Darkness Unleashed

by McKenzie Hunter

  Ethan stayed at the door; the silence swelled and became uncomfortable. That was David and Trent’s cue to exit—or they took it as one. They seemed more than happy to leave and remain unaware of the drama that was about to unfold.

  Ethan took a seat next to me, glanced up at the TV, furrowed his brow at me mockingly, grabbed the remote, and turned the TV off. He clasped my hand in his, brought it to his lips, and kissed it.

  “I’m not going to do it,” I whispered.

  He nodded slowly. “Okay. I didn’t come here to talk you into it.”

  “Then why are you here?” I asked, unable to keep the irritation out of my voice. Displacing my irritation with the situation on Ethan. A problem I didn’t know how to fix, that seemed so cold and unreal. Who asks someone to kill them?

  With a faint smile, Ethan brushed the hair away from my face and sighed. “Quell is the type of person who asks something like that.”

  I didn’t ponder how Ethan knew what I was thinking, I’m sure it was expressed on my face. Closing my eyes for a second, I took a deep breath and slowly released it. “It’s not fair that he did.”

  “You’re right. It was a horrible thing to ask you. But it’s his last wish, and it’s selfish to deny him that.” He dropped his eyes to the floor, and I didn’t know if it was the look on my face that was too hard to bear or if he was about to say something and didn’t want to look at me after he’d said it. “Sky, it’s okay to be selfish. I won’t ever judge you for that. But I want to know why you’re being selfish. Why do you need Quell in your life?”

  “I don’t need him in my life. I just don’t want to have his death on my hands.”

  “Even if it’s what he wants?”

  “I don’t give a damn what he wants because what he wants is absolutely absurd.” There was a long, uncomfortable silence between us. I searched for the right words but came up empty. Ethan’s thumb ran along the side of mine as he kept a firm grasp on my hand.

  He assessed me in silence, gunmetal eyes fixed on me. He leaned forward, gently trailing his fingers along my cheek. His tone was the polar opposite of his sharp gaze.

  “I’ve asked you whether you loved Quell, so I won’t ask you again. But I need to know what this hold is that he has on you.”

  “It’s not a hold.” I dropped my eyes to my hands, unable to bear his gaze. “I feel—”

  “Look at me, Sky.”

  I lifted my eyes to meet his and continued, “I feel like …” But the words faded. I didn’t have an answer that would make sense to anyone because it didn’t make sense to me.

  Ethan’s tone was still level, soft, emotionless. “You feel as though you know more than him.” His gentle, condoling touches were replaced by feather-light kisses. “He’s close to eighty years old. You don’t know more than he does. Have you ever been to a movie that was terrible? Some people stay, hoping it will get better, and others walk out immediately. Some stay close to the end, and when they realize nothing good will happen, they finally leave, but they’ve already stayed way too long.”

  “Life isn’t a movie, Ethan.”

  “In many ways it is. At least with a movie, you can leave and just live your life. You can even catch another show. But this is his only show. He’s lost his creator, the person he once liked enough to form a special bond with. She’s gone, and he doesn’t have a Seethe that wants him. You can’t be the only reason for him to stay alive. You can’t make that decision. He has the right.”

  “I have the right to say I don’t want to be the one who does it,” I snapped back. Ethan didn’t take offense.

  “Fine. But you are wrong.” He ended the conversation. He’d said his piece, voiced his opinion, and it was out there for me to act on.

  As far as I was concerned, he was wrong, too, and defiance caused me to just stare at the hand he extended to me once he’d stood.

  “Sky?”

  After several moments, I took it. “I won’t change my mind.”

  “Okay,” he acknowledged in a flat, mild tone. I felt like a petulant child, and I was pretty much behaving like one. Once again, I found myself out of my depth, floundering in a world I thought I’d learned to navigate.

