Darkness Unveiled

by Emerson Knight

  Finally, Sebastian turned his scowl to Dr. Baker. “You wanted her here, so you need to handle this.” He started to walk out of the clinic, then stopped, turning to sneer at Kelly as if he might pass judgment on her after all, then abruptly went out of the broken steel doors.

  Dr. Baker’s hand trembled as he ran it through his silver hair. “Please excuse us,” he said, glowering at Kelly. As she stared up into his disappointed face, I saw just an ember of remorse taking hold in her.

  I glared at her while Steven left the room, followed by Josh. Sky remained, watching with an intense, anxious expression. Finally I tore my gaze from Kelly and strode out.

  I found Josh and Steven in the next room. Steven had just started playing a console game, angrily slapping at the controls, while Josh paced, worrying the stubs of his fingernails as he gazed absently at the floor. I picked up the couch I had thrown earlier and returned it to its place. A moment later, an anxious Sky emerged from the hall, ignoring me as she was absorbed in her thoughts.

  Ten minutes later, Dr. Baker entered the room with a subdued Kelly behind him, closely clutching her tote bag as she followed him to the front door of the house. She hesitated in the doorway. If Dr. Baker had dismissed her, it was probably for the best. We would miss her skills, but she couldn’t flaunt pack rules without consequences. She was getting off easy. Eventually my anger would dissipate enough for me to appreciate Sebastian’s restraint.

  After a long, pensive glance back at us, she stepped across the threshold.

  “Kelly.” Sebastian’s booming voice called to her from his office door.

  She froze with her hand on the doorknob. I heard the frantic beating of her heart. After a long, tense moment, she slowly turned to meet Sebastian’s stern gaze. Despite her fear, she still had the firm resolution of someone convinced they’d made the moral choice and would resist all accusations to the contrary.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  I frowned at her insincerity, but her attention remained focused on Sebastian. He walked out of his office to stand in front of her, taking in everything about her as if she were a stranger he was meeting for the first time. His eyes fell to the bite mark on her neck, and I saw his jaw shift sideways.

  “No, you’re not, so you can keep your damn apology. If given the chance, you would do it again. That’s why we have a problem.”

  She lowered her gaze to the floor. “I couldn’t let her die.”

  “She’s still dead!” he shouted abruptly, causing her to flinch, but she held her ground. “Let’s just put aside your paramount betrayal of this pack,” he continued. “You fed a vampire—a powerful one—who, less than two weeks ago, was so enthralled by you he had to restrain himself. Or have you forgotten that so quickly? I realize in your idealistic, naïve world, you believe that he wouldn’t call you, strip you of your will, and force you to do whatever he desired. History has proven otherwise. He doesn’t possess that level of control. He is and always has been a servant to his lusts.”

  “I couldn’t let her die,” she repeated matter-of-factly. When she looked up to meet his gaze, her disappointment became an accusation. “You should have felt the same way. I expected better from you.”

  “Then it’s a good thing your happiness isn’t predicated on me living up to your expectations. We can stand here all day and discuss how I have insulted your moral sensibilities, but I have neither the time nor the desire to do so. Since you didn’t really think your little plan out, let me tell you what is going to happen now. For the next five days, you get Gavin as your guardian. By then Demetrius should have lost the ability to call you. Don’t even consider sending Gavin away during this time.”

  She opened her mouth to object, but quickly thought better of it as Sebastian stepped close to her. She tried to turn away but he gripped her shoulders, obliging her to hold his gaze. “If you ever do anything like that again, it will not be as easily forgiven or as kindly handled. Are we clear?”

  “What are you going to do,” she said coolly, “kill me?”

  Sebastian let go, allowing her to back away from him. “Are we clear?”

  She answered with a faint nod. He turned, strode into his office, and closed the door. I understood the control he must’ve exerted not to slam it. Indignant and growing increasingly angry, Kelly strode after him. She was about to knock on his door when Sky intervened.

