by Cheree Alsop
“You could use a couch in here,” Lilian said.
“I tried to borrow your father’s, remember? Tell him it’s a worthy cause,” Dartan replied.
Aleric leaned back against the wall. He closed his eyes. It felt nice to relax after everything that had happened. If the others were to stop talking, he was sure he would fall asleep in an instant.
“How do you know the Four Horsemen on a first name basis?”
Dartan’s question made his eyes open again. Aleric looked at the vampire. It was clear by his friend’s expression that Dartan knew exactly what a first name basis with those type of fae meant. He wasn’t going to get out of the discussion easily.
A pit tightened in Aleric’s stomach. He looked at Lilian. “I’m not sure you want to hear this.”
“You’re not sure I want to hear this or not sure you want me to hear this?” Lilian asked. When he didn’t reply, she set a hand on his arm. “Aleric, I feel like I need to know. You’ve been through things I can’t begin to understand. Let me in. Let me know.”
Aleric shook his head and turned his gaze to the floor. “It won’t be easy to hear.”
“I think it’ll be worth it,” she replied, her voice gentle and hand warm on his skin.
Aleric closed his eyes again, but it wasn’t to escape the world in which he sat. It was to remember, and the memories that flooded behind his eyelids were things he had pushed down so hard seeing them again nearly broke him. He squeezed his eyes with his hand, willing the tears to stay at bay. He had forbidden them back then. He would do so again.
“Tell us.” Dartan’s words were soft, imploring.
Aleric knew he owed his friend the truth.
He pulled his knees up under his chin, unseating Lilian’s hand on purpose. He didn’t want to be touched, not by her, not by anyone. He didn’t deserve it, and she would soon know why.
He met her gaze. Her blue eyes were searching and depthless, her brow furrowed in her want to understand. There was love in that gaze. The realization caught Aleric by surprise. She cared about him. It might not be the same way he felt for her, but it was there, emotion, understanding, compassion, and respect.
Aleric swallowed. He would never see that look on her face again.
He cleared his throat. “After the Fallow Conflict, when all of the werewolves in Blays were killed including my dear friend Sherian, I didn’t have much of a choice left.” He glanced at Dartan. “Vampires and demons scoured the streets at night hunting for any of us who remained. The fae I had called friends betrayed me for money and the safety of their families. I had nowhere to go. Everyone I knew was dead. I wanted to die.”
His breath caught at that admission. Dartan and Lilian waited without speaking for him to collect his thoughts. Aleric shook his head. “But I couldn’t.” He spoke to the floor, his gaze on a crack in the tile near his shoe. “A werewolf’s instincts refuse to let him or her give up. We can’t take our own life. I couldn’t sit and wait for them to find me.” He looked at them both, willing them to understand. “We have to fight, to survive, to uphold our race even if it’s against our own demand.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Our race must go on.”
The silence that pressed against Aleric came from every side. It felt heavy, depressing, holding him down, daring him to break it. It was a few moments before he could bring himself to do so.
“I went back to my animal nature, as others of my kind have done in desperate times. I became a wolf and only a wolf. I ran through the forests of Blays as an animal, eating, hunting, sleeping as a wolf until I no longer thought as a human, until the memories were distant and I could sleep without awakening with the nightmare of finding my friends and pack mates slain in their beds, holding my loved ones’ bodies while their lifeblood colored the floor at my feet.”
He remembered the green light. “I don’t know how they found me. I remember awakening in a cage surrounded by creatures in black cloaks.” He looked at Lilian, his gaze haunted. “I call them creatures because they weren’t human and they weren’t animal. They had abnormally long arms and legs, their noses stretched into beaks and cowls over their heads to hide the hideousness of their faces.”
“The Drakathan.” Dartan said the word with barely a breath as though fearing that to say it would bring them there. Aleric knew his fears were justified.
The werewolf nodded. “The Drakathan. The darkest of the Dark fae. The devourers of souls, the anti-destiny, the enders of the path.”
