Everyone in the Compound had an apartment in this layout—a living room with one bedroom and a full bathroom. Except they could style it to their liking. Unlike at the old one, they no longer had their own kitchen area, allowing for more space, and had to go to The Lounge where the public kitchen area was located at for any needs. Thomas and Alyssa loved clean, organized, and sophisticated looks. She found the style of their apartment fitting for them.
“Where is Alyssa?” she finally asked, turning to him.
“She’s at the gym again. She wanted some time in there alone because she feels so rusty in all of her skills.”
Zarah nodded her understanding, and began nervously shaking her leg.
“Look Thomas, about earlier… I’m—” she started, only for him to pat her shoulder while shaking his head and interrupting.
“There is no need for you to apologize.”
“Yes, there is. I need to tell you something and it’s really hard for me to say it so just shut up for a few minutes please.” Zarah snapped at him then leaned forward and started rubbing her temples with a sigh. Her brother sat forward, confused, and turned the television off.
“What is it?” he asked, ignoring her request to be quiet. She let it slide and continued on in silence for another moment.
“I saw Mom.”
She blurted it so fast while her head was buried in her hands that it came out muffled. When Thomas said nothing, she looked up to see his expression a mixture of shock and puzzlement. Unsure he’d heard the first time, she repeated herself again.
“You saw Mom? What do you mean, Zarah?” he asked. “How long ago?”
His voice was rising and she could sense the anger coming in now.
“It was a dream I had the night we came here after the warehouse fight. She came to me in this stunning vision, telling me how there were going to be changes in the world, changes with me and to take care of you. She said she wasn’t destroyed by Rogues, but by the Fallen Masters and their Warriors, and that I would learn more in due time. I was left with a lot of questions, Thomas.” Zarah explained quickly, deciding at last minute to leave out the information about their mother’s inclination to look into Draven’s past.
He breathed slowly and she could tell he was trying to calm himself.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest. I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t just a dream—that it was real?”
Slowly, she nodded.
“When I told Seth, he said it was very possible for her to come to me in that vision due to our link and her still being a part of the spirit realm—” she began, but Thomas shot up from the couch and glared at her in a rage.
“You told the Fallen, but you couldn’t tell me?”
“Come on, don’t get mad. I didn’t know who else to talk to about it at the time and he knew her! I thought maybe he could help me understand, and it’s possible he still can. I didn’t tell him about the vision—only that I saw her and asked if it could be real. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t going crazy from all these weird changes going on!”
She was standing then, shouting back at him as tears stung her eyes. She hated that the waterworks had hit again but having her brother mad at her when she was only trying to tell him the truth upset her. She guessed that was a sign that she was trying after all to mend things with him and his feelings toward her were important.
Thomas must have seen the tears or felt the sincerity, she didn’t know, because suddenly without any warning he grabbed her and pulled her into a fierce, tight hug. It knocked the wind out of her.
“It’s fine. We’ll forget it. You’ve told me now and that’s what matters,” he whispered. Slowly she brought her arms around his back and hugged him in return.
“Thomas, why am I such a freak?”
She was still wrapped tightly in his embrace, her words tumbling out in barely a whisper against his cheek as her lips trembled. It was one of the rare occurrences she let her walls down, showing how vulnerable she could be.
Her brother pulled away from her and shook his head.
“You are not a freak. Never.”
She forced a smile and tried to protest.
“Of course you can say that. You’re my brother. Why couldn’t I have taken more after Dad like you obviously did?”
“I would say it even if I weren’t your brother, Zarah. You’re special, and you will be something great to this world. I’m sure of it.”
She looked into his eyes and saw only a stern expression. He wasn’t joking, he wasn’t saying any of it just to try and make her feel better, he was telling her what he believed to be the truth. Remaining silent, she nodded in understanding before turning away and bending down to grab her boots from the hallway.
“We’ll see about that,” she replied with a soft laugh.
Alyssa strolled in as Zarah prepared to leave. Her brother’s Mate was often soft-spoken and not very sociable, but she was an excellent fighter when needed. She greeted her with a nod while walking past, giving Thomas a fast kiss on the cheek, then going into the bedroom and shutting the door. Zarah made a mental note to spend some time with Alyssa one day personally. After all, she was the only other female in the Compound, and being her brother’s Mate, she would like to get to know her better. Thomas had chosen Alyssa shortly before going Rogue. Alyssa disappeared not long afterward. It was proven the night that her brother returned to warn her about the Rogues when Zarah first paired up with Draven a few months ago that she had gone Rogue with him back then so that they could stay together.
“I thought you were going to stay and watch the movie?”
She smiled.
“Sorry, I have some things I want to do before I go to bed. I promise we’ll get in some sibling time soon, though.”
He returned her smile and nodded in understanding.
“Alright. I’ll meet you at the gym later. And if you have any more dreams, don’t hesitate next time to come to me.”
