteries – The Truth

  marcusbrownpll@outlook.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Ordering Information:

  Quantity sales. Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the “Special Sales Department” at the address above.

  TNMTT / Marcus Brown -- 1st Ed.

  Dedicated to everyone who has supported me thus far.

  It means more than you will ever know.

  Thank you!

  &

  Karen Michelle – Sending you lots of love and luck for the battle ahead - I know you’ll win it! x

  &

  Tammy – for hating cliff-hanger endings so much, she nagged me to get Part Two finished.

  Love you x

  Prologue

  It was pitch black when the silver Falcon jet landed at the private strip just outside Vancouver’s city limits.

  Just the pilot, co-pilot and one flight attendant had boarded the plane with him.

  It was safer that way Kane, had decided.

  Too many beating hearts were distracting and he needed to focus his attentions on finding the boy.

  He was too curious to discover why Constance and Romeo Benitez had snuck off in the dead of night and made their way to this place.

  It had been far too long since he’d last eaten, and over the centuries, he’d learned the pitfalls of ignoring his hunger the hard way.

  The dangers of abstaining for too long a period rendered him almost animalistic, his ravenous cravings uncontrollable. He had to feed within the next hour, or he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.

  “We’ve had clearance, and you may disembark at once, Sir.” The pretty redhead flashed her pearly white grin. “But before you leave, is there anything else I can get for you?”

  Pausing for a moment and thinking over his response. “No, thank you, Tiffany.” He unbuckled the safety belt, standing gracefully, his full height revealed to be six and a half feet. “You’ve been most helpful.”

  She looked up, the attraction to him blindingly obvious.

  In the last fifty years or so, he’d only been seen in public a handful of times and not even his snivelling assistant, Carlo, knew what he truly looked like, but he had a feeling that would soon change.

  He lived in a world, hidden from humans for generations, tasked with enforcing the laws Empusa had written, and he’d found it easier dealing with insubordinates than with their leader herself.

  Over the years, they’d tired of one another’s company, finally finding peace on opposite sides of the world, but without fail, every hundred years, she travelled across the vast oceans to claim a human soul, an offering to her mother Hecate.

  Kane knew the only reason Empusa travelled the great distance was to annoy him in person – it would have been so much easier to have the boy shipped to her, but she wouldn’t make it that easy, she never did.

  Trying to stay hidden in a world ruled by technology had not been easy, but he couldn’t afford for his image to be circulated in modern society– his enemies would track him in a heartbeat.

  Fabulously wealthy with a fleet of jets waiting to take him to homes on every continent across the planet and blessed with movie star looks, by today’s standards, he’d be considered quite the catch

  A flawless muscular, but toned body -- a welcome advantage of receiving the gift so long ago, hair black as night, full lips and exotic looking eyes, no longer their natural deep shade of brown, but a vibrant red, usually hidden by the latest designer sunglasses. In this day and age, he thought to himself, nobody would give a damn what colour his eyes were.

  “I’ll see you on our return journey,” he said, striding past Tiffany and toward the plane doors.

  He’d been known to succumb to temptation before, but his kind were once again in the glare of the media, their secret world under threat, and he had to contain the fallout before Empusa arrived. The last thing he wanted was her arriving before she was meant to – he’d never hear the last of it.

  “We’re to stand-by as requested,” she said.

  Kane’s nostrils flared. He had picked up her delicious scent and wanted to drink from her there and then.

  “Good,” he replied, eager to get out of the limiting confines of the cabin.

  “Anything you need in the meantime, please don’t hesitate to call,” she offered seductively, pressing her card into his hand.

  “Thank you.” He bowed his head toward her and closed his hand over the card, crumpling it, no intention of engaging with her before the return journey. “Until then.”

  He needed to get away from her and stepped off the plane, jumping into the waiting limousine, anxious to retreat to the seclusion of the castle. He hoped Carlo had made the necessary arrangements – it was time to feed.

  Chapter One

  It excited him when they wouldn’t go quietly. The thrill of the hunt, and the inevitable realisation he saw in their eyes, knowing they were about to die.

  He sat back and watched the news broadcast on CTV. He loathed the anchorwoman. She seemed so straight-laced, the cutesy tone she spoke with drove him to distraction.

  His victim’s name trailed along the bulletin at the bottom of the screen.

  So, her name was Jillian Tremblay, and she was mother to a young daughter. It didn’t matter that much, but it was always more of a thrill when he could put a name to his victims. It gave him much more pleasure – the knowledge her death had caused such devastation. But, in some twisted sense, she’d left her child home alone so he rationalized that she deserved it.

