Paranormal After Dark

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “I’m sorry for what I’ve done. Please forgive me,” I begged, falling to my knees at the base of the loveseat.

  “I will heal. What matters is, I am alive,” she said. Her raspy voice was still kind, even though I had almost killed her.

  “I do not deserve your patience, Rozaline.”

  “What you did was done out of good intentions. Your methods may have been questionable, but you meant me no harm. I forgive you.”

  “I doubt Nicholas will. He seems pretty angry.”

  “He will get over it when I am better. He is very protective of me, just as Lysander has been protective of you.”

  The mention of Lysander’s name caused tears to well in my eyes. Another image of Lysander flashed in my mind. I saw him slowly sinking in a dark murky pool.

  “I have to go after him. I’ll do it alone if no one will go with me.” I shot up and walked to the door. A hand grasped my arm.

  “You’re really going after him, aren’t you?” Nicholas asked.

  “Yes. Let me go!” I yanked my arm from his grasp.

  “And what do you plan to do if a human sees you?”

  “I’ll figure that out when I get there.” I’ll kill them if I have to. I’m not coming back without him.

  Nicholas smirked. I wondered if he had read my mind. “You do care for him, don’t you?”

  “Yes, of course I—”

  “Fine, I’m going with you.”

  We stepped outside into the smoky air. The burning house was close. Nicholas stood rigid for a moment. His eyes closed and his head slowly turned from side to side.

  “What are you doing?”

  His answer didn’t come. He stood rigid in one spot, slowly turning his head. He lifted his head up slightly, appearing to sniff at the air like a dog.

  “This way.” He took off in a sprint. “We will try to come in from the back yard.”

  I followed as he hopped over a large stucco wall.

  “Try to keep up,” he yelled, bounding over the walls behind houses as if they were mere racing hurdles.

  I stumbled, trying to keep up. My foot caught the edge of a wall, sending me crashing to the ground.

  “Damn it, I should have done this myself,” Nicholas grumbled.

  Heat rose to my face. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

  “I didn’t ask, because no, I don’t care. We’re here for Lysander, not you.”

  “I would have preferred to do this myself.”

  “And the last time you tried to be a hero, how did that turn out? Do you know how much pain she is in?”

  “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

  “Just shut up. Do as I say, and keep up.”

  We hopped the last wall, making it to the yard of Kallisto’s safe house. The heat from the fire was intense; the air was choked with black, acrid smoke. I spotted the pool and a large mass floating on the surface.

  “Lysander,” I gasped, and ran toward him.

  Nicholas held out his arm and stopped me.

  “Wait,” he snapped as he looked around the yard.

  “What are we waiting for? Let’s get him out of there.”

  As I spoke the words, a man in a bright yellow fireman’s coat ran around the back yard. He must have spotted Lysander’s body floating in the pool. “One body back here,” the fireman shouted into a small speaker at his shoulder.

  “Crap,” I said. “What are we going to do about him?”

  “Didn’t you say you would do anything to save Lysander?”

  “It’s not polite to read minds.”

  “Never said I was polite. Go get him.” Nicholas pointed at the fireman. “I’ll watch your back in case there are more.”

  The fireman reached out into the pool, stretching to grab Lysander’s body.

  I walked quickly and quietly over to him.

  How am I going to get rid of him without exposing myself? Should I knock him into the pool? Should I feed from him? No, that would kill him. He’s an innocent. I can’t do that.

  I reached the edge of the pool. The fireman was still attempting to pull out Lysander’s body.

  I could knock him unconscious. If he didn’t see, me he would never know what had happened. Perfect.

  I smiled, proud of myself for coming up with the plan. I slammed his head against the side of the pool. The fireman fell to the ground unconscious. His head fell limp into the water.

  Crap. I hope I didn’t do too much damage.

  I pulled him away from the pool and laid him out on the grass. I could still hear his heart beating.

  He’s alive. Good. When he wakes up, he’s going to have one hell of a headache.

  A new voice boomed into the back yard. “Mason, why aren’t you answering your radio? What’s up with that body in the back yard?”

  “There’s more of them.”

  “Let’s get a move on, sweetheart,” Nicholas called out to me. “No time to play with your food.”

  “I wasn’t planning on killing him.”

  “No time for explanations, there are more of them coming. I’ll get him out.” Nicholas barked. “You get back over that wall.”

  He walked over and caught Lysander’s hand. He dragged the limp body out, tossing it over his shoulders.

  “How will we get him out of here?”

  “I’ll try to take him with me over the wall. You go first and catch if necessary.”

  Catch?

  There was no time to question. I did as Nicholas said and made my way over the wall and waited for Nicholas to come over.

  Nicholas was extremely strong, even by vampire standards, but the added weight of Lysander’s limp body made hopping the walls a much harder task. I could tell the dead weight of Lysander threw him off balance. He groaned as he landed, almost toppling over a few times before we made it back to Lysander’s home.

  Nicholas laid Lysander out on the couch. He was weak and unresponsive. I could see now that his skin and clothing were singed, and he looked just as monstrous as Rozaline. Water dripped from his clothes, soaking into the couch.

