Blood King (Spirit Seeker Book 1)

by Amber K. Bryant

  Raelyn trailed right behind him. He shrugged her off when she offered her arm for support. Her eyes iced over. “Got what you wanted from me, huh, bloodthirster?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  The door to the cabin flew open and Devin came running out to meet them. “Jesus Christ, Elis, this is your doing. You have to stop her!”

  Fighting off dizziness, Elis hastened his pace. “Stop who?”

  Devin’s hands balled into fists. “I’d describe her for you but she’s a tad invisible.”

  Dread filled his heart. Dammit, they’d been so close to escaping.

  Seeing him struggle, Devin dragged him the rest of the way into the cabin. Elis nearly collapsed again when he realized what was happening there. A young girl sat hunched in a corner, wailing, her hands around her knees as she rocked back and forth. Sybille’s cousin Zareen was pulling on Sybille’s arm…. And Sybille…

  He rushed over to her. Eyelids fluttering, eyes rolled back into her head, her body lay taught against the couch, neck bent at a weird angle. Hovering just above the surface of Sybille’s chest was the woman he had once loved more than life itself, the woman he’d spent lifetimes with, whom he had killed with and fed on. The woman he’d mourned over a century.

  “Don’t do this, Juliana.”

  Juliana’s spectral body froze. “It’s for your own good, Elis. Everything I’ve ever done for you has been for your own good.”

  Sybille moaned, turning her head from side to side. For a moment, her eyes slid back into place, warm hazel pools focusing upon his own. “I don’t have the strength to keep her out, Elis. Stay back.”

  “No! Come on Sybille, you do have the strength, you do! You have to!”

  She moaned again. This didn’t look good.

  Elis turned to Devin. “Take the others and get out of here.”

  “Why does everyone keep telling me to leave? I’m not going to do that. Don’t you get it? It would be just like it was in her vision.”

  “It doesn’t matter now. Juliana will use Sybille’s body to kill every last one of us, including her.” He pointed to the young girl weeping in the corner.

  Raelyn placed a hand on Devin’s arm. “You promised me you’d save Charlie. I brought Elis back to you. Now you have to do your part.”

  “I know, dammit!” Devin punched a chair next to the door. It tottered on one of its legs before falling over.

  He ran to the little girl, scooping her up in his arms. “Zareen, let’s go.”

  Zareen hesitated, her lips trembling as her focus shifted between Devin and her cousin. “This is my fault. I brought Juliana here. How can I just leave?”

  “How do you think I feel? I got Sybille mixed up in this mess, too. There’ll be time for us both to feel guilty later. I don’t want to have to explain to your husband and kids how you died because you were too stubborn to run when you had the chance. Come on!”

  Zareen sighed, but then nodded in agreement. With one more anguished look at her cousin, she headed towards the door, Devin and Charlie right behind her. Before she could make it over the threshold, though, she froze in her tracks. “We’re too late. They’re here.”

  She slammed the door closed and bolted it.

  Elis turned his thoughts from the tug-of-war possession taking place in front of him long enough to try to make sense of her words. “What? Who’s here?”

  Raelyn peered out the front window. “It looks to be the whole damned undead population of the Low.”

  Elis stayed near Sybille, craning his neck so he could glimpse through the front and side windows. A caravan of cars formed a line down the length of the driveway. More thirsters made their way toward the cabin on foot, emerging from the forest. A few pushed canoes onto shore from the lake.

  They would be surrounded soon. Inundated.

  Raelyn swore under her breath. “And look who’s leading the charge. It seems like the Blood King’s found something so desirable it trumps his fear of Elis Tanner.”

  The army of bloodthirsters froze. Devin, with Charlie still in his arms, Raelyn, Zareen—everyone stopped moving, nearly stopped breathing. They were trapped in a moment, stilled by a scream so terrible, it was as though the most cursed beast had uttered it. But it was no beast; it was Sybille, her final defenses against the onslaught of Low, thirster, and Juliana obliterated. As Juliana slid inside of her, her mind retreating to its cold, tiny box, the entire world paused.