  “I wouldn’t,” she warned, her expression an earnest appeal.

  Kelly’s lips pressed into a thin line as she pulled her bag close to her, then picked a couch and sat impatiently waiting for Gavin.

  CHAPTER 17

  Hours later, I waited at the white farmhouse while Josh used his magic to erase any evidence of the battle. We’d been fortunate in the number of losses suffered, but seeing the lifeless forms of several pack members in various states of gore was still difficult to endure. As many times as I’d seen death, it never got easier.

  Thankfully, Sky was not among the dead. Despite her inexperience, she’d held her ground and fought to the end, impressing even Gavin. But I wasn’t surprised. She’d shown her grit on several prior occasions: fighting off the genum that had attacked Winter; removing the silver bullet from my chest last year. Like Winter, Sky would always be underestimated by her opponents, and would make them pay for it.

  One by one, Josh erased the bodies of my fellow were-animals. We did not bury our dead. Even in cases of natural death, which were rare, a medical examiner would likely raise questions about our unique physiology. Were-animals often came to violent ends, with the kind of wounds that would draw a homicide investigation. In order for the pack to maintain its obscurity, we used magic to dispose of bodies. Nothing could be left to memorialize the were-animal’s bravery or sacrifice.

  The pack remembers.

  Josh removed the genums as well, followed by any trace of blood in the soil and grass—even the piles of dust that were the remains of fallen vamps. While he worked, I kept an eye on the road for any unwanted visitors, but my thoughts drifted to Chris, her brutalized body appearing fresh in my mind.

  For the sake of the relationship we’d once shared, dysfunctional as it had been, I’d tried to protect her. Demetrius had been right. She hadn’t belonged on that battlefield. He’d cast her aside, trying to keep her out of the fight, but I’d welcomed her. It was a decision I regretted, but that didn’t mean anything. She was dead. Her wounds were methodical, brutal, personal. She hadn’t been killed by a genum. As much as I blamed Demetrius for taking advantage of her in the first place, it hadn’t been his doing—not directly. He blamed me. Her death had nearly started a war between pack and Seethe, and there was only one person I knew who wanted such a war. Not a person. A vampire.

  Michaela.

  With one well-timed murder, she’d gotten rid of a rival and driven Demetrius into a vengeful fury, but she hadn’t counted on Kelly. I could never condone what our nurse had done, but I couldn’t deny that her actions had tempered Demetrius’s rage in perhaps the only way possible. Did he suspect his Mistress’s involvement? If so, Michaela appeared to have survived his wrath intact.

  Chris is dead. She’s a vampire, now—a bloodsucking, depraved murderer. My obligations to her were gone. Like all vamps, she was a potential threat to the pack, to be monitored and, if necessary, dealt with. If our paths crossed again, there would be no mercy.

  When Josh had finished, the field was clear of bodies and gore and blood. We spent the drive back to the retreat in somber silence.

  I grieved in my own way, alone. Over the next few days, I made appearances at the retreat to carry out my duties and support those who struggled with loss, but I left my pain at my door.

  A Scotch in hand, I sat on my sofa, glancing through one of the three magic books I had taken from the pack library. They were old and obscure. Judging by the dust on the covers when I’d first taken them, they hadn’t been referenced for some time, but they’d proven invaluable. The ritual that Josh had used to draw Ethos’s ener
gy from Sky—most of it—had come from the book in my hand. It had been an impressive feat of magic, but not the magic that was on my mind in that moment.

  Were-animals couldn’t use magic. That had been the accepted norm. Sky was an exception—she was more than just a were-animal, and she had Maya, the spirit shade, whose powers and influence over her remained a mystery. My ability to use magic came from another source. I’d spent my entire life hiding my abilities, even from my own brother. But in the fight against Ethos—to save Sky—I’d put them on display, breaking through his field not once but three times, when Josh hadn’t been able to do it once. The questions would come eventually. For the moment, he was respecting my grief, but it wasn’t Josh’s questions that concerned me.