Into the silence that followed, Lilian repeated, “The anti-destiny?”
Aleric met her gaze. “They don’t care if someone is good or bad, how their path is affecting people, if they have a family to feed, others who depend on them for sustenance or care. All they care about is themselves.”
“The Drakathan,” Dartan said again. There was a note to his words and an incomprehension to the way he repeated them. “You were found by the Drakathan.”
Aleric looked at his friend. “My soul must be pretty dark to have attracted them to me.”
Dartan shook his head. He rose to his feet. “I know that’s not true. Just promise me you aren’t pledged to them.”
The werewolf looked away.
“Aleric!” Dartan said, his voice sharp. When the werewolf didn’t answer, Dartan repeated, “Aleric, the truth!”
Aleric swallowed against the knot in his throat and forced the words out. “They tortured me until I pledged.”
“There had to be another way!” Dartan protested, nearly shouting.
Aleric shook his head. He studied the scar across his open palm, avoiding the vampire’s gaze. “There wasn’t.” He took a shuddering breath. “When you endure that level of pain….” The memories threatened to overwhelm him, images of blue fire, green steel, and the sound of breaking bones, his breaking bones. He shoved them back with a shake of his head. “They gave me no other way.”
The silence that filled the room was charged with Dartan’s anger as he paced from one end to the other, his stride short and jerky compared to the vampire’s usual grace. He finally paused near Aleric and faced him.
“They own you.”
Aleric’s lips pulled back in a snarl and he looked up at the vampire. “Nobody owns me,” he said with a growl of frustrated rage.
Dartan held his heated gaze until the werewolf lowered his eyes. “I hoped it would be different here,” Aleric admitted. “But the gorgons are looking for me. I’m a danger to everyone around me.” He looked at Lilian. “You should go.”
“I’m not leaving,” she argued.
There was incomprehension on her face. She had no idea the level of danger Aleric’s presence brought. He didn’t know how to convey it to her.
Dartan sat back in his usual seat, but he didn’t lean against the wall. His entire pose showed his discomfiture with all he had found out. He let out a breath. “Do I dare ask about the Horsemen?”
Aleric lifted a shoulder. “Considering the rest of what I had to do under the Drakathan’s rule, the Horsemen were mild. We worked together at times. They knew I didn’t enjoy what I was forced to do, and each of them was dictated by the limits set by their station. I suppose you could say we understood each other.”
“Any chance you understood them enough to find Death?” the vampire asked.
Aleric shook his head. “Doyle’s a bit of a loner, as you can imagine. If Wallace and Fabian don’t know where to find him, that leaves me at a loss.”
Dartan finally sat back. He studied the wall across from them. “So we’re stuck.”
Lilian leaned against Aleric’s shoulder. “If only we could speak to the dead. I’m sure they know where to find him.”
Her words tickled Aleric’s thoughts. He looked at her. “What did you say?”
“I said, if only we could speak to the dead,” she repeated, confused.
An idea struck the werewolf. “We might not be able to speak to the dead, but we can hallucinate about death. Or is it Death?”
�
�What are you talking about?” Dartan asked. He stared at Aleric as if he had sprouted a dozen arms.
“Dr. Worthen said he was sending the plague victims to the psychiatrist before they could be cleared to head home because many of them were hallucinating about death and dying.” He pushed up to his feet. “I need to talk to the psychiatrist.”
“Given your history, I agree,” Dartan said, rising as well. “Perhaps you’ll figure out why you did something so stupid as to pledge yourself to the Drakathan.”
Aleric didn’t answer. Both men held out a hand to Lilian. She looked from one to the other. Aleric and Dartan exchanged a glance, their hands still held out.
Lilian smiled and took Aleric’s hand. He gave Dartan a triumphant grin as he helped her to her feet.
“Sorry, Dartan,” Lilian said. “I hope you’re not offended. It’s just that—”
Dartan shook his head, his fangs revealed when he smiled. “You don’t need to apologize.” He put a hand on Aleric’s shoulder as they walked. “It’s about time someone chose this guy.”