  When it started again, there was a new demon in its midst.

  “Come on in, Sybille. I’ve made pie. Custard—your favorite! Didn’t the meringue turn out lovely?” Sybille’s mother was dressed in an orange taffeta A-line skirt over which she’d tied on an apron that read “Kiss me, I’m psychic.” She held the custard pie out so that Sybille could attest to its tempting appearance.

  “It smells heavenly, Mom, but you know, I’m in the middle of a possession right now, and not one that I sanctioned. I don’t have time for pie.”

  “Oh honey, must you be so serious? There’s always time for pie.”

  “No, I mean it, Mom. You’re just an illusion Juliana set up for me to keep me distracted so I don’t try to kick her out of my body. So really, I don’t have time for pie, or for you either.”

  Her mother frowned, setting the steaming dish down on the kitchen table, then wiped her hands on a checkered dishcloth. “I suppose that’s true.” She looked down at her feet. “Your real mother would never wear heels while she baked, would she?”

  “That would be a no.” Her mother’s kitchen didn’t look anything like this one, either, so clean and organized and like it hadn’t seen a day past 1955. Juliana had gotten her mother’s love of cooking right, and the custard meringue pie too, but the rest of the details were way off. “I’m going to have to shut you down now. Any last words of fake motherly advice for me?”

  Margot grabbed a knife and began to slice into the gooey custard. “Always use real butter. None of that artificial margarine crap. It’s filled with chemicals. And your crusts won’t come out flaky; they’ll be way too dense.”

  “That’s not very helpful.”

  “I doubt your real mother would have done much better.” She lifted out a piece of pie, deposited it onto a plate and stuck a fork in it, holding it out to Sybille. “Are you sure you don’t want a slice?”

  It took all her strength to shake her head no. “Bye, Mom.”

  The kitchen faded and with it her mother’s face as she savored a fork full of sugary butter-filled goodness on the tip of her tongue, shutting her eyes in pure delight. Then she was gone, the striped yellow, pink, and green wallpaper swapped out with walls made of heavy logs, her mother’s face replaced by Elis’.

  I’m still here, Elis.

  But was she? She could see the cabin, but she had no control over which direction her body was turned. Hell, she couldn’t even blink when she wanted to. Juliana was at the helm. All Sybille could do was try to stay conscious of the events playing out, try to remain present even though she wanted more than anything to retreat back to her mother’s bygone-era kitchen and eat that entire custard pie. She didn’t want to see the horrible things Juliana was about to do. Regardless, she forced herself to witness it. Every moment. It was the only way to keep herself from becoming so lost she would never find her way back to herself.

  The hardest thing was continuing to believe she wanted to keep fighting to return to herself. Because if she didn’t, soon there would be nothing left for her to return to.

  Sybille’s body was a marvel. Perhaps it was the fact that it had been over one hundred years since she’d had her own; maybe it was something about Sybille herself. Whatever the case, Juliana spent a moment basking in the sheer pleasure of possessing fingers and legs and eyes. While she basked, the world paused. They knew, as she did, that something extraordinary was occurring.

  The Low thrummed around her. It wanted this, wanted Juliana to do this, but the thirsters waiting at the door wanted it as well. Sybille would fi
ght them with everything she had. Even relegated to a tiny corner of her brain, Juliana could still feel the woman’s strength. She wouldn’t let the thirsters just take her. Not this one.

  Where Sybille was desirable to the thirsters, Juliana was a powerful unknown. They would want that power for themselves, if they could get it. Even that odd thirster woman, Raelyn, was fighting the urge to open one of Sybille’s veins. Only Elis seemed free from this need. His spirit must be keeping him sane, perhaps. She refused to dwell upon the hard rage pouring off of him. This woman, Sybille, had merely been a temporary distraction, a tiny blip on the endless timeline she herself shared with him. And now that blip was over, and so were they.

  Elis would follow her to freedom. She could end this.

