The Nightwalkers Saga: Books 1 - 7

by Candace Wondrak

  Gabriel wouldn’t stop staring at me.

  The Council’s medical examiners were split into two teams, one took care of Michael, and the other had their hands full with the body. Koath’s body. The words felt strange, so I was glad I didn’t have to speak them again.

  I didn’t know what I thought would happen, but I didn’t expect to have a mini-hospital set up right in our living room. They moved him to the couch, attached tubes to his hand that gave him fluids. They said he’d be all right. If only everyone was so lucky.

  I could feel Gabriel’s heavy gaze on me, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I just…I wanted to be alone. I didn’t want to answer one hundred questions about what happened or what I saw.

  But that’s exactly what would happen.

  Short exclamations of extreme blood loss and Dear God, this is the worst I’ve seen came from the kitchen. “The Purifier found him like this?” one whispered.

  “Such a shame,” the other responded, “I heard he used to be her Guardian.”

  The other agreed on how awful it was, especially for me.

  The sounds of a zipper cut through the air, and all I could picture was the body. His open eyes. My hand on the broken chair leg tightened so hard I thought my palm bled. I didn’t glance down to see whether or not it was.

  A woman knelt before me, her green eyes and rose-hued hair familiar. The school’s new secretary. Of course, it made sense that she was a part of all this. They wouldn’t trust a civilian to be in that position after what happened to the last secretary and how brutal her death was. The Council worked in mysterious ways, quick, fast, and efficient. As far as I knew no one knew exactly what happened to the school’s last principal or the secretary. There were rumors, but nobody could say for sure. The Council even managed to keep it out of the news.

  “Hello, Kass,” she spoke. “I’m sorry we’re meeting under these circumstances.”

  I said nothing.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” She had to ask the question three times before I figured out that this would be over quicker if I cooperated.

  And so I told her everything. I told her about staring up at the house, how it felt different. I told her about the song, and Michael laying on the floor in the living room. I explained how I immediately went for the phone, only to slip, how Crixis sat in the kitchen, thumbing through a cookbook. I told her what he said, how Koath loved me.

  What I didn’t tell her was that Raphael was there as well. As soon as the numbness wore off, I’d go a-hunting, and whether it was Crixis I found or Raphael, I didn’t care. Raphael was a liar either way.

  Cleo nodded along as I spoke, and after I finished, she took a look in the kitchen, now that the body was gone, carried out of the house as I told her my story.

  Gabriel was near, but he didn’t try hugging me again. Maybe he thought I’d break. He probably thought I’d react the same way I did to John’s death. At the time, I hadn’t known what he was, a Daywalker, and I rebelled like the dumb teenage girl I pretended to be.

  I felt too old to act like that now. I’d seen so many more things, lived through so much since then. I didn’t want to cling to Gabriel as I slept. I didn’t want to cry at all. I just wanted to be alone.

  And get my revenge.

  I really, really wanted revenge.

  Soon Cleo was back, sitting beside me. “When did that handprint on the wall come about?” There was a pause before she asked, “Did you fight him?”

  Gabriel’s gaze narrowed, as if he wanted to know the truth, like he was going to read my thoughts. I sent him a don’t-you-dare look and watched as he shifted his stance on the wall.

  When I was certain he wasn’t going to try any mind-reading, I looked at Cleo and said, “I tried. Of course I tried. What kind of Purifier would I be if I didn’t?” My fingers tapped the makeshift stake, which she undoubtedly noticed the instant she saw me.

  “And he didn’t kill you?” she prodded further.

  “No, he wants me to feel pain.”

  “And do you think he believes he inflicted enough pain by killing Koath? Did he know Koath used to be your Guardian?”

  “Probably.”

  “If he wanted to inflict pain, why not kill Michael as well? Why leave him alive? And Gabriel? Surely you would’ve hurt more if it had been Gabriel in there, and not your old, ex-Guardian?” Cleo’s questions struck a nerve.

