The End of Hatred

by Rebecca Hefner

  Finishing up, she stepped out of the water and took one last stretch in the sun, allowing her skin to dry naturally.

  “Well, what a nice view,” came a voice from the woods.

  Shrieking, she grabbed her towel and wrapped it around her body, clutching the top to her chest with her fists. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s just me, Miranda, calm down,” Darkrip said, his voice chiding. “I’d rather you save the view to seduce the Vampyre king.”

  Miranda took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to calm her furiously beating heart. “Hard to believe from a man who was discussing raping an innocent woman last time I saw him.”

  The Deamon’s eyes narrowed as he glared at her. Miranda felt something shift in her chest as she looked at him. She couldn’t quite place her finger on it but she had felt a strange sense of familiarity in his green-eyed gaze. Only for a second, and then it was gone. “I have no interest in raping you, Miranda. You understand nothing. It’s hard for me to deal with species such as yours and the Vampires’. Both of you so slow and stupid.” Sighing, he lifted his hand in a dismissive wave. “No matter, I don’t have a lot of time since the Vampyres surely heard you shriek, and I’ve come to update you.”

  “Update me on what?” she asked angrily.

  “Your cousin made contact with the youngest Vampyre royal, Heden, earlier this evening. It was a good exchange. They were quite amicable. I see them being loyal to our cause.”

  “We don’t have a cause,” Miranda said through her clenched teeth. “I told you that I have no wish to align with a Deamon and if you’re not careful, I’ll kill you with the Blade after I dispose of your father!”

  “Oooohhhhh,” he said in a jibing tone, “so snarky. Your Vampyre must love that.” His upturned lips formed a sarcastic smile. “I’ll bet he just can’t wait to whisper words of love in your pretty little ear—”

  “Fuck you, asshole.” She started to lift her hands to shove him but realized that would cause her to drop her towel.

  His laugh made her want to vomit. “Now, now, Miranda. Calm yourself. You get too worked up and we both know your spur-of-the-moment decisions are…shall we say…less than ideal. The Vampyre is good for you in that way. He has a calmness that will help you navigate your impulses and you have a courage that will help him take action. It’s a good match.”

  “My god, you’re infuriating. Please leave me alone.”

  “In due time. Take heed to what I said about your cousin and the king’s brother. I’ll be watching you. Make sure to pull strongly on the Blade.”

  Miranda was about to tell him she was going to pull strongly on his neck as she strangled him but instead she turned her head toward Sathan’s voice, coming from the woods. “Miranda! Are you okay? We heard you scream. I’m coming to help you.”

  Turning back, she discovered that Darkrip had vanished.

  “I’m fine,” she shouted, annoyed that yet again her privacy had been compromised. “I was just taking a bath. I’ll be back to camp in five minutes.”

  So much for a soothing dip in the lake. Scowling, she donned the clean clothes she’d brought with her and then headed back to camp, wondering the entire way what the son of the Deamon king really wanted with her.

  Chapter 12

  They hiked the remaining twelve miles in record time. Latimus found a clearing with a dense tree overhang about a ten-minute walk from the opening of the Cave of the Sacred Prophecy. As they prepared, Miranda heard him speaking to Sathan.

  “Be careful as you navigate the Cave. It’s been centuries since anyone has been in there and the foundation might not be secure. The archives say that it’s only a short distance to the Blade but that was written after the Awakening. Who knows if it’s true?”

  “I’ll be careful,” Sathan said, shaking his brother’s hand in a way that Miranda found quite formal. If Kenden were here she’d hug him until he couldn’t breathe. Feeling lonely, she blew out an impatient breath. “It would be great if we could head up there before the next century passes. I’m getting pretty tired of hanging out with Vampyres all day and would like to get this over with.”

  Sathan shot her a look. “Enough, Miranda. It’s a short walk so leave your pack here. The less we carry, the faster we’ll go.”

