The Nightwalkers Saga: Books 1 - 7

by Candace Wondrak

  In all my thousands of years of living, I had never gazed upon Hell, but I did my best to bring it to Earth.

  It was a cold sweat that woke me, my light eyes suddenly opening in the silvery darkness. A peculiar yet familiar feeling bubbled in my gut, a magnetism so unique that I only felt it once before.

  I rolled to my side, glancing at the naked back of the Queen. Her hair splayed out on the pillow like a dark halo, her chest rising and falling with every small breath. She was still so young compared to me; it wasn’t a wonder she hadn’t woken the instant she felt it, as I did.

  My eyebrows came together, confusion dawning on me.

  What was this?

  Chapter Four – Kass

  Once the light died down, I bared my teeth and lunged for the robe-wearing, staff-wielding Demon. I meant to tackle it to the ground and beat it up, but alas, I found myself stumbling forward, my outreached arms finding nothing before me.

  Eyes focusing in the darkness, I ascertained that I was still in the forest, but no Demon with ancient robes and a staff from Lord of the Rings stood in front of me.

  “What the…” I whispered, flicking my head around, curious and bewildered.

  I was slow to pick up a thick, wooden log, one that was more in the shape of the fighting staves Raphael made us use in our most recent lesson. Getting used to the weight of it, within the next second, I sprinted back to where I left the group, ready to kick some Nightwalker behind.

  What I saw when I left the forest was not what I expected to see.

  Nothing.

  Absolutely nothing.

  No Gabriel, no Max, no Koath. None of the Nightwalkers remained, either. In fact, all that was left was some rather dead-looking grass.

  “Gabriel,” I shouted, twirling to see if they had started to look for me. Maybe I was in the forest longer than I thought…but somehow, I didn’t think that was true. “Koath? Hello? Max?” With every word, my voice dimmed, growing quieter and quieter. “Anyone?”

  Something wasn’t right here.

  Gripping the stick, I stopped yelling for my friends when I heard a rush of footsteps. They headed toward me quick, far too fast to belong to humans, even if they were sprinting at full speed. I exhaled slowly, readying myself for whatever fight was to come. If that strange Demon in the forest was back with some friends, I wasn’t about to hesitate. Not this time. No blinding light for me.

  A pack of feral dogs surrounded me, though they seemed to be more Demon than dog. Their eyes glowed a fluorescent yellow, their teeth dripped venom as they snarled. Half a dozen, the size of large wolves, clawed at the ground as they circled me. One was larger than the others, the alpha.

  The alpha dog stood proudly as it barked, telling its friends to attack me. All at once, the Demon dogs jumped for me, paws out, mouths open. In this situation, I was oddly grateful for Raphael’s lesson, for I was able to defend myself quite well. Those attacks I couldn’t dodge, I slammed the staff into their bodies, tossing them out of the battle ring.

  It got to the point where the alpha visibly grew angry with me, howling and leaping at me while I was busy hitting one of its furry, feral friends. Larger and faster than its kind, the alpha locked its jaws on my left arm, teeth practically digging down to the bone.

  “Son of a—” I hissed, dropping the staff. The pain seared through me, adrenaline coursing through my veins. With strength I didn’t know I had at the moment, I dug my free hand’s fingers through the alpha’s eyes, effectively blinding it.

  The wolf whimpered, letting go of my arm only when I grabbed its jowls. The rest of the pack watched as I wrestled the alpha to the ground, getting numerous claws and scratches on me, but soon I had my knee on the back of its head, on its spine.

  Lifting my gaze, I glared at the pack of Demon wolves before me, making certain that they saw me above their alpha. Ignoring the stinging pain in my arm, I used what was left of my Purifier strength to snap the alpha’s neck with my leg. The loud crack was a sickening sound, echoing in the night’s air. The Demon wolves looked to each other, barked softly, and high-tailed it away from me.

