Pendulum (Kingdom of Night Book 1)

by L. C. Davis

  I pulled away sharply and sat back against a Ghostbusters seat cover. My own heart was beating faster by the second.

  “I'm sorry,” he said, panicked. “I don't know what I was thinking.”

  I tried to swallow but my mouth was dry. “It's not you,” I said, my voice hoarse with thirst and barely restrained rage he had done nothing to cause. So much for no emotions. There were so many welling up at me in that moment it was impossible to decipher them. All I knew was that none of them were good.

  “I'm sorry,” I said, getting out of the truck. I slammed the door and walked as quickly away from that truck as possible.

  “Hey, wait!” I heard him get out, but his door didn't close. All I could do was struggle to get back to the building. When I got to the door, I realized the faint blue light inside was coming from the vending machine area. The doors were locked.

  I turned around only to run into him. I didn't even know his name, and yet I had been painstakingly laying a trap for him from the moment I had pulled into the lot. I might not be able to feel guilt or sadness anymore, but at least I could still feel shame. I grasped it and held onto it for dear life. It was my only guide to sanity in the midst of this black sea of thirst and selfishness, at least until Sebastian and Victor came.

  Funny. They were worried about keeping me safe. Little did they know, they were seconds away from having to rescue someone from me. Maybe keeping me in the trunk wasn't such a bad idea after all.

  “Hey, look, I'm really sorry about back there,” he said desperately.

  I tried not to look at him. He would surely take the glare and slightly bared teeth as a sign of anger or at the very least insanity. How could he not?

  “I told you, it's not your fault. I initiated it. I just got out of a long relationship,” I said, moving past him.

  He blocked me. “So did I. Look, I'm not gay, I don't think, but I really felt a connection. Maybe we could-”

  “No!” I pushed past him and started stalking towards the forests. My resolve was wearing thinner with every thundering beat of his pulse. “Just leave me alone.”

  Until recently, being direct had always been impossible for me. Knowing that the choice was between hurting someone's feelings or ripping out their throat was helping me get over that quickly.

  “Don't be like that,” he said, far too close. He grabbed my arm and spun me around, staggering back a step when he saw my expression. I was fixated on his neck. I could see his pulse throbbing just under the surface. The satisfaction of biting into Victor's flesh was fresh in my mind, only I knew that if I bit this stubborn kid, his wound wouldn't be healed the next day. He wouldn't heal at all, because there would be nothing left once I started.

  “Please,” I begged through gritted teeth. “Just get away from me before I do something I-”

  “What are you gonna do?” His tone was different now, taunting. Gone was the sweet, helpful young man from the rest stop. In his place was someone new yet all too familiar. He took a menacing step toward me. “You gonna scream for your brothers? Yeah, right. You're out here alone and we both know it.”

  I shook my head. “You'd better pray to whatever God you believe in that we're not alone.”

  He gave me a strange look and reached for me. I kicked him hard in the chest and used the few seconds in which he was stunned to make a desperate dash for the forest. For the first time in my life, I wasn't running away from something. I was running towards the very last shred of humanity that existed within me.

  Unfortunately, if vampire speed was a thing, I didn't have it. As much as I loved to run, this guy was much taller and much faster than me. It didn't take long for him to close the distance.

  “Sebastian!!” I screamed “Victor!!”

  Something grabbed the back of my shirt and my feet went out from underneath me. I hit the dirt face first and was still recovering when he rolled me over, resting on top of me. His hands closed around my neck and he wore a strangely serene look on his face as he choked me.

  I thrashed and struggled. I was stronger now, but not enough to push him off of me. Instead, I went for his face and clawed a row of four gashes into the left side.

  He screamed in pain and released my hands, but the scent of his blood undid me. I scrambled out from underneath him, but I couldn't bring myself to run. My entire body was frozen as surely as it had been with the stake through my heart.

  I stared at him and he stared at me. It was a momentary truce of acknowledgment of the sins we were about to commit. His would only be an attempt. Mine, unless Sebastian or Victor made it in time, would not.

