Scarlet Night (Limited Edition)

by Megan Parker

  “I think I’m going to be sick!” Zoey cried out, still bracing herself.

  “Oh c’mon, ya big baby! We did it!” Serena laughed wildly as she ran another light to make a hair-pin turn.

  “Oh god! We’re going to die!” Zoey squeaked.

  “Is he going to be okay?” Zoey’s already soft voice was nervous and shaken.

  Zane groaned and struggled to open his eyes, but found his lids heavy and unresponsive. He sighed and, still rolling on what he assumed was a sedative-induced calm, enjoyed the serenity while it lasted. Though he couldn’t see, he recognized the energies of the clan and found further comfort in knowing that they’d made it back safely.

  And that was about all that made sense to him at that moment.

  He recalled the fight—the familiar rage and the overpowering impulse to murder and destroy—and he also remembered seeing Serena.

  And then he remembered…

  Clarity?

  Peace?

  That couldn’t have been right. Nothing about the curse was clear, and there certainly was nothing peaceful about it; nothing! Perhaps Serena or Zoey had altered his memories to cover up some horrible act…?

  He was just beginning to test his mental condition to see if something hinted towards auric tampering when a second voice interrupted his thoughts; “It looks like he won’t have any prolonged injuries. His wounds were pretty severe, but his… er, unique condition seems to have repaired a lot of the damage. He’s also responding positively to the enchanted synth-blood we have him on, but we’re still monitoring for any lingering damage to his psyche. We should know for certain in a day or two when the swelling in his head’s gone down.”

  “That’s a relief,” Zoey said with a heavy exhale, “The big dummy! This was the second time he’d transformed in less than 24 hours! Every time it happens I can sense his pain from all the way across town! I don’t know how many times he can go through that before his body…” Zoey’s voice trailed off.

  Zane tried to move again—to will some response that would tell Zoey he was awake—but his body was still unresponsive.

  “It’s hard to tell. He’s not built for the process. While I don’t understand exactly what it is that does this, it certainly hasn’t helped him to endure the physical strain. Every time he changes—both into and out of that… thing—his body and his mind are literally broken. He isn’t so much being transformed as something is rebuilding him, but any biological response that could numb or moderate the pain seems to be held back, and if our scans are accurate, then it would appear the same response is actually keeping his system from going into shock. Not only is the pain not being suppressed, his body’s actually working to stay conscious so he’s forced to endure it! It’s as though whatever it is those tattoos do wanted him—”

  “Listen,” Serena’s voice cut into the med-tech’s explanation, “this is fascinating and all—not to mention incredibly reassuring to hear—but maybe now isn’t the best time. What I’m hearing and what this all boils down to is ‘he’s suffered, he’s suffering, and he’s doomed to suffer yet again’ and while I’m sure this is making Zoey feel so much better—‘cuz, hell, your bedside manner is spot-fucking-on!—I’d say all your reassurance has put us both in such a positive frame of mind that we may just burst into song. Problem is, I’m tone-deaf and I have—get this!—actually killed housecats with my voice. So, while I’m eager to have more of your sunshine blown up our asses, I’d hate to cause an untimely death on your staff with my lyrical exuberance. So how ‘bout you give us a moment alone with our friend, huh?”

  Had it not been for Zane’s inability to speak and move he was certain he’d have fallen out of bed with laughter, and he once again cursed his unresponsive muscles at the realization that he couldn’t applaud the Vailean girl’s superb delivery. The silence—save for the rapid clacking of the med-tech’s retreating footsteps—was both a blessing and a curse. Though he hated the prolonged silence, the explanation had been—though nothing new to him—depressing and unsettling. Thankfully, Serena’s brashness had been more than enough to end it.

  Did she know he was awake?

  Had she done it for his sake?

  Though she had opted not to hear of his curse from their clan’s staff, he was certain that she was far from being over her curiosity. He would, no doubt, still have to explain everything to her sooner or later. If nothing else he owed her that much.

  Hearing her voice had calmed him though, and the more he thought about it the more he was forced to admit that he wasn’t imagining that fact. No matter how he approached the situation, there was no denying that the monster’s destructive nature had been squelched upon her arrival; had allowed his reason and focus to return so he could keep them both alive.

  But why?

  Why would the beast’s fury—a fury that had proven on many occasions to dwindle only after everything and everyone around it had been destroyed—yield to anybody.

  And why her?

  Could her ties to Gregori truly be that influential on something that was nothing less than rage and chaos incarnate?

  Surely it couldn’t be her gender; the beast didn’t care for anyone. Male or female.

  And none of the women on his mile-long list of past flings had ever swayed or stayed the perpetual mayhem in his mind.

  Hell! The only impact they’d had on it was encouraging him to make it hurt.

  But all the hair-pulling and rough fuck sessions had only ever been just that.

  Nothing but a one night stand.

  So why her?

  Why now?

