The End of Hatred

by Rebecca Hefner

  “Sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t do war anymore. You should be grateful. Back when I used to kill I was merciless. I used to revel in the cries of men as their last breaths exited their convulsing bodies. I would fuck them as they died, coming as they spasmed into death. It was thrilling. An evil runs through me that you can’t even begin to imagine. Be happy that I want nothing to do with your little wars. Bringing me home would mean certain death for many immortals.”

  His hand ensnared hers, pulling it from his face. “Then why stop killing? If it was so pleasurable for you? Use that evil to kill Crimeous.”

  “An optimist?” she asked. “Wow. After all your wars, you still see the glass half full. Take me at my word when I tell you that I have no interest in helping immortals secure peace.”

  Disengaging from him, she walked toward the door. Pulling it open, she turned back. “Don’t follow me again. Forget you met me. If I see you again, I’ll kill you.” The door slammed behind her.

  Kenden turned to the desk, making sure she hadn’t absconded with anything important. It was all there.

  With a feeling of foreboding, he prepared to return home.

  Chapter 29

  Miranda stood on her balcony, watching the sun rise over the horizon. As yellow flirted with orange above the gentle curves of the mountains, she formulated her rebuilding plan. Once the golden orb of the sun was fully visible in the sky, she got to work.

  She commanded Larkin to round up all who had lost family in the Deamon attack. Once they were gathered in the large assembly hall of the main castle, she addressed them. With firm resolve, she promised them that she wouldn’t rest until Crimeous had been killed and the Deamons had been defeated. Although they were distraught, she asked for their continued support.

  Many approached her afterward and she spent several hours consoling them. Mothers who had lost children, husbands who had lost wives, sisters who had lost brothers. Although emotion swamped her, she knew she had to remain strong. She had shed her tears with Sathan last night. The time for weeping was over. The time to fight was upon them.

  That night she led Larkin and Aron to the cells that held her father’s supporters. She had no wish to kill them but couldn’t allow their dissidence. Addressing them in the darkness, she offered them the chance to help renovate the abandoned hospital that would house the Vampyre soldiers. They would have to wear ankle monitors while they worked and would have to live in the hospital alongside the Vampyres, but she would pay them, allowing them to support their families. It was better than rotting away in the dungeon.

  The majority of the men accepted. She secretly hoped that having them work and live alongside Vampyres each day would help soften their hatred. Only time would tell.

  Commanding Larkin to prepare the ankle monitors, she headed back to the royal office chamber with Aron.

  “You are doing very well, Miranda. Your offer to Marsias’ loyalists is smart. They will regain some dignity while living amongst their perceived enemies. Hopefully it will work.”

  “I hope so too.” Regarding him, she realized how lucky she was to have him as an ally. He was descended from one of the oldest Slayer families, his blood almost as pure as her own. A true aristocrat, his loyalty cemented her claim to the throne. Aron had become a great ally along with Larkin, who had shown exceptional leadership ability in Kenden’s absence.

  “The Vampyre troops should arrive soon. I will meet them with you at the wall, if you wish.”

  “Thank you, Aron. I accept.” She squeezed his hand and they began the trek to the wall.

  Once there, they opened the large wooden doors. Two-hundred troops stood in the open field, awaiting entry. Miranda’s heart longed to see Sathan, knowing he wouldn’t have come, but yearning just the same. Takel greeted the troops and led them to the abandoned hospital.

  Familiar with the conditions of war, the troops would survive without power and running water until it was restored, which Larkin informed her should take about a week. In the meantime, she ordered them to train.

  Each night would be consumed with sparring and fighting, preparing for her upcoming battle with Crimeous. She also stationed thirty of the Vampyres along the wall, ensuring that her people would be protected if the Deamons attacked. Being caught unaware again was not an option.

  Every few nights, Miranda would gather everyone together on the field that stretched between the main compound and the Vampyres’ quarters. Under the light of the moon, her staff would prepare a large meal of barbequed meat. She invited Slayer and Vampyre to join, hoping that they would begin to form a comradery, free from the hatred of the past.