  The battle he and Santino had fought had taken its toll on him, and he was unable to move or speak. He lay there silently, staring up at the ceiling as if dead.

  “Thank you, thank you,” I said to Nicholas, throwing my arms around him. I could still feel his animosity, but he accepted my thanks.

  “Take care of him. He needs you,” he grumbled.

  “I hope so,” I said trying to hold back the tears of joy.

  Edmond joined us in the living room. “Is there anything I can do to help? Does Lysander need blood?”

  Gone was the powerful demeanor; he appeared now a defeated and pathetic man, a mere shadow of his once former proud self. He held out his arm in offering to Lysander.

  “Why are you still here?” I asked.

  He turned to look at me, his eyes sad, traces of tears lining his cheeks. “I must make things right with Lysander.”

  “Why?”

  “It is the honorable thing to do. I have caused your master much grief in my time. Now that my mistress is destroyed, I will submit and pay for my crimes however Lysander deems fitting.”

  “Are you ready to die now?”

  “If that is Lysander’s wish.”

  Chapter 26

  OUR EFFORTS TO tend to the wounded showed quick progress. By the next evening, Rozaline and Lysander both began to look more like themselves. The burns on both their faces had become scars and were slowly disappearing.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked, joining Lysander on the couch.

  He didn’t respond, staring at the distant wall as if watching something important on a television.

  “No need to answer me now; just know I’m so happy you’re alive.” I nuzzled into his chest, listening to the faint sounds of his heartbeat.

  Edmond walked into the living room. I had almost forgotten that he was still with us.

  His presence had an effect on Lysander. He turned and stared;
a growl rumbled in his chest. Hatred flooded the room, as if seeping straight from Lysander’s pores.

  He pointed directly at Edmond. “Destroy him.”

  Edmond looked at the finger pointed at his head; he frowned, but didn’t say a word. He was already defeated, just waiting for his sentence.

  “He helped to save Alyssa and assisted us last night,” Crystal said as she entered the room.

  “A night of good deeds is not worth the pardon of a millennium of evil.” Anger was audible in Lysander’s voice.

  “Save your death sentences for later, Lysander. There are more important things to discuss, like Santino and the rest of the Saints,” said Drew, joining the conversation.

  The whole clan gathered in the living room.

  “Yes, Lysander. What happened in there?” Nicholas asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.

  Lysander seemed to emerge from a trance, looking shocked to see us all sitting around him.

  “Did you kill Santino?” Crystal asked.

  Lysander’s raspy voice sounded so old. He was still not fully healed from his injuries, despite his appearance. “I don’t know.”

  The room filled with quiet anticipation of Lysander’s explanation. Our worst fear was that Santino had survived.

  “The fire forced us out of the living room,” he said. “Flames licked at our heels as we attacked one another.” He winced in pain. “I made for the stairs, hoping to avoid the burn of the flames. Santino followed. His strength was much greater than I had expected. I imagine Kallisto’s blood had helped him with that extra boost.”

  Edmond sighed loudly at the mention of Kallisto. He dropped his head to hide his face from view.

  “The flames followed us as we fought up the stairs; we were surrounded,” Lysander continued. “Everything was burning. No matter where I turned, the flames trapped me. At that point, I was determined to keep him in the house, so I could be sure we burned together. The flames ate away at our skin.”

  I cringed, trying to imagine the searing pain.

  Lysander took a deep breath before speaking. “I grabbed hold of Santino, determined not to let go. He threw me down and attempted to break out of the back window. I remember lunging forward, knocking him to the ground. I held onto him, shouting that we would die together. We tumbled and rolled around on the floor. Again, he escaped my grasp. I’m not sure exactly what happened next; I was at the point of blacking out. We must have crashed through a bedroom window and rolled off the balcony into the pool. When I opened my eyes again, Nicholas was fishing me out of the water.”

  “So Santino may still live?” asked Nicholas.

  “It is a possibility, although I doubt he poses any immediate threat at this time. His injuries would equal mine, and I am assuming he would not have had the benefit of his children to heal him.” He smiled at us.

  Nicholas sat back into the cushions of the couch. An arrogant smile was painted across his face. “Yes, I believe we took care of his backup.”

  “There were more than we had anticipated. There were at least five that attacked us,” added Rozaline hoarsely.

  “That doesn’t include the first wave that must have taken out Kallisto’s guard. We cast nineteen bodies in the fire before we left,” Crystal added.

  Edmond flinched again at the sound of Kallisto’s name, drawing Lysander’s attention back to him.

  “I want him dead,” Lysander hissed. “He should have been destroyed with her coven.”

  “Let him live. He’s earned at least that much for helping us,” said Crystal.

  “I agree,” said Drew. “He’s earned at least his life.”

  Lysander thought silently about this. I felt the anger inside of him. He wanted to punish Edmond for all the years of problems he had caused. I believed that Kallisto had been telling the truth when she said Lysander had loved her and Edmond’s presence had destroyed that love. I doubted that he ever really gotten over that pain.

  “You do not know the problems this man has caused me over the last few centuries,” Lysander growled. “Nicholas, Rozaline, you two are my children. You know of the pain I have endured: the secrecy, the fear. What say you?”