Seven
The hallways were deserted by the time Zarah had left Thomas’ apartment. Sunrise was already on its way again and she could hear the automatic steel shutters closing around the building. Outside, the world was starting its day. Humans were braving the early light of dawn, thankful for the new day she was sure. She cursed the sun, wishing she could go out during the hours when it was almost peaceful, when she hardly heard any of the military trucks rumbling by or the guns going off.
Stupid human literature had been right about one thing at least—they couldn’t be out during daylight, and they rejoiced in that, using that time to get their work done or make new plans. Her team stayed in The Compound and continued watching the news regularly for updates. There was nothing new really. The world was in a mass panic. In the short time since the warehouse and Nathanial’s death, countries had banded together or shut down completely, and Vampires became the hunted.
They never even had the chance to tell them they once protected them. And now, there would be no way to even get them to listen.
The U.S. was the worst. The President had sent orders around to all military personnel to kill once confirmed by any means they wanted. Some of those officers liked to play cruel games. She had never thought humans to be such a harsh race until now. But Zarah’s sympathy still showed for others. The country was in turmoil, slowly rotting away into a power-hungry nation where everyone became afraid for their lives, not just from the Vampires, but from poverty. Businesses were forced to close. People were forced from their homes. The military and government were beginning to control everything.
The world was falling to pieces around them all.
Seeing all of the growing destruction and devastation, thoughts rolled around her constantly. One occurred to her most prominently that she had discussed with Thomas earlier. Would it be so much worse if Vampires jumped into war and ruled the humans after all? Depending on who the ruler over all was that is…
The raid from a couple nights ago still raged through her. Things were already growing worse. Something needed to be done, and she was stuck.
She paused in front of Draven’s door. It was closed, but she could hear his stereo blasting through the walls. After starting to raise her hand to knock, she changed her mind and turned away instead.
When she went into the main office of the new Compound, exhaustion was taking a toll, but she wanted to look through the files while she still had an idea at the forefront of her mind. The office was small, near the lobby and was never occupied by anyone in particular. The door stayed open but important documents were locked away in steel cabinets behind the big oak desk. Only she and Draven had access to the key that works the cabinets and locked desk drawers. As she stepped up to a wall panel that appeared to be wood, she slid back a small square to reveal a hidden space. Behind it was a safe. She rolled through the combination with ease.
After opening, she peered in, staring at a few stacks of money, some jewels they had picked up at various homes after humans had raided and killed the others, a gun she had placed there for safe keeping, and the set of keys.
Zarah kept the keys after opening the file cabinets, stashing them away into her pocket instead of returning them to safe. She didn’t know why, but it just felt better holding on to them.
There weren’t many files left. Most of them had been destroyed during the fire a few months ago at the previous building. Nathanial hadn’t kept them in a safe box, and instead they had been in his office in a wooden chest. When they first arrived at their new location, a few of the other Guardians had gone back one evening to shift through the rubble and debris for anything they could use. They brought back the surviving files, guns and ammunition, and some of their personal belongings from the apartments there.
Zarah had lost all of her clothing with the exception of what she’d been wearing that night. At least she still had her favorite pair of boots.
Going through the few files, she hoped that Draven’s had survived at least. Maybe Nathanial had known something about him that they didn’t and put it there. Maybe that’s why he ordered the Bonding Pact last year when she was curing as a Rogue—some kind of connection already? Her mother was adamant about her finding information about him. Manila folders slid through her hands—some wrinkled and bent with papers sticking out messily. Some with burnt corners—as she scanned the tabs at the names. Hers and Thomas’ file was there, both half charred with yellow-stained and burned papers, but she didn’t have time to stop and go through those folders. She might come back to them a different time. There was only a small stack so it was quick, and she let out a breath of relief when she finally saw Draven’s name on one of them, pulling it to the top of the pile.
Her rush of relief quickly turned to disappointment and frustration when she opened the file and found only two papers inside. Nothing more than that. There wasn’t a certificate of birth or documentation on his parents or even place of residence before he came to be a Guardian. Zarah frowned. She pulled up the first paper for inspection, only to find that it was his contract with Nathanial about the Bonding Pact. His signature at the bottom was beautiful with wide, elegant loops, and she caught herself staring at the writing for several long seconds before setting it aside.
The second paper was something else, and a bit more suspicious. It was a record of when Draven arrived to the Compound, and a picture that had been scanned and printed beneath the brief information. He was lying in a hospital bed with tubes running into his arms, pumping blood into his body. Zarah could see the picture was of him during his change, between the stages of human and vampire. Yet she didn’t understand why Nathanial had even recorded that in the first place. It confused her. As she started to pick up the paper for closer inspection, she noticed it felt heavy, weighted down in the back and turned it over. Taped in the middle was a small memory stick for a USB. She pulled it off and pocketed it, curious at its contents. There wasn’t time to connect it to the computer in the office. Someone was coming.