  She was encouraged by what she observed. As the shared meals continued, more and more of her people attended. Eventually, she noticed her subjects warming toward the Vampyre soldiers. An offered seat at the table here, an offered drink from a bottle of wine there…a timid trust was beginning to form. Miranda was consumed with pride that her people were strong enough to slowly let go of their hatred. It was the only way they could forge forward into a world without war.

  One night, as the festivities wore down, she looked up at the waning moon and realized that six weeks had passed since the Deamons had attacked. Six weeks of living in relative harmony with the Vampyre soldiers. Hopefully it would continue, for the time to attack Crimeous grew near. In only a month’s time, she would be marching into the battle of her life.

  She was careful not to show fear to her people. It was important that they see her as strong. But at night, when she lay in the silent darkness, she felt so much apprehension at her upcoming battle. What if she wasn’t capable of defeating the Dark Lord? What would that mean for her people? Peace with the Vampyres was close but she would have to vanquish Crimeous’ evil in order to ever give her people true harmony.

  Aron’s voice shook her from her thoughts. “I think the barbeque has wound down, Miranda. Perhaps you should head inside.”

  Smiling, she nodded. “Do I look that tired?”

  He chuckled, the smile warming his handsome face. “I would never accuse my queen of looking tired.”

  “Good. Because I feel like I’m a million years old.” Grabbing his hand, she squeezed. “See ya tomorrow.”

  Proceeding to the castle, she acknowledged the soldiers stationed along her path and headed to her bedchamber. Once in her room, she opened the top drawer of her dresser. Removing the towel inside, she held it to her face, inhaling deeply.

  He had used it when he dried after their shower the last morning she’d seen him. Thankfully, the towel had retained a small bit of his musky scent. Like a heartsick sap, she pulled it into her nostrils, needing to have that one small part of him.

  From her pocket, her phone rang.

  “Speak of the devil,” she said into the device, holding it to her ear with her right hand, the towel in the other.

  “Were you thinking of me?” Sathan’s velvet voice asked, washing over her and causing her to shiver.

  “Never,” she said softly.

  “Liar.”

  She caressed the fabric of the towel with her fingers, wishing it was his skin. “I just returned from another joint dinner. My people are warming up to your soldiers. It’s so wonderful to see. I think we’re getting close, Sathan. Soon we can discuss joining the compounds under one kingdom.”

  “Slow down, Miranda,” he said, always the contemplative, patient one between the two of them. “We have eternity to forge peace. If we push too hard it could backfire. These things must happen naturally.”

  She scowled into the phone, hating that he was right. “I’m just ready. I want a better life for my people.”

  “I know. It will come. You’ve done a great job already. The shared barbeques were a brilliant idea. Let it happen. I promise it will.”

  She sat on the bed, pulling her knees to her chest as she still held the towel, rubbing it on her cheek. “Your soldiers are awesome. I feel ready to attack Crimeous. Only a few weeks to go.”

  The line
seemed to crackle as she waited for his response.

  “I wish I could attack with you. Latimus has forbidden it, convincing me that peace would never reign if both you and I were killed in the battle. Although he’s right, it’s frustrating. I should be by your side, fighting with you to defeat him.”

  “Latimus will be with me. And Takel, and Larkin and Kenden. I know he’ll be home soon. Along with a hundred of my soldiers and two-hundred of yours. I’ll be well-protected. I won’t fail. The ramifications are too vast.”

  “I know you won’t. I have faith in my little Slayer.”

  “Who says I’m yours?” she asked.

  “I do, you snarky little minx. You were mine every time I was inside you.”

  Dampness surged between her thighs and she squeezed them together. God, she missed him.

  “In your dreams, blood-sucker,” she said, smiling through the phone.

  His deep laugh vibrated though her. “Are you wet?” he asked silkily.

