The Preternatural Chronicles: Books 0-3

by Hunter Blain

  I willed my blood back inside me and then sat down with a plop, exhausted.

  Locke rushed to where I sat and pushed past me to kneel by Depweg.

  “Jonathan. Can you hear me?” Locke asked Depweg.

  Even in my weakened state, a pang of jealousy shot through me. Jonathan? No one called him that. Wait, why did I care?

  Hey, I said inwardly to Baleius, you can let go now. It’s over. Baleius did as instructed without protest.

  I stood on shaky legs and made my way to where Joey was circling the ground where Lolth had vanished into the darkness. He chuffed once and trotted over to inspect Depweg. Apparently, Joey’s were-skull was stronger than Locke’s human one and hadn’t sustained as much damage.

  “Hey, it’s okay, buddy. He’s going to be fine.” I feigned confidence as I reached out to pet him. Once my fingers touched his fur, his jaws snapped at my hand. “Whoa there. I get it.” Joey seemed to see me then, as if for the first time, and lowered his head while his ears folded back. “All good, man,” I said while scratching him behind the ears. Then he began sniffing the air and hesitantly took one step toward the hallway where his brother’s blood still oozed. Joey howled at the ceiling in a long, soul-shattering cry for his twin. It broke my heart. I got down to my knees and wrapped my arms around his thick neck in an embrace. He responded by turning from the hallway and resting his head on my shoulder. I could feel him shake with grief as he whined in unimaginable sorrow.

  “I’m sorry, man,” I said as I pulled away to look him in his dark, glistening eyes. “But I promise you this: we are going to get that bitch and make her, and her entire race of Shadow fuckers, pay. Every. Last. One of them.”

  He continued to whine with each breath as he buried his head into my shoulder and neck. I could feel his warm tears on the skin of my throat. I did the only thing I could think to do; I let him sob while embracing him. Locke kneeled by our side, lowered his head, and rested a hand on Joey’s back.

  I carried Depweg upstairs and laid him out on the couch to rest and recover. His were-healing wasn’t as instantaneous as mine was, but it was infinitely better than a normal human’s.

  After searching around the house and shed outside, I found a folded up blue tarp and went back downstairs to recover Dawson. I had Locke wielding dual flashlights on my six the whole way before I noticed a switch near the entrance to the basement.

  Setting my jaw and scowling, I flipped the switch and bright lights filled the basement prison.

  “Lilith damn it,” I sighed as I shook my head.

  After Locke and I exited the basement, I kicked the trapdoor closed, which startled Depweg awake.

  “No, NO!” Depweg cried out as he began crab-walking backward on the couch, trying to escape what wasn’t there.

  I was still holding Dawson, so Locke rushed to his side and put a hand on his chest while repeating, “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

  Depweg’s eyes flicked around desperately until they landed on Locke. There was the briefest moment of confusion before recognition settled and Depweg wrapped his arms around Locke, whispering, “Oh, thank God.”

  “What happened?” Depweg asked as he pulled away. That’s when his eyes found me and went wide for an instant before shrinking back into a scowl.

  I had set Dawson down in the kitchen, still wrapped in the blue tarp. The droplets of blood striking the floor tugged at my attention.

  Locke explained to Depweg about finding Dawson and the ensuing battle.

  “Dawson,” Depweg mouthed as he cradled his head in his hands. Then he shot his face up to Locke and asked, “Where’s Joey?” Depweg alternated looking between me and Locke and back again.

  “He’s sitting outside. We felt it best to give him some space,” Locke answered.

  Depweg stood and walked to the back door. He turned his head to regard me without a word before stepping outside to console his packmate.

  “It’s not your fault,” Locke said quietly as he read the situation. I didn’t respond. A lot of things had happened with Depweg and I over the decades, and never once had he looked at me like that. Not once.

  We buried what we could find of Dawson deeper into the woods surrounding the house. No one said anything. Joey stood stoically over the unmarked grave, the tears streaming down his face clearing lines in his dirt-covered face. I had suggested he get cleaned up while I buried Dawson, but he had ignored me, opting to carry his brother’s decimated body personally.