In a rush, she shoved the files back in place and locked everything away again. After the last drawer closed and she began to head toward the door, Draven passed. He stopped when he saw her and frowned.
“What were you doing in there?” His tone was suspicious. She shrugged, her face neutral and calm.
“I was counting our funds,” she lied. He narrowed his eyes and regarded her for several silent seconds before it seemed he accepted her response.
“Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyway. You can’t go out right now, and that means for anything.”
“I know that,” she snapped and began to push past him. “But eventually we’ll have no choice, and we’ll need to be prepared. We can’t be held up here for eternity.”
Zarah kept her head down, hiding her face through her long mess of auburn hair, while she continued down the hallway and into her room. She didn’t want to be in his presence right then. The USB drive pushed against her hip in the depth of her pocket with each step. He didn’t seem to care about her hurrying off anyway as he moved on toward the kitchen.
Once inside her room, she bolted the locks and looked around. There was clutter everywhere. Thomas would call it a “pig-sty”, but she called it lived-in. It wasn’t like there was dust all over the place or dirty laundry hanging over her chairs. She just didn’t exactly organize the way he did. She liked to pile her craft supplies around in various spots of the room, or books lay strewn about, but she knew where everything was by the end of the night.
The new Compound building had larger rooms for the residents. She had an attached balcony, but in recent days it stayed locked and closed off due to the building war. Since there was an open kitchen in the Lounge, the room didn’t have one like her old one did. Instead, she now had a small office space with a desk and laptop, and a larger living room area with a plush beige sofa and wall-mounted flat screen television. Her bed was separated by a partial wall near the couch, and sat close to the balcony windows. It was a beautiful four-post king size with sheer, purple drapery. She rarely made her bed too. Her brother always sneered at her when he came into her room and saw that.
After changing into comfortable clothes, she walked over to her desk with the new-found memory stick. Her computer hummed to life when she sat down and pushed the power button. Staring at the small piece of plastic warily, she plugged it into the port and watched her screen, waiting for whatever it was to come up.
“Is this thing on?” A video flashed on her screen and a familiar voice came through her speaker. Zarah froze, frightened, watching the images come slowly into focus.
“Yes, sir,” another distant voice to an unseen face answered.
“Okay, good. Now get out.”
She watched, leaning forward, while the video shook and forms began to take shape. A body began to come into view. She could now see a hospital room in the background, and a bed with a pale hand hanging from the side. The camera was obviously being set onto a stand so that it could take its video hands-free. She saw the operator and swallowed back a surprised scream.
The video had been filmed by Nathanial. And when he panned the screen to the hospital bed behind him, she saw who was laying there. Draven.
It was similar to the same scene she’d seen in the picture in his file. He lay unconscious on a table as Nathanial walked around the room readying some equipment—pulling out bags of blood and needles.
The wings were the most shocking surprise though. She hadn’t expected that.
Her hand came to her mouth in shocked horror, trembling, when she saw the magnificent, black feathers splayed out behind his back. Nathanial stood beside the bed and was staring at the camera with a silent, malicious smile as if he knew she’d be watching this someday.
Eight
Draven had been Fallen once. Zarah stared at her screen in shock and continued to force herself to watch the video. Nathanial wasn’t talking, but she learned enough.
; The Vampire she knew today hadn’t been human before his turning. Not only that, he’d been tortured. He’d been an experiment.
She watched on helplessly as the video continued. Nathanial reached for a dagger. In a silver flash, the wings were shredded from Draven’s back, and she gasped out loud. Her stomach churned when they fell to the floor in a bloody heap. She was silently thankful that he had been unconscious during that awful procedure.
“The subject’s name is Draven Kinsley. He is approximately twenty-two years old and Unclaimed.”
Zarah frowned in confusion. She didn’t know what the term “Unclaimed” meant. Did it mean that he didn’t have a mate? Or that he was an Exiled One like Seth and the others? She’d have to find a way to ask about this.
Nathanial continued working on Draven’s unconscious form in the video. Needles that pumped blood into his system were taped at the crook of his elbow. Tubes connected to IV bags. Her old boss moved away from him and picked up the discarded, bloody wings now on the floor. Blood streaked across the white tiles from the black feathers where they dragged behind him as he made his way to the trash chute at the other end of the hospital room, but he ignored the mess. When he was finished shoving them down the metal bin, he turned back to the camera and folded his hands in front of him. She knew the video had been made many years before; it had very poor color and quality. He must’ve later used his computer program to get it onto the memory stick. She didn’t understand a lot of the newer technology.
“This Fallen was found in the yard of the Duncan’s after Kathleen’s death. He was badly injured after a fight that I believe was meant to try and save Zarah’s mother. By morning he will be changed into a Vampire, the scars from his removed wings will be gone, and he will not remember anything. This should be interesting.”
Through These Wicked Nights (Guardians of the Night Book 2) Page 4