  “Not discussing this with you. Now if you’re done bothering me, I have shit to do before I go to sleep.”

  A pause stretched between them.

  “I miss you,” he finally said.

  Miranda’s heart pounded at his words. “Thanks,” she said, hating how lame she sounded. She just wasn’t ready to get all touchy-feely over the phone. “I have to go. I’ll call you if anything noteworthy happens.”

  “Okay. Good night.” The phone’s light died as he disconnected the call.

  Dropping her phone on the bed, she lay down and clutched the towel to her, inhaling his scent once again. Goddamnit, she was screwed. She was pretty sure she’d gone and fallen in love with a fucking Vampyre. Being that this was the first time she’d ever experienced love, she had no idea what it felt like. But it probably looked something like the sad picture she made clutching a dirty, used towel to her breast. Fucking great.

  With a loud, frustrated groan she threw the towel in her hamper, determined to wash it tomorrow. Resolved to stop acting like a lovelorn idiot. Entering the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and washed her face. Climbing into bed, she turned off the lamp on the nightstand and told herself to sleep.

  Not even ten minutes later she rose, pulled the towel from the hamper, and got back into bed. Cuddling it to her, she cursed herself a fool, and fell asleep to his scent.

  * * * *

  Sathan sat on his patch of grass by the thick elm tree. It was his place of solace, where he came to think. Sitting high atop a hill about three hundred feet from the castle, it gave him comfort to look down at upon his home. It was also where he always prayed to Etherya. He had pled to her for weeks now, asking her to appear to him, but to no avail.

  She had appeared to him only a handful of times over the centuries. Usually when he begged to her in the darkness, asking her why she had forsaken his people to no longer walk in the sun. On the rare occasions that she did appear, she mostly spoke in riddles, vexing him.

  Frustrated, he called her name, his voice loud in the quiet of night.

  Before him, a bright light appeared. Standing, he waited for the vision of her to form, wiping his damp palms on his black pants. The goddess was fickle and her moods were hard to read. She could vacillate between calm and anger in a matter of seconds. He vowed to be thoughtful as he spoke to her.

  “Your prayers have been forthcoming, Sathan, son of Markdor. Why do you wrest me from my sleep?”

  Her voice was shrill, shattering the peaceful quiet of the night. Her blood-red hair flowed in long curls from her scalp, almost reaching her feet. The white gown she wore glowed in the dimness.

  “My goddess Etherya,” he said, kneeling to her. “I am thankful for your presence.”

  “Rise, my king.” Her beady eyes washed over him, enveloped by the white skin of her face. “You have done well, Sathan. Peace between the Slayers and Vampyres grows. My heart is slowly healing.”

  “I have wished for peace for centuries. I’m glad it’s finally near. Hopefully you will let us walk in the sun again soon.”

  Floating above the grass, she said, “Not yet, my king. There will be much pain before the sun is to shine upon you again.”

  “What pain? For my family? For Miranda?”

  “You care about the Slayer princess. It is something I foresaw long ago. I had hoped you two would end the war. This is why I ensured that only your shared blood could free the Blade.”

  “You did that? I thought Valktor decreed the prophecy.”

  “Valktor was only a conduit. There is so much you don’t know. One day you will. For now, your fight is true and just. It is imperative that you succeed.”

  Sathan inhaled the fresh air of the meadow, wary to ask the favor of her. “My betrothed, Lila, wishes to end our engagement. She would like to take another path. I humbly ask you to bless the ending of our betrothal.”

  Silence stretched for several moments. “She is meant to be queen and bear your heirs.”

  “I still wish to have heirs but I will not force her to have mine. She must be allowed to choose her own fate.”

  “She loves another.”

  “Perhaps.”

  The goddess reached out her hand, the image watery. A rush of air crossed his face as she stroked him. “Done. I rescind the betrothal. What else do you ask?”

  He was surprised that she had capitulated so easily. The goddess’ decrees were rarely that uncomplicated. It unsettled something in him.

