Light Shadows

by S. L. Jennings

  Stavros dips his head to one side, feigning ignorance. “Wouldn’t it be fair of me to expect an explanation? You and your brother run out of here on the most anticipated event in decades, and you want to know why I requested your presence? Surely you are not that daft.” His gaze finds mine again, and he smirks. “Or maybe you are.”

  “Aurora was not fit to be my wife, nor to be queen one day. It was a mistake,” Dorian says, ignoring Stavros’s jibe.

  “I’m inclined to agree,” his mother nods, sipping tea from a colorful, porcelain teacup.

  Stavros dips his head from side to side, weighing Delia’s assessment. “Maybe so. But as a prince, and the future heir of this kingdom, it is bad form to renege on your promises. Have you no dignity, son? No concern for the consequences of your decisions?”

  Dorian huffs out an aggravated breath. “Of course I do, father, but—”

  “Then why make a sacred pledge only to sully it with deceit? You of all people should know what that would have done for this house. And now…now you’ve left a pretty girl to drown in her sorrow, because her groom-to-be enjoys the taste of hybrid pussy. I can’t say I blame you, but duty and honor must take precedence over our carnal desires. And it’s not like you are expected to lay only with your wife. One would not begrudge you for keeping little Gabriella as your concubine.”

  “She’s not a concubine,” Dorian spits. His voice is still cool and calm, but there’s malice in every word that falls from his lips. “She is mine. I am hers. And no one will change that.”

  “Sure about that?” Stavros tips his head, motioning to the faded mark on my hand. “Maybe you are not strong enough to keep her. There are some animals that cannot be caged.”

  “Enough,” Delia commands. “Let us get on with it, my king.”

  “Yes, yes,” Stavros nods. He snaps his fingers, and the door to the vast room creaks open.

  I knew the very moment I heard the sultry rhythm of those designer pumps. Every step sounded like she was imagining my body embedded in the foundation, and she was jabbing and piercing my flesh with those spiked heels. I cringed, because while I knew I’d have to face her eventually, I was hoping it would be on my terms. On my territory, where I hadn’t just been verbally cut down to a home-wrecking whore and compared to vermin over dainty, crème-filled cookies.

  “Hello, hubby,” Aurora chimes, lowering her svelte frame into the seat across from us. She crosses her long, shapely legs and flips her cascading, black waves. For someone who was just left at the altar days ago, she sure looks amazing. Where the hell are the puffy eyes? The acne from eating chocolate until she barfed? And that tight, curve-hugging dress looks nothing like sweats and a holey tee.

  “What are you doing here?” Dorian nearly growls, his icy glare focused on his former fiancé.

  “Well, this was supposed to be my home. But you and your little tart here tried to screw all that up. Luckily, I had some insurance.”

  “Oh?” Dorian asks condescendingly. “And what insurance might that be, pray tell?”

  Aurora smiles so sickeningly sweet that a wave of nausea attacks my stomach. I crouch over, holding my abdomen, gasping for every ragged breath.

  “What did you do?” Dorian barks, grasping my shoulders before I topple over. I’m losing consciousness, struggling to remain in the here and now before I black out. His voice sounds farther and farther away as he demands answers between asking me if I’m ok.

  “It’s not what I’ve done to her. But them,” I hear her answer in that shrill, sing-song voice. I force myself to look up, refusing to give her any power over my body. And once my hazy eyes fall over them, I completely straighten, shock and adrenaline replacing all traces of illness.

  “I’m sure you’ve met a few of my friends already. Pity how it worked out, although fully expected. I knew you’d catch on, Dorian. And instead of telling you, I merely chose to show you. Aren’t they wonderful?”

  “What have you done, Aurora?” he spits, as if his mouth is filled with bile.

  “What I had to,” she smiles. “What you should have been doing all along. I gave your father what he wanted—something that could benefit our kind and rid us of atrocities such as her. We needed an army. I created one.”

  “Not so fast,” Stavros chuckles, finding great joy in the three possessed humans standing before us, staring at me through zombie-like eyes. It’s true. It’s all true. But this wasn’t Stavros’s doing. It was Aurora’s. She had been playing Dorian all along!

