Death of Darkness

by Dianne Duvall

  “Yes.” But he seemed reluctant to tell her.

  Carefully schooling her features into what she hoped was a blank mask that hid her shock, she gave his hand a squeeze. “Keep going. Tell me all of it.” Then she ruined it by frowning. “Wait. You’re telepathic?”

  “Yes.”

  Dread filled her. “You’ve been reading my thoughts all this time?” If he had, then he knew she had been mentally undressing him and weaving some wicked sexual fantasies about him ever since they’d met.

  “No,” he corrected hastily. “I haven’t read them at all. Not once. Unlike younger telepaths, I don’t hear other people’s thoughts unless I choose to. And I have never explored yours.”

  He’d know she wanted to be more than friends if he did. “You said younger telepaths. Do your gifts or powers strengthen as you get older or something?”

  He shook his head. “Gifted ones are born with special abilities because their DNA is more advanced and complex than that of ordinary humans.”

  “What?” Ben and her dad had advanced DNA? “Why?”

  “Gifted ones have existed since biblical times. But over thousands of years, as they procreated with ordinary humans, that DNA became diluted. A little more with each generation. Most gifted ones today are born with only one gift. And sometimes that gift is so weak they don’t even realize they possess it and mistake it for good instincts or the like.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “If gifted ones today usually only have one gift, why do you have so many? And why are yours so strong?”

  One corner of his lips turned up in a smile that conveyed sadness rather than amusement. “Because I’m older than I look.”

  Leah studied him. For the first time, she believed it. “How much older?”

  He seemed to brace himself before answering. “Thousands of years, I’m afraid.”

  Her heart began to slam against her rib cage. “That’s not possible.”

  “Yes, it is. My body has extraordinary regenerative capabilities.” Glancing at her coffee table, he reached over and picked up the pencil she had been using to do a crossword puzzle. “I’m sure there is a better way to show you this, but…” Tugging his hand from hers, he rested it on his knee, fingers splayed. Then he raised the hand with the pencil and drove the sharp point down with a hard thrust.

  Leah cried out as the pencil punctured the center of his hand. “Oh shit!” Tucking her feet up under her, she knelt on the cushion and gaped down at the damage. Only half the pencil was visible. So the rest of it must have gone straight through his hand and into his knee.

  Seth yanked the pencil out. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he set the bloody writing tool on the coffee table.

  “Are you fucking crazy?” she shouted and grabbed his hand. A hole mangled both sides of it. His pants now bore a similar hole in the knee. Trembling, she tucked his hand against her stomach and tried to wrap the base of her shirt around it to staunch the flow of blood.

  Seth had stabbed himself in the hand. He had stabbed himself in the hand! And the knee! She had to call 911. She had to—

  Seth held up his free hand. “Easy.” He spoke softly, evincing none of the anxiety that was freaking her the hell out. “It’s okay.” He nodded at his injured hand. “Look.”

  Leah looked down at the hand hidden by her shirt.

  “Forget about the blood and examine the wound.”

  Fingers shaking, she unwrapped his injured hand and did as he instructed. Her breath caught. The wound had already ceased bleeding. Her heart began to beat even faster as the edges of the ragged hole drew together and sealed shut, his hand healing on both sides. She glanced at his knee. Touching the hole in his pants, she reluctantly tucked a pinky finger inside. Though his skin was wet with blood, she could find no wound.

  “Holy crap,” she whispered. “How is that possible?”

  “My body can heal itself of any injury save decapitation. It remains, in fact, in a constant state of regeneration—even when I’m not injured—so…” One of his shoulders lifted and fell in a faint shrug. “I don’t age.”

  Leah struggled to process it all. “You’re thousands of years older than me?”

  “Yes.” And he looked as though he expected her to strike a blow. Not a physical one but an emotional one. By repudiating him, perhaps?

  As always, the need to put him at ease and see him smile overrode all else. “Well,” she said, striving for a normal tone of voice, “on the upside, apparently I’m not the one robbing the cradle here.”

  A startled laugh escaped him. “I suppose not.”

  Leah shook her head. She had worried about the age difference between them being too great when she had thought herself sixteen or eighteen years older than him. Now Seth was thousands of years older than her. “Why are you even here?” she blurted.

  His smile vanished as his brow furrowed. “I thought the decision to continue our friendship should be yours and that you should know more about me before you—”

  “No,” she interrupted. “I mean why are you here? With me? You’re thousands of years old, Seth. I must seem so young to you, like a child!” She was only twenty-one years older than Brittney, and sometimes Brittney seemed like a teenager to her.

  “Not at all,” he quickly assured her. “Ben is ten years younger than you. Does he seem like a child to you or an adult?”

  She hesitated. “An adult.”

  “Do you enjoy spending time with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you enjoy spending time with me when you thought I was thirty years old?”

  “Yes, damn it,” she grumbled. She had enjoyed it a lot. More than she had thought she should.

  “Then why would you think it any different for me?”

  She eyed him uncertainly.

  “You see the irony, don’t you?”

