Death of Darkness

by Dianne Duvall

  “None.”

  Releasing his hand, she reached up and drew him into a hug.

  Surprised, he closed his arms around her.

  “I am so sorry for your loss, Seth,” she murmured.

  “And I’m sorry for yours.”

  They held each other for several minutes before she released him and sat back against the cushions. “Tell me more about this balance. Help me to understand.”

  “Gifted ones and immortals must keep things on an even keel. They mustn’t ever gain too much power over humanity.”

  “I can sort of see why. I mean, with as many things as you can do, you alone could conquer the world and force humanity to do your bidding.”

  “Yes. So—though my brethren and I all possess special gifts—when we battle others, we must do it on their level. When we fight mercenaries, for example, we fight with weapons.”

  “Instead of using telekinesis to fling them around or teleportation to dump them all in the arctic?”

  He smiled. “Exactly. Sometimes our gifts do come into play. If the mortals greatly outnumber us in battle, we feel freer to use whatever gifts we must to even the odds. But we must never skew the odds too much in our favor. Such would disrupt the balance and—”

  “Bloodshed would follow.”

  “It always does.”

  She pondered that for a long moment.

  Seth anxiously awaited her response, worried that she wouldn’t be able to accept his need to keep certain secrets from her.

  “You’re telling me all this so I’ll understand how great a threat your enemy poses.” She shook her head. “I see what you mean when you say I couldn’t hold my own against him in a fight.”

  “Yes.” Withdrawing his hand, he gave hers a pat. “I’ll be back in a moment. I have to fetch something from my coat.” He sped over to the laundry room where she had hung up his coat. Opening it, he rifled through his inner pockets until he found the items Chris Reordon had given him earlier. He would’ve just teleported them into his hands, but that actually took more energy than teleporting himself would have, most likely because that wasn’t how that particular gift was supposed to work. It had taken him quite a while to learn to twist and warp it in such a way.

  He sped back to Leah’s side.

  She yelped at his sudden reappearance, then laughed. “Sorry. I know you said you were fast, but that still startled me.”

  He shook his head and held out the box. “Forgive me. This is for you.”

  She took it with a smile and studied it curiously. “This is one of those smartwatches that does everything but your laundry, right?”

  He laughed. “Yes. It’s also a voice-activated phone with my number programmed into it.”

  Her smile dimmed somewhat. “So I can call you in an emergency.”

  “Yes. If you wish to speak with me for any nonemergency reason”—he handed her a second box—“please use the number on this phone.”

  “I already have a phone.”

  “This one is secure. Yours isn’t.”

  She studied him somberly. “If I have a secure phone, why would I need the watch for emergencies?”

  “With the watch, all you have to do is say Call Seth and it will dial a number linked only to this phone.” He held up the third item he had retrieved—the phone Chris had programmed to receive emergency calls from Leah. “I will keep it on me at all times. No one else has the number. No one else can call it. So the moment it rings, I’ll know you’re in danger and will teleport instantly to your side.”

  “You think your enemy will come after me if you keep spending time with me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you show me a picture of him? If I knew what he looked like, maybe I could keep an eye out for him and—”

  “He can shape-shift.”

  She quieted.

  “And he can make himself look like me.”

  Her throat moved in a hard swallow. “Shit.”

  “Exactly.”

  “How will I know he’s not you?”

  “That’s what this is for.” He gave her his final offering, a tiny device exactly like the ones his Immortal Guardians and their Seconds carried with them. “Keep this on you at all times. And I mean all times, even if you have to tape it to your watch to ensure you don’t forget it. Whenever I draw near you, it will beep.”

  “You’re near me now and it isn’t beeping.”

  “It only beeps once. Watch.” He teleported a mile away, then teleported back. A beep sounded. “If you ever see me and don’t hear this beep, say Call Seth so I can come to you immediately.”

  “He can look that much like you?”

  “Yes. He fooled one of my brethren into believing he was me not long ago and nearly killed him.”