  “You,” I hiss, throat tight with overwhelming anger. “You killed Donna.”

  The evil, soul-sucking bitch has the nerve to shrug. Shrug! Like it’s no big deal! Like killing my mother was the equivalent of squashing an ant.

  I always knew I would kill the person responsible for Donna’s murder. I just didn’t know I’d take so much pleasure in doing so.

  Just as vengeful heat snakes up my hands and wrists, I feel Dorian’s tight grasp on my thigh and hear his voice shouting in my head.

  Not now! Not now, Gabriella! You will get your revenge, I promise you. But, this is not the time. Not if we want to save Cyrus.

  My breath comes out in short pants as I teeter at the crossroads of slaughtering Aurora once and for all and trusting Dorian enough to wait. My eyes go to her pleased, blood-red pout, then to Stavros, who looks just as proud. I hate them. I hate them both. And I vow on everything that I love that I will kill them. It may not be today, but I will not rest until I drain every last drop of life from their pathetic souls.

  “Aurora may have taken the initiative and given us the idea,” Stavros says, nodding towards the humans—two girls, one boy—none of which look a day over eighteen, “but we hope to expand this plan globally. Isn’t it funny? All this time I longed for a son—an heir that would one day take my place and lead our people with immeasurable power. And all I truly needed was a daughter.”

  Aurora beams brightly at his words, causing Delia to roll her eyes and huff out an aggravated breath.

  “Yes. A daughter you like to fuck,” Niko mumbles, plucking up a finger sandwich. “I still don’t see how this has anything to do with Cyrus. Where is he?”

  “The vampire is alive,” Stavros says with a wave of his hand. “However, I can’t say for how long. Consider him…motivation.”

  “Motivation?”

  Stavros nods. “As it stands, we only have the eight true Dark powers involved, and the process is draining to our abilities. However, there is one that could be beneficial to the cause. One that is said to be even more powerful than even I,” he snorts. He turns to me, his eyes wild with excitement. “Killing Cyrus would hurt my sons. And hurting my sons would hurt you. You are ruled by your love for them, not for your love of humanity. Isn’t that right?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I sneer. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “Oh?” Stavros replies, a devilish smirk on his lips. He turns to the human kids and inclines a single finger, pulling the first human girl forward by invisible strings. “Then save her.”

  “What? What do you mean—”

  The first crack of bone is nearly enough to make me sick. That, accompanied by the girls blood-curdling screams as she went down, clutching her now L-shaped leg, would fuel a lifetime of nightmares. She is possessed, but she feels unspeakable pain. It was so great and so deep that I could feel a phantom ache in my own leg.

  “Save her, Gabriella,” Stavros says before raising a finger again, sending the girl into another fit of screams. She clutches her arm at the elbow as blood spurts out of a deep gash from the protruding humerus bone. “Come on! Be her savior! Show us what you’re made of!”

  “I-I…can’t…I…” I lift my hands to stop her pain, but they’re cold. I feel…nothing. No power surges through me, licking up my arms with prickling fire. There is no crackling ice touching my eyes, kissing them into bone-chilling magic. It’s gone. This girl is in agony right in front of me, and I’m too chicken-shit
to do anything to stop it.

  “Gabriella,” Dorian whispers beside me, the horror in his face urging me to do something. Or maybe what he’s telling me is to do nothing at all.

  “Yes, come on, Gabriella! Let’s see the Dark Light in all her splendid glory!” Stavros bellows, drunk off power and blood-lust. His finger twitches again, and the poor girl screams so loudly that her voice gives out and becomes nothing more than a hoarse whimper. I can’t look at her—I can’t see how he’s mutilated her further, but I can smell the blood. So much blood.

  “Stavros,” Delia says with a heavy accent. He laughs, yet puts down his hand, reclining back in his seat, leaving the young woman to writhe in agony on the floor.

  “You see, Gabriella? Even you know that humans mean nothing. They are expendable. You couldn’t even find it in your heart to save this one.” He snaps his fingers and a vampire steps forward and grabs a handful of the injured girl’s hair. Oddly enough, she barely makes a sound as he drags her out of the room, leaving a trail of bright red blood. Maybe she knows it will all be over soon. Her pain will cease once the last remains of her life are drained from her body.