  “Are these the typical Council questions, or are they specially crafted for me?” I snapped. “This sure feels like an interrogation. Do you think I did it? Do you think I could’ve ripped him open like that?” My voice rose, just short of a shout. “Do you think that I, one of the Council’s blessed Purifiers, am capable of something like that?” The word blessed dripped off my tongue. There was nothing blessed about any of this.

  Gabriel finally stopped staring at me, dropping his eyes to the floor and studying his shoes, which were free of blood. Mine weren’t.

  Cleo was quiet for a long moment before saying, “I think we’ve both been around the block too many times to lie and say that you’re not.” She waited a long while, letting the implications of her words sink in. “AWOL Purifiers can be just as dangerous as Demons. And with what you’ve been through, the Council is watching you very closely. But do I think you did it? No. It’s well-documented that Crixis has a fascination with you.”

  The Council was watching me closely? What did that mean? Did Michael have to do a weekly report on me? I was at the point where I was ready to tell the Council where to shove it.

  And here’s a hint: it’d be a place where the sun didn’t shine.

  Cleo got to her feet, towering over my sitting figure. “The Council is sending an Agent over, along with a new Guardian for Max.”

  “Crap,” Gabriel broke his silence, “somebody’s got to tell Max what happened.”

  Gabriel seriously saying Max’s name and not dork, dweeb or nerd…it wasn’t right. But then again, none of this was.

  “Already on it. A third team is retrieving him from the football game. Until Koath’s replacement arrives, I’ll be looking after Max. I’ll also be taking his position in the school, so if you ever have questions, you know where to find me.” Cleo’s backside buzzed, and as she dug her phone out of her jeans, her expression changed. “I have to take this. I’ll write up a report for now and send it over. There will be papers for you to fill out; I’ll get them to you tomorrow. For now, take it easy. The medical team will remain until Michael’s in full health, and the cleanup…” She paused as she neared the door. “…they’ll leave once it’s done.” The smile on her face was anything but reassuring. “Don’t worry. Everyone here is a trained professional. If Crixis comes back, he’ll have an army waiting.” And then she left, gabbing on her phone as if she went through this every day.

  Biting back a frown, I muttered, “I’m going to shower.” I stamped up the steps. If this were a normal day, Gabriel would make a comment about company. But he knew better than that. I was in the bathroom in an instant, locking the door behind me.

  I stripped down, out of the bloodied clothes, putting them in the granite sink. The water easily turned on, and soon I was standing, letting the hot water rain down upon me, watching as it mixed with Koath’s blood and twirled down the drain, a pinkish color.

  I stood in that shower until the hot water was cold, my teeth chattering.

  Stepping out, I grabbed my towel. I was too lazy to wrap it around me, holding it to my front as I exited the bathroom and crossed the hall to my bedroom. Gabriel wasn’t in the hallway, so it didn’t matter that my backside showed. I closed the door with my foot, moving to the center of my bedroom after flicking on the lights.

  Darkness had crept in. The clock read a quarter to midnight.

  My bedding was an ugly arrangement of old-lady flower patterns; nowhere near as cool as the wine-colored set I had before I woke up covered in blood. Who knew it was a foreshadowing of the blood-coating the kitchen would get?


  Not caring, I dropped the towel to the floor, pulling the first pair of underwear and bra I found in my drawers. As I slipped them on, I noticed the necklaces sitting on top of the dresser. One a beautiful combination of a cross and a heart, and the other a gorgeous set of wings. Once I hooked my bra, I reached for one of them: the angel’s wings. I needed dark Gabriel’s strength, not this world’s Gabriel’s goofiness.

  I swept up my hair and put the necklace on, staring at the wings in the dresser’s mirror, at how perfectly the pendant sat on my chest.

  Within a moment, I slipped on a black tank top and was searching the pile of clothes on the floor for my little pajama shorts when I heard the door open. Gabriel walked in, noticed I was pant-less, and quickly turned around. Yet another thing the Gabriel I knew wouldn’t do.

  As I glared at him, the metal wings on my chest burned like I was betraying him by calling to memory the Devil Gabriel in the other world. “You’ve seen me in less,” I informed him, continuing my search for my shorts. “What do you want?”