  He heard more footsteps start up and fade into the distance, followed shortly after by the sound of the door as it was pushed open and then slowly closed with a sigh, and he wondered if he had been left alone with nothing more than his drug-hazed thoughts. He tried again to pry open his eyes, putting all his conscious effort into getting some control—no matter how small; anything to feel like his body was his own—and succeeded in getting them to gradually flutter open and was rewarded with a bright white light that bled past his parted lids. As the beams of fluorescence assaulted his wide pupils he hissed and tried to turn his face away.

  “Jeez!” Serena jumped a short ways away as his noise and movement cut through the still silence, “God! You big dummy! Scared me to Hell-and-back! Oh, and for the record, you should’ve left your eyes closed.” Serena’s condescending tone was laced with one of concern that gave her away as she leaned over him to adjust the light away—hanging on a swinging fixture over his bed—out of his line of sight.

  He looked around for a moment, relishing in his returning motor functions, and allowed his gaze to finally come to rest on Serena.

  He bit his lip.

  She was so close to him.

  Too close to him!

  He caught a whiff of her subtle scent—sweet and floral with something spicy mingled throughout, and visions of cherry blossoms and cinnamon sticks surfaced in his mind—and, getting lost in the enticing aroma, allowed himself to inhale it further again and again. It was too compelling to experience only once; demanding to be recognized and worshipped repeatedly. It was the smell of nature and beauty. Her long hair—the color of sunlight reflected on fresh snow—was tied back into a tight ponytail, and while he found the vision an enticing one, he couldn’t help but feel a tugging desire to pull it free of its confines. He frowned as he caught his left hand shifting and beginning to rise towards her and forced himself to pull away, shaking his head softly at himself.

  He would never allow himself to fall in love; could never allow himself to fall in love.

  Not with anyone!

  Not with this curse!

  Destroying everything and everyone was what it thrived upon, and any feelings he had for anybody would make it all the more painful when he tore their still-beating hearts from their fractured ribcages.

  “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” she asked softly.

  He sighed, keeping his gaze locked
to the sterile-white ceiling tiles, “I wasn’t sure if you were ready to hear it.”

  “Did Keith do it? Was he the one who killed my father?” Her voice was shaking, but he couldn’t tell if it was from grief or rage.

  “He…” he growled and closed his eyes again, not wanting to risk seeing her expression upon hearing the truth,“He was. It seems he’s assigned himself with a mission to take this clan apart from the inside. It’s all part of some fucking vendetta against your father, and he knew!”—he felt his hands tighten into sharp fists—“Your father saw it coming and I…” Zane forced himself to settle down. Obviously the drugs were beginning to wear off. “It doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that it was Keith’s doing.”

  Serena pursed her lips and looked away, trying—but failing—to conceal the shimmering wetness in her eyes. After several deep breaths, she opened her mouth and stretched her jaw before deciding she was in control of her emotions.

  Zane knew that look all too well.

  She sighed, “My brother and I never got along; to be honest with you, I don’t think anybody got along with the bastard. He was always up to something—always plotting some terrible new prank or some sadistic new way to torture… well, anybody!—and using our father’s role as leader as a means of getting away with it all.” She shook her head, her face starting to melt into a mask of rage, “He always used power and influence as an excuse to do anything he wanted. He’s never not been a manipulative, fucking dick, and I never did anything to stop it. I was too fucking scared of him!”

  Zane frowned and looked at her, “Serena?”

  She was still shaking her head; still staring off with growing fury, “I think this fight has always been mine. He hated that Daddy saw me as his princess—as the only one fit to take over the Clan of Vail—and now he’s usingthe fear I had of him when we were children to try and scare me away from this. All so he can prove that our father’s judgment was wrong. I just was too selfish to fight back…” she confessed, “… until now.”

  Zane’s eyes widened and he stared, dumbfounded and awed, “Then… you’re accepting the clan? You’ll help us?”

  “Bitch, please! I am done being under that arrogant turd’s boot. Besides, you wouldn’t make it that far without me, anyway!” She gave him a coy smirk before shaking her head, “I can’t help but wonder how he’s gotten control of The Council’s approval for all of this, though…”

  “He hasn’t. Well, not completely, at least. Not yet. He still needs…” Zane sighed, shaking his head as he paused. Realizing for the first time that they were the only two in the room and what that meant. He frowned, “Where’s Zoey?”

  Zoey was exhausted.

  The end result of the previous night’s chaos had all-but driven her six feet under, and seeing Zane laid out on in the infirmary was just too much for her. While she wanted nothing more than to drop into her bed and allow sleep to consume her, she was unable to get settled enough to sleep. For nearly four hours she tossed and turned—her fleeting moments of sleep haunted by visions of the strange therion from the forest—and, upon each awakening, she was forced to admit more and more the impact he had had on her.

  When it was finally dark enough for her to sneak out without notice, she quickly took advantage of the situation and snuck out; using her aura to scan for potential witnesses and seeing to it that they would recall witnessing nothing. Though there was a twinge of guilt at using her abilities against her own clan-mates—and for such selfish and, moreover, childish pursuits—she couldn’t shake her hopes to finally have some time to herself in the forest.

  Though she was secretly pining that she wouldn’t be alone.