  Once I was sure they were gone, I sighed, shoulders slumping, and rolled off the dead Demon. A pack of Demon wolves like this shouldn’t have gone unnoticed by Michael and Raphael. Koath I could lend the forgiveness to, since he was technically new in town. But a gang of vicious, violent, animalistic Demons? Tsk, tsk, tsk, Michael.

  Holding in a moan, I glanced at my left arm. A dozen puncture holes littered my skin, varying in deepness. The blood flowed easily from the holes, dripping onto the grass. I had to get this wound cleaned up fast, otherwise infection was definitely going to happen.

  But first thing’s first. I had to stop the bleeding. If I left it alone until I got home, I was nearly positive I’d die before getting to the front door. Actually, home was too far off. Raphael’s church was closer. He had stuff there I could use, I was positive of it.

  I tore the midriff off my shirt and did my best to make a tourniquet. My usual sarcastic self waned as I began the trek.

  This day totally sucked.

  I was numb to the pain by the time I reached the dilapidated church Raphael called home. The giant doors were closed, and I prayed that he’d be home. What I’d do to have a cell phone right now. One call to Michael, and he’d be here lickety-split with everything I needed to make sure I didn’t lose my arm or die.

  Putting my back to the doors, I used my legs to push them open, fearing I had no strength left in my arms. My willpower was draining. I was getting tired. I wanted nothing more to lay down on the first pew I saw and sleep.

  I shook off the feeling as I entered the church, too caught up in my tiredness to realize that the church looked different than it did the last time I was here. The majority of the pews were torn apart and nailed to the stained-glass windows. The giant holes in the ceiling of the cathedral were covered with tarps. The cross on the altar was broken. A few candles lit the interior, an eerie glow.

  My mouth was open, and I was seconds from shouting for Raphael when an arrow noiselessly pierced the air and landed near my feet.

  A sinister voice spoke from the darkened rafters, “Take another step, and the next one won’t miss.” There was a strangely familiarity to the voice, to the menacing tone. It was one I knew I heard before, but one I could not place.

  It definitely didn’t belong to Raphael.

  “You’re…” The voice grew confused. “You’re not her, are you?”

  A man flashed before me with Daywalker speed, tall and handsome. His muscular body was clad in an outfit that read zombie apocalypse: full of belts, layers and dark colors. But it wasn’t his outfit or his spectacular body that startled me into silence.

  It was his face.

  John.

  Chapter Five – John

  I knew I felt it, but until I laid eyes on her, I couldn’t place it. I certainly didn’t expect to see her walking through the church, clutching her arm like it was about to fall off. I was perched in the upper rafters, shrouded in darkness, my one true ally, my bow, in hand.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  I couldn’t believe it was her.

  After all this time, she was here? Strolling inside as if nothing happened, nothing changed? I frowned deeply, rage surfacing. Before I knew what I was doing, I had an arrow strung and shot it at her. At her feet.

  “Take another step, and the next one won’t miss,” I hissed, knowing how genuine the threat sounded. I never made pointless threats. Never. Yet as I began to reach for the second arrow, I paused as I studied her—and I meant really, truly studied her.

  She wasn’t dressed ridiculously. She looked relatively innocent. She was injured, sure, but beyond that, she seemed normal. Like she did before all this.

  My anger quickly subsided, and my voice grew somewhat weaker, “You’re…you’re not her, are you?” Despite what I should have done, I was suddenly before her, gripping my bow to keep me rooted in reality.

 
; This couldn’t be happening, could it?

  I remembered high school, I remembered her first day like it was yesterday. Such a long time ago that was, and yet seeing her like this made me remember it all. What could have been if it weren’t for the Vampire who called himself the King.

  Her green eyes stared up at me with such confusion. I wasn’t the only one completely flabbergasted at the situation.

  Seeing her still drove me crazy. Even after all this time, she had a hold on me. She was more beautiful than ever, though she was battered and bloody. I wanted to hold her close, close my eyes, and pretend everything was back to the way it was. That everything wasn’t awful.