  “Sebastian, please help me! I can't stop it, please-”

  My plea was cut off in my own mind. Service denied. My would-be attacker was moving again and that was enough to get me back on my feet.

  It was too late. His blood was everything now. It was all I could see, taste, smell, feel, hear.

  Badum. Ba-dum.

  He grabbed my shirt and threw me down.

  BadumBadumBadum.

  He pinned me to the ground.

  Ba-dumBa-dumBa-

  His blood was like licorice, bitter yet sweet. It didn't have a particularly alluring taste, but it was the only thing on hand and I couldn't stop once the stickiness of it hit my tongue. He screamed and thrashed, but it was all background noise to that sweet fluttering music. The tempo slowed from a high-intensity pop joint to a romantic ballad, low and lazy.

  I learned in that moment that human blood was very different from werewolf blood. Werewolf blood was like a rich, full-bodied wine or a gourmet dessert. It was exquisite, exotic, captivating, but you couldn't fill yourself up on it if you tried. Human blood was like candy. It was so hyper sweet that you couldn't stop consuming it and it gave you an instant rush of endorphins and energy, but you knew you'd crash in a few hours until you could get more.

  By the time I released my attacker, his heart had stopped. I didn't even need to feel his pulse, the fact that I couldn't hear it anymore spoke volumes. My chest felt like it was about to cave in, but whether it was from the nearly two-hundred pounds of dead weight on top of me or from something else entirely, I couldn't be sure.

  I managed to push him off me and he rolled onto his back. His face was pale and his lips were outlined with blue like he'd been sucking on a lollypop for too long. His mouth was slightly agape and his glassy blue eyes stared at the moon as if transfixed.

  Her rays held no warmth or comfort for me that night. Only condemnation.

  I staggered back from the body only to collapse a few feet away, staring at it. My eyes refused to leave it or even to blink. I waited, but still no guilt came. Still no sorrow. Still no fear. Not even when I reminded myself that in a few days' time, there would be two parents in Oregon wondering about their boy. Nothing.

  “Remus?” The name seemed foreign and so did the caller, so I didn't answer. I just sat there, staring over my knee at the contorted body of the stranger I had been chatting with in the rest stop not a half an hour earlier. I was the quintessential cat who stalked its prey only to be at a loss as to what to do with it when the prey was finally captured.

  “Remus?!” Concern rang in Sebastian's voice for me for the last time. As his footsteps grew closer, they slowed. “Oh, fuck. FUCK!!”

  He ran past me and knelt by the corpse, shaking him. I watched as he tried to administer CPR but his blue lips told no lies.

  “He's dead.” My voice was barely a whisper, but Sebastian heard it. He turned around and gave me a look of disgust before continuing his futile efforts to bring my victim back to life.

  “I killed him.” He ignored me, but the words weren't meant for him. They were an acknowledgment for me. A confession to the earth that I was the one to judge for the blood soaking into her. And judge she would. I knew that as surely as anything, and it brought me a strange kind of peace.

  “Remus!!” Victor cried out my name and I winced. His voice got to a place where Sebastian's couldn't go. All the emotions I s
hould have been feeling were still notably absent except one. Shame surfaced again, and it was almost a relief.

  He stopped at me first and knelt in front of me, shaking me by the shoulders. “Remus? What happened? Remus!” He slapped my face lightly. “He's in shock.”

  “He's not in shock,” spat Sebastian. I could tell he had given up on CPR. “They can't feel shock. I told you we shouldn't have fucking trusted him alone!”

  “You don't know what happened!” snarled Victor. Always coming to my defense, no matter what. No matter how little I deserved it.

  “It's pretty fucking obvious what happened!” Sebastian was standing. I could see him over Victor's shoulder. “He manipulated us into leaving him here so he could hunt some innocent person!”

  “He wouldn't do that! That guy must have done something.”

  They both looked at me. I knew Sebastian wasn't going to believe a word I said. His eyes condemned me before I could even answer.