  “I plead with you to protect Miranda as she battles Crimeous. Her actions are just and she only wants peace. That won’t happen if she dies.”

  “And what will happen to you if she dies?”

  A jolt of fear rushed through him, as it always did when he thought of Miranda perishing. “I will go on. But claiming peace will be harder. I know that is a great wish of yours. For your people to be united once again.”

  “Her people see me as a false prophet, forsaking my protection. Why should I help her?”

  “You once loved the Slayers more than us. Give them time to come around. I will help them regain their faith in you.”

  The goddess floated, staring at him as he waited. “I will offer her my protection but it won’t help. She has unseen obstacles before her.”

  “What obstacles?” His heart pounded with dread.

  “That is only for her to discover. But I will watch over her, protecting her when I can. Good night, King Sathan. Be wary.”

  “Wait!” he called, wanting to know more. But his yell only echoed off the nearby tree. The goddess was gone. Her words filled him with a sense of foreboding. He must see Miranda and warn her.

  Jumping into the four-wheeler, he headed back to the main castle. Once there, he found Lila and informed her of the goddess’ willingness to end their betrothal. As she hugged him, he wished that she would find happiness with someone who could love her fully. She truly deserved that.

  Afterward he searched for Nolan, finding him in the infirmary. Arderin’s head was almost connected with his as they studied something through a microscope. His sister’s capacity for learning was vast and she had a curious mind. She spent many nights with the doctor learning all she could about medicine and science. Sathan wished that she were more interested in her role as a royal. Someone as bright as she would make a good governor or council member for one of their satellite compounds. Instead, she focused on medicine, wanting to train in the human world, frustrating him as he felt humans were inferior and not even close to worthy of having her in their world.

  “This is great, Nolan,” she said, both of them unaware he was there. “If the formula works as well on live tissue as it does in the lab, it could regenerate burnt skin.”

  “That it could,” the doctor said, smiling at her. “It would be a huge advance forward for any burn victim.”

  Sathan cleared his throat. “Nolan, I need to speak with you.”

  They both turned to look at him. “I want you to be on call over the next several weeks. The Slayer princess will
be fighting Crimeous and if she is hurt I want her helicoptered to you immediately.”

  “As you wish,” Nolan said with a nod. “Just have Heden make a pager for me that can be reached at all times.”

  “Will do.”

  “I might be able to help,” Arderin said. “During my capture I met a wonderful Slayer physician named Sadie. She was very knowledgeable and could partner with Nolan to help him, if the need arises.”

  “And she was friendly to you?” he asked, his tone wary.

  “Absolutely.” Black curls bounced as she nodded furiously. “She was amazing. I consider her a friend.”

  “A friend who held you captive. Wow, we really need to improve your social life, sis.”

  She scowled at him, obviously not finding his teasing funny. “You don’t understand anything. Whatever.” She shifted her gaze to Nolan. “If you need me to contact her, I will. Just let me know.”

  Shooting Sathan a look, she left the room.

  “You two were getting along so nicely,” Nolan said, his amber eyebrow arched. “You blew it.”

  “I always seem to. I think I should leave the joking to Heden,” Sathan said, running his hand through his hair. “Thanks, Nolan. I’ll make sure Heden gets the pager to you.”

  Later, after he had instructed his brother on the pager requirements, he decided that he would head to the Slayer compound at dusk the next day. He needed to get in front of Miranda and make sure she was extra cautious. He wouldn’t allow anything to happen to his little Slayer.

  Chapter 30

  Miranda sat at her father’s desk, exhaling after a long day. It was her desk now. Running her hand over the wood, she allowed herself to mourn him for a moment. Although they had been at odds for several of the past centuries, she loved him dearly and missed him terribly.

  Lifting her head, she watched Aron enter the chamber. His expression was one she had never seen. Was he nervous?

  “Hi Aron,” she said, walking around so that she faced him in front of her father’s desk. “Is everything okay?”

  His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “I hope so. I have something I need to discuss with you.”