Blood of a Huntsman: After Darkness Falls Book Two

by Sage, May

  She nodded. "I think you may not know the recent developments among my family."

  Levi inclined his head. "You're probably right."

  "My mother is a Stormhale, and she married one of the family slayers thirty years ago. I'm their first child; my little sister is the second. But my brother…" Catherine knotted her hands on her lap.

  She hated speaking about her siblings.

  "My half-brother isn't like Drusilla. He doesn't share her limits. He might be young, but he's…something else. If Drusilla gets him to fight us, he'd burn you all to a crisp before you can even think to use whatever magic you may possess."

  Levi lifted one brow.

  "Every mage needs time."

  "Yes. But my brother's father was a scion. You may need a minute. Seth will be ready in a fraction of a second."

  Levi groaned. "I hate nephilim." He turned to Bash. "Call Jack."

  Catherine winced. "This is not common knowledge. If the information gets out, my family will know it came from me."

  "Jack can keep a secret," Chloe promised.

  "Besides, we need him to know what to expect. If he hears this now, he might get his shit together and prepare accordingly."

  Bash wasn't fond of the turn in the conversation. "Jack is always prepared for a fight."

  "Yes, yes." Levi was dismissive. "He gets his friends to run around the territory and attends whatever class he's supposed to take. But he does nothing to better himself. And right now, we need Jack Hunter."

  He wanted to defend his friend, but come to think of it, had Bash ever seen Jack exert himself? He ran alongside them without breaking a sweat and while wearing suits. When he sparred with his cousin, he didn't even pant.

  Bash knew what Jack was—every huntsman did. The kid of their High Guard and a minor god. The blood of a huntsman mixed with that of a true immortal.

  What were his limits?

  It irked Bash that Levi seemed to know more than he did about his best friend.

  He nodded and pulled out his phone, sending a quick text.

  We need to talk.

  Wings and Fury

  Cat didn't know why she was tagging along with Bash, but he hadn't protested, so she followed him down the west flank of the hill toward the lake.

  They found the gate closed. Bash tried to open it, and winced.

  "Shit. The bloody thing shocked me. Magic shields."

  Cat chuckled. "Here, let me."

  She stepped forward and opened it, ignoring his protests. The handle gave in when she tugged it down.

  "Stormhale, remember? The hill is warded against outsiders."

  Bash rolled his eyes, muttering something probably true about nepotism.

  They spotted Jack by the lakeside as soon as they turned down the path. He was standing in front of the lake, practicing the violin. Although he hit a few wrong notes, the man played with feeling and skill. A rendition of a pop song Cat couldn't remember. It had never sounded quite so good.

  He finished the song and turned to greet them.

  "I didn't know you played," Sebastian said.

  Jack shrugged. "I used to as a kid. I stopped after moving here. I didn't have an instrument."

  "You could have bought one," Catherine pointed out.

  "I didn't have the time," Jack amended. "Besides, I mostly played for my mother. No one here would care to listen to an average violinist. But I digress. Your text said you had to speak to me urgently."

  Bash nodded. "Yeah. Something Levi said."

  Cat saw Jack's back stiffen and his eyes narrow.

  "I know what the Leviathan wants of me," he replied. "Just because he embraces being a monster doesn't mean the rest of us have to. Is that all?"

  "There have been developments. Levi thinks we may need your monster. Whatever that is."

  Sebastian glanced at Cat, and she could tell he wished she weren’t there.

  "Look, I get it. I feel like that. Like I'm out of control. Like these new…gifts of mine make me a monster, because it feels unnatural. But it's who I am now. And whatever you are, you were born that way."

  "You have no clue what you're talking about. You, Tris, even that damn sucker. You're human. Red blood runs in your veins. You may have been turned, infected, changed, but you're part of this world, made to exist on Earth."

  "And you're not?" Sebastian snorted. "Your mom is a hunter, descended from the very first huntsman trained by Eirikr. The Venaris were the second. Whatever I am, we are brothers. The blood in our veins is the same. Or it was."