  I had graciously given the vampires an unobstructed view of my abilities. Only time would tell how that knowledge would provide value to them. Marcia was a much bigger concern. The witches considered magic their private domain. She wouldn’t miss the chance to investigate—not that I had to cooperate, but there was my brother to consider. Though he was not a member of the Creed, they maintained a murky jurisdiction over him. Marcia had never approved of his alliance with the pack. She was looking for a reason to rebuke him. If she believed that Josh had knowingly hidden my abilities from the Creed, he could be punished. I was at risk as well; even if the origin of my abilities remained undiscovered, the mere fact that I was a were-animal who possessed magic, let alone powerful magic, was enough to invite intrigue—or worse. In the past, young were-animals who showed an aptitude for magic, however slight, had a tendency to die of unusual causes.

  Sooner or later, Marcia was going to stick her nose in my business. Most likely, I’d have to deal with her.

  I poured myself another Scotch.

  I had just opened my laptop to distract myself when I heard a single set of footsteps approach my door, followed by a crisp knock. I frowned. Approaching the door, I peered through the peephole to find a determined Sky on my porch, waiting impatiently. I sighed at the inevitable.

  When I opened the door, I noticed a book in her hand. Since this wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have on the porch, I stepped aside and let her in, closing the door behind her. She stopped in the living room, her green eyes entranced by the three books lying on my sofa next to my laptop.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  She turned to me with a mischievous smile. “Not going to offer me a glass of water or something?”

  Let’s just get to the point. “What. Do you. Want?”

  Her eyes narrowed as she raised her chin to me. “Why do you care that I am a Moura? And how does it affect the pack? You’ve called me naïve and foolish more than once, yet I am not foolish or naïve enough not to realize that what I am affects the pack. I suspect that what I am affects you as well. So, what are you?”

  “You know what I am.”

  “No, I know what you claim to be—a werewolf—just like me. I know that you seem to have a lot of information about me that should otherwise be unimportant. I know that when Gloria met you, she wanted to get as much distance as possible from you, and so did Thaddeus. Ethos was repelled by you and couldn’t get you away from him quick enough, but with Josh, he just wanted to play magical one-upmanship. Why?”

  “A lot of people are afraid of me.” I smiled. “I don’t think that’s cause for suspicion.”

  Her gaze softened as she monitored the rate of my respiration, listened to the beat of my heart. Frustration slowly settled on her face, cracking her confidence when she failed to detect any change whatsoever. She was learning, but I’d been at that game much longer than her.

  “You effortlessly breeze through wards and fields that even Josh has trouble with.”

  “So?”

  “I think there is more to you. A great deal more.”

  I smirked. “What, do you think I’m like you?”

  “Yes”—she nodded—“something like that.”

  I didn’t begrudge her her curiosity, but she didn’t have a right to answers. Knowledge was dangerous, and I didn’t need to put her at risk. I also knew I had little chance of steering Sky away without a significant distraction. Her eyes widened as I stepped closer to her, slowly leaning in until my lips nearly brushed her ear.

  “What’s the matter, Skylar?” I whispered. “Do you hate being alone—the only one of your kind in this big bad world? Do you need someone to hold your hand through it, coddle you, and tell you that you’re a special little snowflake and everything is going to be okay?”

  I watched the muscles in her neck tighten into cords before she backed a step away, scowling at me. “Yes, I hate knowing that when I stand in a room full of were-animals, I am still different. Sometimes it’s thrilling, but most of the time, it’s really scary to know what I can do with magic, and I can’t help but wonder if it will help me or destroy me. And it sucks that the more I find out about myself, the more I feel like my birth mother sentenced me to something far worse than death by letting me live. So yes, I hate being out here alone.”

  I studied her for a moment. She was feeling sorry for herself. In our world, confidence mattered. She was strong and brave, but self-pity was a weakness that could get her killed.

