The Covenant of Shadows Collection

by Kade Cook

  And maybe it was fate.

  38

  WHISPERS WITHIN THE DARKNESS

  The Covenant votes that Gabrian’s Isa gift is no longer high priority. Having unconsciously drained the life essence of her own best friend has caused quite a stir and now, with all these new wisps of gifts appearing, they are unsure of what to do with her.

  It is agreed that her Vampiric act was not intentional, therefore it is not considered a malicious attempt, but she is no longer allowed the freedom that was once hers. With Ethan absent, they are unable to determine the array of powers she may possess but it will be evaluated once Rachael’s situation is stabilized. Though usually quick to condemn such acts, Cimmerian remains reasonably quiet, only partaking in the conversations when directly addressed. Trying hard not to take center stage on the witch hunt, and staying in the shadow of Caspyous’s tirade during the show, Cimmerian hopes it is enough.

  Now alone within the walls of his chambers, Cimmerian paces frantically—pondering his choices. This youngling is going to be watched, every eye—especially the unobserved eyes—will be tracking her every move. Does he want to be part of this? And since her newest gift is that of Darkness—one that she seems able to summon quite forcefully—and considering that it took him ages to be able to do what she did on her first encounter with the Gargons, a twinge of jealousy seeps into his thoughts only for a moment. It is quickly replaced with a brief exhale of pity for the girl having to deal with learning so many new gifts all at once.

  His decision bounces from duty to digression—which held the most meaning for him was still being determined. “I would think the decisions would be quite crystal clear to you,” a familiar, yet annoying voice whispers to him from across the dimly lit room.

  Cimmerian looks up from his feet, gritting his teeth. “And why is that now?”

  Adrinn’s phantom-like form clarifies within the hazy lighting. “Well, considering that she now has touched upon the delicate boundaries of your magical abilities. To tell you the truth, I find that I am quite delighted with these new developments…they certainly outweigh any expectations I once conceived for the girl.”

  “Ahem,” Cimmerian clears his throat in his immediate annoyance with Adrinn’s tangent.

  Adrinn’s essence slithers across the wooden floorboards, inching his way closer to his host. “Yes, of course. Forgive me, old boy,” he says as he pulls at his vaporous lapel and moves past Cimmerian in his rant. “This way you will have ample opportunity to get closer to the girl.”

  “I don’t want to get closer to her.” Cimmerian twists on his heels and bellows out his retort. “I want to get as far away from her, and you, as I possibly can.”

  “Oh, really now? Have you changed your mind about helping your dear, deserted daughter— the one who drifts helplessly throughout Erebus?” Adrinn taunts, knowing this will bring Cimmerian’s attention back around to the real focus of their unwanted encounters. “Now what kind of father would that make you?”

  Cimmerian’s eyes burn with hate for this creature. His vision blurs with dew of his heightened state of mind from hearing these venomous words. “There is already much suspicion in the Realm on how you got out and now all of this fiasco with the girl…all eyes are heavy in my direction.” He rubs his cold slender hand through his hair, gathering them together at the nape of his neck as he clings to his sanity and struggles to maintain his moral convictions. His eyes soften their glare just a bit and his lips quiver as he pleads his question. “What would you have me do?”

  Grabbing the edge of his chin and raising his intensifying gaze, Adrinn answers. “What you must. If you wish to see Symone again, that is. Tit for Tat, my good man—it is just the way of the world.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.”

  “Oh, but it does.” Adrinn shifts his position and begins to circle Cimmerian’s statuesque stance, his face impish and decided. “What better way to redeem and prove your allegiance within the eyes of the Elders for your slight-over-sight of the breach in the dimensions, than to offer to mentor the youngling in her time of need—in her time of discovery,” he breathes out confidently, a grin growing across his face.

  “I know what you are thinking.” Cimmerian scowls and finds his dismay dissipating with his new contemplation of what this monster is envisioning. “You are not the only one thinking it.”

  Adrinn ceases his circling and stops just behind his friend, his grin spreading as he stares out across the room. “I am not thinking anything. I am hoping.” Adrinn turns his head to glance back over his shoulder to see Cimmerian now facing his back and wearing a frown.

  “Yes, well, since you have come back, I have learned one thing.”

  “And what would that be?” Adrinn’s grin turns into a devious smirk pinching the corners of his hazel eyes.

  “That hope is a dangerous thing.”

  39

  A SLIGHT CHANCE

  Under watch, Gabrian is given permission to go see Rachael at the medical facility. Confused as to why she has not been healed yet and back at her apartment causes alarms to go off within her. With Shane at her side, he explains that while Ethan and Kaleb have been caring for her nonstop since she arrived, Rachael’s critical state of being is on the brink of death. Normally, once one gets to this state, the Gargons have already injected their toxins within them, preparing them for the inevitable ingesting of their soul. But since Gabrian managed to fight them off and send them back, they were unable to finish their job and left Rachael in a state of suspense between worlds—floating helplessly until she can find the path to where she is supposed to be. Whether her place is with the Gargons or to find her way back to the Realm, for now she remains in limbo.

  All they can do is wait.