  She had tasted good – so young and nubile – the flesh so tender. He savoured the almost erotic feeling he got when her blood hit the back of his throat. The urge always too strong to resist – he didn’t know much about the world he now inhabited, but knew enough to know, killing a human wouldn’t be tolerated. The price he would pay if it was discovered he had taken a human life would be certain death, but nobody seemed to care when his life was cruelly snatched away all those years before.

  He had a wife, a family, an amazing life with people that loved him. And in a way, taking human life with the threat of exposing his own kind bordered on excitement and was the best revenge he could think of – his own kind were mostly a mystery to him, but he knew they existed, scared to come out of the shadows and announce their presence to the world.

  It would make it so much easier if his kind could co-exist with the humans – maybe then he’d be able to go home and be with his own family.

  Their faces flashed through his mind, and for the briefest of moments, his human side superseded his va
mpirical nature and he felt the tiniest ounce of guilt for brutally murdering Jillian Tremblay.

  *

  His memories were too traumatic to recall at times, remembering the wonderful life he’d been forced to leave behind.

  Waking up to complete darkness, realising he was confined within a tiny space as he pushed his hands as far as they could go, the walls of the coffin preventing any further movement.

  An overriding instinct to claw his way free took over as he scratched at the oak coffin lid. It hadn’t taken long to claw through the wood, but he wondered why he felt no pain doing so.

  The terror of being enclosed was the worst feeling he had ever experienced and the stuff of his nightmares. Claustrophobia took a deep hold and he began to panic, not understanding how he’d managed to end up buried alive.

  He knew he’d been buried, but he could hear everything from above, the cars driving past in the distance, smell the local wildlife as they ran overhead. His senses were more alert than they’d ever been before.

  Continuing to claw his way out, he could smell the air above him, but panic took hold again as he wondered if he’d ever manage to pull himself free before he ran out of air.

  His family popped into his thoughts – were they okay, where were they? He had to get out and find out and make sure they were safe.

  The moment his head broke through the mud, he should have been gasping, fighting to take air into his lungs, but he didn’t have the urge to breathe and couldn’t understand why.

  Finally freeing himself from his muddy prison, he looked down at his chest, but there was no rise or fall. He wasn’t breathing.

  It was seconds before the searing pain manifested itself -- his transformation into a creature of the dark still vivid and forever etched into his mind, but that wasn’t the worst part -- retaining so much of his former self – the same thoughts, emotions and desires had been the hardest.

  Maybe he was asleep, he thought to himself, and the whole thing was a horrific nightmare he hadn’t woken from yet. That’s right, he told himself. Just a terrible nightmare and I’ll wake up anytime now and everything will be fine.

  But it wasn’t a nightmare.

  He realised he was surrounded by gravestones, some old and decaying, obviously hundreds of years old, some new and shining brightly, the words carved into the stone glinting in the dark.

  What am I doing here? He wondered.

  Instinctively, he twisted around and looked down at the words before him, fancy gold lettering cast in black granite.

  Here Lies

  EDUARDO BECK

  1980 - 2012

  Wonderful Husband and Father.

  Taken too soon.

  The shock hit him like a tornado.

  He was dead, but how was that possible when he was standing there, feeling more vibrant and alive than ever before?

  He spun slowly, taking in his surroundings, he could see everything so clearly now -- as though a filter had been placed over his eyes, allowing him to see every single colour, magnificently displayed around him, even in the darkness of the cemetery.

  He walked around the graveyard, taking in its macabre beauty, and when he finally allowed himself to believe what he was witnessing, the events of his human death crashed back to him.

  Dropping to his knees, he remembered every minute detail, the intruder coming through the bathroom window, the shock of finding him in his family home.

  He’d charged at the man, unwavering in his belief that he would do anything to protect his family, but he’d been overpowered in an instant.

  He remembered the man biting him, the pain immense, even as he tried to fight him off -- the weird gulping sounds the intruder made, but the strangest part of all, the part that stuck out from it all, was the intruder running his tongue over the wound before shoving him down the stairs.

  That was his last memory until he woke in his coffin, trapped and buried six feet underground.

  It hadn’t been long before he’d picked up the scent of blood. A stray dog stood outside the cemetery gates, relieving himself would be his first meal. The poor animal hadn’t even seen him coming as he grabbed for its throat, breaking its neck, not realising his own strength.

  That was the first time he’d tasted blood, and it wouldn’t be long before he would take his first drink from a human.

