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Becoming Valkyrie (Pyralis Book 1)

Page 25

by Brandy L. Cunningham


  Gasping, I lifted my gaze to his. “My mother? How? How can that be so? She was a pure Vampire, wasn’t she?”

  Rafael shook his head. “No. Your mother was the daughter of Spanish immigrants. When she was bitten, I gave her my very old immortal blood, linking her to the first immortal woman. The Vampire who bit her, however, gave her something also. The Vampire venom of a very old Vampire. I could smell him in her blood. I knew their family. I had first encountered them in France during my time there.

  The Villart family was one of the first Vampire families to exist. They were very powerful then. It was unusual for them to attack villages like that, so I think the Vampire who struck your mother’s family was desperate. I feared the one who created her would track her by the blood bond he had to her. I took her far away from there, eventually coming to America and the Acadian mountains. That is where we first met the Werewolves.”

  Taking a moment to compose himself, and to allow me to absorb all he had said, he looked off toward the eclipse.

  “The first time we encountered the Wolves, they wanted to kill us. Fortunately, my skills as a Witch paved a way for us to be in their midst, and over time, they embraced your mother as if she were one of their own. After nearly a hundred years, your mother grew restless. She had heard rumors of others like herself. I begged her not to go, but she needed to live her own life, the life of a Vampire.

  Eventually, Dresden Villart did find her. It was he who had created her. He took her under his wing, so to speak, and he taught her the Ancient Vampire ways. She met Byron through the Villart’s. They were married not long after. I watched my daughter from afar, wishing to give her the space she desired, but wanting to remain a part of her life. She was all I had.”

  I swallowed down my bile at the thought of Byron Walker. “Was she happy with him?”

  Rafael nodded. “Yes, she was, for a time. They had Belladona not long after their union. The changes began when Byron decided to distance himself from the Villart’s. He said they were too soft, too friendly with humans. He began to hunt voraciously, killing humans instead of animals. Corentine didn’t agree with his views on humanity. She loved humans, as well as the other Casts. She wanted equality, he wanted absolute rule. I suppose that was what drove her into the arms of your father.”

  I had been staring at the dirt beneath my boot, but now, my head snapped up. Staring into Rafael’s eyes, I asked, “Excuse me?”

  Rafael held my gaze. He seemed to be waiting for me to piece things together. “I wasn’t sure at first. You look so much like Valkyrian, but tonight, when you unveiled your true self, I knew the truth.”

  I chewed my lip. I was suddenly unsure I wanted to know the rest of this story. “Byron is not my father?”

  “No. Your mother was seduced by another. She fled to his arms when your father and she fought. He was not what she thought he was either. A king of seduction and disguise. She cared for him, but she loved Byron. I cannot help but wonder what she would have thought if she had known his true nature.”

  I waited for him to say more. He didn’t. “How can Valkyrian be my twin if Byron is not my father? We were born together. How is that even possible?”

  Rafael let out a long breath. “I am not certain how it is possible, but without a doubt I can tell you that you and Valkyrian are twins. You grew together in the same womb, but you did not have the same father.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Say this is true, then who is this deceiver and seducer you say is my father.”

  Rafael lifted a brow at me. “You cannot guess?” When I stared blankly at him, he chuckled.

  “Your father is known by many names. Each culture has their own personification of him. French know him as Faucheuse. He is known in Spain as Angel de la Muerte. To Americans, he is known as Death. The Grim Reaper.”

  My mind froze. I glanced back at my shredded and dark wings. Slowly, I nodded. “Okay. I…um…that makes some sense.” My mind was reeling, and coherent thought wasn’t coming easily.

  Rafael placed a hand upon my shoulder. “The Reaper of Death takes many forms. Your mother knew him as a mysterious man. He called himself Orpheus then.”

  Staring at the white glow around the obscure moon, I took a long inhale. I didn’t know how I felt about this new information. Moving my gaze back to the old man in front of me, I studied him for an extended time.