  Gabriel was slow to turn around, struggling to keep his eyes level with mine and not look at my bare legs or my plain, red underwear. He held onto something, but for a while he didn’t say anything. He noted the silver chain on my neck, and I hoped he wasn’t reading my thoughts or my feelings. I didn’t want him to know that I left his necklace on the dresser and purposefully chose the other.

  I had a feeling he already knew, though.

  “Cleanup’s done,” he said softly. “They were going to take this, but I thought…I thought you’d want it.” He extended his hand, dropping a chain on my palm.

  Two rings. Simple golden bands, clinging together on the yellow chain.

  I couldn’t look at them. Not right now. I knew who they belonged to. Koath and his dead wife. I was quick to hand it back off to Gabriel, muttering, “Put it on the dresser. I’m a little busy.”

  Gabriel acted like a good boy and did as he was told. As he set it down, he saw the necklace he’d gifted me. Oh, well. I was at the point where I just didn’t care anymore. His fingers traced the heart portion of the necklace. “He wouldn’t want you to do anything stupid.”

  I froze, twirling around, snapping, “I don’t think I asked you, Gabriel.”

  There was a pause before he added, “He wouldn’t want you to lie to the Council, either.”

  “When I want your opinion on what Koath would or wouldn’t want, I’ll ask for it.”

  Gabriel turned away from the dresser, asking a very pointed question, “What would you have done if it were me in there?”

  My rage faltered. “Good question. When I have an answer, I’ll let you know.”

  “There’s the difference between you and me.” Gabriel started for the door. Before he left, he said, “I’ll let you know if Michael’s condition changes.”

  I watched him go, grinding my teeth at his comment. He closed the door behind him without as much as a backward glance. That’s the difference between you and me? I didn’t have time for riddles, and really, everything was getting too heavy around here.

  My search for my shorts stopped. Like a robot, I made my way to the chest near my closet and opened it, careful of any stray squeaking noises. Various weapons sat in a random pile inside, though one weapon sat on top, different from the rest.

  Intricate roses in the hilt, thorns winding down the sides of the blade.

  As I lifted it up, I sent a prayer to whoever was listening, that my rose blade would see blood tonight.

  God, I knew, wouldn’t hear that prayer. Maybe the other world’s Gabriel would.

  Chapter Thirty-Three – Raphael

  When she left to walk home, I knew something was wrong. I knew too much time had passed before one of his sick games. I opened a rift, the first in many, many years, to arrive before her, to witness something ungodly. Michael had been unconscious. It didn’t worry me. Michael wasn’t the checkmate. Koath was, and by the time I got into the kitchen, I saw Crixis’s unnatural fangs deep in Koath’s throat.

  The Guardian saw me enter the kitchen, eyes widening.

  Crixis stopped and turned, tossing a look over his shoulder as blood dripped from his mouth. His eyes were an ugly red. “Ah, hello there, old friend.” He jostled Koath like he was a puppet, and Koath was too old and tired to fight back. Or, perhaps, he’d been compelled not to. “Care for a bite? That vegan diet you’re on, while I understand is all the rage, can’t be healthy for you. An old being like yourself, well, you need nourishment.”

  I could only imagine what Kass would feel if she saw this scene.

  “Let him go, Crixis,” I stated evenly, fists clenching on my sides.

  When he gave me a smile, I knew then that it was over.

  One hand held Koath’s jaw while the other dug into the holes his teeth had made on his neck. “No,” Crixis whispered, literally tearing Koath’s throat open before I could flash and stop him.

  Even with my speed, it was pointless. I couldn’t stop him. Crixis was always faster than me. By the time I reached Koath, his neck was gruesomely torn, his throat bare. Tendons constricted and blood sprayed my face. “No,” I echoed Crixis for an entirely different reason.

  Crixis stepped back, watching as I caught Koath’s body before it hit the ground.

  Eyes widening, Koath opened his mouth to speak. He stared straight at me as the blood gurgled in his open throat. His tongue was visible, part of his esophagus gone. He tried desperately to speak, to say something, but was unable. His eyes glazed over, his breathing stopped. There was so much blood.