  I patted Joey’s shoulder and began walking back to the house, Locke and Depweg close behind. Depweg was still weak from blood loss, but was not going to miss his packmate’s funeral. Locke helped keep him steady as they traversed the trail.

  When we were out of earshot of Joey, I asked, “What did Lolth want with Dawson anyway?”

  “He didn’t want him. His was simply the first cell he popped up in. He wanted me,” Depweg said tiredly.

  “Did she say anything?”

  “No. He just grew from the floor like he was coming out of a freaking swimming pool. I tried to defend myself, but I couldn’t even touch him.”

  “Her,” I corrected.

  “Right. Her.” Depweg stopped walking, drawing my attention, and I turned to face him. “Where the hell have you been, John? Nine years. Nine fucking years.”

  My stomach dropped as I realized he didn’t know it had been a year since he had been taken. He didn’t have a beard like Joey, but his skin was hanging loosely from muscle loss, though it wasn’t as much as I thought it would be. Ludvig must have fed them decently and provided basic toiletries.

  Locke cleared his throat. When Depweg looked between him and me, Locke started to speak. “Jonathan, it’s been…”

  “You’ve been here a year, brother,” I finished for Locke. With Depweg, I knew it was best to rip the Band-Aid off.

  “I-I knew it had been a few months. But…a whole year?” Depweg asked, staring off into the distance. Pale moonlight reflected in pupils that had started to glisten. Then his eyes became focused again, and he looked at me with barely contained aggression behind his gaze. “Where in God’s name have you been?”

  “I was in Faerie, but it only felt like a few hours to me. King Oberon came and completely took over the entire plane, and I barely escaped with Taylor. When I got back, ten years had passed.”

  “We think Lily had something to do with it,” Locke added. Depweg shot his eyes to him, then back at me. Understanding cleared his scrunched expression.

  “Lily,” he breathed.

  “I have no idea why.”

  “What about the prophecy?” Depweg asked quickly.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “For ten years—ten years,” he spit out the words the second time, “Ulric was the last vampire to walk the Earth. Why didn’t the apocalypse happen?”

  “Oh shit!” I exclaimed, so caught up in the time dilation that I hadn’t even considered the prophecy to the end of the fucking universe. “I don’t know, man.” I thought for a moment before I said, “Maybe we aren’t the last two? Or maybe it has something to do with the two planes being parallel to one another and it not counting as me being gone?”

  “When it comes to time, all options are on the table,” Locke said thoughtfully. “I could easily believe either one of those theories.”

  “Let’s focus on this later. We gotta rescue Ludvig and Magni.”

  “Rescue?! Did you say rescue?!” Depweg spit out.

  “Jonathan,” Locke started calmly, “Magni is the boy.” Depweg stared at Locke, not catching on. Then Locke nodded subtly in my direction without taking his eyes off Depweg. “The boy…from the cemetery.”

  Recognition flashed across his face as Depweg turned his head to regard me. “He became a hunter? Humph, fitting,” Depweg said sourly, looking at the ground as his mind worked.

  “It also turns out that Ludvig is more on our side than what anyone could have guessed,” I said carefully to Depweg. A year was a long time to have
your fuse shortened. “He says you were the first supe he had let live this long because he wasn’t sure if what you had told him was the truth. Think about it; a supernatural hunter that didn’t kill a pack of werewolves. Instead, he-he talked to you, wanting to believe but unsure. It is unprecedented.”

  “Un-precedented,” Depweg said slowly, tasting the words before letting them fall out of his mouth like the spit before a fierce vomit session.

  “He’s right,” Locke said as the voice of reason.

  Depweg regarded Locke for a long moment, his brow furrowing while lips curled into a snarl for a nanosecond before his features relaxed, giving way to reason. Closing his eyes, he nodded once before he resumed walking. Depweg didn’t look at me, and I felt his blame permeating my skin like the flame from an out-of-control bonfire.

