Death of Darkness

by Dianne Duvall

  Seth sighed. “You owe me nothing. None of you do. I just want you all to be happy.”

  “It isn’t a matter of obligation. We want you to be happy, too. We want you to have—for however long you can—what we have found. And we’ll do everything we can to ensure you will, even if it pisses you off.”

  Seth rubbed his tired eyes. “Now you sound like Reordon.”

  “Chris is a good man. One who worries about you.” Zach smiled. “He showed me the surveillance video of you and Leah dancing together.”

  Seth shook his head. Who hadn’t seen that video? “And?”

  “Once I picked my jaw up off the floor, I began to hope every day that you would stop fighting your feelings for her.” He shook his head. “I’ve only seen you like that with one other woman, Seth.”

  “My wife.”

  “I didn’t understand it then, why you would risk so much to be with her.”

  Seth snorted. “I know you didn’t. You and the Others kept trying to capture me and force me back into the fold.”

  Zach’s lips twitched. “Well, I understand it now. I would risk anything to be with Lisette. And did. I won’t let Gershom deprive you of Leah. I will do everything in my power—when you’re not draining it, that is—to keep her safe.”

  Seth forced a laugh. “Thank you.”

  Quiet fell once more as Seth’s mind involuntarily dragged him through possible future scenarios. “You know what will happen if Gershom kills her,” he murmured.

  Zach remained silent.

  “You know what happened the first time.” He had been in the city when that atrocity had taken place, far from their home in the country. A man had come to him, begging him to heal his dying child. And Seth had gone, of course.

  The child had been moments from death, suffering dreadfully, when Seth arrived. Tears had streaked his pinched little face and stark fear had filled his eyes when Seth knelt beside him. The only gift Seth had revealed to humans at the time was his ability to heal with his hands. Some feared him for it, much as they had Alyssa of Westcott thousands of years later. Some reviled him for not letting them exploit his gift for their own gain. And some regarded him with awe.

  Seth assumed this child feared him because of the ugly rumors he’d heard about the source of his gifts. And as he healed the boy, Seth delved into his thoughts to see what rumors had filled his young ears so he could discover who was spreading them. Instead, he made the shocking discovery that the boy’s father had poisoned him.

  A blade drove into Seth’s back and burst from his chest.

  “Abomination!” the boy’s father shouted.

  Roaring in fury and pain, Seth lunged to his feet. Healthy once more, the poor boy scuttled away and cowered in a corner. Using telekinesis, Seth yanked the sword from his back and deposited it in his own hand as he spun to face the father.

  Men with swords flooded the domicile. Seth again used telekinesis to thrust the men away from him and strode outside so he could fight them without endangering the child.

  Sunshine barely had time to brush his hair before more pain pierced him, stealing his breath. Unbelievable agony swept through him. It felt as though a thousand daggers had all struck him at once. Driven to his knees, he glanced down, found no new injuries, and struggled to understand what was happening.

  Then his daughter screamed in his head.

  Terror gripped him as he looked up at the boy’s father. “What have you done?”

  “What we had to,” the man snarled, his face a mask of hatred and triumph.

  Damning the consequences, Seth teleported to his home. Dozens of men clustered in a circle in front of it. All shouted as they stared at something on the ground. The pain suffusing Seth began to fade as he shoved his way through the throng and stared down in horror. His wife lay in the dirt, one hand clutching a sword, the fingers of the other curled into claws as though she had been trying to pull herself across the grass to their son and daughter.

  The heart inside her body did not beat. A dagger had stopped it, the hilt still protruding from her chest. Their son and daughter lay nearby, their dark brown eyes frozen open in death. His daughter’s face…

  Seth would never forget the pain it portrayed, the tears that streaked her cheeks. Nor would he forget the way her hand had been stretching toward his wife’s, her mother’s, in a desperate attempt to reach her. His son-in-law lay at her feet, swords still in his hands. He had died trying to protect her but had been overwhelmed by sheer numbers and the incredible swiftness with which these men had struck. His daughter-in-law, whom he had loved as if his wife had born her, lay crumpled on the ground several yards away, his son at her feet. He, too, clutched weapons.

