As he guided Eve back to bed and tucked her in, he prayed to God another nightmare didn’t strike him tonight. They were getting more vivid. More real. Soon, although he had no way of knowing when, the terrible feelings emerging from his subconscious would inevitably reign. They’d take control, dragging his nightmares to the forefront of his mind.
How would he keep his distance from Eve, then? When he could taste her blood on his lips every second of every minute, both day and night? He’d be like a raging alcoholic with a penchant for shattering glass, canoodling with a bottle of Jack.
Ruan had a niggling spur in his gut warning him that when that time came, all hell was going to break loose. And everyone stuck in his crossfire was going to suffer for it.
Starting with Eve.
Chapter Five
“Vamp authorities are hot on Savage’s heels. He’s armed and dangerous and rumored to be hiding south of Crimson Bay. Do not approach the vampire-therian hybrid under any circumstances. We do not know the full threat he poses to our race, only that he is one.”
San Francisco Haven Newsletter: Note from the Primus, 2011
QUIET AS THE dead. That’s not exactly what Savage had in mind when he started interrogating his enemy in the bowels of Fort Point . . . but seeing as she was already considered dead by most modern vampire standards, the point was moot.
The vampire elder was sprawled before him in nothing but a dingy white sheet, her arms and legs draped over a cold stone tablet, blood trickling down her body in rivers of glistening red. As he tied the rope in another knot around her wrist and looped it around the rusted railroad nail secured to the bottom of the stone, she grimaced, but said nothing.
After stalking around the table, performing the same torture technique to each of her limbs, Savage stood and admired his work. Her body couldn’t possibly contort another inch without popping balls from sockets and ripping flesh from bone. She had to be in excruciating pain.
Yet she revealed nothing of value.
Frustrated beyond measure, Savage scrubbed his hands over his skull-trim cut and paced the edges of the dark room. Fort Point, the former military stronghold of San Francisco, had been an integral component in the defense of the Pacific half of the country in at least three major wars, starting with the Civil War in the eighteen hundreds. And even though the government had kept the information under wraps, Savage managed to dig up books dating back hundreds of years, revealing that this very room had been used for interrogation and torture from the start.
It was the perfect place for him to push through the details of his plan—cold and dark, dank and rotten, full of evil . . . and above all, private. Public tours barely scratched the surface of the fort and adjoining buildings. If the National Park Service only knew one of the most expansive underground structures in the world existed beneath their feet, the entire country would be buying tickets, waiting in line to see where the real horrors of war took place.
Lucky Meridian . . . one of the few to experience the tour firsthand.
“I brought you here because you broke your promise.” Savage sauntered to the side wall as if strolling through Golden Gate Park on a Sunday afternoon, unzipped the duffel he’d brought with him, and pulled out a six-inch serrated boot knife. “Now, any other promise I wouldn’t have minded. You’ve broken so many, it’s hard to keep track. But this one is unforgivable. You swore you’d tell me how to unveil the dark powers of the Ever After.” He spun the knife around in his hand, admiring the balanced weight of it. The cold, hard steel against his flesh. The strong, thick handle settling perfectly into the heart of his palm. “You lied to me, sent me to hunt rogue phantoms in Los Angeles. For what?”
With the knife hidden behind his back, Savage leaned over Meridian again. As her pale blue eyes scanned the rough contours of his face, they turned nearly translucent with fear.
“I told you what would happen if you betrayed me,” Savage seethed. “Your darling Eve will pay.”
As she looked at him again, her expression blank, he saw she didn’t have much time left. Vacancy signs had already started to dim the light behind her eyes. “Savage,” she moaned as he pulled the ropes tighter. “You cannot control the death shades. They are too powerful to be controlled by one. Any man who tries will have a swift meeting with Death.” Eyes squeezed tight, her lips puckered as pain shot through her body, arching her back. “And you don’t even know why Eve is of value, just that she is. It is not enough to know; you must understand. You have not stretched your mind further than your own selfish desires.”