  I followed loosely behind, giving Depweg a chance to process what must be done. I didn’t think I needed to remind him that the entire known universe was at stake. I noticed that in his anger, he was walking more upright and with less assistance from the much smaller Locke.

  Once we were inside the cabin, Depweg raided the kitchen and began consuming whatever meats he could, raw. I could hear his heavy breathing as he tore entire mouthfuls of animal flesh from huge slabs.

  Joey walked in a few minutes after and went straight to the master bedroom without saying a word. The shower was turned on before being muffled by the bathroom door closing softly. Even an act as simple as trying to shut a door and then having to press on it a moment later because the force hadn’t been enough to engage the lock showed how hurt Joey was. He barely had the strength to hold himself upright. I had been there, and knew that the darkness of every blink showed the gruesome still image of his brother torn in half. I wished I could take his pain unto myself, but even if I could, I had enough corpses in my closet to contend with. This would be a defining moment for the rest of Joey’s life; he would either rise from the ashes of his former life and grow stronger, or let his sorrow eat away at him like an insatiable cancer. I silently prayed for the former.

  Locke sat down on the couch next to me and spoke in a soft whisper, “What are we going to do about…” he trailed off, nodding his head toward the master bedroom.

  “Be there for him,” I said staring forward, remembering all those I had lost.

  Depweg came into the living room then, his eyes still cold toward me. It wasn’t fair. I hadn’t known I’d lose so much time by trying to save my own ass.

  “There’s another reason we are going to Faerie,” I said to Depweg, my voice filling to the brim with ice. I could understand his situation, but I wasn’t going to be blamed for his actions that had led him to Ludvig.

  Depweg continued to stare, awaiting my reason as he crossed his still massive arms across the acreage of his chest.

  “Da is there,” I informed the distant Depweg with a voice that portrayed the accumulated love I had for my faerie friend. Hidden in my words was also a tone that screamed that I didn’t give two shits if he blamed me right now. He was going to get over it to save Da, and he was going to do so quickly.

  Without uncrossing his arms, he looked first at Locke and then at the ground, nodding in understanding.

  “I had a feeling you’d say that.” He looked up at me then and said, “That was a long time ago, man. If what you say about Faerie is accurate, he’s dead.”

  “Don’t say that,” I said, fiercely shaking my head. “Don’t you fucking say that.” I began to breath heavily as I clenched and unclenched my fists.

  “You need to understand before we go in there that it is a distinct possibility. Otherwise, he would have shifted home, right?”

  “Even if there is only a remote possibility that he is alive, it’s worth the risk,” I breathed through my teeth, trying to control my building rage.

  “The entire world is worth the risk? All the innocent souls in Heaven? Hmm? Are they an acceptable loss for one person?” Depweg shot at me.

  I didn’t answer his rhetorical question. Instead, I stared daggers at him. I could feel my eyes on the verge of shifting while my gums tensed at my canines.

  Stop it! I yelled at Baleius, only to realize that I was holding the wheel, alone. I turned to see him gazing through the windows of my eyes, paying me no attention. His hands were clasped behind his back in contemplation of the scene unfolding.

  Without embarrassing myself further, I returned to the world outside. I tried to take control of my churning emotions and forced myself to relax. Depweg had just been through a year imprisoned in a jail cell, and one of his packmates had been murdered.

  It was as if my anger was an oil fire on a gas stove. I wanted to just throw water on it and be done with the whole ordeal, but knew that it would only grow in fury and intensity. I had to remain calm, face the problem head-on or risk irreparable damage. I started by turning the knob of the stove off. Then, calmly, placed the lid on the fire to extinguish its oxygen supply.

  I filled my lungs slowly, deliberately, as I regained control over myself.

  “I’m sorry, man. Everything that has happened is my fault. I trusted Lily against my gut feeling and brought this house of cards down.”

  “Not sure I fully grasp the metaphor, but I appreciate your words. That being said, we both know Lily. The question prominent in my mind is: are you going to let her talk her way out of what she did?”

