Blood Hunter (The Grandor Descendant Series)

by Stoires, Bell

  “Ragon,” she breathed, her eyes darting to his face before she scanned every inch of him.

  He looked dreadful; two of the Triad members were supporting his weight. There were dark bags under his eyes bruised eyes, and his face was paler than ever she had seen before. Dried blood was caked around his nose, while his skin still bore the impressions the spelled silver hawthorn tree had left on his arms and ankles.

  When the Triad members had moved closer to her, she reached out to Ragon and without meaning to, time suddenly stood still. In that moment her senses were more acute to her magic than ever before, and she looked at Ragon, seeing his frozen form and tried desperately to unfreeze only him.

  “Please Ragon, unfreeze,” she breathed.

  She was concentrating hard and then suddenly Ragon stirred, as if woken from a dream.

  “What are we going to do?” she cried, trying desperately to pull against the chains that bound her, hoping to reach him, sure that if she could just touch his fingertip, everything would be alright.

  Slowly Ragon looked around, realising that everyone in the room was frozen, except for Ari and himself.

  “What do they want?” he asked, his voice a barely audible whisper.

  “Me,” she said, letting out a small sob. “They said that want me to stay with them. They offered me my life… but not yours; they said you have to die for breaking the Final Death Laws.”

  Ragon’s head dropped but then he looked up at Ari.

  “You are going to agree to stay with them,” he said slowly, as if each word he spoke cost him greatly.

  There was no hint of a negotiation; he spoke with such determination that for a moment, Ari found herself nodding her head mindlessly.

  “Wait, what? No!” she exclaimed, reaching her hand out still further.

  “Now is not the time for you to be head strong,” said Ragon; his voice was shaky as though he was on the verge of passing out, and yet it was resolute. “I need you to promise me that you will not sacrifice yourself.”

  “I can’t do that. I don’t want to stay here with these monsters; I don’t want to live without you.”

  At her words Ragon’s eyes suddenly became hard.

  “We are not soul mates Ariana; I like you, but you will not die for such childish feelings. Don’t be stupid,” he spat.

  “I’m not being stupid. How can you think I would want to live as a prisoner to these monsters? We need to think of a way to get out of here.”

  “You are being stupid. These are the Ancients. There is no escape; there is no way out.”

  “But you can’t just give up like that,” said Ari, still reaching out for him.

  “Ari, I gave up a long time ago. I’m a vampire. We don’t have feelings, not real ones. Being with you just confirmed that.”

  “You’re just saying that; you don’t mean it,” Ari said, fighting back the tears that threatened to pour down her face.

  “I wish I was, but I’m not. I have lived long enough to know what true love is.”

  Ari shook her head violently; what was Ragon saying?

  “You don’t mean it,” she said again, shaking her head so fiercely that she felt sick. “You can’t. You’re just saying that so I don’t die. You just want me to live.”

  Ragon let out a small laugh. It was a hollow sound, as if all the emotion had drained from him and he was now only an empty vessel.

  “It seems cruel to make you sacrifice yourself for something that isn’t real,” he said, now turning his head away from her. “How did you think this was going to end? You are a human and I am a vampire. We were never going to end up living happily ever after. Why do you think I haven’t wanted to turn you? I would have stayed with you for a few more years, but not much more. Soon… soon you would have started to age and… and I wouldn’t have wanted you anymore.”

  At these words Ari felt her heart breaking, as though everything she thought she knew was falling apart at the seams. One last time she stretched her hand out, feeling her shoulder almost dislocate as she struggled to reach Ragon. Her fingertips were only an inch away from his; all he needed to do was reach out and she would be able to touch him.

  Instead Ragon recoiled his hand, not looking at her when he said, “I don’t love you, not the way you think I do.”

  Ari was crying when time restarted.

  “Have you reached a decision?” Virgil asked, speaking over Ari’s sobs.

  “Nothing anyone says would make me want to stay with you,” Ari sobbed, now looking determinedly at Ragon.

  At these words Ragon’s head fell, just as the last of his strength seemed to fail him.

  Just before he fell unconscious he whispered, “Don’t do this. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth… I never wanted to spend eternity with you.”

  Ari felt her heart lurch one last time in her chest, twisting painfully at Ragon’s words.

  “Listen to your lover,” said Lace, moving over to Ragon and holding his head upright, so that he appeared to be a lifeless doll. “Surely you would not deny him a dying wish?”

  “I will never join you,” Ari reiterated.

  “Such a waste,” said Virgil, turning to his sister and sighing loudly.

  “So be it,” said Lace, dropping Ragon’s head unmercifully, so it fell back to the ground, shattering the tiles beneath. “Ragon dies at sunrise; perhaps then you will have time to think about your choice. I am sure that watching this vampire die might make you realise that there are worst things than death.” After that Lace turned to her Triad and added, “Take her away, and be sure she has a bird’s eye view of the execution.”