  Hearing the heart-wrenching truth of what she has done leaves Gabrian devastated. All she wants to do is see Rachael. Since she is the one who did this to her, maybe she can find a way to reach her and pull her back.

  Within the corridors of the hospital, Gabrian and Shane march to Rachael’s door. Feeling the heavy eyes of the watchers on her, the weight in her steps increases and makes her feet drag, unprepared for what awaits her at the end destination. Room 231 in bold print gives her heart a jolt when she reads it. Her ice blue eyes search for Shane’s green ocean of kindness.

  He takes her hand, giving it a gentle touch, and nods his head. “It will be all right, Rachael is strong. She will find her way back.”

  Hearing his words rattle through her brain, Gabrian hopes they will dissuade her uncertainties, but it offers only a little help in her believing them.

  Movement to her right catches her attention as she reaches to push on the door. In the corner of the hallway stands large bodies—watchers, auras flaring in changing degrees of blue. Their faces are grim and cold, straight lines forming their mouths. She can hear the hatred rage within their minds for her, knowing exactly who she is.

  “We’ll be watching you,” one of the statues hisses out, warning her…threatening her.

  The words, simple as they are, irritate her to her core and she lashes out. “What do you think I am here to do, finish her off?” she growls, her words slipping between tense jaws. “She is my best friend.”

  The two watchmens’ tongues remain silent, but their minds taunt her with their unkind words. Some best friend, huh. Nothing good can come from harbouring a Vampire for a friend. While the other peers at her and growls inwardly his disdain. Abomination.

  The last word pierces through her fragile armor, and she looks away, shrouding the dampness now clouding her sight, twisting on the handle to escape their stares. She slips in behind the door and rests her weight upon it, hiding from them.

  “Gabrian,” a tender voice jars her from her hiding spot. From beside the bed rises a familiar form—a large familiar form. Orroryn welcomes her with a soft gaze and a kind smile, lifting his hand to beckon her to join him. “I wasn’t expecting you until later.”

  “Oh, Orroryn. I didn’t see you in
here,” she says, turning to attempt an exit. “I will come back when you are done.”

  “No, don’t go. I was just leaving,” he ensures and moves toward her in an effortless step, guiding her to stand by her friend’s side. “After the trial, I mean the…”

  “It is fine, Orroryn—we both know what it was.”

  “Yes, I suppose we do.” His head dips a bit, feeling sympathy for her, knowing how much she must be hurting. “Anyway, I just felt the need to check on her. To see if there was any change…to report to the Covenant’s Elders.”

  Gabrian’s head tilts, catching the strange slip in his reasoning for being here. Maybe his attendance is weighted heavier than his explanation—maybe Rachael was onto something with her confession. But her mind stops its inquiry recalling all the events that followed—the events that led them all here. The sadness pounds violently in her chest and her face dips in the sudden unleashing of painful memories.

  Seeing her internal struggle surface, Orroryn reaches for the door. “I will let you have some time with her.”

  Gabrian just nods, holding back the tears that burn to get out.

  “I am guessing Shane is just outside?”

  She nods again, this time managing to answer. “Yes…” she coughs out. “Just outside in the hall.”

  With that, Orroryn manages to slip his mountainous form seamlessly through the small opening between the door and its frame, disappearing into the hall, and leaves her alone with the mess she created. Gabrian forces herself to turn, to face the destruction of her friend, and look upon the nightmare she has made of everything. She sighs and wills her feet to move forward. Her hands reach out to grasp the cold metal of the safety bars placed around Rachael’s lifeless body.

  Not able to move any closer, the sight of her best friend just lying there causes Gabrian’s perfectly-abled body to tremor. The guilt of knowing she is in there somewhere, lost in some kind of chaotic hell Gabrian is all too well familiar with, is more than she can take. Her mouth waters; the sour taste of sickness makes its tainted appearance as her stomach turns in disgust. How could she have let this happen, how could she have been this selfish? It should be her lying here, not Rachael, and she would give anything to change it.

  Gabrian unclenches her fist from the iron rail and reaches for Rachael’s small hand. Feeling the cool soft flesh against her own triggers a tear to fall from her eyes and trail its way down her cheek. Brushing it quickly away, Gabrian pinches at the cusp of her own grey aura searching for a thread, for a slight chance of hope, and willing it to be there. Again and again, she tries becoming frantic in her efforts to find it, even a trace that she can use, but it is not there. Gabrian’s mind scolds her efforts, making her question her own existence. What good is a Borrower if they cannot heal, or lend their essence?

  “No good at all,” she sobs.

  Not being able to do anything or see her friend like this any longer, she growls out loud in her frustration, louder than she had anticipated, and the door flies open. The two thugs who had delivered a warning to her earlier make good on their promise as they push their way into the room, hearing the sudden unexpected noise.

  Alarmed by the intrusion, and lost in her own measure of incompetency, Gabrian barrels forward between the two of them but they catch her and demand an explanation to the noise. “What is going on here?”