  Sighing and allowing her mind to wander, she let her surroundings become a distant thought until she was finally in the depths of the forest. Not knowing how to seek out the source of her restlessness, she momentarily abandoned her hopes and went to her regular spot in the center of a clearing where the canopy of trees opened up just enough to allow her to see the moon. Settling in the rim of this clearing, she leaned against one of the thicker tree trunks that served as the dividing line and closed her eyes as her thoughts shifted once again to the therion from the previous night. She bit her lip and lifted her hand to her chest; she knew it was wrong to obsess over somebody that was, for all intents and purposes, the enemy, but she was unable to think about the therion as anything evil or malicious. Again and again she pushed the thoughts below the surface of her bubbling mind, yet, each time, they would burst back to the surface—that much stronger and more compelling—and she felt her heartbeat quicken and lodge itself in her throat.

  What was going on with her?

  Closing her eyes, she began to hum softly as she accepted the inevitability of her own mind’s desires and allowed her thoughts to caress the forbidden territory.

  “You again?” the familiar voice snarled from overhead and Zoey’s eyes flew open and shifted upward towards the dark mask of night-bathed leaves, “What are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay away!” his voice echoed down, though she could not see where he was.

  “I-I’m sorry!”—she lied—“I was just trying to relax.”—another lie—“I didn’t mean to! I swear! I didn’t even think you’d be here again!” Zoey bit her lip, mentally counting how many lies she’d just fed him and wondering how many he’d believe. Still looking up in the direction of the voice, she moved to pull away from the tree.

  Though she couldn’t convince herself he was an enemy, she couldn’t be sure that he shared her sentiments and worried that he was going to attack.

  A growl echoed from the canopy and Zoey froze as the sound of branches shifting picked up and the object of her desires dropped down gracefully to his feet, “Don’t worry, I’m not interested in killing you. I don’t need any more issues than I already have,” he sighed, shifting his eyes to the ground.

  “Really?” She felt herself smile and her face went red from the reaction. She could see from the calmness in his earthy aura that he was being honest, and this realization motivated her to take a step towards him. Realizing what she was doing, she paused and looked into his mind, positive that he’d be furious if he knew of the invasion but unable to refrain from finding out more about him. Though the depths of his mind were clouded and hazy—feeling like a dense fog and containing more images and memories than calculated thoughts—she “saw” that he was wondering her name but was unsure of how to ask. Smiling uncontrollably again, she withdrew her prying aura and took another step, “I’m Zoey.”

  “Zoey…” he recited the name under his breath, sounding confused and looked over at the small lake nearby that was shimmered under the moonlight and reflected the flashes from the dancing fireflies before shifting his predatory gaze back to her and nodding once. “You can call me ‘Isaac’.”

  He sighed and played with the idea of running off, knowing that he should leave before this became something more severe than what it already was. It wasn’t right to get close to a vampire, no matter what. Not after his experience with their kind. He knew he was supposed to kill vampires on sight. After all, it was his job to do so…

  … no matter how much he hated it.

  “Isaac? I like that name.” She smiled and gestured for him to sit with her near the tree he’d been perching in, “Do you want to sit with me?”

  He turned towards her and frowned, she looked fragile—too fragile, like the slightest contact would break her—as she held out her tiny arm. He inhaled slowly, looking back towards the direction of his pack and weighing his options for a moment before looking back at her and letting his eyes trace her body.

  Though she was a vampire, there was no denying that she was beautiful. The intense blue of her shimmering eyes and dyed hair adorning a soft and innocent face reminded him of a sunny day and he felt a warm flush overcome him as this thought came.

  Just like the previous night, he found himself reaching for her and quickly pulled away and looked down, feeling the warmth repla
ced by a flood of embarrassment. Her gaze was completely on him, taking in everything they saw—and more, he suspected—and her piercing eyes filled him with a sense of comfort and stability he had never felt before. He averted his eyes again, afraid that the calmness would make him weak and vulnerable to an attack. Could she be creating a distraction; setting him up while another leech attacked from the darkness? But he couldn’t convince himself that the suspicions were justified. Something in the way she looked at him made him feel…

  … something he shouldn’t.

  “So, what were you doing out here before you found me?” She smiled and sat back against the neighboring tree and looked out at the pond.

  “I was trying to clear my mind,” he answered before frowning. He wasn’t usually this open—this honest—with anybody.

  “Oh? I was too!” she smiled again, “I always come here when I need to think. It’s so relaxing here!” She smiled; her voice was soft and filled with so much passion and excitement, “I’ve always loved it here.”

  He blushed and, without moving his head, shifted his eyes towards her, finding himself getting lost in everything about this enticing, albeit unusual, vampire.

  He forced himself to look away again.

  To become involved with their kind was the last thing he wanted. He had a mission to follow—a job that he’d dedicated himself to seeing through—and he couldn’t help but feel guilty for the thoughts and feelings in his mind.

  He didn’t need to see her to know she was smiling. Something about her had a sincerity behind it, and he couldn’t help but feel that it was real; that it wasn’t just a setup. Though he barely knew her, he felt like he could talk to her about anything. He growled and shook his head.