  All were dead. The lifeless bodies of several of their attackers littered the ground around them.

  Seth bellowed his grief, his fury, and sank to his knees beside his wife and children. He tried to gather them all into his arms, tried futilely to heal them, to bring them back. But his healing gift did not extend to resurrection.

  The ground shook violently with an earthquake so strong that the murderers who still stood stumbled into each other and nearly fell. Several men rushed him while he knelt there, his wife and daughter in his arms, his hand clutching his son’s shirt, sobs wrenching from his chest.

  Swords swung toward him.

  Seth threw back his head and roared as power exploded outward from him.

  Every blade fell to the ground. Screams of agony erupted as everyone in his sight save his family began to burn from the inside out, their skin first brightening with the color of flames, then blackening and turning to ash. When they threw back their heads and opened their mouths to beg for mercy, flames emerged instead of words.

  Rage took control of Seth, burning brightly and searing his insides. He gently laid his loved ones on the ground, then rose. Swords—nearly six feet in length—appeared in his hands as he strode toward the city.

  To this day, he didn’t know how many he had slain, how much had burned before David had found him and summoned Zach and the Others to put an end to it. As Seth had confessed to Leah, he hadn’t stopped at killing those responsible for the death of his family. He had killed everyone who had harbored hatred in his or her heart. Everyone who had delighted in treating his children like shit because they were different. Everyone who had launched ugly rumors about them, fueling the hatred that had resulted in the day’s tragedy. Everyone who had wished him and his family malice, though they had done nothing to deserve it.

  “I’m so much stronger than I was then,” he told Zach now. “I fear you won’t be able to rein me in if…”

  “History will not repeat itself, Seth.”

  He shook his head. History always seemed to repeat itself. “If Gershom kills Leah, Ami, or Adira, I fear I will become his ultimate weapon. I fear I will succeed where he has failed in launching Armageddon.”

  “I won’t let that happen,” Zach vowed earnestly.

  Seth hoped with all his heart that Zach was right.

  Seth! Aidan suddenly shouted in his head.

  Seth straightened. Yes?

  We’ve found two more of the missing immortals.

  Eyes widening, he leapt to his feet.

  “What is it?” Zach asked, alarmed.

  “Aidan found two of the missing immortals.” He teleported away without another word.

  Chapter Twenty

  Aidan exchanged a concerned look with Bastien as the two of them escorted Cliff through the quiet college campus. Most students had long since sought their beds. A few who had either been up late partying or cramming for exams stumbled their weary way back to the dorms.

  Cliff walked between Aidan and Bastien, his movements stiff and precise as though he feared if he made a single misstep he would erupt into violence and slay everyone he encountered. A peek into his thoughts revealed a maelstrom of voices urging him on. It was taking every ounce of Cliff’s strength to refuse them and fight the sickening desires they incited.
r />   Aidan kept a hand on Cliff’s shoulder, infusing him with calm. But it barely made a difference. “How would you like to sit in sunlight for a while, Cliff?” he asked. It had worked well to silence the voices in the past.

  A sound reached his ears.

  Too late.

  “Vampires,” Cliff growled in a very un-Cliff-like voice. Shrugging off Aidan’s touch, he drew his swords and swung them in arcs and circles as he picked up his pace. A dark smile turned up the corners of his lips. His eyes began to glow bright amber.

  A dozen vampires came around the corner of a building up ahead.

  Chris, Aidan called telepathically to Reordon and strained to pick up the human’s thoughts. Even for a telepath as old as he was, such a feat was difficult.

  Stay the hell out of my head, telepath.

  Cliff is about to launch a bloodbath at UNC Chapel Hill. I see at least two surveillance cameras, and I don’t think I’ll be able to restrain him long enough to get him and the vampires he intends to slaughter to—

  Cliff shot forward.

  Ah hell, just get a cleaning crew over here now and have your tech guys get ready to silence whatever shows up on the internet. Without waiting for a response, Aidan raced after Cliff.