  “So, you and I are related then? You gave my mother blood, so your blood flows through me as well?”

  He nodded. “Yes. You are, in essence, my granddaughter. Belladona and Valkyrian carry a link to me as well. I loved your mother dearly, and I promised to always watch over her children. My blood is one of the reasons you are strong enough to go through the cycle of rebirth. I am sorry. When I followed my heart and gave Desmond that spell, I had no idea he had ulterior motives.”

  I was about to speak when I heard Chandler behind me. “Valkyrie, the others are ready. We await your signal.”

  I turned and sent him a nod. Looking back at Rafael, I reached my hand out to squeeze his shoulder. “We will speak about this more once we have finished what we must do.”

  ͼ ͼ ͼ ͼ

  22

  Flight

  “We have Intel that Desmond was last seen heading South West with a large group of followers. We believe they will be striking Los Angeles next. The Lost City there is large, and their group teeters on the line between light and dark. Desmond probably believes he can sway them to follow him.” Chandler looked at me as he relayed the information.

  I studied him over the map spread across the table. Vampires, Witches, Gargoyles, Wolves, Panthers, and Ghosts all gathered around us. I felt claustrophobic. They closed in around me, pressing against my wings. It grated on my nerves. In an unintentional move, I fluttered my wings and they lit with flames. The eerie red-orange flames swallowed them up, flicking brightly. In an instant, the area around me cleared.

  Inwardly, I smiled. I preferred my space. Outwardly, I was stoic, completely cool and collected as though nothing had happened.

  “It makes sense that he would want to win over one of the largest Casts, but tell me, what do you think the chances are that they will choose to join him?” I studied those around me, waiting for an answer.

  Rafael shook his head slowly. I saw the lack of hope in his eyes. “The leader of the winged ones does not follow the dark path, but there are many of her brethren who do, and many more who I feel would easily choose to follow the evil side. You must remember, they may be the descendants of angels, but they are also the descendants of fallen ones. I think we need to beat Desmond there.”

  As he studied me, I saw a slight sparkle in his eyes. “Now that you have sprouted wings, I suppose that will not be an issue. Time for flying lessons?”

  I blinked rapidly. I didn’t know how to fly. Across the map, Chandler grinned at me. I groaned at the wicked excitement I saw on his face. I had a bad feeling about this.

  I was about to object when one of the Vampires spoke up. “This would be most opportune. Vampires, despite Hollywood hype, do not turn into bats. We cannot fly, and very few will step foot on an airplane. If you fly ahead with all those able to fly, you will have the upper hand. The rest of us can follow behind.”

  I saw the reason behind this plan, but I still wasn’t keen on the flying idea. I looked around, studying the faces of those gathered. I could not believe that so many supernatural beings were here, gathered together because of me. They believed I would be able to stop the coming prophecy. I was unsure. I knew there was a good chance their trust and hope were misplaced.

  ͼ ͼ ͼ ͼ

  Flying was nothing like anything I expected. Lessons had been unnecessary. As I took to the air, my body seemed to know what to do instinctively. As soon as I began to fall from the ledge where Chandler suggested I jump, my body had faded to the color of ash, and my wings became the deep obsidian black feathers I had seen first. Great large wings, they were amazing.

  I fought for a moment to get
the hang of controlling them with my mind, but soon I had the feel for it. Gliding through the sky made dark by the unnatural eclipse, I let loose a scream of excitement. With the air stinging against my skin and rushing through the feathers on my wings, I felt thrilled to be able to experience such a sensation. I can honestly say it was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

  Soaring through the darkened sky, I watched the landscape beneath me fade away. Over two hundred Gargoyles flanked me and Chandler. For the first time since I realized that I had gained a following, I actually felt like a leader. I felt like someone who was capable of leading others down the right path.

  Speeding toward our destination, I had much to think over. Rafael had warned me to tread carefully with this winged Cast. He had said that being the daughter of Azreal, the Grim Reaper, I was in a sense their kin. He hoped that would push them to listen to me, but we were both doubtful. Rafael spoke of a darker nature to these angelic descendants, and I knew there was a chance they would embrace Desmond and Byron’s dark plans.