Laughter bubbled out of him. “It’s not me who’s stretched, old lady—it’s you.”
He sheathed his knife, opting to take her wager and raise her another two notches. He cranked down on Meridian’s wrists. Her mouth opened wide, letting out a wretched howl—music to Savage’s ears.
“Oh, so you do have a pain threshold,” he breathed, searching her expression for another grimace. “Interesting. I was beginning to wonder, you know.”
She swiped her tongue over her thin, cracked lips. “Do what you will with me. I will not help you create more evil in this world.” She was breathing heavily now. Her skin was pale and clammy. “But I also know you will never stop until you fulfill your twisted desire. I expect nothing less from you, my son.”
Son.
The word scorched his eardrums, shot a fiery arrow straight for the region of his chest that no longer held his merciful heart. He was no one’s son. Never had been. At least not in her judgmental eyes.
“It amazes me how someone so brilliant can be so stupid.” He fisted handfuls of her silver locks. “I haven’t been a son to you since the day I was born. Convenient of you to bring out the endearment once you’re in danger and I’m in control. Do you honestly think the love I had for you will somehow reappear like a blessing from God, all white and holy and forgiving?” He released his grip on her hair and smacked her right across the face with the back of his hand. She spat blood on the dull marble floor. “Allow me to burst your pathetic little bubble. There is no God. Not within earshot anyway.”
“These stone walls may save you from the vampires and therians hunting you down, but they will not save your soul, Kane. You cannot hide from your fate. You will answer for your actions, whether in this life or the next.” Her weak voice crackled like dry wood in a blazing fire. “If you unleash the death shades, your soul will bear the punishment. But I forgive you.”
“You will call me Savage,” he hissed, his lips brushing her ear. “And you may be All-Knowing Meridian—spoiled by people falling at your feet, begging to glimpse their future—but you can’t fool me. You can’t see a lick of my future. How bad does it bother you that you’re blind to my path?” Shaking his head in disbelief, he coughed out a laugh. “Ever wonder how you got to this place, tied up and bloodied, about to take your last breath? Wouldn’t you have liked to see this coming? Don’t you wonder why I‘ve been blocked to you all this time?”
Meridian’s chest rose and fell beneath the blood-soaked sheet as if she sighed. “Let us get to the point, shall we?” she said, each word carried on a jagged, broken breath. “I’m growing quite tired of your theatrics.”
Riding a vicious wave of anger, Savage locked his hands around her throat and smashed her head against the hard stone, causing dust to fall from the flickering overhead lights. “You will tell me how to unleash them!” he roared. “I will drain you within an inch of your life and bring you back, only to do this all over again! You will give me what I seek!”
Savage released his hold, unsheathed the serrated knife from his boot, and drove it deep into the fleshy mound of Meridian’s thigh.
She arched back, her pale blue eyes bulging out of her angelic face. Blood gushed from her leg and pooled on the floor. He stepped both feet into the lake of crimson and tapped his toes, toying with the mess he’d made, then eyed the knife buried deep in her l
eg. With lightning speed, he grabbed the shaft with both hands and wrenched it around full circle.
Meridian screamed so loud, Savage swore the whole Ever After sat up and took notice. As it should. Good thing these walls were ten-feet thick and made of concrete, brick, and mortar. He could make her scream until her voice box dried up and no one would be the wiser, even in the light of day.
“Tell me what I need to know and this will all be over,” Savage said, his fury temporarily masked beneath layers of calculation.
She swallowed hard, blood gurgling in the back of her throat, and spoke so softly Savage thought he might’ve imagined it. “You will be powerful, my son. You will shed the blood of ones you once loved.” She lifted her chin as if she wanted to say more, but couldn’t. Oh, but he needed to hear more.