  Feeling their iron grip on her arms and their hatred burning in their touch, itching to destroy her, she rips herself away and yells out. “Nothing…I didn’t touch her, I didn’t hurt her. I never meant to hurt her.” The words come spilling out of her mouth, filled with the pain that tortures her from the inside out. Tears fills her eyes and she pushes her way past the blurry figures standing in her way, searching for a way out—dying to find a way back to her old life, the way it was before she knew about the Realm.

  40

  A LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS

  Not wanting to see or deal with anyone, Gabrian asks Shane to slip her back home within the Veil. Having the confusing images of what she has done constantly spinning in her mind wreaks havoc on her insides. The inability to do anything to help is driving her to madness—not to mention knowing that her every move is being monitored as a liability to the Realm. She is walking on thin ice with a few of the Fellowships that have little sympathy for her kind.

  Shane prepares her a coffee hoping that it will help, which usually it does, but she refuses it. She is too busy pacing, trying to figure out her next move, a plan to find a way to fix this horrific whirlwind that she has manifested to be her life.

  “There has to be something,” she mumbles to herself out loud, not really registering that she isn’t alone. “Something—anything that can help Rachael find her way back,” she continues, wringing her hands through her hair and lodging them deeply behind her head.

  “It’s too bad that she doesn’t have a stone like yours,” Shane hums out, adding to her monologue, not sure if she will hear him or not.

  Gabrian’s trek comes to a direct halt and her head spins, her eyes latching upon her guardian’s. “What did you just say?”

  Caught off guard by her quick reply, Shane’s words jumble in his mouth for a second. “I said,” repeating himself more softly, “that it is too bad that she doesn’t have a stone like the one I gave you.”

  Making her way across the living room to stand just below the kitchen counter, she stares up at him wide-eyed. “Why?”

  Shane has found her attention and he takes this opportunity to pass her the prepared coffee. She takes it unconsciously as he begins to speak, looking for some understanding. “Because the stone I gave you, if you remember, has great power.” He edges himself around the end of the counter and settles his large frame to rest upon the top step of the landing, his eyes now level with hers. “This particular stone has the ability to stabilize and connect with your subconscious—amplifying your mental commands. It allows you to have more control of your thoughts and how you project them toward others.”

  Gabrian stands before him silently, her mind reeling in thought.

  “If this kind of thing were to happen to you, the stone would act as a beacon for you. A light in the darkness for your subconscious to cling to, to guide you safely back to your physical vessel.”

  Gabrian’s eyes are alight, her grey aura now tinted with white and violet hues swirling erratically around her form causing Shane to sit up and take notice of the strange phenomenon taking place before him. He has never really seen this kind of colour shifting up close before and is a little uncertain how to feel about it.

  “Where did you get this stone?” she asks, wringing her fingers lightly over the surface of the smooth stone embedded against her skin.

  “From a friend.” Shane announces, a little hesitant to give away his source, always protective of his secret—her safety.

  “I have to get another stone like mine. You have to get me one,” Gabrian insists, her eyes intense and wild. “I need one.”

  “Gabrian, I can’t…”

  “What do you mean you can’t?” Gabrian gasps, already confused by his refusal.

  Shane’s face softens, knowing why she wants it. “I can’t just get you a stone. It doesn’t work that way,” he tells her, releasing a loud sigh, hoping that she will hear him.

  “Well, tell me how it works, and I will get her one myself,” Gabrian insists, taking a sip of her coffee as her eyes wander around the room, pondering possibilities.

  “Maddor…I mean, my friend doesn’t just give these things away,” he starts. “The stones are received as a gift, a Schaeduwe request for their chosen one.” He lifts his free hand and reaches inside of his worn grey T-shirt and retrieves his stone, carefully entwined in its binding hanging loosely around his neck, close to his heart. “It is their promise—a stone divided into two equal parts. A gift only given out to those she deems worthy of them.”

  Gabrian’s eyes jump from their search and catch his with a jolt. “She…” she says to him, her
gaze unmoving. “Who is she?” She waits only for a second for his reply but then continues. “Doesn’t matter, where is she? I will ask her myself,” she insists, turning her back to him to start her pacing again. “Maybe she will make an exception when I explain the circumstances to her.”

  “Gabrian, I don’t think…” Shane starts to explain to her, but she is not really listening to him.

  She stops her steps and quickly turns to face him again, tears staining her cheeks from her eight-foot repetitive journey. “It doesn’t matter, it is worth a try…” she whispers as loud as she can, her words beginning to fail her. “It is a sliver of hope. That is all I have right now.”

  Feeling her pain slice through his chest at the sight of her desperation, and hearing the desolation in her voice, there is only one thing he can do.

  He must make a visit to the island, to the old white shed that sits snug against the trees along his driveway. Maybe Gabrian can convince the old woman to break with tradition, who knows. The bigger question is, will his undying devotion to Gabrian’s heart and her happiness put the old woman’s life at risk, revealing his secret—his promise to keep her hidden from the world, even from his mate?

  41

  NOT WHAT WAS EXPECTED

  Not wanting to waste any time getting to her final destination, Gabrian asks Shane to skip the boat ride and to jump right into the Veil. Her heart pounds loudly within her chest when they arrive just outside the door of the tattered old white shed.