  Thinking about Desmond brought an acidic taste to my mouth. I hated him like no one else. No, that was wrong. I hated him like I hated Byron for crucifying me four hundred years ago. I wondered how much of what had happened was a result of Desmond’s scheming. It was no wonder Aeron had hated him so much. At the thought of Aeron, my heart constricted in pain.

  I could not allow myself to go there right now. To open that wound and allow myself to think of the cold, aloof Vampire I had cared for would be asking for trouble. Instead, I looked down at myself, took a deep breath, and smiled. My skin was like soot, and my wings were like that of a giant raven. So deep black they seemed almost obscure. I told myself over and over I was stronger, I was wiser. I would not be caught unawares again.

  ͼ ͼ ͼ ͼ

  The city of Los Angeles came into view several hours later. The putrid city looked dilapidated and dirty. I glanced at Chandler, who nodded in confirmation that this was indeed the city we had sought. Rafael had told me about a Lost City which resided below the dirty streets of L.A. He had called it The Halls of Lucina. Rafael said he had never been there before, but he spoke of rumors he had heard of a city so breathtaking it seemed to have been molded from the shadows of heaven itself.

  I was not convinced such a place existed. Another thought that plagued my mind was why so many of their Cast would be dark if their city existed to resemble the holy city. Circling above the run-down streets below us, we kept our eyes peeled for others. So far, the streets were quiet. I felt a chill run down my spine. I felt that something was not as it seemed here. Glancing at Chandler, I spoke quietly as he moved closer.

  “You and I will go in, wings hidden. You can summon the others if we need them, but I would prefer to keep the element of surprise.” When he nodded his approval, he and I descended to a nearby park.

  Dropping into the thick covering of trees this park provided, we landed as silently as birds. The other Gargoyles disappeared to hide amongst the nearby hills. Standing, I concentrated my mind, trying to pull my wings back inside. I had a moment of panic when nothing seemed to happen. Beside me, Chandler had already assumed his human form and was pulling on clothes from the bag he had brought.

  I growled in frustration. Was I unable to retract my wings? Chandler watched me, offering a supportive smile.

  “Keep trying. Close your eyes, and let everything else disappear. You need ultimate concentration.”

  I did as instructed, but after several minutes, I let out a scream of anger, and my body ignited into delicious flames. Taking a moment to savor the feeling of them as they traced their path over me, I let out a long breath. Then, I tried once more. I heard the shifting and cracking of bones as my reaper-like wings slowly receded back into my skin. When the process was complete, I felt a tremble run down my body as my flames doused themselves.

  When I opened my eyes, it was to see Chandler watching me in a heated way. I felt uncomfortable. Fortunately, he recovered quickly.

  “Don’t worry, Valkyrie. It was difficult for me to shift at first, also. Over time, the more you do it, the quicker and easier it will become.” He tossed me a long black dress.

  Looking down at the thin material, I lifted a brow. He shrugged. Pulling a pair of heeled boots from the bag, he handed them over.

  “Sorry. It was all I could find at such short notice.”

  I grimaced as I pulled the dress over my head. Pulling the knee-high boots on, I looked down at myself. My breasts were all too noticeable through the thin silk dress, and the damn thing hardly reached my upper thighs. Shaking my head, I turned away. Wearing a dress brought back too many memories of Aeron.

  “Let’s go. I’m eager to get this over with. Tonight, we will either have a new ally, or we may very well face the destruction of earth.”

  ͼ ͼ ͼ ͼ

  Strutting through the unkempt streets, we surveyed the place for any sign of others. So far, we had come across a couple humans, most likely drug addicts, and a Ghost. The Ghost watched me with the most interesting expression. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but I figured being the daughter of death himself, I had better get used to it. Chandler scanned the alleyways ahead of me, constantly alert for dangers or others.