  She nodded. In the space of a few minutes, she had gone from believing she shouldn’t want to be with Seth because she was older than he was to believing he shouldn’t want to be with her because she was so much younger. But the wisdom he must have accrued during those millennia of living… She must seem embarrassingly ignorant by comparison. “I’m just so much younger than you,” she said, trying to reconcile it in her mind.

  His lips turned up in a wry smile as he squeezed her hand. “Everyone is much younger than me.” He frowned. “Well, except for David and a few others.”

  Her jaw dropped. “David is thousands of years old, too?”

  “Yes. I probably shouldn’t have told you that. That was his secret to share, not mine.”

  She fought to find order amid the chaos of her thoughts. Seth was thousands of years old and apparently he wasn’t the only one. How many of those he considered his brethren were as well? “So you don’t age, can teleport, are telekinetic, telepathic, empathic, precognitive, postcognitive—”

  “I’m afraid those last two aren’t my strongest talents anymore.”

  “You can heal any wounds you receive.”

  “And wounds on others. I can heal with my hands.”

  She clamped her lips shut.

  “What?”

  “You can heal with your hands?”

  “Yes.”

  “So if I were injured, you could heal me?”

  “Yes.”

  Leah eyed the bloody pencil on the coffee table.

  “Don’t you dare,” Seth commanded with a scowl. “I won’t let you injure yourself so you can watch me prove that particular talent. You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

  She sighed. “I probably wouldn’t have had the guts to do it anyway.”

  His expression lightened with what she thought was affection. Reclaiming her hand, he smoothed his thumb across the back of it. “I’m not so sure. You’re still sitting here with me after my revelations. That shows great courage.”

  She didn’t feel very courageous at the moment. More like shocked beyond belief. If she hadn’t grown up around Ben, her stepdad, and Gramps, she feared
she would have long since bolted for the door. “What else?”

  “I’m faster and stronger than ordinary men.”

  “How fast and how strong?”

  When he started to rise, she tightened her fingers around his. “No. You don’t have to show me. Just tell me. Your being close is sort of what’s keeping me grounded.”

  Nodding, he relaxed back beside her. “When I run at top speeds, I move so quickly the human eye just sees a faint blur of motion.”

  Un-befreaking-lievable. “So… you’re like the Flash?”

  “Yes.”

  That was actually pretty awesome. She would love to be that fast. She might actually be able to get in a solid eight hours of sleep a night if she were. “How strong are you?”

  “Strong enough to lift an eighteen-wheeler over my head as easily as you would that pencil.”

  She gaped.

  “I’m also strong enough to jump from street level to the top of a ten-story building.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  “If you tell me you can fly, too, I’m going to—”

  “I can fly, too.”

  She stared at him. Long minutes passed.

  “Leah?” He shifted, unease creeping into his expression. “Should I not have—?”

  She held up a finger to stop him. “First, you are so taking me flying once I wrap my mind around all of this.”

  There was no mistaking the relief that entered his handsome features.

  “Second… is that all of it?” she asked. “Is that everything you can do?” Because that was a hell of a lot.

  His face creased with sort of a half grimace she thought cute as hell. “Nnnnooo,” he admitted reluctantly. “I have other abilities, many of which I rarely use anymore. I thought it best, over the years, to focus on strengthening those that would aid me most in keeping my brethren safe. But there is one I’ve not mentioned yet because I fear it will throw you even more than the others.”

  “Seriously? More than teleportation, not aging, and being able to fly?”

  “Yes. I would be tempted not to mention it at all, but it’s one you need to be aware of in order to understand the true extent of the danger my enemy poses.” Judging by his expression, he feared it would be the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.

  “What is it?”

  He sighed. “I can shape-shift.”

  Leah blinked and tried very hard not to gape again. That was definitely a doozy. “Like a werewolf?”

  “Yes. But it’s entirely voluntary and has nothing to do with the moon. I can also shift into the shape of any living creature I wish to, not just that of a wolf, though the smaller the creature, the more difficult the task is. And I’m still me,” he hastened to assure her, “when I take an animal’s form. I don’t start thinking like an animal or anything like that.”

  She stared at him.

  “Leah?”

  “Yeah. You’re going to have to show me that one.”

  He released her hand. “Is there any animal in particular you’d like me to change into?”

  She shook her head. “Just… something that won’t make me pee my pants.”

  He laughed and seemed surprised that he could do so. “You are so damned appealing.” In the next instant, his form shifted, shrank, and sprouted fur.

  Leah gawked at the adorable, plump, fuzzy lion cub that now sat on its haunches beside her. “What?”

  Rising on all fours, it crept toward her. Slowly. Its brown eyes holding hers. Not making any quick movements. One of its big paws came to rest on her knee. When she didn’t protest, the cub crawled into her lap and leaned against her chest.

  Stunned, Leah wrapped her arms around the soft feline and cuddled it close.

  Seth could shape-shift.

  The cub began to purr as she stroked its soft fur, low rumbles she could feel like vibrations where it leaned against her. She drew a hand over its head, petting it as it peered up at her with orangish-brown eyes.