  This thought concluded her moment of revelry. Juliana was ready to show them who she really was now.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Elis chanted her name like a mantra.

  “Sybille, Sybille, Sybille.”

  The recitation stilled the world around him. For a moment, the thirsters stopped advancing on the cabin. The others there with him paused in their panicking. Juliana paused as well. He couldn’t say if this was a good or bad sign. He’d seen Sybille possessed before, he knew what it meant, that she would lose control and be subjected to whatever the spirit inside of her wanted to do. But he had also seen her fight. She’d been able to reclaim herself before.

  He held onto the hope that she’d be able to stop Juliana from whatever it was she had planned. Juliana, however, had other ideas.

  Sybille’s body squirmed and wriggled. Elis held her wrists down. The moment of calm over, her eyes flew open. Not the warm, lively eyes of Sybille, but the cold winter ice of Juliana’s.

  “I always did like it when you held me down, didn’t I?”

  Elis flinched. His Juliana had enjoyed that, not this wretched spirit woman. This being was a tattered remnant of the woman he’d known.

  “Don’t do this, Juliana. There’s no need.”

  She laughed, spreading her legs and wrapping them around him, drawing him closer to her. In the periphery of his vision, he caught Devin shielding Charlie’s eyes, turning her away from the scene.

  Juliana laughed again. “There is every need. Can’t you feel that, Elis? Don’t you want to devour her, your sweet psychic human? What would she taste like now, with me inside of her?” She brought her head close to Elis’, craning her neck so her silky skin brushed against his lips.

  He pulled back, trying to get out of her vice grip. He had almost bitten into her flesh, almost done exactly what Juliana wanted—lose control and destroy the only good thing he’d had in his life for as long as he could remember.

  “I won’t do it, Juliana. You need to release her.”

  “Oh, I will.” She dropped him then, causing him to lose balance and tumble backwards. Before he could stop her, she was up off the couch and running towards the kitchen.

  “No!” Zareen rushed at her, but Juliana swung without even having to look, planting a fist right in Zareen’s face. Hitting her head against the wall, Sybille’s cousin crumpled to the ground.

  Devin set Charlie on the ground and nudged her towards Zareen. “Go make sure she’s okay.” He crept around the counter, Elis joining him, and they watched as Juliana searched through drawers until she found what she wanted.

  “Just like in Sybille’s vision.” Devin swore as Juliana brandished a large knife, swinging it towards them until pointing it at her own chest.

  “Seem familiar, Elis?” Her gaze peered into Elis’ and then swung back to Devin’s. “He probably never told you, Devin, but this isn’t the first time Elis and I have done this dance. I killed myself once already for him. I’m not above doing it again.”

  Elis had a feeling Juliana would have him on his knees groveling and pleading soon. “But it’s not you who you’ll be killing. It will be Sybille.”

  She shrugged. “What’s your point?”

  “I thought you were above such pettiness and violence. This isn’t you. You’ve been telling me for decades that it was the beast who did wrong, and your only mistake was being unable to control the beast while you were linked with it.”

  “You’re right, Elis. That was my one mistake. Not being able to control you—your spirit and your beast. Had I not failed in that, none of this would have to have happened and your Sybille would be sitting safely at home trying to contact pathetic, forlorn spirits with her fashion-challenged family. Instead, I have her locked away in her own mind while I decide how many breaths she has left in her.”

  Devin moved forward, but Elis held him back as she brought the knife upwards, then dragged it back until it was once again pressed against Sybille’s heart. A thin scarlet line trickled down the blade’s edge. Shameful or not, Elis had to resist licking his lips as a delectable scent coiled around him—like a freshly baked pie topped with cinnamon ice cream.

  Devin slapped Elis’ hand away. “Let go of me!”

  “Look at her, Devin. She’ll do it. She’ll have the knife embedded in Sybille’s heart before you get to her.”

  “It’s just a flesh wound now, but…” She twisted the knife so that the tip cut a fraction of an inch further into her. “It could be much more than that. Tell me Elis, honestly. You want to come here and lick the knife clean, don’t you? I can feel your desire. It’s almost too much to resist. If I tore her open, you’d drink her as she died, wouldn’t you?”