Savage closed the space between them, leaning so far over her that the blood from the sheet wet his own shirt. This was it. She was going to spill all her secrets. After that . . . who knew? Maybe he could let her stay here and sweat it out until the end. She could be of use to him. Yes, she might be able to play a role in the grand scheme once she acknowledged who gave her orders from here on out. Prophecies were valuable and hard to come by nowadays. With the hunting of elders for blood money by therians as well as their own twisted kind, many went into hiding. Even if she was blind to his own future, having someone around to predict the paths of his enemies might come in handy, mother or not.
“Mother,” he said, with a slow pulse of his hollow heart. “You don’t have to reveal all your secrets for me to spare your life.” He removed the knife from her thigh and wiped blood from the blade onto his jeans. A sweat-soaked tendril of silver hair stuck to her forehead. He brushed it aside slowly, hooking it behind her ear. “I just need to know a few small things. How do I unleash the death shades? Tell me how to thin the veil between this world and the Ever After enough to let them through . . . and tell me how to control them.”
Her expression fell at his words. She was nothing more than a skeleton wearing a blanket of skin now. Gaunt. Lifeless. A shadow of her former powerful self. It was rather pathetic.
“You will meet your ruin, Kane.” She coughed, spattering blood onto her bottom lip. “Do what you will with me . . .” Her eyes fluttered closed as she heaved a labored breath. “I won’t be the one to help you unleash those shadow creatures onto the world.”
Why couldn’t she give him this? His whole life he’d never asked her for anything. Not compassion. Not loyalty. Not even a mother’s touch when he was abandoned and bounced from one khiss to another. Was it so much to ask in his moment of glory, when he was about to make something of himself by unleashing these things, that she give him some latitude? Some information he could use to make himself the great son she’d always dreamed of?
No.
It was clear now she considered herself too high and mighty to ever help the sinful part of her. He was the thorn in her side. The black spot on her record she’d always wanted expunged. The son she’d wanted wiped from the planet. He supposed giving him the one thing he wanted more than anything in the world would be too much to ask. Especially for a bastard son—half vampire, half shape-shifter—that she’d never wanted anyway.
“Then you are useless to me.” Fueled by a hellstorm of emotions, bloodrage being the most ravenous, Savage reared up and sank his fangs into her neck. She gasped as he drew her blood into his mouth with hungry pulls. Electric currents of power gathered at the back of his neck, then scorched down his body like a live wire. When the icy burn of fire dwindled to a buzzing hum, numbness moved in, swallowing his feet, creeping up to his chest, until his head swam with disorientation and his eyes ached. With another hard pull, the room became blindingly bright.
His eyes widened as Meridian’s limitless knowledge poured into his brain like a cascading waterfall. Too much. It was too much. His head pounded from the onslaught of wisdom. Stabbing pain pierced his temples.
In a flash, the temperature in the room dropped, chilling him to the bone. He pulled back, wiping the drip of warm blood off his chin. He could feel the change in the room . . . in the metallic taste of her blood. Without explanation or question Savage knew what he was seeing next was a vision. The future. Knew it like he had a heart beating strong and lungs breathing air.
In his mind’s eye, everything happened in slow motion.
He was on the outside looking in. Like he was watching a movie reel played out frame by frame. Second by second.
He saw himself unsheathe the dagger in his boot. Raise it up high and stab it down into Meridian’s heart. She arched up, opening her mouth, but he couldn’t hear the screams. Against all laws of the dead or undead, Meridian’s quiet chest heaved, like a balloon being inflated to capacity. As it deflated again, two thick clouds of smoke drifted from her body into the air. But they weren’t plumes of smoke. No.
They were shadows.
Dark and light.
The white shadow, thick and soupy like holy fog, rose up to the sky. It hovered against the ceiling for a moment, shifting into indistinguishable shapes, bubbling at the edges as if to form something new, though not forming anything at all. A moment later it disappeared, leaving the dark one hovering near Savage’s line of sight.