  “Hell no!” I cried out, not believing the vehemence of my own words. Depweg cocked an eyebrow at me. “I-I don’t know, man. I…”

  “Love her,” Depweg finished for me. His words struck hard, though I already knew it to be a fact.

  “Yes,” I conceded. “And I think she feels the same about me.”

  Locke interjected then, “Of course you do. She’s a Fae. Manipulating emotions is their bread and butter.”

  “Guys, I really don’t like being teamed up on, okay?” I said defensively, throwing my hands up, palms out. The stove was gradually being turned back on without my consent.

  “You need to hear it,” Depweg continued strongly. “She is going to give you some bullshit excuse about looking out for your well-being—”

  “Or flat-out deny it,” Locke added.

  “—and you can’t fall for it,” Depweg finished.

  “What if—”

  “It wasn’t her?” Depweg completed my thought aggressively. I got the sense that he was growing tired of the conversation. Well, that made two of us.

  Letting my emotions slip, I fumed, “It’s a damned good question to ask, dude! I was in Faerie while King Asshole swallowed the Lilith-damned sun! All while turning the fucking giant tree castle into a lifeless stone city! So maybe it was hi—”

  “Yggdrasil?! Yggdrasil was destroyed?” Locke interrupted on the verge of hyperventilating. “Why didn’t you say that sooner! Oh shit. Oh SHIT. This isn’t good.”

  “Yggdrasil? Isn’t that the world tree from Viking lore or something?” I asked, rage subsiding. I was beginning to feel like I was on a roller coaster of emotion.

  “Norse, and yes. The world tree is real, connecting several planes of existence together. It has been described in several mythos; but I assure you, it is real.” Locke thought for a moment before adding, “Wait, what did Lolth mean by the celestial key?” He stood and began quickly pacing back and forth in the living room as he thought out loud. “King Oberon has a celestial armor complete with gladius. With that, he can cut through the very fabric of reality and even time. We need to get there and stop him.”

  “Stop him from what?” I asked, fearful of the answer.

  “I don’t have the knowledge on the subject to complete the picture. But what I can say confidently is that whatever he is doing, it can’t be good.”

  “Taylor told me that the Shadow Court wants to cast the universe into darkness. We thought I was the key to making that happen.”

  “Oberon promised to let you live if you gave him the gauntlet,” Locke said.

  “He doesn’t need me to att
ain his goal. He has his key now,” I said. “Besides, you remember what he said at the end.”

  “Not entirely. I was trying not to die at the moment.”

  “What did he say?” Depweg asked. I filled him in about how Oberon had subtly mentioned that I was going to die no matter what by him killing all humans on Earth somehow.

  “So, what, is he going to cut the world tree down or something?” Depweg asked. “What would that do?”

  “I don’t exactly know,” Locke said while deep in thought, “but if the tree connecting all reality together is destroyed…”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, throwing my hands up. “I’m having some trouble believing some Norse fairy tale about a damn tree holding the nine realms together.”

  “Said the vampire to the werewolf and warlock,” Depweg countered.

  “I…” I started, holding up my index finger as if to make a point. Letting it drop, I relented, “Point, match, Depweg.”

  “Let’s use the same logic from the stories we have heard as compared to us,” Locke thought aloud while grabbing his chin between thumb and forefinger.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

  “We know the stories about things like vampires and werewolves that are told by mortals are drastically overfantasized and altogether wrong. I mean, John, you are wearing a silver crucifix.” The three of us looked at my silver pendant sitting brightly atop my black shirt.

  “Lilith damn it!” I said as a finger found a hole in my brand-new shirt. “I just got this stupid thing.”

  “On the clearance rack,” Locke added curtly before finishing, “But you see my point. Now, we need to take what we know and weed through the lore.”

  “Maybe I’m just a big, dumb idiot with a ripped physique, but what does this matter?”

  “I see where he’s going,” Depweg said, leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen. “Maybe the tree itself doesn’t actually hold several planes of existence together, but does, perhaps, act as a doorway.”

  “That theory holds water,” Locke said. “It could be the power source that allows for portals, or maybe it acts as some sort of beacon for the Fae whenever they shift planes.”