Bound (The Grandor Descendant Series Book 3)

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Bound (The Grandor Descendant Series Book 3) Page 22

by Stoires, Bell


  One more murder she witnessed, just as carefully planned as the last. This time the victim was a man. Though he could not have been older than fifty, his face was lined like that of someone who had lived with great sadness in a very short time. Ari watched in horror as the vampire expertly tied a noose, again whistling in a cheery manner, before slinging it around the man’s throat, hoisting him up over the banisters of a high barn roof. Unlike the two small children by the stream, the man did not struggle as his life was stolen from him, and Ari thought that it was almost as if he welcomed death.

  There was something odd about these murders. The vampire never drank from his victims, never even bit them, almost as if he were trying to conceal that a vampire was behind their deaths. And every time it was the same man; though she could not see his face, he whistled the same eerie song as he committed the murders.

  Then her vision took her to a cemetery. She was surrounded by people dressed all in black, whose pale faces were punctuated only by puffy eyes that shone with salty tears and red noses. She watched as a large coffin was laid to rest in the ground and an old priest crossed himself and began to chant.

  “Ye’, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

  As the priest spoke, a young man knelt down in front of the grave and cried, his face hung low. When the funeral had finished and the cemetery was deserted, he walked over to two other freshly dug graves next to each other and prayed. She didn’t know how she knew, but she was certain that this man was mourning the passing of the two children and the older man whose murders she had just witnessed. Ari continued to watch him, her heart automatically mimicking his, as it broke from the loss, as if somehow his pain had become hers. When the man looked up, Ari gasped. Though his face was shattered and hollow from sadness, she knew without a shred of doubt who it was- Patrick.

  Ari awoke to the sound of soft knocking on her door. Her eyes tried valiantly to pull the room into focus as she sat bolt upright. A sudden crashing noise sounded. Looking down, she saw the picture of the coven, bits of broken glass from its frame serenading the still smiling faces of the coven.

  “Hang on a minute,” said Ari, moving to the opposite side of the bed and jumping off as she raced to open the door. “Oh, hey,” she said, opening the door wide.

  She was a little surprised to see Ryder, who took one look at her before stepping inside the room. Ari closed the door behind him slowly; she could tell from his ragged appearance and sopping wet clothes that he had been outside all this time.

  “Here,” she said, reaching for some of Ragon’s clothes in her wardrobe and handing them to him.

  “I better not. Patrick will probably think that I’ve been with Ragon too,” he said half-heartedly, trying to manage a smile but failing.

  “Don’t be stupid; you will catch a cold,” she said, temporarily forgetting that her childhood friend was now immortal and as such, impervious to mundane human afflictions like the flu.

  Ryder sighed, took the clothing and changed instantly. Ari had no time to turn around or even cover her eyes, before he was dressed again.

  “What happened?” asked Ryder, staring down at the broken picture frame by her bed.

  The moment Ari’s eyes fell on the image of Patrick, her dream came rushing back to her.

  “Oh, the frame broke,” she said dismissively. “I just had the weirdest dream. I saw Patrick in a cemetery, crying over the bodies of an old man and two small children.”

  “Yea, his whole family died within a week of each other. Patrick told me about it ages ago. He said that when he was still mortal, his little sister and brother drowned and after that his father killed himself from the guilt.”

  “So it really happened?” she asked, slightly surprised. “But in the dream, those people didn’t die by accident or suicide. It was a vampire who killed them.”

  “What? A vampire? What are you talking about?”

  “Just what I said. I had a dream and I saw them being killed,” she said.

  “You mean Patrick didn’t tell you about his past? But then how did you dream that his family had died? Does that mean that you actually saw this, like a vision? But you see the future, not the past.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, considering Ryder’s words; then the text message that Lea had sent her earlier, popped in Ari’s mind. “Lea’s trying to get me to help her to find out what’s happening to all the missing students. She put a spell on me to amplify my premonitions. At least I think she did anyway. Maybe that is messing with my powers?”

  “But, what exactly did you see; who was it who killed them?”

  “I don’t know; I couldn’t see his face,” Ari said in a small scared voice.

  “His face?” said Ryder, and his eyes suddenly became hollow and blank, and he whispered, “Mark,” low under his breath.

  “Mark? His maker? But why would Mark want to kill Patrick’s family?”

  “The night that Patrick turned me, he told me the story of how he had become a vampire. He said that he wanted me to know what I was giving up, that I would be leaving behind my family,” said Ryder. “He had been Mark’s source for a while and Mark kept offering to turn him, but Patrick kept refusing because of his family. When his family died, he finally agreed, because he thought all his pain would go away.”

  “But-”

  “-don’t you see? Mark killed the only thing that was holding Patrick to his humanity. He wanted Patrick and he knew the only way he could get him, was to take away the only things that mattered most to Patrick,” Ryder explained.