“About time?” Lilian repeated. “Haven’t you only been here a few weeks?”
Dartan winked at her. “In the werewolf world, that’s like decades. They’re a hopelessly romantic lot.”
Aleric pushed open the doors to the D Wing and held them open.
“And vampires aren’t?” he asked.
“Vampires are worse,” Dartan admitted as the trio walked up the hallway. “If days without love for a werewolf feels like decades, for a vampire, the same span is centuries. We live on love. We thirst for it more than blood. We lie awake in our coffins pining over when the one we long after will proffer their figurative hearts. It’s a curse.”
Lilian chuckled at his melodramatic sigh. “I thought that since vampires live for so long, the days would feel short and insignificant, the memories in them trivial compared to the picture as a whole.”
Dartan gave a single nod. “In lesser creatures, I suppose this is so. My theory is that vampires live so long because we are cold-hearted, our senses lessened, our ability to enjoy happiness or wallow in sadness stilted because of what we are. That is the reason for our long lives; we need the centuries to experience what humans and werewolves and others do in days.” He gave her a long-suffering look. “It is the fate with which I’ve been gifted.”
“So we shouldn’t judge your womanizing ways?” Aleric asked.
Dartan’s gaze lit up. “Exactly. It’s merely my way of combining moments into the perfect tapestry of one single experience with enough magnitude to carry me through centuries of loneliness and bachelorhood when I grow old.”
Lilian grinned. “You know I’ve heard college students say the exact same thing.”
Dartan pushed the button for the elevator with a pensive look. “I should perhaps look into the college way of life.”
The elevator beeped and the doors slid open.
Aleric followed the other two inside. “Those college girls don’t stand a chance.”
Dartan smiled. “You think they’d like the vampire type?”
“I have a feeling you’d be a hit there,” Lilian replied. When the doors opened again, she led the way down the next hall. “You’d just have to figure out what to major in.”
“Pre-med,” Dartan and Aleric said at the same time.
Dartan chuckled. “Perhaps with a minor in blood analysis. I feel I’d have a head-start in that line of work.”
“Except you’re not supposed to drink the samples,” Aleric pointed out.
“That’s how I’d test them,” Dartan replied.
Lilian paused by a door bearing the nametag ‘Philomena Manors, Ph.D.’. She knocked.
“Come in,” a woman’s voice called out with a hint of an accent that ran the words together melodically.
Lilian pushed open the door.
“Lili, it’s been forever!” a woman with long black hair exclaimed. She rose from her desk and crossed to Lilian. She and Lilian hugged before she stepped back to look at the men. After a brief glance over, she said, “You must be Dr. Wolf, and you’re the resident vampire giving Nurse Tarli fits.”
“I give her fits?” Dartan said in surprise.
“Everything gives her fits,” Lilian replied.
“True,” Philomena agreed. “But the fae definitely haven’t helped. I’m still seeing the plague victims Dr. Worthen sends up here. We have a long road to travel yet.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Aleric told her. At the psychiatrist’s curious look, he explained, “Dr. Worthen mentioned that the plague victims hallucinate about death and dying. I feel they may be the key to tracking down the Fourth Horseman and ending this plague for good.”
Surprise showed on the woman’s beautiful face. “Dr. Wolf, I believe you might be right. Have a seat.”
She opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a manila folder. “All of the plague victims have hallucinated to at least some extent, so on Dr. Worthen’s recommendations, I’ve started a file on their accounts.” She scanned through the pages. “Most are scattered and brief. After we discuss them, the patient is generally cleared to go home. Others, however,” she flipped a few more pages, then pulled one out. “Like this one, are very clear and precise. I have these patients coming back for further evaluations to ensure that these visions don’t interfere with their ability to live a normal life. Dr. Worthen’s added your name to the approved physicians’ list on the plague victims’ files, so you can look at this.”
She handed the folder to Aleric.
