“I’m sorry. I can’t.” Fear broke Roken’s voice into a whisper as he took a step backwards.
“We don’t know what books you want, Roke. Just come to the doorway,” Arlo encouraged. “I’ll go on and get the room lit up for you.”
Roken watched Arlo walk ahead with their torch as his view of the corridor dwindled into darkness, the only light now framed the dungeon doorway.
“I get it, Roke. I do.” Oscar had his own reasons to fear the small room at the end, but he had fought through it each time he’d brought a box down. He wouldn’t let his hatred of the room control him. “How about I go ahead, so you don’t feel trapped?”
Roken stood frozen in his place as Oscar squeezed past and walked briskly to the room at the end of the hall. It should have been that easy for Roken to follow. He wanted to, but he just couldn’t.
Arlo looked at all the boxes of books in horror. He hadn’t realised they had so many. “what are we looking for Roke?”
“I’ve been trying to work out what she could be by looking at what we know about her, but we need to look at what she could be based on what she does to us,” Roken called from the passageway. The tremor in his voice made Arlo certain that was as close as he was going to get. “We need to look at what creature has a draining effect on shifters.”
“Ok, that didn’t make much sense, but we’re looking for books on shifters?”
“Yes,” Roken replied.
“Come on, can’t you just come to the doorway?” Arlo was keen to have Roken in the room with them. It would be so much easier if he could just hold up the books for Roken to choose.
“I-er...” Roken squinted and took a hesitant step forward as Arlo swung the torch into the passage.
“Roke, I get that you had a hard time down here, but this is stupid.” Arlo turned to face the nervous shifter. “How can you forgive the man but not the place?”
Roken shrugged. “Because the man has been nice to me, but the room hasn't?” It wasn’t that simple, but somehow it was exactly that. Roken’s relationship with Seb had grown after his freedom had been granted. Forgiveness had been earnt, and past hurts had been addressed, but the dungeon remained unchanged from the day he entered.
“Arlo, relax. Let's not do this now. We just get what we came for and leave.” Oscar agreed with Roken. He had his own reasons, but the dungeon freaked him out too, so he turned to Roken and smiled. “Why don’t you go make us a coffee. We know what we’re looking for now.”
There was a moment of indecision, when the conflict between staying and going was visible on Roken’s face and in his tightly clenched fists, but finally he nodded and left.
“He has no reason to be afraid of an empty room,” Arlo huffed.
“You have no idea what he went through down here,” Oscar growled. “He was down here for decades.”
“I'm sorry,” Arlo sighed. “I get it. I really do, but the whole thing gives me the creeps, and his nervousness was making me nervous.”
He had no idea what books Roken wanted. They’d been thrown in boxes haphazard and out of order. It would probably be easier if he just took all the boxes back up into the dining room. What had started as a good idea, searching the books under the guise of decorating an unused room, had led to a major upheaval of what were now their most important possessions. They had never needed much of anything as much as they needed the books now that they were inaccessible.
There was something creepy about the dungeon. Maybe it was just the lock on the door or the rings in the walls where the chains that had once held Roken now hung lifelessly. It was cold and had no natural lighting, just a bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling near the door. Arlo sat back and tried to picture what it would be like to be locked in for even a week. The first few days would be the hardest, when he was fresh, strong and warm, but he could imagine it would wear him down quickly. How many days until he gave up trying? A week? A month? A decade? Arlo wondered how long had Roken been in the basement? His best guess was 30 years, and he knew it was fairly close.
The door to the basement opened disrupting his wonderings, and Roken’s scent entered, mixed with the aroma of coffee and sugar.
“I've brought you coffee,” Roken said and walked with more focus, not stopping until he reached the dungeon door. It was like an invisible barrier just stopped Roken in his tracks. They didn't know everything that had happened to Roken in the dungeon, but even after more than fifty years, it still haunted him.
Roken had been feral when Seb first dragged him off the battlefield almost 100 years ago. Shifting into a human form had been new to Roken, something he’d been unaware of before he had done it, and Seb described him as a wild animal, unable to speak or think like a person. Even when Seb had finally let go of his need for revenge, it had taken time for the pair to move on.
Seb had spent a long time building a bond with Roken, soothing his fear and taming his mind. Then he had started educating him. He taught him to talk, to read and to dress. It had taken years, almost like training him from a baby, but before long, Roken had mastered the basics. Arlo hadn’t been privy to how Seb had achieved the transformation, but he had managed it, and while Roken didn't have as much life experience as the others, it was less obvious now.
“Thanks, Roken,” Arlo called. It took a lot of strength for him to come back alone with the hot drinks for them. Just standing by the open door was an achievement for the shifter, and Arlo understood that, but it would be more helpful if Roken were guiding them through the books they needed instead of them guessing.
“Is this what you're after?” Oscar picked up the box they had short-listed and handed it to Roken, swapping the box for the mugs of coffee.
“Thanks,” Roken said, taking the box and backing away. “I'll have a look through them upstairs.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
H eather made a mug of coffee and walked off in search of Roken. She was always making coffee, but it seemed the best way to get herself invited in wherever Roken was. When she found him, he was in the study, sitting in a large chair surrounded by the very old books they had taken from the library the day before.