  “Thanks for your instructions, Dad,” she said, rolling her eyes, “but I think I’ll hang onto my knife, thank you very much. Can’t be too careful.” Giving him her sweetest smile, she batted her eyelashes, stuck her knife in the belt that held up her camouflage pants and turned to walk toward the path that led to the Cave.

  “Maybe just kill her once you’ve loosened the Blade,” Latimus said. “Prophecy or not, she’s a pain in the ass.”

  Miranda heard the remark and turned to give a retort but noticed that Sathan gave the same look of warning to his brother that he had just given her. Well, fine then.

  She continued on and heard Sathan’s footsteps behind her.

  A short time later they came to the mouth of the cave. As she began to enter, he grabbed her wrist.

  “Let me go first,” he said.

  “I’m perfectly capable—”

  “I know you are,” he said, squeezing her wrist. “But I don’t want you to get hurt. It might not be sturdy. Let me lead.”

  “Fine,” she said, pulling her arm from his grasp.

  Sathan entered and she ignored the slice of terror that shot through her spine as she followed him. Turning on the flashlight she carried on her belt, she walked through the darkness.

  Drops of water fell from the slick, rocky roof, the sound echoing like tiny pings in her ears. Although she was loath to admit it, she was thankful to have Sathan’s hulking body in front of her. She didn’t know why, but she believed he would save her if the cave started to collapse.

  Time seemed to stand still as they trekked through the dimness. Eventually, something gleamed in the beam of her flashlight. Approaching slowly, they came to stand in front of the rock that sheathed the Blade.

  The roof of the cave was only eight or nine feet tall where they stood and claustrophobia threatened to choke her. As they stared at the rock, the Blade it held seemed to wink at her in the shadows. Was it a sign? Ominous or hopeful? She didn’t know.

  The large, brown stone that held the Blade, and crested at her breastbone, beckoned to her. The last person who had stood here was her grandfather. Emotion clenched her throat as she contemplated the task before her.

  “So much pain and death resulted from this Blade,” Sathan said, his voice sober. “Are you sure you want to unsheathe it?”

  Miranda lifter her gaze to his black one, not understanding how she could still see his irises in the murkiness of the cave. And yet they seemed to tunnel into her very soul. “We have a chance to change the course of history. To end the death and destruction. I have to try.”

  A moment passed and he gave her a firm nod. Words were futile. It was time to act.

  Lifting a small knife from his waistband, he raised his left wrist, hand fisted, over the Blade. Miranda placed the still-lit flashlight on the ground and stood to mirror him with her left hand fisted over the Blade. With his right hand he sliced his knife over the pale skin of his wrist and blood began to ooze from the wound. Handing her the knife, she cut an incision into her own wrist and handed the knife back to him. Lifting their fists, they watched their blood drip and pool onto the juncture where the Blade met the stone.

  Silence stretched around them like an invisible casing. Miranda felt tightness in her chest and her breathing became labored. After several moments a trickle of frustration set in.

  “Patience,” Sathan murmured.

  Miranda’s reply was a scathing glare but he just stared calmly back at her. Intensely annoying, especially when she was trying not to notice how badly the cut on her wrist throbbed.

  And then, after several moments that seemed to last for eternities, the ground began to shake under her boots. Exhaling a quick breath she latched her free hand o
nto the handle of the Blade, attempting to pull it from the rock, but the stone was unforgiving.

  “Keep pulling,” Sathan said as he joined his wrist with hers so that their twin wounds were touching, mingling. Miranda felt a jolt at the contact that she neither wanted nor cared to acknowledge.

  “It’s not budging,” she said through her clenched teeth.

  “It will.”

  And then, as if it had only been encased in the air of a cloud, the Blade slipped from the stone and Miranda held it in her hand. Breaking contact with the Vampyre she held up the Blade, wonder in her expression.

  “We did it,” she said, her eyes wide.

  Sathan nodded. “Come,” he said, grabbing her bleeding wrist. “We don’t know how stable the cave foundation is. We need to get outside before we close our wounds.”