  “Crap. What does he look like when he doesn’t turn into your twin?”

  Rising, Seth shape-shifted into Gershom’s form, taking on every aspect of the Other’s normal appearance from his bare chest to his huge, dark, semitranslucent wings. He even teleported on a pair of black leather pants.

  Leah gaped up at him. “That’s what he looks like?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know I want to ask about the wings, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “But if I do, you can’t answer me.”

  “I’m sorry. I would if I could.” He shifted back into himself and his usual black T-shirt and cargo pants. “But I can’t.”

  Leah stared down at the electronic devices in her hands. “We’re just friends. You really think he poses a danger to me?”

  “Yes.” More so if Gershom suspected even for a moment that Seth was developing stronger feelings for her. “If you don’t wish to see me anymore, Leah, I understand. To reduce the risk to you, I can also ask Ami not to bring Adira to your store anymore. When I first learned of her connection to you, minor though it may be, I worried even that would endanger you.”

  After a moment, she shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Seth.”

  His heart sank. And the pain that cut through him—actual pain, not disappointment—left him unable to deny he wanted more than friendship with Leah. “It’s all right. I understand. I shall leave at once.” He rose.

  Setting the phone aside, she grabbed his forearm and tugged him back down next to her. “No. I mean I’m so sorry you have to deal with this, that you can’t even be friends with someone without worrying it will make them a target because some asshole is out to get you.”

  He mustered a weak smile. “I am, too.” He covered her hand on his arm. “But the danger is very real, Leah. You must take it seriously.”

  “I do. I will.” Removing the watch from the box, she strapped it to her wrist. A tiny sticky note clung to the band. Leah typed in the four-digit passcode written upon it, then said, “Call Seth.”

  Seth’s new phone rang.

  She nodded. “Okay. Looks like we’re set. I have you on verbal speed dial. And I promise I won’t use it to con you into bringing me ice cream.”

  He smiled. Reaching out, he brushed her hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

  She caught his hand as he lowered it and twined her fingers through his. “You seem both worried and relieved.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll never forgive myself if you’re harmed.”

  “Well, you’d damned well better,” she countered with a frown. “Because it will be your enemy’s fault, not yours, Seth. If something happens to me, place the blame where it belongs: on his sorry ass, not your hot one.”

  As usual, she made him smile. “You think my ass is hot?”

  “Hell yes,” she said without hesitation. “Now, why are you relieved? Did you think I wouldn’t want to see you anymore because you’re different?”

  “Yes,” he confessed.

  She tilted her head to one side. “I’m good with different.”

  His smile broadened. “So I noticed.”

  She winked. “And I want to finish watching Stranger Things with you.
Are you up for a couple of more episodes?”

  He regarded her with surprise. “Tonight?”

  “Sure.”

  “You don’t need time alone to think things over?”

  “No.”

  Damn, that was tempting, particularly since he no longer had to worry about revealing his true nature to her. “I can only stay for an episode or two, then I need to get back to work.”

  “Okay. You pop in the DVD while I get us some snacks.”

  Seth smiled as she headed into the kitchen. After everything he’d revealed to her, she still wanted to see him.

  Rising, he retrieved the Stranger Things DVD case… and hoped like hell Leah wouldn’t come to regret it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Crisp autumn leaves crunched beneath Seth’s boots as he strode through dense forest. Those that still clung to the trees around him bore brilliant gold, orange, and red coloring, though some stubbornly remained green. Branches clacked together as wind weaved its way through them, plucking more leaves from their perches and letting them float to the ground like feathers.

  The pink and peach hues of sunset gave way to gray as the sun disappeared over the horizon. The sky began to darken, revealing the moon’s bright glow. Night sounds arose, competing for Seth’s attention as he walked. Dusk-loving insects buzzed busily, as though they knew their time was limited. Frogs began to croak and peep and twang. Field mice scampered through the detritus, remaining out of sight and out of his path as the wings of predatory birds seeking a meal flapped above him.