  It happened so fast that Cat couldn’t have stopped it even if she’d been prepared. One moment they were all standing close together, and the next, she and Bash were both firmly pinned to the ground, her chest crushed under heavy weight. Cat was too shocked to even try to break free.

  Two sets of humongous wings with pure white feathers had burst out of his back, destroying his suit in the process and pushing them down on their asses. Cat didn’t even think Jack had done it on purpose.

  Jack’s wings moved, somewhat reluctantly, to extend at his sides. And now that he'd revealed his true form, his eyes were dark as night, hollow.

  He tucked the wings behind him, and they slowly crawled back inside his skin. The glint in his eyes disappeared. Jack turned around. Four ugly scars ran from his neck to the bottom of his shoulder blades.

  "Tell me we're the same now."

  Sebastian was speechless.

  "Even among the gods themselves,” Jack said, “my kind is known to be wild. The Skylars, we're called. Most of the Enlightened avoid them. The wings have a will of their own. Making them move consciously takes more strength than anything I’ve ever done. There's an actual beast inside. It doesn’t recognize you, or my cousin, or my own mother as an ally. If I let them, the wings would impale anyone who gets too close to me in my sleep. Every day, that thing tries to win, tries to take control of me. There’s a Mr. Hyde crawling inside me. You're no monster, Bash. Not compared to me."

  Well, that was quite enough of that.

  Catherine pushed to a crouch and lunged at the man, feigning to aim for his chest but jumping down to trip him before shoving her heel to his throat.

  "What is it with huntsmen and their poor footwork?" she mused, before redirecting her attention to the man under her foot. "First things first. You do not touch me, or any other lady, without her express invitation. Tell that to your damn wings. Shove me, and you'll get kicked sevenfold. Second thing: enough with the self-pity. You're pathetic. The emo thing has a sixteen-year-old expiration date. Get your damn shit together, huntsman. Because if you don't, your friends are screwed."

  "My friends—" he croaked.

  She lifted her heel just high enough for him to speak.

  "My friends do just fine. I train them to the best of my ability."

  "But no one trains you. Clearly," she added, waving toward his body, still on the ground. "If I can take you, you wouldn't last a minute against Seth."

  "Wait, who's Seth?"

  Cat finally moved her heel away.

  "My brother. Another one of you. Half scion, or whatever you call yourselves these days. We may be able to deal with my family, with the Beauforts, and maybe even with the queen, but not one of us can take my brother. And Levi thought you might be able to." She grimaced. "I doubt it."

  Jack leaped to his feet.

  "What sort of threat are we talking about?"

  "A storm," she replied.

  Jack tilted his head. "Storms have no effect on me. No air magic does."

  No wonder Levi had wanted to rope him in against Seth.

  "Good. But Seth will still kick your ass. You're out of shape."

  "I let you knock me over, woman."

  She snorted. "Right. Keep telling yourself that."

  "My darling boy! We didn't expect you for some time."

  Seth smiled pleasantly at the family matriarch, as he always did. It wouldn't do to bare his teeth in front of a predator such as her.

&nb
sp; "You call, I answer, Aunt Drusilla."

  She laughed and opened her arms to cage him in.

  Many believed that Seth Stormhale's greatest power was over the storms. He disagreed. His true gift was his uncanny ability to see through bullshit.

  Drusilla was so full of it.

  She'd told him to come the first week of July. He knew that meant she wanted him then and not one minute sooner.

  After checking with his cousins scattered around the world, Seth's suspicions were confirmed. Everyone had been recalled. Which meant one thing.

  The clan was preparing for war.

  He wasn't against it. He'd expected such a call since the moment the world had heard about her. Chloe Eirikrson. A relic from an old world the vampires had tried to bury. And failed.

  Seth was easily bored, and he had to admit the situation was incredibly interesting.

  "You must be tired from your journey. I'll have your quarters prepared at once."

  "No need to rush the staff, Aunt Dru, it's my fault for failing to warn you of my arrival. I'll stay with Claudia until my rooms are set up."