  “You’re sick,” I spew, my hands shaking with ire. I hate him for what he did to that girl. And for what he made me come to realize.

  “Maybe. But I do wonder…” Stavros muses, waving a hand to dismiss the other humans. I breathe a sigh of relief. “How would you react if it were your precious Dorian in danger? Or maybe you’d risk your life for Nikolai. Let’s test that theory, shall we?”

  Fury-spiked blood heats my face. “Don’t you dare, or I will—”

  “You’ll what? Sit there like a scared little girl? Clam up and let your precious prince die? Of course no human is a match for them. But with the right opponent…”

  He snaps his fingers, and before I can fully turn my head to catch it, a vampire seizes Niko from behind, razor sharp fangs distended and just centimeters from his neck. I scream, knocking Dorian out of the way in a blur of movement, and shield him with my own body. Then I feel it—the pulsing, tingling magic, slithering up and down my arms. It warms at my fingertips before it evolves and expands into a scorching creature in my palms, too wild to be held or contained. I extend my hands, setting it free, giving it flight and freedom in the form of electric ribbons. It seeks a host in the vampire and burrows itself in his chest, filling him with magic so great and uninhibited that it fills him to the point of overflowing. A dark sludge leaks from his eyes, nose and ears as the magic holds him in frozen captivity. And, just as the last of it leaves my fingertips, the room falls completely silent and still. We all watch with rapt horror and fascination as the vampire disintegrates into a pile of foul-smelling ash.

  “Ha!” Stavros exclaims, clapping his hands. Still, I’m frozen in place, unable to fully comprehend what I’ve done. “Bravo! Bravo!”

  I feel a hand on my back, and I flinch before realizing its Dorian’s. He leans into me, his lips on my ear. “It’s ok, baby,” he says, slowly lowering my hands. “It’s ok. It’s over.”

  I look at Niko, who appears just as shaken as me. It all happened so fast. I don’t even think he realizes how close he was from having his throat ripped out.

  “What the fuck?” he shrieks, jumping to his feet, frantically brushing the dead remains of his attacker from his clothing. His head snaps up, his violent stare seeking Stavros. “How could you?”

  I don’t miss the hurt in his voice. He already felt inadequate…unloved. Now his father has made him expendable.

  “Oh, calm down, Nikolai,” Stavros answers with a wave. “There was no real danger. Not for you, anyhow. But isn’t that interesting? That Gabriella’s power is not ruled by her love for one brother, but two?”

  “You’re insane.” Niko shakes his head and scrubs a hand over his face. “And completely delusional. Gabs will never align with you.”

  “Oh?” Stavros stands and circles the room, contemplating his next move. “What if I said the bounty still stands? And that it’s not only a bounty, but a call for execution? Shall we include your little human friend, Morgan? I’d love to meet her. Pity she couldn’t make it.”

  That gets my attention, and I whirl around the back of the couch to face him, teeth bared. “I swear to God, if you touch—”

  “If. I. What?!” His voice carries around the room, rattling teacups and saucers and shaking the priceless paintings on the walls. Then he’s in my face, only an inch separating his devious snarl from my lips. “I will do whatever it takes to get what I want. Don’t you understand that, stupid girl? And if that means sacrificing my own flesh and blood, I will do just that.”

  “Back off,” Dorian growls, inserting himself between us. He meets Stavros’s sneer with an absolutely terrifying look of his own. “You will not speak to her like that. Do what you want with me, Father, but leave her out of this.”

  Stavros snorts, taking a few steps back. “And what could you possibly do? You made it clear that you were above this family when you turned your back on us. You’ve thus been replaced. Now…I want the girl. And she can either come willingly, or kicking and screaming.”

  He looks around Dorian’s body, his cold, blue eyes roaming my body from top to bottom. “Although I’m inclined to the option of kicking and screaming. I do so love it when she gets wild.” He sniffs the air, tasting it. “Makes her smell like sex and sugar.”

  “You can’t have her,” Dorian says, ignoring his comment. “She is mine, mark or not. So I’m giving you Option C.”

  Intrigued, Stavros lifts a brow. “Option C?”

  “Yes.”