  Cliff cared nothing about being outnumbered a dozen to one. Such odds didn’t even make him hesitate. He just tore into the vampires.

  Some of the vamps were well groomed, their clothing neat and clean. Both indicated they had only recently transformed. Good hygiene tended to fall by the wayside once the madness struck. Cliff was a rare exception.

  The rest of the vampires were older, judging by their slovenly appearance and the insanity housed in their glowing eyes. Aidan didn’t attempt to slay any of them. He merely guarded Cliff’s back and fended off any blows directed at himself. Bastien did the same, leaving the killing for Cliff in hopes of silencing the voices.

  Aidan’s heart sank as he watched. Slaying vampires quickly and cleanly used to bring an end to the violent impulses that plagued Cliff. Simple strikes that would end their lives in less than a minute. Then Cliff had begun to prolong the battles, letting the vampires tire themselves out before he killed them. Now…

  Now he ripped them to shreds. And smiled while he did it. There was no denying the madness that glinted in his amber eyes as he slew them.

  One by one he took down his opponents, who fought fiercely but could not compete with the strength madness lent Cliff nor the skills Bastien had taught him. Soon only two vampires remained, one tall, one short. Both were pretty damned proficient with the short swords they wielded.

  Light reflected off Cliff’s blades as he swung them with a flourish and sliced open the shorter vampire’s cheek from ear to chin. He nicked the vamp’s arm—once, twice—then cut it deeply. The vampire cried out and dropped his sword. Stumbling back a step, he tripped over one of his fallen companions and hit the ground. As Cliff moved in for the kill, the vamp rolled away and lunged to his feet. His baseball cap fell off as he drew a dagger and spun to face Cliff.

  Cliff smiled wickedly and raised a sword, preparing to strike a killing blow.

  “No!” Bastien shouted. Lunging forward, he halted Cliff’s sword with his own.

  Aidan stared past him. Long auburn hair tumbled down around the vampire’s shoulders as she braced herself to meet the blow. “Shite,” he whispered.

  When her gaze strayed to Aidan, her face paled.

  Cliff glared at Bastien and pushed back against his friend’s sword with a snarl.

  “Cliff, stop!” Bastien nearly shouted and nodded behind him. “Look.”

  Cliff did as ordered… and froze.

  Blood welled in the deep gash on the woman’s face and spilled down her neck. More saturated the torn sleeve of her jacket.

  The male vampire lunged forward, intending to strike Cliff while he was distracted.

  Aidan threw out a hand and telekinetically plucked the vampire’s weapons from his hands, then stole the woman’s dagger as well.

  Both gaped.

  Cliff looked from the woman to Bastien blocking his sword, then back to the woman. Horror dawned on his features. Staggering backward, he dropped his weapons.

  “Cliff…” Bastien spoke gently.

  Cliff didn’t seem to hear him as he looked down at the blood on his hands, then fastened wide eyes on the female.

  “Cliff,” Bastien repeated, stepping forward.

  He shook his head. “Bastien?” His voice was thick with self-loathing. Tears welled in his glowing eyes. “What did I do?”

  “Nothing,” Bastien replied in the same soothing tone.

  But Cliff shook his head. “Did I have another break?”

  “No.” Bastien slowly walked toward him as Cliff continued to back away. “We were out hunting. We came across some vampires. You did nothing wrong.”

  The lone male vampire left standing snorted. “Nothing wrong? Look around you! He tore these men apart and damned near killed—”

  Aidan darted forward and fisted a hand in the man’s shirt. “Shut the fuck up while we handle this,” he growled.

  The man shoved Aidan away and bent in a blur to grab another weapon.

  Aidan telekinetically yanked the weapon from his hands.

  The man and woman exchanged an alarmed look, then took a step backward.

  Now that he wasn’t so focused on Cliff, Aidan recognized them both—the woman and the man—as two of Gershom’s immortals.

  Thrusting a hand out toward them, he once more employed his telekinetic ability and froze them in place.

  They gasped.

  The woman struggled briefly, her glowing amber gaze fastened on Aidan.