  It was early into the morning hours when we found what we were looking for. The man leaned against the brick wall of a raunchy nightclub. His head was lowered, and his black trench coat covered most of his features, but as we neared him, I sensed something about him that put me on alert. I cannot say whether it was his actual smell or some internal radar I had, but I knew, without a doubt that he was the descendant of an angel.

  As I hesitated in my walk, the mysterious man lifted his head and peered at me with startlingly bright blue eyes which seemed to glow from within. He stared at me as I stared at him. After several moments, he shoved himself off the wall and stepped toward me. His eyes reflected interest and confusion. The man was incredibly tall and broadly built. He looked like he could easily overpower Chandler, and I felt a tiny bit of my bravado flee on the breeze.

  I kept my chin high and my stance threatening as the man proceeded to circle me. He looked me over from head to toe, seeming to appraise me, and I wanted to kick him. He was devilishly handsome, and as he studied me, he grinned. The gesture only made him that much more appealing. I kept a neutral expression plastered on my face. When he finally finished his examination, he looked at my face and cocked his head to one side.

  “Wow. I do not think I have ever smelled a headier mixture of blood in my life. Part Vampire, part Witch, and….”

  He trailed off. Instantly I saw the fear that crossed his expression. He took a step back. Taking a deep breath, he held eye contact with me as he said, “I think I had better take you to Usela.”

  Relief flooded me. This was exactly what we had been hoping for. I will not deny I had actually been looking forward to a showdown with this exceptional example of a male, but I swallowed down the darkness surging within me. Chandler looked pissed. I knew he struggled not to attack the man for his open perusal of me. I patted him on the shoulder, trying to remind him to keep it under control.

  Following the broad back of the angelic being who led us, I sighed. There was something about him that reminded me of Aeron. Perhaps it was his size, or perhaps it was his overconfident attitude. Whatever it was, I had to swallow the lust it stirred within me. Putting Aeron out of my mind was not at all easy, but it was something I had to do. I had to move on and keep a clear mind.

  The stranger led us down streets and through alleys. He never once looked back to see if we followed, so confident was he in our reason for being here. The streets began to change the farther we walked. Dingy, trash-littered streets faded away and clean, well-lit streets replaced them. The buildings around us were no longer outdated apartments but now the captivating villas and townhomes of the wealthy.

  Ahead of us, I could hear the rhythmic lullaby of the sea as it caressed the sandy beaches in its endless struggle to
erode the earth. Seagulls screeched along the shores, and the musty, salty smell of sea and fish permeated my senses. I knew we neared a dock or pier. As we turned a corner in our path, I caught sight of the large fishing port with its boats and floating ramps. The stranger headed toward the docks, making me question our actual destination.

  Not far in the distance, I noticed a series of stairs which descended into darkness beside the docks. A metal door stood sentry over the passage-its chains and locks rusting from the salt air. Stopping before these doors, the stranger did turn around. He scanned the streets around us. Holding my gaze for another uncomfortable minute, he turned back to the door. A wave of his hand, and suddenly there existed a dimly lit opening.

  He stepped into the murky light within, and Chandler and I followed. For all we knew, he could be leading us to our execution, but we followed without hesitation. Once inside, I glanced back and saw again the iron doors that closed us in. I was overcome with the feeling of being trapped and it left me incredibly uncomfortable. Facing the murky tunnel ahead, I followed the back of the man who could mean life or death for us.

  We had little idea what awaited us in this foreboding tunnel, and my nerves were on edge. The path through the dim light seemed to go on forever until the tunnel curved, and ahead, light lit up the opening like a beacon. The bright white light was so pure, I was caught by surprise. It escaped my knowledge, how they were able to light up an area so brightly.

  Unfortunately, it was not into that brightness that the stranger led us. Several feet prior to the opening of the tunnel which led into the bliss of brightness, he stopped. Turning to the iron wall of the tunnel, he touched his hand to the wall, opening a hidden doorway. Chandler and I exchanged a worried look before passing through.

 

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