  As I walked next to Ethan, I tried to find comfort in the things he’d said. It’s okay to be selfish. Own it. I repeated it several times in my head, but by the time I got to the house, I hadn’t convinced myself of it. I wasn’t selfish—not intentionally. But I knew for sure I wasn’t Quell’s guardian. I was his friend.

  Instead of following Ethan to the front door, I moved around to the back and slowly approached the wooded area behind my house. I knew Quell would be there. I picked up the stake, which was in the same spot where I’d stabbed it and continued toward him.

  I clenched it tighter, aware that my pace had slowed and I was barely moving. The same anger flooded back, and it was hard to master. I stopped just a few feet from Quell, who stood still, with the same vacuous look I’d become familiar with and oddly found comfort in. It was anything but comforting now. It didn’t offer any succor. Instead, it was the face of heartache, of pain, of a person who had given up. All the emotions I had blended together; I couldn’t distinguish them. I knew I felt a sordid version of hate for Quell for asking me to do such a thing and forcing me to make this decision. I despised him for causing me to regret killing Michaela.

  I clung to those feelings because I needed them to do this. It wasn’t possible for me to consider this an act of love or mercy, so I had to make it something else. Anger and hate were all I had.

  They just weren’t enough. My feet were rooted to the ground. Seconds later, Quell had cleared the distance between us. In silence, his hands covered mine and moved it over his heart. He squeezed my hand and kept his dark gaze on mine. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since they were green. My eyes drifted to the ground, and when I finally lifted them, I found him looking at me, expressionless. Desperately, I wanted to see an inkling of apprehension, fear, or anything that would give me a reason not to do it. Nothing.

  “Why me? You could have had anyone do this,” I whispered.

  “No, I couldn’t have, because you’re the last person I needed to see.”

  The tears I’d been fighting spilled and blurred my vision so I couldn’t see what I was about to do. My hand shook, and I fought to keep it steady enough to complete the task. I’d staked vampires before. I drew back, my mouth as dry as the Sahara.

  “Do it,” he urged.

  I nodded, drew back even farther, and held, for just a second, before driving the stake forward. It was an inch or so from his chest when Ethan took hold of my arm, slid his hands down until they reached mine, and took the stake from me. His thumbs swept over my face several times, removing tears. He kissed me.

  “We need to talk,” he growled through clenched teeth and grabbed Quell roughly, yanking him back. Quell jerked out of his hold, moved back several feet, and bared his fangs. Ethan automatically assumed a defensive position, snarling. He shifted his gaze from his target, Quell, to me, and with great effort, he forced himself to relax. He tossed the stake aside.

  “We need to talk. Now.” He glared at Quell, and after a few moments of consideration, Quell shook his head.

  “It wasn’t a request,” Ethan growled, ire putting a sharp edge to his voice. “You will do it. The manner in which you do is up to you.”

  After several moments of hostile silence and sharp glares, Quell nodded and followed Ethan deeper into the woods.

  I didn’t bother to listen. I knew they would be too far away for me to hear. And honestly, I didn’t want to. I wanted to be anywhere but there.

  I went into the house, showered, and went to bed. I lay there in the darkness, waiting for Ethan. It took nearly an hour before he returned, and he went straight to the shower. The smell of Quell on him probably bothered him.

  Naked, Ethan slid into bed next to me. For a long moment, there was a pregnant silence between the two of us. And then he rolled over on his k
nees and hands and straddled me, his face just inches from mine. He leaned in closer and kissed me lightly, his tongue laving my bottom lip as he pulled away, tasting it. He kissed me again on my cheek and ran gentle trails down my neck until he came to my breast and delivered the same treatment to each one. He was gentle and warm, but a controlled primal lust was there, ready to be unleashed. He nestled between my legs. His teeth nipped at the tender skin around my neck, my shoulders, and my stomach, and then he moved lower. His tongue left moist trails down my legs before he settled in, tasting me. Just before I went over the edge, he stopped and sheathed himself in me. Our bodies moved in a slow, serene rhythm as he savored the moment. His eyes fixed on me, warm, intense, wanton. I wrapped my legs around him as he curled his hands around me, pulling me closer to him, moving in a rush as we found our pleasure. His body collapsed against mine, and heat radiated around me, warming me. I stroked his hair and listened to the gentle rhythm of our hearts, connected, moving as one. He placed warm, tender, kisses on my shoulder.