  Ari was staring at Ryder in disbelief. She watched as his eyes darted down to the photograph of the coven and then narrowed. In her head, Ari heard the macabre whistling of the man from her vision who had committed the murders; she flashed back to when she had first met Mark and then again when she had spoken to him recently, the same dull tune playing in her mind. In that moment, Ari knew that Ryder was right; Mark had killed Patrick’s family.

  “That bastard! He doesn’t love Patrick. He wants to own him,” said Ryder, his fist bawling at his side.

  “Ryder don’t do anything-” Ari began to say, but Ryder had already blurred out of the room.

  Without pausing to think, Ari raced after him, flinging her hands into the air and hoping desperately that she might freeze Ryder before he was out of her range. But it was too late… he was gone. Ari stared at the empty corridor, thinking fast. In an instant she had moved back into her room and reached for her phone, dialling Ryder’s number hurriedly.

  “Come on, pick up!” she said into the phone, listening pointlessly to the ringing.

  When she heard Ryder’s message machine, she threw her phone uselessly into her pocket, grabbed her coat and ran down the corridor. She was half way to Cruor halls, intent on telling Ragon what had just happened, when she thought to call Patrick. Immediately she dialled his number and waited.

  “Where’s Ryder?” she asked hopefully, panting slightly into the phone when Patrick answered a moment later.

  “How should I know?” Patrick said indifferently.

  “Where are you? Is Mark there with you?”

  “I’m at the library,” Patrick replied. “I have a thesis proposal that I need to fin-”

  “-listen to me Patrick. I had a vision. I saw Mark killing your family and when I told Ryder he-”

  “-what are you talking about?” Patrick asked sharply.

  “Meet me outside the library; I’ll explain everything,” she said, hanging up quickly and turning mid-stride to race back towards the vampire library.

  By the time she reached the library, Patrick was already waiting for her. He was pacing outside, his hands in his pockets as he scanned the grounds for her. When Ari reached him at the entrance to the vampire library she was gasping for air. Ari looked up, noticing that just behind where Patrick stood a notice had been pinned to the library’s glass walls which re
ad, ‘Cruor halls hockey tryouts. Tonight. Come support your team.’

  “What the hell is going on?” he asked.

  Ari paused, clutching painfully at her ribs as she took in deep gulps of cool air that burned her throat.

  “We have to find Mark,” she said. “Ryder thinks he killed your family to be with you.”

  “But that’s ridiculous. Why would he think that?”

  “I had a vision of your family dying, except they didn’t die. They were murdered by a vampire,” Ari said quickly. “It’s a long story, but Lea put a spell on me so that I could have a premonition about the missing students… but I think I saw the past, saw your past.”

  “That makes no sense. Why would Mark kill my family?”

  “So that there was nothing stopping you from wanting to become a vampire,” Ari explained, remembering Ryder’s words. “Ryder said that when you were Mark’s source he kept offering to turn you, but that you refused because of your family. I think he made it look like an accident so you wouldn’t suspect him.”

  Slowly Patrick’s face fell. His eyes had hardened and he stared off into the distance, as if remembering some forgotten truth.

  “We have to get back to your house. I think Ryder has gone to confront Mark,” she said, recapturing Patrick’s attention.

  “But Mark is hundreds of years older than him. He’ll kill him.”

  “Wait,” Ari cried out after him, when Patrick had turned to leave. “Take me with you. Mark is older than both of you; I can help.”

  Patrick hesitated but then raced back to her, glanced around once to check that no one was watching and swung her onto his back, speeding away.

  Ari wasn’t sure how long it had taken them to get to Mark’s house. When they finally arrived, the house was silent, and Patrick placed Ari onto her feet and hurried to open the door.

  “You stupid, love struck, fledgling,” yelled Mark, from somewhere inside the house. “I should have killed you when I first saw you and Patrick together. He was never yours.”

  Ari raced into the living room, where Mark was hovering menacingly over Ryder, his fangs drawn.

  “Stop!” yelled Patrick. “Mark, what the hell is going on?”

  Both Ryder and Mark looked up in surprise. Ryder’s eyes shone with temporary relief until Mark reached down and struck him hard in the head. For the briefest of moments, Ryder’s eyes rested on Patrick’s, but then they became unfocused and he slumped to the floor.

  “Your stupid creation just attacked me,” Mark said defensively, when Patrick had rushed to Ryder’s side.

  “Is it true?” Patrick asked quietly, now holding Ryder’s unconscious body in his hands, as thick tears spilled from his eyes.

  “You can’t honestly believe-” Mark began to say, but Ari moved closer, her scared eyes fixed on Mark when she said, “-I saw you.”

  “You saw what, blood bag?” Mark spat, advancing on her.

  Before Ari could respond, Patrick was on his feet, racing to intercept Mark.