  His words echoed into her mind as if they’d been spoken from a chamber a thousand miles away. An energy entered her body and she looked up at her companion. Her foe. Her greatest enemy. Pulling her wrist from his she placed that hand on the handle as well, wielding it like the soldier her cousin had trained her to be.

  “Miranda,” he said, his expression puzzled. “We have to go. The ground is not solid.”

  One stroke. That was all it would take to strike him down. Like her grandfather before her, she could plunge the Blade into his heart and end him right here. It was made from a special poisoned steel that his self-healing body would never recover from.

  She knew the moment he realized what she was contemplating. Resignation overtook his expression as he lowered his hands to his sides and turned to face her fully.

  “Think long and hard about what course you want to take, Miranda,” he said, the soothing tranquility of his voice causing her further annoyance. “In your quest to rewrite history, I would hope that you don’t instead repeat it.”

  Anger bubbled up from her throat to her voice. “You’ve killed so many of my people,” she said, glaring at him in accusation.

  He nodded but the move was filled with resignation. “I’ve made many mistakes and live with the regret of every life lost in this endless war. But you have the power to change that. Killing me will be rewarding, for a moment perhaps, but my brother awaits outside the cave.”

  “I’ll kill him too!”

  “And how many others?” he asked, lifting his hands in frustration. “Will you kill until you become the monster you accuse me of being? Where will that leave you?”

  Miranda felt her chin quiver but was too enraged to be embarrassed. Suddenly, the ground shook beneath them and small rocks started falling from the roof.

  “The cave is collapsing, Miranda.”

  “Stop. Being. So. Calm.” The muscle in her jaw clenched. “I hate you so much. I could kill you right here, and your brother after you, and then Kenden could attack your compound. And my father would be proud. So proud of me.”

  “Yes, he probably would be. But you’re better than that. I don’t know you well but I’ve seen enough to know what a magnificent leader you can become. You said yourself, on the night we met, that it takes strength to find a peaceful solution instead of just killing your enemy. Show me how. We can do this together.” Slowly, palm up, he extended his hand toward her. “Take my hand. We have to get out of this cave.”

  In reaction, she clenched the weapon tighter, lifted it higher. Ready to strike. Loud grumblings echoed around them as the cave continued to shake and moan.

  Letting fury overtake her, Miranda gritted her teeth and swung the Blade.

  Sathan grunted and shifted out of the way, causing her to lose her balance. Quickly, she recovered and lifted the weapon to strike again.

  Quick as a lightning, his hand grabbed her belt and he spun her so that her back was to him.

  Giving a loud “oomph” when she crashed into his body, she tried to lift the Blade again. His massive arm snaked around her waist, holding her to his front. As she struggled, he pulled the Blade from her hands, throwing it to the ground.

  “You son of a bitch!” she sputtered, trying to escape the death grip he had on her.

  “Goddamnit, Miranda,” he said in her ear, the deep timbre of his voice sending shivers through her furious body. “I thought there was a possibility you’d try to kill me when you had the Blade but I had hoped you wouldn’t. Guess it was too much to ask.”

  Lifting the knife that he had sheathed in his belt, he deftly swung it so that the hilt faced out. With the speed of a cougar, he knocked the base of the knife into her skull.

  Miranda’s last thought was that her Vampyre had some serious skills with a knife. And then all she saw was darkness.

  * * * *

  As soon as Miranda crumpled to the ground, Sathan picked her up in his arms and grabbed the Blade. Small rocks falling from the ceiling of the cave had turned to larger ones and he knew he didn’t have much time to get them to safety.

  Running through the dusky tunnel he didn’t contemplate her actions. There would be time for that. Until then, he needed to make sure they both survived.

  Once he reached the cave’s entrance, Latimus rushed to him. “What the hell?” his brother asked.

  “Take her,” Sathan said, handing Miranda over. “We need to move further from the cave. It’s collapsing.”

  With a nod, his brother began to carry her down the trail and Sathan followed, licking his wrist to close the wound. Miranda’s cut would need attention but not until they reached their camp.