Aleric scanned the detailed description of a dark path, skeleton trees, a howling wind, and a house so dark just looking at it made the viewer afraid.
Yet the details weren’t enough. He flipped through the pages, scanning each one. Aleric had hoped he could read the description and follow it to where Death was hiding out in the city. But the vague recollection of the plague victim’s memories were sketchy. There was nothing Aleric could follow to find Doyle.
“I need to see it for myself.”
Dartan made a sound of disbelief next to him. “What did you just say?”
Aleric looked up from the paper and met the gazes of his friends. “I can’t follow this description to find Death. I need to get the plague; I need to see the hallucination for myself.”
“You’re not serious,” Lilian protested.
“There’s no way you’re doing that,” Dartan echoed.
Philomena shook her head. “I would highly suggested against it, Dr. Wolf. From what I’ve seen, most of the plague victims recover to go on with their lives, but those who remember as well as this one will take months to clear from this hospital. It’s not a safe course of action.”
Aleric rose. “Just the same, I need to find Death as soon as possible. We’ve stopped the plague for now, but if he finds out it’s no longer spreading, he’ll go to other means. I need to find him and get to the bottom of his reasoning for interfering with the lives of humans in this city.” His resolve solidified as he spoke. He looked at Dartan and Lilian. “I need some of those tomatoes.”
“There’s no way I’m helping with this,” Dartan said firmly. “You’re insane. Just ask the psychiatrist. She can diagnose you.”
Aleric looked at Philomena.
She gave him a worried look. “Dr. Wolf, I don’t think the course of action you want to take is a wise one. I’ve seen you put yourself at risk time and again.” She reached into the drawer and pulled out another file. She handed it to him.
Chapter Thirteen
Aleric saw the name ‘Dr. Aleric Bayne’ written on the tab. He steeled himself and opened it. Inside were printed accounts of his battle with the demons, of him taking on the gargoyles, including a picture of him sprawled on his back on the Capitol Building steps, his eyes closed and the stone form of the gargoyle next to him. The caption read ‘Dr. Wolf Sacrifices Self to Save Edge City.’
Aleric sat back down and set the folder on the psychiatrist’s desk. He flipped
further through the pages. There was a picture of him pinned to the ground by the silver stake through his shoulder, his gaze defiant and his teeth bared in a rictus of pain as he stared up at the Archdemon towering over him. The title ‘Dr. Wolf Pits Self against Archdemon. Werewolf Prevails’.
“That doesn’t look like I prevailed,” Aleric noted, his voice soft. His shoulder gave a throb of pain in reply.
On sheets of yellow lined paper, in Philomena’s elegant, swirled handwriting, were written accounts of the werewolf’s actions inside and outside the hospital.
“Dr. Worthen worries you’ll push yourself too far,” the psychiatrist explained quietly. “It sounds like you’ve nearly been there a few times. I don’t think getting the plague on purpose is a very sound decision, Doctor.”
Aleric closed the folder and met her gaze. “Does letting Death continue to torment the humans of this city sound like a good course of action?” His words were quiet, calm. He had already made up his mind. “If I can make a difference here and protect others from getting hurt, I’ll do it. I don’t need anyone’s approval.”
He rose; the chair pushed back with a screech. He turned away, leaving his file on the desk.
“Aleric,” Lilian said.
Aleric pulled the door open and walked back up the hallway. He heard Lilian hurrying after him. He reached the elevator and pressed the button. Lilian grabbed his arm.
“Aleric, look at me!”
He let out a slow breath and turned. “What?” he asked, his voice tight.
The look of compassion on Lilian’s face was enough to take some of the frustration from him. She reached up a hand and pushed the dark hair back from his forehead that had become mussed by his abrupt actions.
“Aleric, talk to me.”
He glanced up to see Dartan and Philomena standing in the doorway of her office. He knew his response had been rude, but he couldn’t help himself.
“She had a whole file on me,” he said quietly enough that his words couldn’t be overheard. “You saw the others on her desk. Mine makes theirs look like poetry. My file was an entire tome.”