“I brought you a coffee,” she announced her arrival in the room with confidence and placed the mug on the small table that stood beside him.
“Thanks,” he said as glanced up at her, closing the book when he realised she wasn't leaving.
Heather paused, feeling more awkward than she had expected, but Roken pointed to the vacant chair opposite him, and she quickly sat. They were alone. This was her chance to get answers but asking about his genocidal past was not something she could easily do.
“So how did you guys meet?” she asked nervously.
He tilted his head as looked at her, like he didn't believe her. Ok, so she had asked everyone else the same question, but she really wanted to know his side.
“Exactly as the others told you we met.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “Ask me what you want to know.”
“I want to know your story,” Heather confessed. Anything less than the truth from her and she wouldn't get any more from him. “The others all said you killed people.” The hurt she felt must have shown in her eyes, because he reached over and placed his hand on hers.
“It was a different world back then. Three hundred years ago, people did kill. People walked around with swords so that they could. The important ones, that is. The rest, no one cared about. Dying back then was just one less mouth to feed.”
“But Seb did nothing to you, all those people did nothing to deserve it.” The hurt in her eyes became tears. Did he really not care?
“You're looking at this from a human point of view,” Roken said, withdrawing from her. “Should have guessed they'd make me out as a monster.”
“No, they didn't.” Heather reached to take his hand back. “Which made me curious about you.”
“Everyone I killed was a vampire. Use your human point of view now. I didn't hunt individual vampires, I hunted those who ga
thered together in huge numbers. Those whose numbers had a significant impact on the surrounding human population.”
It sounded totally different when he said it. He believed the killing of vampires was right and just. She had to agree with him. In those circumstances, it had to be ok. When Oscar and Arlo told their story, Roken had been sent to kill the vampires fighting on the other side of a great war that involved the whole world. And Seb was a vampire. Seb's tale of death and destruction, was just freeing the local humans from a dominating threat of vampires in Roken’s eyes.
“I remember attacking Seb's castle. I entered the courtyard and waited. I killed every vampire that came to me. I did not enter the castle. I did not search for them. Those who did not come to fight me, did not die that day.” Roken sighed, his eyes alive with the memory. “Of course, leaving him alive that day, Seb then hunted me, endlessly.”
Heather felt confused and conflicted. How was she supposed to feel about Roken being a vampire killer? Her human nature had to agree with him. After all, vampires hunted humans. But the fact three of her housemates were vampires added a bit of guilt to her perspective.
Roken grinned at her. “It’s ok, it must seem confusing. The world has changed a lot since those days. Vampires don't seem to gather together in such numbers anymore, and the world has put a value on every life. Whatever species they are.” Roken seemed to imply that his opinions had changed, though he offered no apology for his past actions. He wasn’t sorry for his past, but he had moved on. He was very different now.
Roken wasn’t the only one that had changed. Somewhere above them, in his room, Seb was immersed in similar thoughts. He sat alone on his bed thinking about the vampire he had once been, back before he had lost the love of his life. He’d forgiven Roken a long time ago, but it hadn’t brought him any peace. Something had changed now. Something he’d been missing for three hundred years. Love.
He felt happy and alive now. Heather made him feel alive. He knew she was downstairs with the other men she had taken as her lovers while he sat alone on the bed where he had enjoyed her body so much. But it didn’t bother him. She was his. She was theirs.
He had been conflicted at first, but as soon as their lips met, the guilt vanished. He couldn't explain exactly how he felt, but if Dharla had been a guardian angel watching over him, he would have said she approved. An invisible weight had been lifted from him, a weight he didn't even know he carried until it was gone. Had it been guilt? Grief? He didn't know, and he didn't care. He just knew it was gone, and he was happy.
Eventually he gathered himself up and headed downstairs. They still had a lot of decorating to do in order to brighten up the house for Heather, but the idea of decorating seemed like less of a burden now. He would do anything for Heather.
At the bottom of the stairs, he stole a glance into the study. Heather and Roken sat opposite each other. They were leaning forward, holding hands and talking. He didn't hear what they were saying. He didn't want to. The moment seemed intimate, and he suddenly felt jealous. Jealous of Roken? No, it wasn't that. He wasn't envious of Roken's closeness to Heather, or Heather with Roken. It was the pair of them. He wanted to be there with them, sharing the closeness, the contact. He wanted it with both of them.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
D ecorating. Again. But attitudes had changed. Everyone seemed happier. Someone was even humming. It was annoying and repetitive, but no one said anything. Mainly because they thought it was Heather humming. Seb no longer felt like he was tolerating his friends’ company but was now enjoying it.
Heather was proudly telling Seb about internet shopping, and he seemed very interested to learn how everything he’d ever want to buy could simply turn up on his doorstop. Technology had progressed in leaps and bounds in the last couple decades. It was a mere heartbeat in his long life, but he’d blinked and missed it. Now it seemed so advanced and complicated, he’d never seen the point in trying to catch up with the world.
“Let's go and buy a computer then,” Seb said decidedly, smiling at Heather in a way his three companions had never seen before.