  Of course, there was more than the Vampire King that wouldn’t allow that. Other, worse things. The reason we never got together in the first place. Him. I couldn’t even think his name. I didn’t want to.

  As I studied her, watching the blood pool on her makeshift bandage, I merely whispered, “I can’t believe this.”

  For four words, they sure got her pissed instantly.

  Her brows furrowed, her chin jut out. Kass harrumphed, “You can’t believe this? I can’t believe this! What are you even doing back, John? I thought…I don’t know, that you’d had enough of this place? That you never wanted to come back—that you never should come back after all the horrible things you did.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, more confused than ever.

  Kass pursed her lips. “What am I talking about? What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you have some kind of amnesia or something. Michael’s going to get the Council on your ass if you don’t leave. It was a miracle he let you go the first time. He won’t do it again.”

  I was fairly certain Michael wouldn’t be doing anything of the sort. Probably because he was as good as dead.

  Actually, I thought, he was dead.

  Chapter Six – Kass

  “I can’t believe this.”

  He couldn’t believe this? What was his problem?

  All the deaths he caused jumped to the forefront in my mind, the terror he wreaked on me, stalking me and leaving me black roses. Killing the principal and the secretary. Nearly killing Michael. Wanting to turn me. Biting me.

  “You can’t believe this? I can’t believe this! What are you even doing back, John? I thought…I don’t know, that you’d had enough of this place? That you never wanted to come back—that you never should come back after all the horrible things you did.” I took a pause for a breath.

  John watched me go on and on, shaking his head gently. “What are you talking about?”

  I pursed my lips. “What am I talking about? What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you have some kind of amnesia or something. Michael’s going to get the Council on your ass if you don’t leave. It was a miracle he let you go the first time. He won’t do it again.” My injury-free hand clenched into a tight first. “I won’t let you go again.”

  That was when I noticed his tattoos were gone; the ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics that grew on his neck and body as a result of him taking in Osiris’s energy in place of me. He wore a ton of leather, and he was a bit dirty, but no tattoos were visible.

  I took a step away from him, my headache-filled mind trying to put it together and failing. “Where are your tattoos?”

  “What tattoos?”

  “The ones you got from the Osiris ritual?”

  “Osiris ritual?” John echoed, looking at me like I sprouted a second head.

  “Yeah, remember, you were at my house, being super creepy, and then you…you may have saved my life, but that’s beside the point, because you killed at least a dozen people after.”

  John vehemently shook his head. “I’ve never been to your house.”

  “Yes, you have.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  I glared at him, shooting him icy daggers. I wasn’t going to let his tall, dark and handsome self get me a second time around. I had more self-control than I did when I met him.

  That’s what I liked to tell myself, anyway.

  “I think I’d remember going to your house,” he continued. “And I think I’d remember something called the Osiris ritual.”

  Squinting at him, I questioned, “What’s your game, John? What’s this all about?”

  Another voice erupted from the darkness, appearing near to me, curved dagger flashing as he went to stab me. “I can ask you the same.”

  I was too slow to react, and without a doubt would have been met with a dagger to the gut, but thankfully John used his Daywalker speed to flash between us and stop the attack.

  “What are you doing?” the second man yelled, irate. “She needs to die!”

  “She,” John spoke slowly, carefully, glancing to me, “is not her. Can’t you feel it? She’s different.”

  As the attacker recoiled, realizing that John was right, I gathered the heart that had practically leapt out of my chest at the sudden attack, and I wondered why I needed to die. If anyone needed to die, it was John. Not me.

  “You’re right,” the man eventually agreed, sheathing his dagger. “How’s this possible?”

  I looked to the second man, finally seeing that he was the one I came here to find. Raphael.

  “Raphael?” I asked, noting that his outfit was similar to John’s. His hair was also longer. Too long to have been grown out in less than a day. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know” was what he hesitantly said.

  John glanced down to my arm. Blood flowed through the torn shirt I’d used as a tourniquet, soaking it thoroughly. Drops of it got through, falling to the floor. I recalled the visions I had of him in his past, the violent, blood-filled ones.