  *

  Five long years had passed and Eduardo had never stopped loving, or caring for his family, and despite what he was, he knew he never would.

  They were all he had in life and death. Unable to move on, he continually yearned to be with them again, but it could never be.

  He’d watched from the shadows as their lives fell apart, but over time, they rebuilt themselves, packing their belongings into a U-Haul trailer and relocating to the last place he ever expected they’d go to, Vancouver.

  He’d followed them north, and considered revealing himself to them so many times. Maybe they could accept him for who and what he was now and be a happy family again. Deep down he knew the romanticized version floating about in his mind was just a pipe dream, especially as he hadn’t learned to master full self-control around humans.

  How could they ever understand what he was, and with no other choice, he left them to live out their lives, but he vowed to stay close.

  Chapter Two

  Drawn back to the present, Eduardo watched Selena Buckland’s television interview – curious to know if she had truly sensed him, or if she was just another charlatan, cheating money from gullible people with the promise of contact with dead friends or relatives in the afterlife.

  He had to be clever and find out what she knew, but if she was what she proclaimed to be, he needed to be on guard.

  Killing the girl had been unwise, he realised that now, but he’d watched her pawing at the local rednecks in that sleazy hole of a bar and wanted to teach her a lesson.

  She’d even tried it on with him, foolish girl, but he’d knocked her back, and even though the temptation was great -- he could see the jugular vein in her neck through her pale, almost translucent skin, he decided against it.

  It had been unwise to linger outside the bar, especially as he hadn’t fed before leaving his penthouse at sunset.

  Quite by chance, he’d picked up her scent as she staggered out of the bar, wobbling down the street in shoes she really couldn’t walk in, especially being so drunk.

  His lack of control had brought unwanted attention, but in the future, he would have to be more careful – leaving her displayed in public like a work of art was arrogant, but he’d realised too late.

  The coroner believed her wounds were caused by local wildlife and he knew once further tests were run on what was left of her body, they’d realised how wrong they were.

  He pushed the button on the remote control, turning it off, and rose from the comfortable leather recliner.

  A battle raged constantly inside him – fighting the urge to use his preternatural powers as opposed to the more mundane ways of living his life. He figured as long as he didn’t allow his abilities to take over completely, a part of him, even if it was only a small part, would be anchored in the human world.

  He climbed the staircase to the roof terrace of his penthouse apartment and called forth the wind, taking flight.

  *

  Minutes later, Eduardo was standing outside the old property opposite the town square, the tacky neon light in the front window irritating him.

  He walked slowly to the front door, trying the handle, pleased but surprised to find the door opened without being forced. It creaked as he pushed it open, and needing no invitation like shown in the movies, he stepped inside, the overpowering smell of damp and mould offending him.

  “You’re not welcome here, Nightwalker,” the old woman yelled from the top of the staircase. The one-eyed cat she held in her arms hissed and jumped from her grasp, running along the landing and disappearing behind an open door.

  “I’m not here to harm you, Selena.”r />
  “You killed that girl,” she accused, pointing her crooked finger at him. “And you couldn’t harm me if you tried.”

  “How is it, you know what I did?” Eduardo asked. “What are you?”

  “It matters not what I am,” she replied.

  “But you know about my world, that much is clear.”

  “I’ve forgotten more about our world than you’ll ever know, fiend,” Selena said tellingly. “Now get out of my house before you find out exactly what I am.”

  “Not until you’ve answered my questions, old woman,” he said defiantly, standing his ground.

  “I’ll humour you, just this once.” She stared, seemingly studying his face. “What is it you want to know?”

  “I want to know what your visions have told you, and what you believe is coming?”

  “Empusa awakens, and because of your children, she will come for us all.”

  “My daughter, you mean? What does my daughter have to do with any of this?”

  “Your son is promised to Empusa, but his fate is not yet clear to me.”

  He staggered backwards. “My son, that’s not possible,” he said.

  “Nothing is impossible in our world, Eduardo Beck.”

  “My son died a long time ago.”

  “Your son is not dead, he was stolen from you.”

  “You twist the truth.”

  “I twist nothing,” Selena said, “but see what I need to see. Your son is not dead -- do not lie to me, because I always know.”

  The old woman stepped slowly down the stairs, only stopping once she’d reached the bottom step.

  “If you know so much, witch, where is my son?”

  “He’s here, in this town, right now, with his twin sister.”

  “That cannot be,” he said, shocked. “Chloé was never told about him. Lara and I decided it best not to – we didn’t want her growing up with the guilt of knowing what happened.”