  “Is it true?” Patrick yelled again.

  “This is all his fault,” Mark yelled, blurring back to Ryder and grabbing his body as he swung it hard against the wall.

  There was a tremendous crash as Ryder fell against the wall, sending bricks crumbling and plaster dust filling the air. Ryder let out a small whimper but before he could recover, Mark was on him, his hands drawn tight around Ryder’s throat as he began squeezing. Ari’s hands were in the air and she was just about to stop time, when Patrick blurred over to Mark, throwing punch after punch at his maker until finally Mark released Ryder.

  “I did it to be with you,” Mark said, crouching down low and bearing his fangs defensively. “I love you.”

  “That’s not love,” Patrick growled. “You don’t even know what love is. How could you? How could you be so empty, such a monster, that you killed my family?”

  Slowly the pair began to circle each other, like two lions preparing to strike. When Mark was finally far enough away, Ari skidded across the wooden floors to where Ryder lay. Though she shook him fiercely, Ryder did not wake, and for one terrible moment, she feared the worst.

  “Patrick,” Ari yelled, her worried eyes looking up from Ryder in horror. “I think…”

  The moment Patrick looked down, Mark struck. In an instant he had lashed out, his fangs sinking through Patrick’s throat, just as the odd sound of metal slashing against stone, assaulted Ari’s ears. With a thud Patrick fell to the ground, and then Mark’s greedy eyes fell on Ryder. He seemed not even to notice Ari, who looked up at him in horror.

  She held her hands up, this time ready for Mark, but once again something stopped her from releasing her power. Something had hit her hard in the side and she flew across the room. From where she had landed at the edge of the sofa, Ari looked back and saw that Ryder was conscious; he had pushed her out of the line of fire. There was the faintest trace of a smile on Ryder’s white lips, but this was quickly replaced by Mark’s shadow, growing larger and larger as he advanced on him.

  “No,” Ari cried.

  Neither Ryder nor Ari had time to respond; Mark’s body was half way through the air, his fist drawn back and ready to strike Ryder down, with one final blow. Then, just before Mark could reach Ryder, Patrick was there. He raced towards them, his hand held straight out as he caught Mark hard across the throat, gripping onto his head and then flinging his body in an opposite direction. There was an eerie tearing noise, and when Patrick released Mark, his body fell to the ground. Ari didn’t glance down at Mark; her eyes were wide and fixed on Patrick’s hands, from which Mark’s head was dangling.

  “Oh Jesus,” Patrick said, flinging the head of his maker away so that it joined the corpse.

  “It’s ok, it’s ok,” Ryder cooed, struggling to his feet as he raced to Patrick’s side. “We’re ok. He’s gone now. He’s dead. He can’t hurt us anymore.”

  Patrick slumped to his knees and hung his head, saying, “It’s not alright. Don’t you realise what I’ve done?”

  “He was evil; he killed your whole family-” Ryder began, but Ari suddenly spoke and both vampires looked at her.

  “-he killed his maker… Patrick’s a blood hunter now,” she said.

  Chapter 12- The Circle of Thirteen

  “I don’t understand,” Ragon said half an hour later, when Ari, Patrick and Ryder had told him what had happened.

  The four of them were inside Ragon’s room in Cruor halls. At Ragon’s words, both Ryder and Ari had looked up at him, while Patrick sat on the floor, his head in his hands.

  “Why wouldn’t you have gotten me to come with you?” asked Ragon.

  “There was no time,” Ari said defensively. “What’s done is done. We need to find a way to help Patrick, not worry about the past.”

  “Speaking of the past,” Ragon said, “since when do you have visions of the past?”

  “I don’t,” Ari began to say, until she stopped herself; clearly she did have visions of the past and not just the past, the way, way before. She had seen Patrick’s family being killed. Patrick was at least a couple of hundred years old; that meant that she had seen back a long way. “Lea, she put a spell on me, one to open my mind up to clairvoyant vibrations. She was hoping that I might be able to see what’s happened to all the missing students. She thought it might help to amplify my powers, so that if I touched something of one of the students which went missing, I would see where they were, if they’re still alive. But I guess I had the premonition of Mark and Patrick’s past instead.”

  Ragon was staring at her in disbelief, clearly torn between reprimanding her and discussing her new found power.

  “How do you feel?” asked Ryder, reaching a shaking hand out to Patrick.

  “Betrayed,” Patrick responded, not looking up, his head still in his hands. “I feel betrayed and stupid.”

  “I can ask Lea about the blood hunter curse,” Ari said, reaching for her phone. “Maybe there is a way to-”

  “-the onl
y way to stop it is to kill me,” Patrick said dully. “Or transfer the power into someone else.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Ryder said defensively. “Maybe you won’t become a blood hunter. It was an accident after all; it’s not like you set out to destroy Mark for his power.”

 

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