  “He's right,” I said evenly. It felt like something would break if I spoke, but once the words were finally out, they were crystal clear. “I… hunted him. And I killed him.”

  Victor watched me, unable to veil his horror. It was even worse than Sebastian's overt disgust. He shook his head slowly. “I don't believe that. We… We have to get out of here.” He was disheveled for the second time since I had known him. Both had been because of me. I really did bring out the worst in them.

  He helped me to my feet and I stumbled. I wasn't shaking, but my legs didn't seem to want to work either. I knew I wasn't in shock, though. Shock was when you could feel nothing. I could feel shame. And a perverse sense of satisfaction that bred more shame.

  “We can't just leave a fucking body, Victor!”

  “We have no choice,” he hissed, looking over his shoulder.

  “We hunt vampires, Victor. We don't clean up their messes.”

  “No, but he's part of our pack and he's your fucking mate, Sebastian. Don't forget that.”

  “I can't!” he screamed, shoving Victor. “No matter how hard I try, I can't!”

  His words struck me but they missed their target. I should have been hurt by them, but all I could do now was see the logic. Of course that was why he had gotten drunk the night before. He was trying to forget that I was his mate, and why wouldn't he want that? None of this was what he'd signed up for. None of this was okay.

  Suddenly, after a moment of silence, Victor punched Sebastian without warning and with all his might. The wall of a man stumbled backwards, clutching the right side of his face.

  Before I could react, Victor straightened up and regained his usual calm demeanor. “Wash your hands of him, then, but you'll do this for me. God knows I've cleaned up your messes enough times, bodies and otherwise. When we get back, you don't have to have anything to do with him again.

  I looked between them, incapable of speech or any more movement than it took to shift my eyes. Well, I might have been capable, but something made it seem like an impossible task even though the blood had filled my body with warm, pulsing energy.

  Sebastian didn't say a word, to my surprise. He knelt over the body and took out a wallet, examining its contents. At first, I thought he was going to hide the body, but he put the wallet back in the man's pocket and took a step back. He seemed about to do something else, but he paused to face me.

  “Clive Burns.”

  I stared at him in confusion.

  “That's the name of the man you just killed. I want you to remember that.”

  “Sebastian,” Victor said, rage creeping into his voice.

  “He should know,” said Sebastian. “Not like they give a shit anyway.”

  Victor tensed up, but he didn't reply this time.

  He turned away from us began ripping off his clothes as a familiar shadow started to form around his body. Unlike Victor's, this one was a much lighter, almost blue shade of black. It enveloped his entire body and Victor grabbed me, pulling me away while remaining careful to keep me behind him.

  I watched as Sebastian's beast form emerged from the nebulous ink and turned to me with a fierce snarl. Victor lurched forward with a threatening snarl of his own, still human yet no less ferocious.

  The beast turned away and I watched with a strange middle ground of curiosity and disgust as the creature's claws swiped at the corpse, eviscerating his stomach. Intestines began to leak from the massive gashes and the creature turned away.

  “Sebastian,” said Victor. The beast stopped, hunched over. I expected him to say more, but if he did, it wasn't audibly. After a moment Victor stepped back and Sebastian disappeared into the forest with a roar. It wasn't angry like the ones before. It seemed almost grieved.

  “Come on,” Victor said, putting his arm around me. He was surprisingly gentle, but in the absence of anger or judgment was disappointment and sadness. I would have traded them in a heartbeat.

  He led me back to the car and I cast a glance back towards the forest. I could see the tops of the trees moving as he ran at top speed. “We're leaving him?”

  “He'll make it to the Lodge on his own,” he said carefully, helping me into the car like he was transporting a porcelain doll.

  “He can't be around me,” I said.

  Victor's hand lingered on the door a moment as if he were trying to find the right words. He must not have found them, because he closed the door and got into the car without another word.