  “You and I are nothing alike. There is no one else like you,” I admitted. “You’re not about to be soothed, pampered, and told that everything’s going to be okay, because it’s not. Get over it. Grow a pair and deal with it. Let’s just hope that when everything hits the fan, you are still breathing afterward, or at the very least, your death is simple and not some torturous revenge.”

  “Well, I don’t think we’re that different at all,” she scoffed, but this time she refused the bait. “You can’t be a witch, or at least you will never admit it. Is it because you are afraid of them, what they will do to you, or to Josh, for not exposing you?”

  “One thing we don’t do is underestimate the witches. If I had shown signs of being a witch, I would not be standing here with you. So no, I am not a witch.”

  She grunted her dissatisfaction. “In all the time I have spent with Josh, he’s never mentioned the protected objects.”

  “Perhaps you two were so busy with other things that the subject just never came up.”

  Her jaw clenched as she scrutinized me. Her green eyes darkened. “I’m tied to the Aufero,” she announced. “What are you linked to?”

  I couldn’t help a small smile. In the past, she’d been much easier to distract. When I didn’t answer, she continued.

  “The Clostra? The Fatifer?”

  I glanced at the book in her hand as I crossed my arms over my chest. Somebody’s been a busy bee.

  “You said there were five Mouras Encantadas, which means there are five mystical objects in need of protection. I only found four, and since we destroyed the Gem of Levage, that makes only three. One is missing. What do you know about the elusive fifth object that even the books have no knowledge of?”

  And this bee is full of surprises. I steadied myself, careful to mask my surprise, but she noticed. I heard it in the excited leap of her heart. I shrugged, my smile casual. “I made a mistake. Perhaps there were only four.”

  Sensing weakness, she moved in for the kill. “You have a lot of information and know a hell of a lot about me. What are you hiding?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “I’m going to find out,” she promised, jabbing a finger toward my chest.

  Crap. “You do that,” I chuckled. There was only one way I knew to get rid of Sky, or distract her entirely. Either way was fine with me. I took off my shirt on my way to the back door. “I’m going for a run. Unless you plan on joining me, you can let yourself out.”

  Her eyes turned longingly to the books on my sofa. I returned to pick them up, along with my laptop, and locked them in the neighboring den. “Are you joining me or not?” I asked as I unbuttoned and then slipped off my pants. She stared back at me, defiant as I took off my underwear. Her lips pressed together in annoyanc
e as she tried not to express her frustration. After a moment, she averted her gaze, but then quickly turned back. Her eyes fixed like a lifeline on mine, but I saw the twitch in them as I slowly approached her. Finally, willfully, she allowed herself a full look. Her jaw remained set as she met my gaze once more.

  “In or out, Sky?” I asked.

  “I’ll just wait here until you get back,” she said with a sly smile.

  “That wasn’t an option.”

  “I’ll pass.”

  Suit yourself. I walked to the back door, then stopped. “Ethos could have killed you at any time,” I said over my shoulder. “Do you wonder why he didn’t?”

  She let out a long, slow breath before answering. “I’ll let myself out.”

  CHAPTER 18

  The next morning, I found Dr. Yoshi sitting pensively on his bed, his breakfast mostly untouched. As I entered his cell, he met my gaze with an anxious look.

  “Get your things,” I barked.

  After a moment’s hesitation, he obeyed, but with the reluctance of someone who thought they might not survive their journey. Despite Ethos’s apparent demise, the spell that prevented Dr. Yoshi from remembering his interactions with the silver-haired witch remained unbreakable. We had no means to verify whether he’d been forced to create the poison that had devastated us in the initial attack by the genums, but Stacy had confirmed Artemis’s story of him. On ethical grounds, he’d quit a lucrative position creating biological weapons for the military, settling instead for a steady but uncompromising career as a chemistry teacher. He signed online petitions for liberal causes and made small but consistent donations to animal rights groups, usually in his wife’s name. Nothing about Dr. Yoshi suggested the kind of greedy, amoral opportunist who would create such a deadly weapon for mere profit.