  Three small, fluffy brown shapes darted across Seth’s path—rabbits out foraging for food. He smiled, remembering Leah’s delight when he had handed her the arctic hare.

  The trees thinned. Leaving the forest, Seth crossed what used to be a paved road. It had not seen regular traffic since the night they had lost Yuri and Stanislav two and a half years ago. It was a little amazing to witness the changes nature could manifest in so little time.

  He could spy no concrete. Weeds had staked their claim and completely overgrown the road, urged on by the nutrient-rich sediment a nearby river had deposited there when a hurricane had driven it to overflow its banks. The only hint one could find now that the lush vegetation hid an old thoroughfare was the long, straight stretch of land that bore a uniform width. But saplings had also rooted themselves in the new soil atop the pavement and would swiftly eradicate even that hint. So too would they hide the twisted remains of the chain-link fence that marked the border of the mercenary compound the Immortal Guardians had destroyed, if the kudzu vines didn’t accomplish it first.

  On the opposite side of the hidden road he traversed, the fence’s large gate folded outward in a permanent bow. Seth himself had tossed the grenades that had blown it open. More kudzu vines crept their way up and over it, seeming almost to pull it down closer to the ground. Seth passed between the two gates. Though the place shouted of neglect, he couldn’t help but notice that the NO TRESPASSING signs each gate bore remained clean and unobscured. There had been very few incidents of curiosity seekers nosing about since Chris Reordon had purchased the place, but network guards still monitored the compound via hidden surveillance cameras.

  Strolling onto the grounds, Seth eyed the remains of the buildings. Not much to see really. Dense vines worked determinedly to hide the scorch marks and jagged holes in the walls and ventured into broken windows to claim new territory.

  They were welcome to it. This place bore only painful memories for Seth.

  Yet he often felt compelled to visit it when troubled.

  His feet carried him to the center of a slab of blackened concrete where an armory had once stood. He wondered absently why nature hadn’t hidden this as it had so much of the rest. Did Chris Reordon keep the vines at bay?

  Such would not surprise him. Since guards monitored the place, Chris must know how often Seth visited. He probably sent a maintenance crew out once a month to cut back weeds and vines and keep it clear enough for Seth to find. Not that Seth needed any help with that. He had lost Yuri and Stanislav on this patch of pavement. He would know it even if ten feet of soil covered it.

  Sighing, he closed his eyes. Despite their efforts, the vampire population continued to grow. He had been working his ass off trying to locate Gershom, but that wily bastard continued to elude him. No matter where Seth had taken Ami, she had been unable to sense either Gershom or Tessa, and no vampires knew his whereabouts.

  Seth struggled to clear his mind, a task that seemed to grow more difficult by the day. He used to be able to accomplish such in seconds. Now it took many long minutes. Unless he was with Leah. She alone could make him forget for a time the heavy responsibilities he bore, the grief each new loss compounded, the anger and guilt that constantly pecked at him.

  No matter how dark his mood, she could make him laugh or smile with just a look.

  And heat his blood with the same.

  Shaking his head, he focused on Tessa. Though many Immortal Guardians were unaware, there were three things Seth always felt internally: the birth of a gifted one, the transformation of a gifted one into an immortal, and the death of an immortal. Once a gifted one was born, an intangible link formed between that infant and Seth. Should he ever wish to find him or her, he need only focus on that link and trace it back to them. But Gershom had somehow found a way to bury that link, or mute it, or perhaps sever it altogether.

  Frustration swam through Seth when he could find no trace of Tessa. He focused on the next missing gifted one-turned-immortal and again met with no success. He steadfastly continued, hoping he might at last stumble upon one that Gershom could not conceal as well. Or perhaps one who had escaped Gershom and sought freedom.

  Nothing.

  He sighed. Opening his eyes, he stared at the scorched pavement where the armory had once stood. Thoughts of Yuri bombarded him. Seth would never forgive himself for that loss. He had been so focused on finding the leaders of the mercenary group during that battle that he had neglected to watch over his immortals as assiduously as he usually did.