  Again Ari felt her chains tighten as she was dragged from the room.

  “Why are you doing this?” she cried out. “Is it because I’m related to Mary Grandor?”

  All three Ancients turned to look at her, a look of frightful curiosity plain on their faces, but they did not reply.

  For a long time Ari sat watching the shadows dance across the tiny window in her cell. She could tell by the addition of a large glass wall, that this prison was different to her previous cell. The glass behind her was clear, but the pitch black scene it revealed made it appear as if it were just another wall in her chamber. The door to her cell was different also. No longer was it wooden and silver, but large metal bars that were spaced evenly, just like a jail cell. She forced herself to think of these little things, too afraid to confront her real fears.

  Suddenly from beyond her prison bars she spied a person walking towards her. The light shone through the gaps in the metal bars, throwing lined shadow across her face as she looked hopefully up. It wasn’t until the person stood in front of her cell, that Ari realised it was the man who she had seen earlier, the one she had called out to when she had been speaking with the Ancients.

  “What do you want?” she asked, not turning to look at him.

  “What do you want?” the man jeered, his voice calm, almost inquisitive, as though he genuinely desired to know.

  “What does it matter?”

  “What else matters but what you want?” the man replied.

  “Who are you?” she asked, moving closer to him so that she too was sitting on the floor, her knees drawn up to her chin. “Why are you speaking in riddles?”

  “Who I am is not important. Tell me, who is Mary Grandor?”

  Ari shook her head and said, “Why do you want to know?”

  The man cocked his head to the side, seeming to sense Ari’s reluctance to cooperate and said, “I did not put you behind these bars, but if you tell me who she is, I could help you out.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Let’s just say that it isn’t the first time I have heard mention of the name Grandor,” he said. “Think of it as an exchange; you tell me what I want to know, and I will open this door.”

  Slowly he produced a key from inside his jacket pocket; Ari watched him hold up the silver woven wooden object. She was surprised to see that he did not wear gloves to ha
ndle it. If hawthorn and silver was toxic to vampires, did that mean whoever this guy was, he wasn’t a vampire? But then why was he here at the Ancient’s castle? Ari looked desperately at the key and wished she had spent just a few more hours in the library researching the legend about Mary Grandor and the Grandor constellation. The truth was she had no idea about Grandor; all she knew was an old legend attached to a star constellation and that she was related to a witch called Mary Grandor.

  “Deal,” Ari said, slipping her hand through the bars and reaching out for the key.

  The man laughed and put the key back into his pocket saying, “You first.”

  Ari looked around desperately but knew that she could not argue. She had no bargaining chips and she didn’t dare anger the man that may very well hold the key to her and Ragon’s freedom, literally.

  “Ok. But why do you want to know; what have you heard?”

  The man’s eyes narrowed; he was clearly uncertain if he should answer or not.

  Finally he sighed and said, “Very well. I have heard Virgil, Lace and Joseph make mention of the name. They seemed to… fear it.”

  Ari wondered why this man addressed the Ancients, the most powerful vampires in the world, by their first names, almost as if they were his family. And what did he mean; the ancients feared the name Grandor? Did they fear it because of the legend attached to the star constellation or because of Mary Grandor?

  “Well?” he asked, waiting for Ari to speak.

  “After I met Ragon, I started being able to do things,” said Ari.

  “What kind of things?”

  “Things that normal girls can’t do,” said Ari. “We looked into my family history and discovered that back in the 17th century I had a relative called Mary Grandor. She was a witch who was burnt at the stake for practicing magic.”

  “A witch?” said the man, his voice doubtful. “Why would the Ancients fear a mere witch? There are hundreds of witches all across the world. True, each has their own unique ability, but their magic is hardly anything to be feared, least of all by the Ancients. A witch’s magic is easily countered by that of a wraith’s and they have an army of them, should they need to use their services.”

  “Unique abilities? What do you mean?”

  The man rolled his eyes, but he answered by saying, “You know. One witch might be good at casting locator spells, another at determining a person’s aura. All witches can tap into their ancestral magic, but each is gifted with a special ability, one that sets them apart from their comrades. Now, tell me what I want to know. What was Mary Grandor’s magic? Why would the Ancients fear her?”

  “I don’t know,” said Ari, then seeing the man’s disappointment, quickly added, “I mean, I’m not sure that’s all it is. Yes my family name was Grandor, and yes Mary Grandor was burnt for practicing witchcraft, but there is more to it than that. There is star constellation called Grandor as well. I don’t know the full story, but there is a legend attached to the star constellation that says the first immortal was called Grandor. Apparently he created a family and the gods marked his heirs because of it.”

  “You seriously think a bed time story will buy your freedom?” the man asked.

  “It’s the truth and it’s all I know.”