  He shook his head. “No!”

  Juliana clucked her tongue. “You’re lying to yourself. Do you think your soul makes you more than a beast? I’m proof that’s not true.”

  The door of the cabin shook. Faces began appearing in the windows. Juliana pulled the knife away from Sybille. “Look at that, we have company.”

  Blood, thought Elis. She’d done that on purpose, drawing blood so that every thirster hovering around the cabin would feel the need to press in closer. If Juliana didn’t twist the knife into Sybille’s heart, the hundreds of ravenous thirsters would finish the job she’d started with their own teeth.

  Devin and Raelyn threw their weight against the front door. It wouldn’t hold for long, but it might buy them the time they needed.

  “I don’t believe you’re no better than your beast, Juliana. I can’t believe that. You never wanted to kill those people—that was your beast. You know if you’d had any control over it, you’d have stopped it.” Even now, referring to his Juliana as “it” set badly with him, but he had to win the spirit over somehow.

  Juliana wavered, the knife still pointed towards Sybille’s heart.

  “I know you only wanted to free my spirit and in doing so, to free the world of a menace. I didn’t want to believe you were right. The pain of losing you was too great.”

  “The pain of…” She raised her eyebrows.

  “Yes. Haven’t you figured that out? You say you did everything for me, but all I could feel was you being gone. I couldn’t accept that you were trying to keep me with you. I didn’t see it that way, but I do now.”

  The door continued to shake as Devin and Raelyn strained against it. Howls from outside echoed through the cabin. Peter’s charms and the siblings’ strength were bound to fail at some point; then the last barrier guarding them all from the hoard of unhumans would be no more.

  “Can you stop them?”

  Juliana narrowed her eyes. “Why would I want to do that?”

  “To show how powerful you are, and so that you can succeed at what you always wanted to succeed at.”

  “Which is?”

  “To kill me, kill my beast, and release my soul. Our spirits can depart the Now World together, just as you tried to do two years ago.”

  She wrapped a lock of Sybille’s hair around her finger. “Will you really go with me?”

  He took a tentative step in her direction. “You know I will. I’ve missed you so much. I’ve kept a picture of you. After I left you with Laurence that night, I wanted a reminder of how muc
h I loved you. So, I painted your image and kept it on my bookshelf.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Search Sybille’s memories. She’s seen it herself.”

  Juliana paused. It was an awkward affair, sorting through this human woman’s memories. She didn’t care for it, though she had to admit that as humans went, Sybille was less boring than most.

  She brought up memories linked to Elis, finding the one where Sybille scanned Elis’ office, her eyes eventually resting upon Juliana’s portrait. According to the memory, Sybille had even believed Juliana to be beautiful.

  That was satisfying. Juliana should have left off there, but by then, dipping into Sybille’s past had become addictive. She traced her memories back to the first night Elis had appeared to her, and to all the nights since.

  Her eyes widened as she realized something. “You…you love her.”

  Elis’ tentative step forward became a quick leap back. “What? No! I was drawn to her psychic abilities of course. I saw that I could use them. She was a means to an end, that’s all. I’ve known her for how long? A few months. I’ve known you since sixteen seventy-four. Honestly, how could she mean to me what you do, what you’ve always meant to me!”

  Her hands shook as they grasped the knife’s handle. “If you’re lying…”

  He kept his eyes focused on her own. “I’m willing to go with you, aren’t I? I’m willing to end my life to be with you. Please, Juliana!”

  Her name upon his tongue brought back so many memories, memories that where hers and hers alone, not this Sybille woman’s.

  “There is one thing I hate worse than what you did to me, Elis.”

  His eyes flickered to her chest and the weapon she held against it, then back up again. “What is it?”

  “Bloodthirsters.” She motioned with her knife to the faces lining the windows. “The beasts who keep their spirits trapped, who take and take from the innocent, who turn those innocents into beasts themselves. I hate every one of them.”