  I didn't need his acknowledgment, though. Of course Sebastian didn't want to be around me. When I caught a glimpse of my eyes in the rear view mirror, it was no great mystery. They were every bit as cold and dead as the corpse's. Sebastian loved Remus Black. The compassionate, living human he'd marked. I wasn't sure who I was anymore, but one thing was abundantly clear.

  I most certainly, undeniably, was no longer Remus Black.

  Epilogue

  The death of Clive Burns was mourned in a quiet and efficient manner, as had been the custom in his family for countless generations. The dress was dour, the attendance was limited only to family, there was no announcement in the obituaries and, in fact, there was no official announcement of his death at all.

  At the funeral service, no hymns were played, no kind memories of the deceased were spoken, and not a single tear was shed. To be fair, while the Burns' and their extended family were a solemn bunch, they were privy to a secret that eluded most grieving families.

  Death was not permanent. Not when you were part of The Family. The grave was not the final resting place for Clive, nor was it for any of the Burns family. It was for that very reason that Eliza Burns didn't look upon the sight of her son's casket being lowered into the ground and covered in six feet of dirt with sadness, but rather a small knowing smile.

  “That was a lovely service, wasn't it, boys?” asked Eliza, putting an arm around the shoulders of her favorite and least favorite nephews respectively. “Almost as wonderful as yours, Prentice.”

  The tall spectacled man gave his aunt a warm smile as they walked. “I wouldn't know, I was indisposed at the time.”

  Eliza gave a curt laugh and released her hold on the smaller blond boy beside her to tuck her salt-and-pepper bob behind one ear. “Oh you and that dry wit. You must kill your students.”

  “Not unless they're supernaturals.”

  She threw her head back and gave a loud laugh, earning glances from a few of her more stoic family members. “Oh, dear. You and your father both. He always had me in stitches when we were growing up. Figuratively then literally after the whole werewolf accident.”

  Prentice gave a courteous chuckle. The boy near him laughed nervously.

  “Arthur, why don't you study something useful in college like your uncle? We're going to need a new coroner someday. Or be a lawyer like your father,” she said pointedly.

  “Careful, Eliza. He's majoring in my field right now,” said Prentice.

  “Oh, I know, but that's different. You're a teacher. You've got connections at the college,” she
said. “What kind of connections is he going to make as a shrink?”

  Prentice shrugged. “You'd be surprised how many supernaturals seek therapeutic help. It's a good way to keep a beat on the pulse of the community.” He reached over to ruffle his cousin's hair. “Besides, whatever Arthur decides to be, he'll be an asset to The Family.”

  Eliza sighed. “Oh, that's Harriet. I'll never hear the end of it if I don't rave about how she should be nominated for sainthood for bringing that dry meatloaf again. Hello, dear!” She raised an arm and waved faintly to the tall blond across the room.

  “My God, that woman can talk,” muttered Prentice. He stopped and turned to the boy in front of him. “How are you holding up? That's only the second funeral you've been to, isn't it?”

  “The second funeral, no. The second Funeral, yes,” said Arthur.

  Prentice chuckled. “There's quite a difference. You're next, you know.”

  “Don't remind me.” The boy shuddered.

  “Don't be so down. All of this is thanks to you, you know. They never would have been able to bait the hybrid if it weren't for you.”

  “That's why I'm down.”

  Prentice gave him a look. He reached down and tilted the boy's head, forcing him to look up. “What did I tell you before you started the mission?”

  Arthur glanced away. “Don't get attached.”

  “Exactly. I get that the helpless little bookworm thing tugs on your heart strings. Truth be told, I like him as a person. But you have to remember, they're not people. Especially not him. It just took longer for him to pop out of the cocoon than usual.”

  Arthur looked down as soon as the older man's hand fell away. “I know,” he said, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I just can't shake this feeling that it's wrong.”

  Prentice gave him a knowing smile. “That'll all pass after your funeral, Arthur. You'll see.” He gave the boy a reassuring pat on the back and wandered off.

  Arthur glanced back at the pile of fresh earth on his cousin's casket and hoped no one saw him shudder. By the rise of the next full moon, Clive would see, too.