by W. J. May
If only we could’ve controlled them.
Marcus barked in laughter and shook his head. Even now, alone and without a plan, he was thinking of how he could use this attack to his advantage. The desire to be the dominant race, to be king of all, was etched in his every bone, and the fact that he was now prey to something even more superior bothered him tremendously.
The Druids. I need to find the Druids.
But even that idea seemed senseless. James was the last Druid, and he hadn’t seen the man since the nightmare had started. Atlanta was missing, too. Marcus knew James was dead, but Atlanta… what had happened to her?
Not that I would know. I’ve been locked up in here for a fortnight.
Even though the hybrids had fallen, he had taken quite a beating. It had taken all his strength to storm out of the lair and find his way here, to hide in the shadows and regain his strength. His healing had taken time, more time than he was used to, and he knew it was because of the poison that coursed through Adelaide’s hybrids.
He’d been frozen by her charms before.
An anger burned deep inside him as he walked down the empty corridors of Calen High. Every few steps, his eyes would catch the decaying corpse of a fallen human. He had fed on the ones still alive when he’d arrived.
Students torn to shreds, teachers gasping blood. They were going to die anyway, and he’d needed all the blood he could get to recover. Now their corpses looked like mangled pieces of flesh, the rot they emitted burning his sinuses.
We need to regroup.
Marcus scoffed at the thought. Regroup where? And how? He didn’t even know if there was anyone alive who could fight alongside him. He knew he couldn’t trust anyone other than the elders of his own group, yet he doubted even their survival. He was going to have to find out either way. They would need everyone able to fight against Adelaide and the hybrids.
Inside the nearly unmoving corridors, the whistling sound of water running down the broken dispensers barely muffled the screaming outside. The costume of the school mascot lay on the floor of the hallway, torn to pieces. Marcus walked on the ceramic floors that were tiled in blue and red squares, between open lockers with their hinges scattered around the floor. Pages torn from books were dust-ridden and flying about. He made his way to the back exit of the school.
It was nearly dusk outside, the crickets barely whispering as the football goalposts turned a pale shade of yellow. Marcus sprinted towards the posts, one after the other, testing his strength and making sure he was fully recovered before he could venture beyond the protection of Calen High.
I need to find the others.
Even though his centuries’-old pride whispered at the back of his mind that he alone could take down an empire of hybrids, he remembered he was also the reason this was happening. It was his blood that gave birth to the malice that encompassed the city.
It might not be directly, but he was responsible for everything.
He couldn’t shake the thought that, without the Druids, they couldn’t have stood a chance against the hybrids a century before. He remembered how the Werewolves had fought alongside the Druids in the insurgence, a massive force he’d marveled at. Back then, it had seemed like the Vampires were actually holding everyone down. Marcus scowled at the memory. They’d been so helpless back then.
As they were helpless now.
The level of humiliation Adelaide had thrown upon his race enraged him.
Never again.
He leapt from the tall football bleachers, frowning as his eyes glowed a bloody shade of red. His movements were swift as he dashed across the field and left the temporary haven of Calen High. He roamed every street and every rooftop of every tower in Calen. And as his feet pounded the concrete of the streets, his eyes could still see his own Vampires glaring at him as he ran. Some tried to reach for him, and he slashed through them as if they were paper, ripping them apart with a sickening ease he took no comfort in.
They’re not mine anymore. They’re compelled.
Marcus searched many places before finally reaching the three towers where James Skolar had been. The dust seemed less dense here, and the green of the forests behind him glowed in the morning sun. His eyes were met by the flickering of red light on top of one of the roofs, a little underneath from where the sun was shining.
He dashed into the building, and within seconds found himself crashing through the rooftop door. His feet crunched on the pebble-covered floor, his eyes catching sight of the destruction across the neighboring towers.
There’s been a fight here.
The ground to his right had been carved with a body that was missing, and his keen eyesight caught droplets of caked blood on the pebbles around. There were stains of blood at the right corner of the roof, and he caught a whiff of something pungent, something dark.
From the corner of his eye, he caught movement.
Marcus turned quickly, immediately ready for a fight, fangs stretched and craving to sink themselves in flesh. A few yards away his eyes fell on a body, motionless except for the rise and fall of labored breathing.
Marcus relaxed, retracting his fangs as the harsh reality sunk in.
Ryan Toller.
Chapter 3
Darian’s presence always demanded respect.
As the leader of The Coven, one could not deny the power that seemed to ooze from him wherever he went. His slightly broad shoulders and piercing pale-blue eyes demanded attention, and always seemed attentive and assertive. His light-brown hair was sparse on the sides and stood up on the top of his head. His sideburns reached just under his earlobes; his beard a mere shade over his angular cheekbones. He was young, but the knowledge he possessed was well beyond his years.
Before Raul had come in, Darian had gathered the eldest of the Druids in his region to discuss their interference with the conflict that had been raging in a small town in Armenia. The Vampires in the surrounding area had decided to assert their dominance and attacked, wiping out the entire town.
Darian, obviously distressed over the issue, felt a need to send some of the Druids over to investigate and resolve the problem. And, if necessary, remain there to protect the town. The leaders he was meeting with were mostly in agreement with everything he was suggesting. However, they were reluctant to go there themselves and the matter was too small to require all of them to attend to it.