  “Are you sure you’re still in there?” she asked. She’d seen too many movies and read too many books in which shape-shifting men lost their humanity as soon as they changed forms and started behaving like wild animals.

  It rested a soft paw on her chest above her collarbone.

  Was that a yes? “Do something to prove you’re still you when you’re in this form.”

  The cub immediately withdrew its paw, ducked its head, and nuzzled her breasts.

  She laughed. “Flirt.” Leah hugged the cub to her. “Let me hold you a little longer while I gather my thoughts. It’s calming me.”

  The cub settled more comfortably in her lap and leaned against her, its head pillowed by her breasts. The rumbling purrs continued while she caressed it for several long minutes. She could see why doctors said people with pets tended to live longer. This was definitely soothing her and lowering her blood pressure as she tried to process everything she’d learned.

  Seth could shape-shift.

  He was right. That had thrown her more than anything else. Ben, her dad, and her grandfather might have all been born with special gifts, but those gifts hadn’t altered their physical appearance in any way.

  She glanced down at the cub. At least Seth was still Seth when he changed forms.

  She frowned as she continued to draw her hand down over the cub’s silky fur. “Wait. If you’re still you when you’re an animal, you won’t get turned on if I stroke you like this, will you? Because that would hit a little too high on my weird-o-meter.”

  Damned if the cub didn’t make a sound that came close to a chuckle as it ducked out of her hold and backed off her lap. A second later, it grew and shifted back into Seth’s form, clothes and all. The only difference she noticed was that his hair was now loose instead of drawn back with a tie.

  As soon as he regained his form, Seth laughed and shook his head. “No, it won’t turn me on. Though I confess I did enjoy nuzzling your lovely breasts.”

  “Flirt,” she accused once more with a grin.

  “Only with you.” As soon as he said it, he clamped his lips shut. Dismay shot through him, accompanied by several curses. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

  He heard Leah’s heartbeat increase. “It’s okay.” Instead of pressing him about the inadvertent admission, she motioned to his clothing. “What happens to your clothes when you shape-shift?”

  “I move them out of the way as I shift.”

  “I didn’t see you do that.”

  “Because by moving them out of the way, I meant I teleported them into a pile behind the sofa as I became the cub. Then I teleported them back onto my body when I resumed my ordinary form.”

  Leah motioned to his body with a wry smile. “I have news for you, Seth. This form is far from ordinary.”

  He grinned. The fact that she still found him attractive was a good thing, right?

  “So you can do that?” she asked. “You can send objects to other locations without accompanying them?”

  “Yes. I’m far more powerful than my younger brethren who can teleport. They can only teleport themselves and whomever they happen to be touching at the time. I can teleport objects that I’m not touching.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t do it at first but worked over many years to develop and strengthen the talent.”

  “To help you protect your brethren.”

  “Yes.” It had aided him many times in rapidly cleaning up battle scenes before humans could catch sight of them.

  Her brow furrowed. “If your enemy is as dangerous as you say, why don’t you just teleport him into a prison cell?”

  Sighing, he slumped back against the cushions and dragged a hand through his hair. “I wish it were that simple.”

  “Why isn’t it?”

  “Because I have come to believe that he may match me in strength and power.”

  “He can do all the things you can do?”

  “Many of them, yes.”

  “So he could just
teleport out of the cell.”

  “Yes. But there is more to it than that.” How could he explain it? “There are eleven more ancients like myself who—to hide the source of their age and power—call themselves Others. And we’ve all lived long enough and seen enough to understand that a delicate balance must be maintained in the world at all times.”

  “What kind of balance?”

  “The kind that—when irrevocably altered in the past—resulted in utter devastation.”

  “And by utter devastation, you mean…?”

  “Humanity almost didn’t survive it.” He shook his head. “The events that unfolded when that balance was shattered were so horrific that they’ve been edited out of some religious scripture.”

  “Then how do you know about it?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.” Regret filled him. He now knew how Zach felt. There were things about his past and his very existence that Zach had been unable to share with Lisette because he couldn’t risk one of the other telepaths plucking the information from her thoughts. Seth didn’t like having to hold anything back from Leah either. If he was going to share his world with her, he wanted to share it all with her. But he couldn’t.

  Leah’s brow furrowed as she bit her lip. “Because you don’t trust me?”

  Shaking his head, he reclaimed her hand. “Because I don’t trust those around you.”

  “I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

  “I vowed long ago that I would never expose all my secrets again. Doing so always results in bloodshed.”

  Her fingers tightened around his. “Is that how you lost your wife and children? Did someone learn your secrets?”

  It didn’t surprise him that she had drawn the correct conclusion. “Yes.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Before the Great Pyramids were built.”

  Her lips parted. “That was thousands of years ago.”

  “Yes.” And the pain of those losses had not diminished over the years.

  “Did you remarry?”

  He shook his head. “There have been no women in my life since then.”

  Her throat moved in a swallow. “So you’ve been alone all this time?”

  “I’ve had my brethren.”

  “But no lovers?”