  Crixis disappeared as I set Koath down, moved away from his body, letting his blood flow freely on the kitchen floor. “You’re a monster,” I said, hearing an old song begin playing from the other room.

  “I know,” he mused, situating himself with a cookbook at the kitchen table. “And, honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He was a single page into the book when he stopped to look at me. There was no judgement in his eyes, which had returned to their hazel hue. “How else does one make eternal life fun?”

  “By not murdering innocents. By doing quite literally anything else,” I shouted, standing, flashing beside him. My fist was raised. “Eternal life does not give you a free pass to do as you wish!”

  My risen fist would not move. Crixis slowly stood, standing a few inches taller than me. He studied my stance, my priest’s uniform, growing disgusted. “Lower that hand,” he demanded, and in spite of all that I was, all that I stood for, my fist dropped to my side. He stepped closer to me, backing me to the wall. “Answer me honestly, Raphael. Do you think you’re better than me?”

  “Yes,” I spat, willing my body to fight, but it was useless.

  “You’re a fool. To them—” Crixis motioned to Koath. “—we’re all the same. Demons. Unholy creatures who need purifying. You preach and you teach the young Purifiers, but if they knew what you really were, they’d end you. Somehow, someway, you’d be nothing.” He snickered. “You’re pathetic. And to think, when I watched you burn Leliana, I thought I’d have a worthy apprentice. Who would’ve known how pathetic you’d turn out to be.” His gaze stared holes through me, digging up memories that I’d desperately wanted to forget.

  “No,” I hissed through bared teeth. Images of Leliana overtook me. Her beauty, her grace, how we strolled through town, oblivious to the world. I’d never known love until I kissed her in that rose garden. For the first time in my life, I’d felt human. I’d wanted to be human.

  Then fires dominated my brain. Her screams of agony. It could’ve ended in a much better way, and yet I gave in to my urges. I wanted her to pay.

  I pulled my knees in, wishing the images away. My eyes squeezed shut. By the time I’d come to, Kass was there, perched on the kitchen table, ready to fight Crixis. And then he called attention to me and vanished. Suddenly I was hauled to my feet, a stake lifted against me, Kass’s accusations flying.

  What could I have possibly said to her to make it okay? Nothi
ng. There was nothing I could say but “I tried” and “I am so sorry” and various things. My mind was befuddled, my brain confused. When she asked me a loaded question, I didn’t have an answer for her. I simply repeated what I’d said, or some form of it, and opened a rift behind me, falling back into the church. The rift closed before she could follow.

  I fell on the steps of the altar. I turned, facing the broken statue of the cross and Jesus Christ. Gazing up at the statue, I asked a single question: “Why?” The word meant so much more than it sounded.

  Why have you abandoned me? Why was I lead astray? Why am I still alive?

  “Why?” I grew angry, tugging at the collar around my neck. It suddenly grew too tight. Too stifling. I tore the white cloth from my neck, tossing it at the foot of the statue. “I am no priest.” Soon I tore off the black shirt, throwing it in much the same way.

  “Clearly, you’re not a man, either,” a voice behind me spoke.

  “Leave, Crixis,” I hissed without turning around.

  “Or what? You’ll brood some more?” He chuckled. “I do have to say, that was getting old, buddy.”

  I tentatively reached for the golden amulet on my chest. Its metal was cold and hard on my bare skin. I slowly lifted the chain from my neck, dropping it on the floor as I turned to face him. “I am done brooding.”

  Crixis gave me a slow, overly dramatic clap. “Oh, good. Please tell me I don’t have to take my shirt off as well. Frankly, I don’t think the world could handle that much homoeroticism, especially in a church.”

  Within a flash, I punched him square in the jaw, sending him backwards, breaking a few pews along the way.

  He spoke with a gleeful smile, “You always knew how to throw a punch.” Lifting his hands, he gestured for me to continue. “Now show me your teeth. Let them out. I’m sure they’re dying after being hidden for so long.”

  He wanted my teeth. And he was going to get them.

  All the years of hiding, all the years of hating myself and regretting what I had done, what I’d become, it all washed away at that moment. I was done with it all.