“Everyone?” Roken muttered.
Seb opened his mouth to answer, but Heather beat him to it.
“Yes, if you want.”
Oscar bit his lip and held his breath. Seb wasn't going to like that. He didn't let Roken out save for their regular trips to the nightclub to find blood donors. And Roken spent most of those evenings drinking in the corner anyway.
“All of us?” Seb muttered dryly.
Oscar glanced at Roken, hoping he would volunteer to stay to avoid any conflict, but he didn’t. He seemed as interested as Oscar in the situation, so they chose to just sit and watch what happened between the alpha and the woman.
In the end, Seb was the one to back down. “Fine, we can all go.” It was the only solution really. There was no way Seb could justify preventing Roken from shopping with them without revealing more to Heather than he was willing. He did give Roken a look that said ‘don’t mess this up’ more than words ever could, but Roken just smiled, like he had won some kind of victory without any action on his own part.
“Fine, let’s go,” Seb said, turning and walking from the room.
Heather turned to Oscar, a questioning look in her eyes. She had no idea she had just unseated the alpha in front of the group, no idea about the fragile balance of power between Seb and Roken. All he could do was give her a comforting smile and hope she voiced her confusion with someone else. Anyone but Roken.
Roken still had that puppy dog look in his eyes as they walked out of the house. He and Seb could feel their ears pop as they passed through the wall of spells protecting the house. It was an odd feeling, but it didn’t last long with a simultaneous tugging on both ears. Seb was less obvious, resolving the issue with several deliberate swallows. He made a beeline for Roken as they turned down the street. Walking beside him as if he had a supervisory role over the other man, they left the others trailing behind.
Heather could still feel the tension caused by her suggestion to go out. It was something she still didn’t understand but somehow knew not to question. Whatever it was would pass easier if it could just be forgotten, so she stayed between Arlo and Oscar, slipping her arms through theirs for the short walk to the shops.
Once they arrived, Roken’s excitement was short-lived. Shopping wasn't what Roken thought it would be. A big square box filled with hoovers, televisions, and various other things that didn’t interest him here anymore than they did in the kitchen at home. There were people, and he enjoyed his people watching. But it was clear that none of these people wanted to be there, not even the ones identified as staff. At least the people in the club wanted to be there.
“Great here, isn’t it!” Arlo observed, stepping up next to him.
Roken just shrugged. He wouldn’t use the word great. It was dull and he was bored. He would have probably enjoyed staying at home and watching the paint dry more than he was enjoying this, so his tiny victory over Seb was pointless. It would be short lived too. Seb had his own special way of ensuring his group dominance over Roken. For the moment though, Seb was standing with Heather and a sales assistant, nodding like he had some kind of clue about the thing he was being shown. Heather’s nod was a bit more meaningful, she at least understood some of what the man was saying.
Finally, what felt like an eternity later, the trio had come to an agreement. “Right, we’re done,” Seb called, delaying slightly while Heather walked with the sales guy to the till.
For the length of time it took to choose, their purchase didn’t come in a very big box, but soon Seb had paid and they were leaving.
“Was that fun?” Heather chose to walk beside Roken, her arm slipping through his.
“It was supposed to be fun?” Roken muttered. “At least I know I won't be missing much next time Seb says to stay at home.” He knew he should have been grateful to her for getting him out of the house, and when Heather didn't reply, he thought he'd offe
nded her. Until he realised she wasn’t listening to him. Instead, she was staring vacantly at a restaurant with a red and white sign.
“You hungry?” he questioned.
“I recognise that place.” Heather voice was flat, like her mind wasn’t really focused on him. “And not just knowing what things are. I remember that place. I’ve been there before.”
“Do you want to go there now?” Roken smiled. Restaurant. Now that would make his little trip out much more exciting.
It was great Heather remembered something. Perfect that it was somewhere where they could get food. Of course, Seb was being ultra-suspicious since Heather mentioned the hint of a memory, so their table location gave them a good view of the kitchen door, and each time the serving staff went in and out, Seb pricked up like a bunny getting a whiff of Arlo when he shifted. But so far, the service had been good enough. A young woman had shown them to a round table surrounded by a curved high-backed bench seat. She’d taken their drink orders—just soft drinks—and returned promptly.
Roken's first sip of a diet coke was quite amusing, he hadn't been expecting the fizz, and he'd practically snorted it all over Heather and Seb. Arlo found it a struggle to keep a straight face. It was worth it though. The waitress who brought them extra serviettes gave Heather a double take. The waitress had seen her before.
“May I take your orders?” It was a different woman serving them for their meals, but she too gave Heather a long look. It was like she knew her face but couldn’t place the where and why.
“Could I have the mixed grill?” Seb ordered.
“Steak, please,” Roken muttered, holding up the menu to check his order as he placed it.
“How’d you like your steak cooked?”
“Not much,” he replied.
“Rare, then,” she concluded with a smile, turning next to Heather.
“I think I’d like the Hunter’s Chicken?” Heather shrugged. This ordering experience was as new to her as it was to Roken, and she felt very self-conscious, especially with the strange look the server had given her.
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