  He pulled away to look at me, his eyes gentle and entreating. “Skylar,” he started softly. “How long are we going to pretend that Quell isn’t in love with you?”

  “Quell isn’t—”

  “Sky, don’t.”

  “I’m not pretending. Quell’s and my relationship is anything but typical. And you knew this.” I pressed my hand against his cheek to relax the tension in his face as his jaw clenched. He rolled to the side, and we lay back, looking at the ceiling.

  “It’s something I just don’t understand. I get the relationship you have with Steven. It’s weird, but I understand it. And I understand the affinity you have for my brother. But this thing with Quell—I don’t get it,” he admitted, the moonlight that streamed through the window showing the strained lines on his face.

  “Ethan, I don’t get it, either. I remember he was okay with dying and I forced him not to because I couldn’t bear it. He’s here because of me.”

  “He wants you to end the situation.” Ethan’s voice was cold, even cruel, but I had to give him credit. I knew he was willing to rectify that situation but only resisted the temptation to do so because of me.

  “I’m never going to be cavalier about life. I wish I could be. It would make life so much easier. But I know him. I’ve spent late nights having conversations with him.” I ignored the growl that reverberated in Ethan’s chest and continued, “He’s my friend. And I don’t think it’s as simple as Michaela missing in his life—”

  “Michaela isn’t missing in his life. You took her away. You killed her. And there are consequences anytime things like this happen. There are always consequences, Skylar. Sometimes, they are negligible, but oftentimes, they aren’t.”

  Ethan was right. That heavy burden of guilt rested over me like an old blanket pulled too tight, making breathing more difficult. Everything we did had consequences, most of them unforeseeable. Dexter was the consequence of an action we’d taken. It had been justified and the right thing to do, but now we were dealing with the consequences.

  “I don’t know if Quell loves me in a platonic or romantic way. I only know how I feel about him. And I care about him. I don’t love him, not in the sense you think.”

  “I don’t think anything. I just need to understand.”

  Ethan had made a good point—I was selfish. I wanted Quell to live because he reminded me of my humanity, something I saw slipping away with each passing moment. I had a tenuous grasp on it, and at times, it seemed invisible, as if I’d shrugged it off like a cumbersome jacket. He represented the expectations of humanity, goodwill, and altruism. Letting him die was letting part of me do the same. I knew it was silly, but I couldn’t stop feeling that way.

  “Just let me fix this, please.”

  “Okay.” Ethan rolled away from me, and I felt more than physical distance between us. I leaned forward and kissed his shoulder, then he turned to face me.

  His scowl wouldn’t relax. He watched me for a long time and was careful with his words when he finally spoke. He seemed to have shifted from my lover, my mate, to the Beta. I knew I wasn’t going to like the way this conversation went. “Sky, I want you to fix this. I want it not to be a problem for us or the pack. Quell in your life means we have to deal with the Northern Seethe and Demetrius. This is bigger than my mate having an odd relationship with another man. He’s a problem and always has been. So fix it if you think you can, but if you don’t, I will.”

  I nodded, accepting the responsibility, knowing that inevitably, someone would intervene if I didn’t resolve this.

  I fell into an uncomfortable, restless sleep.

  CHAPTER 3

  When I woke up, I realized it hadn’t even been two hours since I’d attempted to sleep. I knew I wasn’t going to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Quell’s face. The sorrow. The anguish. The tortured existence. I rolled out of bed and quickly pulled on underwear, a bra, jeans, and a t-shirt and started out the bedroom door.