  “I find that very difficult to believe. Surely if what you say is true, then your parents would have told you if you were part of such a legend?” he said.

  “I don’t have any parents; they were killed when I was a baby.”

  “What happened to them?” he asked, and for the first time Ari thought she heard empathy in his voice.

  “They were killed by a vampire.”

  At these words the man’s face changed; he appeared different, even kind, but then he shook himself and his face was once again blank and emotionless.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, standing and moving away from her prison.

  “Wait,” Ari cried after him, shaking the bars of her prison violently, but he did not turn around, simply vanished down the dark hallway.

  Chapter 14 – Death at Sunrise

  ‘Death at Sunrise’ was what the ancients had decreed, and as Ari sat in her cell, she watched as the night sky began to lighten outside, like a beacon to Ragon’s fate. She was curled up on the bench; her jeans were torn and her black silk top was stained and crumpled, giving it the appearance of a pressed flower. The first beam of light that rebounded through the room caught Ari off guard, and she jumped to her feet in surprise. Racing to the glass, she pressed her face and hands against it and looked down. The Ancients had kept their promise; Ari would have a bird’s eye view of Ragon’s execution. Just visible below, crouching in a circular room, was Ragon. The cell he was in was tall and thin, with impervious stone walls that would make climbing out impossible. Ari looked up and saw that there was no roof over his chamber. Soon the sun shifted in the sky, its bright golden glow spilling down the thick stone walls, casting away the shadows which Ragon hid in.

  Ragon screamed and dropped to his knees, just as the sunlight licked at his skin and tore through his flesh.

  “NO!” Ari screamed, tears stinging her face as she watched Ragon burn until he was naught but ash.

  Ari sat bolt upright on the cold stone bench, sweat dripping from her brow and tears clinging to her eyelashes. Wave after wave of violent shivers shook her and she looked around wildly, wanting to make quite certain that what she had just seen was a dream and not reality. She pressed her face against the glass, breathing out a sigh of relief when she saw that it was still dark outside. It was just a nightmare, it was just a nightmare, it was just a nightmare, Ari told herself, over and over again.

  “Morning,” the female Triad member said suddenly, before she burst out laughing. “Well, it’s not morning yet but it will be soon. I’m sure your lover will be looking forward to the new day.”

  Before Ari could respond, someone blurred towards her, opening her prison door in a flash and undoing her chains, so that she was once again bound to one of the Triad members.

  “Come,” he said, “the Ancients wish to offer you one last chance to repent and join them.”

  Ari did not reply but followed obediently. All she could think about were the last words Ragon had spoken to her. She tried hard not to let them dominate her thoughts, but this was difficult. Constantly she had to keep telling herself that he hadn’t meant what he said, that he had said it purely to try to stop her from joining him in death. But the thought of existing without Ragon was unbearable; how was it fair for him to expect her to go on when he wasn’t there?

  Then the last words that Larissa had spoken came crashing down on Ari, and she felt silent tears stream down her face. Ari had asked Larissa if she could go back and choose whether or not to be a vampire again, would she do it. Now Ari asked herself a similar question; if she could go back to her normal life would she? Where she able to, would she go back to studying in Australia, never having met Ragon? The answer was simple, so simple that she was surprised she even needed to ask it in the first place. No! Ari and Ragon were meant to be together. She had watched him for years; watched him sketch at the library and read his long forgotten books. Those moments, the moments that she’d had with him afterwards, when she had found out that he was a vampire and that he had saved her as a baby… they were the best of her life. No matter what he said to her, she could never picture him as the monster he thought he was. He had been there her whole life, and when he had let her into his heart, she had felt love for the first time.

  These thoughts kept her company through the dark hallway, so that when the Triad finally came to a stop, she had no idea where she was. She soon realised that she was standing at the bottom of a steep staircase. In front of her were two cells, separated by a thick panel of glass; they were identical in shape and size, and Ari knew from the familiar cylindrical stone prisons, that Ragon was being kept behind one of them. The other one was clearly meant for her, so that she could watch Ragon die, just as the Ancients had promised.
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br />   “Ariana,” said a booming female voice from somewhere high up; Ari traced the path of the steep stairs to a landing above, where all three of the Ancients stood, looking down on her. “Have you reconsidered child?”

  Still Ari did not speak but shook her head, and watched impressed as Lace seemed angered by this.

  “So be it,” said Virgil. “Such a waste; your line might have been valuable to us.”

  Suddenly Ari felt her chains pull tight as she was thrown into the cell on the left. In an instant the Triad member who had been chained to her, undid the binds and then raced from the room. Ari moved instantly to the glass window and watched as, a second later, Ragon was dragged into the opposite cell. Her hands fell against the glass wall separating her from him, just as tears began to well in her eyes and fall unceremoniously down her shirt, littering the cold stone below.