  Aidan delved into her thoughts and swore. She thought him the man who had kidnapped her before Gershom had rescued her.

  Well, he couldn’t worry about that right now.

  He glanced over his shoulder.

  Still shaking his head, Cliff pointed to the woman. “I did that?” His crimson-coated hand shook violently. “I did that, didn’t I? I hurt her. I would’ve killed her if you hadn’t stopped me!”

  The woman exchanged a confused look with the man.

  The man scowled. “What the hell is wrong with him? Is he insane or something?”

  Aidan got up in the man’s face and glared. “I know Gershom has been fucking with your head and filling it with lies, but show some bloody compassion. Cliff isn’t an immortal. He’s a vampire.”

  “Bullshit,” the male spat out. “Immortals kill vampires.” He tried to motion to the dead and decaying corpses around them and cursed when he couldn’t move his arm.

  “I could’ve killed her, Bastien,” Cliff said in an agonized whisper. “I could’ve killed her. I could’ve killed her.”

  “But you didn’t,” Bastien said.

  “Only because you stopped me!”

  The woman’s brow furrowed. “Why is he so upset over hurting me?”

  Since she thought Aidan the enemy, she couldn’t fathom why injuring her would cause his friend such distress.

  “Because he’s a good man,” Aidan explained. “And he’s still lucid enough to realize you’re one of the kidnapped gifted ones we’ve been trying to locate and rescue.”

  “Rescue?” she blurted incredulously. “You’re the one who kidnapped me!”

  “No, I’m not. That was an imposter. You’ll understand that in time.” He glanced at the man. “You’re one of the missing gifted ones, too. I recognize you both from your pictures.”

  “What the hell is a gifted one?” the man asked.

  “You are. Men and women who were born with special gifts others don’t possess. The virus doesn’t drive gifted ones insane. Our advanced DNA protects us. Humans don’t have that protection and suffer progressive brain damage. Cliff was human before he transformed. He joined us years ago. Our doctors have been trying to help him stave off the madness ever since.” Seth! he called telepathically.

  Yes?

  We’ve found
two more of the missing immortals.

  “I can’t do this,” Cliff said, his voice full of agony. “I can’t do this anymore, Bastien. I don’t want to hurt people.”

  “Cliff—”

  “I almost killed her,” he continued, more tears spilling over his lashes. “I would’ve killed her if you hadn’t stopped me. I would’ve cut her throat. I would’ve killed her. And I would’ve enjoyed it!”

  The sound of a small engine approaching drew Aidan’s attention. Glancing to the left, he swore. A golf cart carrying two HPD officers zoomed toward them. They must be working security on campus.

  Seth appeared, sword in hand. The devices Aidan and Bastien carried beeped.

  The man and woman gasped, eyes flying wide.

  “Trouble to your nine,” Aidan said.

  Seth looked over at the golf cart. A moment later it slowed. The officers’ tense faces relaxed. Both men smiled, then chuckled as they turned the cart around. “Damned kids and their stupid pranks,” one murmured.

  “Yeah,” his companion said. “It was a good one though, wasn’t it? I thought that shit was real.”

  As the cart retreated, Seth turned to assess the scene.

  Cliff raised red-rimmed eyes to meet Seth’s. “I almost killed her, Seth. I didn’t mean to. I swear I didn’t mean to. I don’t want to hurt innocent people. I don’t want to be like this anymore.”

  Nodding, Seth closed the distance between them.

  Aidan stiffened.

  Bastien did, too. He even tried to step in front of Cliff.

  Did Seth intend to slay the vampire and end his torment?

  Seth brushed Bastien aside and rested a hand on Cliff’s shoulder. He gave it a squeeze. “You did well tonight, Cliff. You kept the vampires busy and killed them all, giving Aidan and Bastien plenty of time to disarm the missing immortals and hold them until I could arrive.”

  Cliff’s tears stopped as he blinked. His features smoothed out, the distress leaving them. “I did?”

  “You did. Good job. Why don’t you rest now?”

  Cliff nodded. “Okay.” He closed his eyes. His knees buckled.

  Seth caught him before he could fall.