  “Tell Demetrius if he touches you, what I will do to him will be used as a cautionary tale for years to come. And some people will have to skip the more gruesome parts.”

  “Should I tell him that before I greet him or afterward? If I tell him before, I doubt he’ll let me in. And if I tell him after my greeting, it will make me sound insincere,” I said lightheartedly.

  Poking the bear. That’s exactly what I was doing. I shouldn’t have. Ethan was being uncharacteristically calm, and I knew he was doing it on my behalf. Because I needed this. “I’ll be safe, I promise.”

  Before I left the house, I stood in front of the umbrella stand where I kept my sword and debated whether to take it. Showing up with a weapon didn’t exactly facilitate open and amicable dialogue. But, I was dealing with Demetrius—I doubted I was going to get gentle banter. I decided against the sword and moved toward the front door when I heard Ethan say, “You really should take it with you.”

  I considered ignoring him, but he was right. Demetrius had fangs; I needed something, too. I grabbed the sword, the knife I kept stashed in the coffee table drawer, and my handy nine iron, which I kept by the door. I used the sword more often because all I had to do was swing and cut. It served its purpose, and I wasn’t treated to the same derisive looks I received when I pulled out the golf club. I stood firmly by my belief that it was an acceptable weapon. It wouldn’t lop off a body part, but it was far from harmless. Those who doubted and mocked it didn’t feel the same way after I’d wacked them with it.

  I spent twenty minutes outside the house trying to come up with other viable options besides talking to him. I went over my decision as I drove to Demetrius’s. He was the Master of the North, and his power and control were undeniable. Given his long history as the Master, he had to have dealt with a situation similar to Quell’s.

  I sighed loudly. This was definitely among the top ten bad choices I’d made over the years. Sawdust filled my mouth at the idea that I needed Demetrius. He wouldn’t make this easy—benevolence wasn’t n his nature. Indifference was his usual. He cared little about anything except power and Chris, former Hunter and recently made vampire. His hatred for Ethan was another exception. Was it caused by Ethan’s past relationship with Chris, or Demetrius’s primal desire to subjugate another dominant person? It was hard to know if that need was instinctive—a desire to feel safe—or his ego, which was enormous.

  I waited in my car for a few minutes, staring at his house, which was peculiarly inviting but extravagant like most vampires’. Their homes often leaned toward the ostentatious. Grand structures surrounded by intricate and lavishly designed pillars, with wrought iron gates separating them from a community that knew little of their existence. Some people came to visit and never returned home; others were used as toys, even food, and compelled to meet an innumerable number of the vampire’s needs.

  I left the sword and the nine iron in the car and shoved the knife into the back of my pants once I was out of the car. The blade was long and sharp. I
couldn’t cut off a vampire’s head with it, but I could cause a lot of damage if one attacked me. I got a glimpse of that mark on my wrist. The small interlocking black rings were a reminder that I no longer had access to magic. That I had performed—or attempted to perform—a very powerful spell that came with the penalty of death. I was torn between how I felt about the consequences of doing the spell. I didn’t have access to magic, which I’d gotten used to, but I wouldn’t have it if Demetrius misbehaved—which was likely. I ambled toward the large Mediterranean-style stone home that was so uniquely misplaced among the other nondescript suburban homes. As I made my way up the winding path, I passed a familiar SUV. Winter. When I stopped at the window, she gave me a little wave and flashed a small grin.

  I tapped on the window, and she rolled it down. “Let me guess. Ethan told you to come here.”

  She shrugged. “All I know is that he promised I could kill vampires. I’m just here for the vampire killing. Whatever bizarre vampire business you have going is none of my concern.”

  I peeked into her car. She was there for more than just an altercation; she’d brought an arsenal of weapons. I made a face. She dismissed me with a wave of her hand.

  “Like I said, I’m just here for the vampires. If you have a problem with this, I suggest you call Ethan.”