  He'd intended to speak to his sister in any case. She might be young, but she had eyes and ears that worked just as well as any other spy’s.

  "I'm afraid Claudia's away at the moment, but her rooms should be empty if you want to rest."

  Away? That made little sense. At eighteen, the girl was rarely permitted outside of Stormhall, to Seth's knowledge. The Stormhales were protective of their youth.

  "Where is she?"

  Drusilla said some words, gave explanations. All Seth heard was more bullshit.

  He made up an excuse and walked through the familiar palazzo until he'd reached his little sisters’ apartments. Catharina used to have the right side and Claudia the left, but now that the elder of the two was in Scotland, his youngest sibling had claimed the entire floor. It was pristine. Not one cushion out of place.

  "Cendric."

  The window flew open in less than ten seconds. A large man, fast as a shadow, appeared. Cendric was the oldest and strongest among the Stormhale guards and slayers. The true leader of their forces.

  The seventy-year-old vampire took one step forward before dropping to his knees.

  "My lord."

  He had many questions. But first things first.

  "My sister. Report."

  Underneath It All

  Bash couldn't stop smiling as they headed back to the dorms. He didn't think he'd ever seen anyone get the better of Jack that way.

  "What?" Catherine snapped.

  He might have been staring for too long.

  "I'm just amazed by the extent of your apathy. I didn't think it was possible for anyone to hear a sad story and react with so little compassion. Do you kick puppies, too?"

  Catherine rolled her eyes. "Your friend didn't need compassion. He's feeling sorry enough for himself. He needed a reality check."

  "Like me," Bash added.

  She shrugged. "Think what you will. I can show compassion. To those whose misery isn’t of their own making."

  Fast as they were, they reached the doors in no time. Bash found that he didn't want to say goodbye quite yet. Even though he had a paper to write, and apparently, a self-defense class to prepare for, he liked Catherine's company.

  "Shall we play a game?" He immediately regretted the question.

  She didn't look like the type of person who enjoyed wasting her time like that.

  "What sort of a game?"

  He shrugged. "A videogame. There are some in the common room. Not sure which. Or chess, if you prefer. You'd definitely have a better chance of winning at that, I'd wager."

  Catherine shrugged. "Sure thing. Let's try a video game."

  The woman was seriously annoying. Was there anything she didn't excel at?

  "Again," he growled, pressing the button to start a new challenge.

  He hadn’t played the racing track in a while, but after a single race, where he'd happily smashed her by a full minute, Catherine had memorized all commands. She pulled moves he'd never seen in his life, shoving her car at just the right angle to hit a code up in the air and then reappearing a mile up the road.

  "What the hell was that?"

  "No one likes a sore loser."

  "No one likes a perfect Barbie robot, damn you!"

  She snorted. "As far as insults go, I'm sure you could do better."

  Losing again, although it had been his best time, he threw the remote control across the sofa. Time to admit defeat and lick his wounds.

  Bash glared at Catherine.

  "Admit it. You played that game before."

  She grinned. "Only for fifteen years or so."

  Bash laughed, half relieved, because maybe she was human after all, and half incredulous. She really didn't strike him as the sort of woman who could let her hair down and chill. But then again, he'd seen her room. And he knew she loved to pause and watch all sorts of creatures.

  There were two Catherines, he realized. The cold, unfeeling front she showed to the world, and the other one. Softer. Not kinder, exactly, but certainly more real. He wondered how many people got to see her. He wondered how many people got to touch her.

  But he couldn’t.

  “You can be kind of fun, Stormhale. When you want to."

  She snorted. "That's a far leap from hating me a week ago."

  He'd said that, hadn't he? "Fine. Maybe I don't hate you. It's just fucking frustrating how easily you seem to waltz through life. Perfect at everything. Being a lady, a vampire, a goddamn videogame player."

  Catherine took a swig of beer. "Maybe we aren't as different as I first thought. I watch you struggle with something that seems so simple to me, and I find it frustrating as hell, too, you know. The composure? That's normally easy to me. Effortless. I only got where you came from after tasting true hunger. Before, I couldn't even comprehend it clearly. But just because I don't suffer from thirst like you doesn't mean I don't have problems."