  “Clean her up,” John spoke quietly, turning to Raphael. “You’re better able to control yourself than I.” He started to walk away, disappearing into one of the church’s many back rooms.

  I turned to Raphael. “What did he mean by that?”

  Raphael held my gaze for a few seconds, not knowing how to answer that. “It seems there are things you don’t know about me, Kassandra.”

  “Huh. I’d say so.” I leaned on a nearby pew. “You’re not wearing your priest’s clothes.” My vision was starting to blur, and I tried blinking it away.

  He looked down. “I haven’t worn those clothes in a long time.” Turning his back to me, he disappeared in a hole of blue light, walking into nothing and vanishing completely. Within half a minute he returned the same way, startling the crap out of me and holding a med kit.

  I practically fell into the pew, mouth agape. “What was that?”

  Raphael sat beside me, slightly suspicious as he unlatched the kit and started cleaning me up. “Rift-walking.”

  “Rift-walking?” I spoke, the words foreign on my tongue. “How do you do that?”

  “It’s one of my…many talents.” He carefully took the tourniquet off my arm, pouring antiseptic on the wounds. Raphael watched me grimace, amazement drawn on his features. I was too dazed to notice the amazement, though.

  “Remind me to ask you about that when I don’t feel like passing out.” I wasn’t too dazed, however, to ask about the current state of things. “How long have I been gone?”

  “Gone?” It was Raphael’s turn to repeat. “You…were never gone.”

  “Okay,” I said the word as slowly as I could, not understanding his answer. “Then tell Gabriel and Michael I’m here.” My eyes closed as he began stitching together the deepest and thickest of the bite marks. I might have been used to pain, but it still wasn’t too fun.

  “That might pose a problem.”

  My eyes opened, and I stared at him accusatorily. “Why?” When he remained silent, intently focused on my wounds, I added, “Then call Koath. Heck, I’d even take Max right now. Can’t believe I just said that.”

  “I don’t know a Max or a Koath,” Raphael stated simply, shrugging his shoulders.

  “You…” I trailed off. “You don’t know Koath and Max?” Grinding my te
eth, I was wholly done with this conversation. Clearly it was leading nowhere. “Well, whenever you’re done, I’ll find them myself.”

  Raphael abruptly shut the med kit, catching my gaze and holding it. An unseen power came between us as he measuredly ordered, “No. You’re tired. So very tired. You will lay down and sleep.”

  My eyelids became heavy. I yawned. “You’re right. I am tired. A nap…is just what I need.” When Raphael stood, I stretched out on the pew, yawning again. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was Daywalker compulsion. I felt something similar when Rain came to help me in the cemetery. I couldn’t fight it then, and I couldn’t fight it now.

  My last thought before I fell asleep was not of Raphael and the very real possibility that he was more than he seemed, but of Gabriel.

  Where was my partner in crime?

  Chapter Seven – John

  I stood in the back room of the church, where Raphael used to store all his volumes and volumes of ancient tomes. They sat in piles on the floor, stacked to the ceiling. Two makeshift cots lay rolled on the floor, where we sleep. We became unlikely friends after the world turned the darkness. After evil rooted itself in our city.

  My fingers gripped my bow, absentmindedly drawing down its string as I pictured her face. How could losing her mean the end of the world? How could she be here, now, innocent of all the terrors this world created?

  I was more lost than ever.

  None of this made sense.

  Raphael appeared in the doorway, walking out of a blue rift torn in time and space. His eyes held equal amounts of confusion and suspicion. “Her wounds are cleaned and stitched. She’s asleep. I thought it was best while we…discuss what to do.” He set the first aid kit that hadn’t seen use in years down.

  “What do you think we should do?” I asked him, not only wanting but needing his guidance.

  To my disdain, he shrugged. “I don’t know. She…it would seem she knows nothing of this place. She spoke of people that she swore I knew. She asked after Michael and Gabriel.”