  Nicholas opened his mouth to speak, but Rozaline hushed him, raising her scarred hand to his lips. “We cannot make this decision for you. It is up to you to decide,” she rasped.

  “Send him away, exile him. He doesn’t deserve death now,” said Drew. “Be the better man, Lysander.”

  “Please accept my apologies, Lysander,” said Edmond quietly. “I have been a monstrous creature. I have no excuse for my actions.”

  Lysander spoke in a low monotone. “I want you dead.”

  Edmond appeared more defeated now than he had before.

  The house was silent. No one dared say anything. Lysander had decided Edmond’s fate, and none of us would go against him.

  Edmond stared at Lysander for a moment and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for the suffering I’ve caused. Perhaps I could offer you something.”

  “You have nothing to offer me.”

  “Perhaps the knowledge of your old writings.”

  “You know where they are?” Lysander perked up at the mention of his lost memoirs.

  “Yes,” Edmond answered. “She wanted them protected, since they were all she had left of you. You will find them in Boston, inside of a building that was once your home.”

  Lysander’s eyes lit up. “That information means a great deal to me.”

  “It is not much, but it is all I can offer for the torment I have caused you.”

  Lysander sat quietly for a moment.

  “Go, Edmond,” he whispered. “Leave now and never show your face to me ever again. Wander the earth alone and friendless as you wished me to do all those years ago.”

  Edmond’s eyes seemed to sparkle with relief, but his face remained stoic. Lysander had decided to spare him.

  “Thank you for your leniency.” Edmond bowed and silently left the house.

  “What was he talking about?” I asked. “What could be worth so much to you?”

  “My original writings.” A smile played across Lysander’s face. “I will have them once again, all the history I thought was lost by my hasty retreat from the coven.”

  Even in my short time with Lysander, I had heard him say more than once that he wished he hadn’t lost his original works. Now that he knew where they were, he would soon be reunited with them.

  What a smart move by Edmond, to use them to bargain for his life.

  “You will let him go?” Nicholas asked calmly.

  “Drew is right. He should live.”

  “What?”

  “He has nothing left, no family, no friends, no mistress. To kill him now would put him out of his misery. I want him to live with this feeling for a long time.”

  Chapter 27

  MOST OF THE Peregrinus had survived the ordeal. Now that the danger was over, the clan had time to mourn the loss of their two youngest members. They burned all of Damon and Jessie’s possessions in a midnight ceremony in Lysander’s backyard.

  Rozaline remained outside alone after all of the others had finished making their peace with the loss of their clan mates. She appeared to be having a tough time dealing with loss. Her face was somber. I saw a slight glistening in her eyes, as if she were trying to hold back tears.

  “You’re sad for Damon, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I will miss him. He was so young and new to this life. We wouldn’t have turned him if it weren’t for Jessie.”

  “Jessie,” I scoffed.

  Rozaline breathed a heavy sigh. “It is her death that saddens me most.”

  “Why mourn the loss of Jessie?” I asked. “She led me right to Kallisto.”

  “She was my child, Alyssa. I brought her into this life.”

  I bit at my lip, not knowing how to respond.

  “She wasn’t all bad, just young and impressionable,” Rozaline continued. “I believe she was enticed by the splendor o
f Kallisto’s coven. Life on the road is hard, and not everyone can handle it.”

  That’s no excuse for betrayal. “I would’ve ripped her apart if I had the chance.”

  “I understand your anger. You have every right to hate her for what she did to you.”

  “You’re too forgiving, Rozaline, first with Jessie, and then with me.”

  “You have eternity, Alyssa; don’t spend it holding grudges.”

  I huffed, looking down at the makeshift fire pit in the rocks.

  “If it makes a difference to you, Alyssa, she didn’t go unpunished.”

  It occurred to me then that I had not given thought to what had happened after she was sent back here. I assumed Kallisto’s minions had just killed her and left her to rot on Lysander’s doorstep.

  “She was still alive when she was left here,” Rozaline said, clearly reading my mind again.

  “What? Then how… who killed her?”

  “I did.”

  “What!” I gasped. Rozaline was too sweet, too motherly, too caring. I couldn’t picture her killing one of her own.

  She killed her child for me?

  “Lysander raged when he learned what happened. It took all of the clan to hold him off as she delivered her message from Kallisto. He wanted to tear her limb from limb.”

  Wow, all that for me. I hid my smile. Warmth rose to my face.

  “Her life was put to a vote, and it was decided that she must die. It was only fitting that I be the one to do it.” She breathed a heavy sigh.

  “I’m sorry you were forced to do this.”

  “She was my responsibility as my child. I did what had to be done.”

  “I’m sorry things ended this way.” I didn’t know what else to say. How do I comfort someone who had to kill her child?

  Rozaline remained silent for a few moments, staring up into the night sky.

  “Some are not meant for this life. Immortality is a precious gift. But it doesn’t always last forever.”

  She didn’t look at me as she turned around and slowly walked back into the house.

  * * *

  I SPENT SOME time alone outside on the patio, thinking about what Rozaline had said. I should have been dead countless times in the last month.