Savage watched closely as the midnight-black shadow seemed to hang in the air before him. Like it was speaking to him. But he couldn’t hear anything. Why couldn’t he hear? It was like he was stuck in some sort of premonitory vortex, tunneling out all the sound.
It bubbled and churned, spun endless circles in the air. Hesitating.
In a heart-pounding crash of light and dark, Savage was at Meridian’s neck again. In the present. A smile turned the edges of his mouth as he realized what was about to happen.
With a jolt, he unsheathed his knife, stabbed it between Meridian’s ribs, right through the center of her heart, until the steel of the blade met the stone of the tablet. She arched up, screaming a primal cry that scorched Savage’s ears.
Then just as he saw in the vision, her body heaved. Two shadows escaped her. The light, a soft mist that floated to the ceiling, spread thin to the point he thought he might’ve peered through it.
And the dark . . .
It hovered before him, as heavy as night, as ominous as Death itself. It seethed fear and vengeance with every expansion and contraction of its blanket of black. Savage didn’t know whether the thing was going to suck the breath from his body or cover him like a cloak. Fizzing and hissing with every slow bob and weave in front of him, the death shade seemed to hesitate . . . as if . . . could it be?
Savage dared speak. “Down, I command you.”
The shadow slithered to the floor, writhing and spitting in compliance. A dark cloud of evil gathered at his feet, awaiting the next command.
Oh, yes. This is what he’d been waiting for.
His gaze darted to Meridian’s lifeless body.
“I suppose I should thank you,” he said, knowing he’d just succeeded in the task he came here to complete. He’d heard death shades accompany elders to the Ever After, but one could never be too sure about vampire lore. Now he’d discovered the truth: death shades don’t accompany elders to the other side at all—they bond to the killer responsible for their premature release. “You’ve shown me the way, Meridian, albeit against your will. I will reveal all the dark secrets of the Ever After by drinking the blood of your elder friends. When I do, I will control the death shades—all of them—and then unleash them on the world. I’ll figure out Eve’s purpose on my own.” Realization sank in. “I no longer need you . . . or your approval.”
Before devilish anticipation could take him over completely, Savage bent down on one knee, held his mother’s cold, bloody hand and recited the Lord’s Prayer. In death, she showed him the love she never could in life.
Now he’d use the dark powers of the Ever After to kill them all.
Chapter Six
“ReVamp remains open for business despite the chaos surrounding Savage’s return at Winter Solstice. Dylan has successfully duplicated Eve’s blood, providing a blood source capable of strengthening our race. Why Eve’s blood seems to be more pure than other Alvambra donors is anyone’s guess.”
Statement from ReVamp representative
“WHAT DO YOU think this means?” Dylan leaned over her cherrywood desk at ReVamp and studied the letters more closely:
gtw drh sos aiv xkqgal—jzvv gyvumww sycoxhb kcmv hki wpxc bwijqg chdwex . . . lnm gqi lc evv toj jx bzpp gvpqnifaxp lby wdtoaxg sqwppgcujvw qxl hts fezu etu.
“That doesn’t make a lick of sense in any language on record, I’m sure of it,” she said.
“When we first discovered these scrolls in the catacombs, you said they were written in Valcish, the language of your elders . . . maybe that’s it.”
Her gaze leveled out over the lab table. “I may not know how to read my ancestors’ dead language, but I know that’s not it.”
Slade palmed a hand on either side of the ancient scroll and bent his six-foot muscular frame to steal a hard look at the writing scrawled on the bottom. “There’s some English here too.”
“I said the scrolls were mostly written in Valcish.” She continued before he could argue. “The Grimorium Verum, the tome of truth where our sacred scrolls come from, is written in the blood of our elders. There are no steadfast rules or guidelines to translate anything.” Dylan circled a large portion with her finger. “But what I don’t understand is that the Valcish and English on these pages are written in the same handwriting, see?” She pointed. “This passage of random letters is in another handwriting altogether. And there’s no other page like it that we’ve found.”
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