  After the ten-minute hike to their campsite, Latimus lowered Miranda to rest on a large log that sat by the fire pit. Scowling at Sathan, he began to build a fire. “What the fuck happened?”

  Sathan sat beside Miranda and lifted her wrist to examine her wound. “Hand me the towel and the water.” Latimus grumbled something unintelligible but gave his brother the items he requested. Sathan went about cleaning Miranda’s wound.

  “She tried to strike me,” Sathan finally said, “once she had the Blade.”

  His brother turned, his expression filled with incredulity. “What? And you let her live?”

  Turning her arm over as he worked, Sathan continued in his calm manner. “Besides the fact that our sister will die if she is harmed, yes, I let her live. She is special. The past few days has taught us both that. The blood of Valktor runs strong through her. We’re on the verge of something different here, Latimus. We have to put the past behind us.”

  “Bullshit,” Latimus said, standing now that the fire was lit and rubbing his hands on his black pants. “She’s the princess of our greatest enemy and she just tried to kill you.”

  “There was a fair bit of hesitation along with her hatred. Her indecision gives me hope. I’ve grown so weary of this war, of this life. It’s time to start a new chapter.” Lifting her wrist, Sathan began to lick it, ever-so-gently, to close the wound with his healing saliva.

  “Uh huh,” his brother said behind him, his tone mocking. “From the looks of it, maybe you just want to keep her alive so that you can fuck her. For the sake of the goddess, Sathan, have you really been blinded by Slayer pussy? She’s hot but this is ridiculous.”

  Sathan’s shoulders tensed. He focused every ounce of will on closing the Slayer’s wounds instead of turning around to punch the hell out of his brother. “I’ll caution you not to speak to me like that again.” Finishing up on his patient, he dropped Miranda’s wrist to her side, noticing that her head dipped a bit as she sat unconscious. Her bottom lip was slightly removed from her top and he could see the tiny pink tip of her tongue. That, along with licking her smooth, tan skin, had made him hard with arousal.

  But he’d die before admitting that to his brother.

  Inhaling a breath, he stood and faced him.

  “You’re my brother, Latimus, and my closest confidant, so I’ve let you slide on matters of respect. That ends today. I am the king of our people and with that comes a huge burden that you will never understand.” Anger began to seep into his tone, although he tried to keep it in check
. “Every time we abduct a Slayer from his family and he dies in our dungeon, I feel a black mark across my soul. Sometimes I feel my heart is so blackened that I will never be welcomed into the Passage. Etherya has forsaken me and our people live with constant darkness and death.”

  Inching closer, he lifted his finger and jabbed it toward his brother’s face. “If you trivialize this for one second and make it about anything else than my undying desire to free our people from this prison of war then you are no longer welcome in my council. You can go live with your Slayer whores at the edge of the compound for all I care.”

  Latimus lifted an eyebrow. “Are you done?” he asked, his tone unreadable.

  “Actually, no, I’m not. Stop being such an asshole to Lila. I don’t know what your problem is with her but she has been nothing but gracious to you and you treat her like shit. Her council is valuable to me and if you can’t be a decent person to her I’ll ban you from our sessions.”

  Latimus scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Stop jabbing your finger in my face, Sathan. I get it. You want to fuck the Slayer and keep fucking Lila. Good for you. Some of us are serious about fighting for our people. Honestly, man, what has happened to you lately? You used to be stronger than this.”

  Sathan fought the urge to deck his brother right in his long, structured nose. By the goddess, it would feel so good. But that would get him nowhere. Clenching his teeth, he struggled to keep his voice calm.

  “I’m taking the Slayer into her tent and I’ll stay there with her today. It’s almost dawn and I’m exhausted. Take some time to think about which side of history you want to be on, Latimus. I’m tired of this war and I’m intent on ending it. I’m also intent on uniting with the Slayers and taking Crimeous down. You can either join me or wallow in self-imposed misery at the edges of the compound for eternity. Your choice.” Lowering down, he picked up Miranda and the Blade and began walking to her tent.