  He wasn't sure he would have believed that earlier, but after the last few days, he got it. She had one issue: her last name. And everything and everyone who went with it.

  Rather than voicing his guess, he asked, "What kind of problems?"

  She seemed startled by his curiosity.

  "Well, you shove your nose in my business and tell me what to do. I should do the same. Even out in the field."

  She rolled her eyes. "All right. So, my problem is my siblings."

  He hadn't expected that.

  "You have two, right?"

  Catherine nodded. "Yes, Seth and Claudia. Our extended family is full of bullshit and complication, but the three of us…we have fun, you know? Sure, I bicker with Claudia. All the time. She sneaks into my closet and steals my shoes. Then she spars with them and brings them back unpolished."

  She was grinning from ear to ear, proving she didn't really mind. Bash gasped dramatically. "No!"

  "I didn’t even tell you the state my favorite suede boots were in after she took them on a damn hunt. And Seth is…a lot. Megalomaniacal as hell. He doesn't even believe he can lose or be wrong. The annoying thing is, he’s generally right."

  Catherine Stormhale had never looked quite so human. Relatable. Bash looked away; if he didn't, he might end up pulling her to him. Touching her. Kissing her.

  She'd been clear. No more kissing. He wasn't one to ignore a woman’s wishes.

  But trying to convince her to change her mind had never been quite so tempting.

  "So what's the issue?"

  She sighed. "There's a war coming, and we aren't on the same side."

  Oh. Yeah, that.

  "If it came down to stopping my uncles and aunts from entering Oldcrest, I wouldn't think twice. I'd fight them." A laugh escaped her delicious lips. "I might even enjoy it, in some cases. But Claudia or Seth…"

  "No one is asking you to fight your brother or sister."

  She nodded. "I know. But that's what it comes down to, even if
I don't face them directly. A line has been drawn between our clan and Oldcrest. They're with Stormhall, and I'm here."

  Bash tried to imagine fighting against Emilia and Paul, but the notion was inconceivable. Whatever line there was, he'd cross it and drag them both along by his side.

  "Do they have to be?" he asked her. "On the other side. Have you asked them what they think?"

  He regretted his question. It was too simple. Of course she'd thought of that.

  "I can't. I can't contact them on my family's network. You don't know what it's like in Stormhall. There are servants everywhere, reporting on our every move. Our emails are watched, too."

  Bash said, "Sure. Too bad you don't have a witch friend or two who could help you send some secret correspondence, right?"

  Catherine blinked. She clearly hadn't considered that.

  Then she bit her lips. "It'd be dangerous. Claudia could go straight to Drusilla. She could be ordered to spy for her, or worse."

  "It comes down to how much you trust your siblings."

  Silence stretched between them. Her forehead wrinkled as she considered her options.

  Then, she said, "That was…strangely enlightening. I should chat with you more often."

  Bash laughed. "Yeah, you should.” He didn’t want her to go, so out of curiosity, he added, "What about your parents?"

  For some reason, he expected her face to turn somber, but instead, she smiled again.

  "They're irrelevant. When it comes to fighting and sides and wars, anyway. My mom was always a free spirit. A vampire hippie, if you would."

  Bash tried to imagine that. A Catherine with flowers in her hair, dancing barefoot. He laughed his ass off. "I would love to meet her."

  "No, you would not," she replied firmly. "Anyway, she was always a great disappointment to the part of my family who's after power—Aunt Drusilla, her own parents, basically everyone. Fortunately, she was the youngest of five children, all four more useful than she, so they mostly left her alone. Josephine—that's her name—is incredibly beautiful. The prettiest among us, I'd say. Drusilla made her have a fling with a male scion once. Seth's father. Then, when that ended, Aunt Drusilla brought Seth to Stormhall and left her alone. She has a palazzo in Venice, away from Stormhall. My mom travels the world and has as much fun as she can muster. She had a bodyguard following her around, of course. And thirty years ago, she married him. They still travel all the time."