  Now Yuri’s spirit haunted David’s home.

  But Stanislav’s didn’t. It was one of the reasons Seth couldn’t quite bring himself to believe Stanislav was really gone, that he had died that day mere moments after Yuri. Yuri and Stanislav had been inseparable, as close as brothers. Seth had always stationed them together in the same city or town, knowing they were best friends and staved off each other’s loneliness. So it seemed odd to him that Stanislav would’ve crossed over and abandoned this plane of existence while Yuri remained.

  Wouldn’t he have at least said goodbye? To Yuri? To his Second, Alexei?

  Alexei had been devastated by Stanislav’s death. Every human Second was tasked with guarding his immortal’s back. Alexei believed he had failed that day. Like Seth, he blamed himself and didn’t want to accept that his friend was dead. Alexei even continued to carry his and Stanislav’s gear around in his car, though he thought no one knew it.

  How would either of them get past this?

  A field mouse scurried across one corner of the pavement.

  Was Seth’s inability to abandon hope making it harder for everyone else to come to grips with the loss? He knew Lisette still wept for Stanislav on occasion. Zach had told him as much… and had known without asking that Seth did, too.

  Sighing, Seth rubbed his gritty eyes. He was exhausted and had nothing to show for it. Tessa and the other new immortals were still missing. His Immortal Guardians were getting cut the hell up every night, fighting larger and larger packs of vampires that he was certain Gershom was throwing at them as a diversion.

  Seth knew that with everything going on he shouldn’t be spending time with Leah, but he couldn’t seem to find the strength to stay away from her. He took Adira and Michael on playdates with her and Aaron a couple of afternoons a week and sometimes even took them to storytime. Every once in a while, he teleported directly into her apartment after hours to park his ass on her sofa
and watch TV shows or movies with her. Or hang out and chat as they cooked dinner together. Or keep her company while she did inventory. Anything to snag a few minutes or even hours of what he’d been missing for so damned long.

  Every day he seemed to crave her company more. Her touch too, though she continued to keep things on a friendship level. Or perhaps he was the one who did? The idea of the latter made him want to kick his own ass, because damn, she made his body burn. But Seth had subverted his own needs for so long that it felt wrong to give in to them now. It felt… selfish. Decadent. And Seth didn’t do decadent. Too many lives depended upon him.

  Once more he shook his head and told himself to suck it up and mentally search for Stanislav. He’d saved Stan for last because every time he failed to find him, Seth felt the loss anew and hope diminished a little more.

  Closing his eyes, he quieted his thoughts and concentrated.

  He sucked in a sharp breath. For the first time in two and a half years, he felt something. It was weak… barely there… like the last slender tendril of smoke rising from a candle’s extinguished flame. But it was there.

  Seth’s heart began to pound as he focused harder. He definitely felt something. Greatly muted. Difficult to lock onto. A link to Stanislav’s spirit perhaps? Seth still felt a link to Yuri’s spirit on occasion. Had Stanislav not crossed over when he’d died?

  The link was so faint it took Seth several minutes to trace it to its source, some distance away right here in North Carolina. As soon as he did, he teleported to it.

  Bright light blinded him—headlights from an SUV parked haphazardly on a lawn. Another SUV was parked a few yards away, its lights trained on a small frame house to Seth’s left. Trees formed dense forest to his right. He heard several heartbeats but could see nothing because the damned high beams blinded him.

  Gunshots split the night, both automatic and semiautomatic, some silenced, some not. The strong scent of blood carried to him on the breeze.

  What the hell?

  “Seth!”

  Gasping, he spun around.

  His heart stopped as he stared in astonishment.

  Stanislav stood several yards away. Not his spirit but Stanislav. Alive and riddled with bullet wounds. Blood poured from the younger immortal’s mouth and down his chin. Wrapping his arms around an injured woman, he began to limp with her toward the back of the house.