Except Darian felt it a responsibility of his own to take even the most extreme measures to make sure the Vampires weren’t harming, let alone killing people The Coven was meant to be protecting. He made it a point to use instances like this to make an example of those who fell out of line. It wasn’t because of the responsibility of being the leader, which was to ensure the safety of the people, but more the nature of who Darian was. The combination of duty and the guilt had been passed down through the centuries, generation to generation, until it ran in his blood.
Although only twenty, what he lacked in experience he made up for in knowledge that could be sensed from merely looking in his eyes. Darian’s wisdom exceeded that of men twice his age. The man knew how to think things through, and his insight to the others was never challenged—often—anymore. His young intelligence was incomprehensible to many.
When Raul walked in, Darian immediately noticed the drop of sweat sitting on the man’s forehead. He could hear his friend’s heavy breathing disguised in the controlled slow pace that Raul tried to maintain.
“Lost in the labyrinth again?” Darian asked, addressing his friend in a confident and comforting tone.
“My memory of those doors is rusty,” Raul replied.
“Well, welcome back, friend!” Darian said, pointing to the chair across from him, signaling for Raul to sit down.
Raul gazed at the others and then back at Darian, his lips stretched in a slight smile. “Happy I’m back?”
“Your disappearance made me fear the worst,” Darian responded.
“I’m still around.” Raul smiled, but Darian didn�
�t miss the exhaustion in his friend’s eyes. “It was impossible… even miles around Calen, there was no way I could reach here. Our signals have been jammed.”
Darian wasn’t surprised. “All right, gentlemen, shall we continue this meeting another time? I’d like a private word with Raul, here.”
The leaders left with displeased looks on their faces. It was no secret they despised the fact that a man much younger than they, for some even half their age, was calling and dismissing them, ordering and disordering them whenever he wanted. However, they knew better than to act on their discontent. Darian knew that. They all recognized the power he possessed, and knew that, because he was the descendant of the former Coven, he was the only one fit to lead them.
They left the room with Darian sitting across Raul. The formality dissipated the moment the door was closed and the friendship between the two showed. Darian got up and walked over to one of the paintings on his left, then slid it down from its frame. There was the classic safe behind the painting; however, this one didn’t hide any gold, but a bottle of wine and glasses.
He brought the wine and sat closer to Raul. “A drink to celebrate your return, my friend.”
“After what I’ve just seen, one bottle isn’t going to be enough,” Raul replied, his words followed with a sigh as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.
Months before Darian had given Raul, a junior Druid, the task of tracking down the settlers in the west and mainly in America, to try to find out where the concentration of Vampires and Werewolves had settled. Raul had communicated with Darian many times during the long months of his journey. However, upon reaching Calen, all communication had been lost.
The elders who had sat around the table had never heard of the city of Calen. The despair in Raul’s voice seemed unnecessary to all of them because the city was foreign. However, Darian knew Raul had come back to confirm what had troubled Darian’s mind for years.
Darian was known to be a very patient man. Even after seeing the distress on Raul’s face, he didn’t ask for the news immediately. Rather, the two drank the wine and talked endlessly until Raul’s face softened and the harshness eased. Darian didn’t need to hear Raul’s story before attempting to find a solution. Rather, every small expression on Raul’s face was a sentence that spoke to him on its own, and in response Darian had already begun planning his next step. As Raul was rambled on, Darian’s mind began working in a completely different direction.
“All right, friend, it’s time,” Darian said. Raul immediately straightened in his seat and pushed his empty glass away. “What happen in Calen?” Darian asked.
“Do you know James Skolar?” Raul replied.
“I’ve heard of the Skolars. They were the leaders of the American Druids a long time ago. What about him?”
“I found him when I reached Calen or, more specifically, he found me. Apparently, his is—was—the only remaining family of Druids there, and for the past century they’ve managed to live in complete harmony with both the Vampires and Werewolves.”
“You said was the only family.” Darian noted the look on Raul’s face, and didn’t like it. Something wasn’t right.
“That’s why I came rushing back,” replied Raul. “James Skolar is dead. His niece, the only remaining Druid, is nowhere to be found.” He sucked in a sharp breath. “and Calen is in ruins.”
Darian’s pale blue eyes grew paler. This was not good. There had been no warning of what might happen. No one had asked for help. Had there been no time? “What happened?”
Raul shook his head solemnly. “My friend, I was in the middle of it when it all happened. James told me about the insurgence that happened in Calen a century ago. He said the Werewolves were chained by the Vampires before the Druids arrived and set them free. However, between the two events, Adelaide the witch used the blood of the eldest Vampire, Marcus, to create a hybrid of both Vampire blood and wicked witchery. It—”
“Did you say Adelaide?” Darian interrupted.
“Yes, Adelaide.”
Darian felt his hand ball into tight fists. “What happened in the insurgence? How did it end?”
“Adelaide escaped when the Druids captured and locked the hybrids behind a door they built in a place called the Dome. Now, after they’ve managed to keep it closed for more than a century, the door has been opened, and the hybrids are out in Calen.” Raul continued talking about the story James had told him, but Darian’s mind drifted elsewhere. His thoughts were fixated on Adelaide.
Finally, he thought. I have found you at last, Adelaide.
END OF EXCERPT
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