  Dorian turns to me and gently takes my face in his hands. He searches my face, committing every tiny detail to memory, skimming through mental snapshots of every freckle and mole. Then his lips brush my forehead before his touch abandons me, leaving my skin still tingling.

  He turns back to Stavros and steps forward. “Me. Take me. You’ve always wanted a worthy heir. Now you have one.”

  “Dorian, no! Don’t do it!” I reach out to grasp his arm, but he anticipates it, and slides out of the way. A hand snakes around my waist, holding me back from going to him, and I realize it’s Niko. He shakes his head, but his expression is just as bleak as mine. Still, I have to do something—say something—to make him change his mind.

  “And how do I know that you’re worthy?” Stavros asks, ignoring my cries of protest. “You’ve disappointed me before, Dorian. How can I trust that you will not again?”

  “My mind is open to you. I am incapable of deception. I’ve had time to live in the human world and now…now I’m ready to do what it takes. I was weak before—confused and misguided about where my alliances lie. I’m not anymore.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes. I am done with trying to be something I’m not,” Dorian deadpans, his voice so cold and distant, I don’t even recognize it. “You don’t need Gabriella, and you definitely don’t need Aurora. Take me. I’m the one you want. Teach me, train me. Show me how to rule our people. I only ask two things.”

  Stavros crosses his arms in front of him. “I’m not so sure you can bargain for any favors, but let’s hear it.”

  “Let Cyrus live,” Dorian says. “And break the link between Gabriella and me.”

  What?

  WHAT?!!

  Dorian wants to break the link. He wants to sever the only tie that would connect us forever. Why would he do this to us? This can’t be right.

  “And why would I do that?” Stavros asks with a mocking smile.

  “I have no desire to be tied to her. Her magic is not pure—it is a defect. Allowing mine to meld with hers will only further taint our bloodline. If I am to rule one day, I will do so with nothing but Dark blood in my veins.”

  “Yet, you give her your mark. Then a ring,” Stavros challenges.

  “Human tokens,” Dorian explains, as if he’s rehearsed this conversation for weeks. “Meaningless to our kind.”

  The look on Stavros’s fa
ce is almost…impressed. “Fine.”

  “Now.”

  Stavros raises both brows in surprise. “Now?”

  Dorian nods slowly. “I want you to break the link now. Then I’ll do anything you ask of me. What do you say, Father? Do we have a deal?”

  “D, don’t do this,” Niko says, his voice weakened with desperation. Dorian turns his head to the side just a fraction, yet ignores his brother’s plea, extending his hand to Stavros.

  Stavros takes a long beat to contemplate Dorian’s offer. Nobody speaks. Nobody even breathes. Even Delia and Aurora are stunned in silent disbelief. This isn’t right. This isn’t supposed to happen. If Dorian complies with Stavros, then what does that mean for us? For him? Is he purposely sentencing himself to an eternity of damnation?

  I can’t let that happen. Not to him. Not while I still have breath in my lungs and blood in my veins. Fuck the link. He and I are bound by love.

  Taking advantage of the distraction, I break free from Niko’s hold and make a dash for Dorian. Just as I reach out to grasp his shoulder, he turns around inhumanly quick, and meets my expression with his cold contempt. “I am done with playing with children. Run away, little girl. You’re not one of us.” Then just as swiftly, I’m left to stare at his back through burning tears.

  His words seal the deal with the devil, and Stavros nods. “I accept your offer, son,” he says, smiling with pride. He slips his hand into Dorian’s and shakes, and I feel like someone has punched me in the gut, sucking the air right from my lungs. I stagger, and Niko is right there to steady me, wrapping a protective arm around my shoulders.

  “I’ve got you,” he whispers, leaning in to whisper in my ear and stirring the curls around my neck. I feel him flinch as Stavros approaches, but he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t give up on me.

  Stavros’s cold, broad hand lays flat against my chest, his eyes wide with mischievous delight. “Don’t move, or I could lose the connection and end up crushing your chest,” he warns. Then he begins to chant in a low, accented voice. It’s the Dark tongue, the ancient language genetically embedded in every Dark One’s frontal lobe. A gust of wind sweeps through the parlor, causing cups and dishes to clatter to the floor.